by Bilinmeyen
I was to warm her bed.
“Imagine, if she is not guilty at all,” I muttered, waving Wandal down as he was about to ask what I had said.
The two men of the fourth turma spotted us, and the same cheeky bastard who had mocked me in the morning winked. “Night watch arrives. Stay awake, citizen. We shall have some wine and deer in the city.”
“Choke on it, eh?” Wandal grumbled as the two left. I turned to look at the lady. Julia was smiling at me, standing in the shadows. She was drinking something warm, since her simple clay mug was steaming, and her eyes greeted me.
Her servant was dead.
She would think I did it. How in Hel’s name would I seduce her?
“Come closer,” she said tiredly. “If someone stabbed me, you’d be standing there, holding your spears, like two idiots. Come, here,” she added and nodded to the shadows next to her. “Though, try not to be seen. Relax, this is a skill hard to learn in Rome.”
Wandal stood near, and I took my place next to her. We waited impatiently. She was casting looks inside a doorway, where a fabulous marble courtyard opened up.
“My father,” she said, “finished this for his adoptive father, Julius Caesar. Basilica Julia. It almost sounds like its mine, no?”
I gazed up. Several tiers of porticos rose to the heavens, supporting cut stone of epic proportions. “You would be better honored by something intricate and feminine, I think. This is like a monument built for Donor. Massive and threatening.”
She smiled thinly at me. “Even a woman can be threatening in Rome,” she said. “But, you are right. I would like something thin and tall, and everyone should see it across the land. Here they come,” she said, and we held our breaths.
Some outlandishly dressed men were screaming at a rich, bored man, who seemed to be ignoring them entirely as he strode for the doorway. I stood near Julia, silent as a grave. As the man passed Julia, he gave her a small, rodent-like smile, his guards pushing the screaming men to arm’s length. She pulled a hood over her head as the chaotic procession continued on their way.
“That,” she told me, “is a lawyer who handles my businesses. And those two merchants,” she chuckled, “just lost a case. A case they had no chance of winning. The ignorant fools hired my lawyer to defend them against me.” She laughed brightly and shook her head with disbelief. I saw the man was shadowed by men, and no doubt Livia was aware of him. Julia went on. “I just gained a garum factory. It was nearly free. It’s in Hispania. A very good deal, indeed. Unless they burn it down, rather than work for me.”
“Congratulations, my lady,” I rumbled, as Wandal growled, looking around ferociously at some men who tried to get closer to the lady, begging for money.
“Vermin,” he rumbled as he booted one off.
She smiled, inspecting my friends. “Your friend has a nice touch. Fits right in Rome. Your language is such an interesting one. Guttural, as if each word was a curse. It is strange, is it not, that our beautiful language is used for lies and deceit, while your terrible one, deep and brutal, is the language of honor.”
“We have our share of dishonorable men,” I told him, blushing as I thought of what Livia had asked of me. “Though I admit most of those men know Latin.” Segestes, Father, I thought.
Hraban.
She chuckled. “Come, take me home. I’m done here.”
“Done cheating commoners, my lady?” I asked with a hint of disapproval, and I decided I should not try to seduce women when tired.
“Merchants, Corvus, merchants. They have cheated others in their time.” She gave me an amused smile. “I knew one man of honor,” she whispered. “A guard like you.” Her eyes took me in as she smiled. “The one you mentioned yesterday.”
Father?
Not Father, surely. Honorable?
She went on, adjusting her palla. “Yes, despite what he did in home, he was very honorable in Rome.”
“He killed Drusus,” I said softly. “That was hardly honorable, even in Rome.”
She chuckled. “Did he? I take your word for it. He did what he had to do, no? Oh! I know what you are thinking about. How would I know about a Guard’s honor? Indeed, how could I? He was a rare man. I knew him well.”
I bit my lip, but spoke anyway. “How well?”
“He was married back home,” she said softly. “And he may have been weak, but who isn’t when they are lonely? However, he kept my secrets, and guarded me against the others in this family. I miss his shield behind me.” She was nodding, and gave me a ghost of a smile. “You are a good substitute.”
I opened my mouth to tell her I was no substitute to anyone, and she smiled mischievously as she saw my sour look. She laughed clearly, walking past the forum’s Basilica Aemiliana and the great temple of Saturn. She was shaking her head as she kept stealing glances at me. “How much do you disapprove of this man?”
I struggled with my words. She was fishing. She had her doubts, because she was far from a fool. To admit Maroboodus was my father was a suicide, and yet, that was what she hoped to hear. She would hold power over me, but, in truth, she was welcoming a hunter to her bosom.
And if Antius had warned her, or Kleitos, then she was playing with fire. Mayhap even luring me to my death.
Could I not just kill her, and escape? She was taking a risk as well. I could kill her in bed, and none would know.
Sleep with her? Gods, prevent that from being necessary. It might be enough to trade secrets, and I had one to give. It would build trust.
And so I took a chance. “He came home. And didn’t like me very much.”
She frowned, and then understood what I had said. She nodded and spoke softly. “He had changed in Rome. But, then, you never knew him.”
I laughed bitterly. “I don’t understand him. We drifted apart immediately, and fought on a different side. Though, in the end, I had him, and let him go.”
She said nothing. I tensed and prayed she’d not start screaming and running. It took her a while to get her thoughts straight. “You let him go?”
“He is my father,” I said cripplingly. “And I didn’t hate him. I loved Drusus, but I didn’t hate him.”
I had, of course. The things he had done? Unforgivable.
“Irony that you now serve here,” she mused. “And guard me. Does anyone else know?”
“No,” I said darkly. “He could ruin my new life.”
“You are very trusting,” she whispered and smiled at me softly, giving me the advice I had been given so many times already. “I suggest you do not trust anyone in Rome.” She walked on. “But, you can trust me. And I’m in need of a man like you.”
I blinked. Had it been that simple? Had Livia truly known her so well? Antius, and whoever she was—had to be—conspiring with, would burn me, but, for some reason, they had not told her anything about me.
Yet.
“What say you, soldier?” she asked.
“Yes, my lady,” I said, and felt fear coursing up and down my back. I was playing a dangerous game.
She navigated the street that led to a long stairway up to the Palatine. The trees lining the way were singing mournfully in a slight evening wind. It was a peaceful sound, and people living on the hillsides bowed their heads to her, making us feel like we were escorting a goddess. Wandal and I pushed some relaxed men and women aside, those who didn’t notice her approach, but most didn’t so much as twitch their eyebrows as they saw why we were moving them aside.
Julia smiled, and was a bit out of breath as she climbed. “Support me,” she said, putting out her hand.
I moved the spear into my shield arm, and tried to give her my elbow, but she put a hand around my shoulders and stopped me. She struggled with her shoe, where a stone was apparently stuck. It came off, and she smiled at me thankfully. I felt Wandal’s annoyance, and I knew he had a hunch there was something too personal with the way she was smiling at me. We climbed on. She had a small, wistful expression on her face, and I thought she was thinking
about Maroboodus. She shook her head sadly. Father had that effect on people.
“Do you wish to talk of him?” I asked, and found I was curious. Had Father not driven me away, cursing me, telling me how I understood little of his choices so far from home?
She shrugged. “I’m not sure why he left. He was happy, and then he was gone. Of course there was no real future for us. None. But, I know he was happy. Perhaps it would have been better for you, as well, had he stayed, and you could have admired him from afar.”
Not sure why he left? Liar. Unless, I thought, her conspirators had not told her how they planned to kill Drusus, found a perfect tool in Maroboodus. How much in dark was Julia, when it came to the conspiracy she had agreed on, conspiracy she had made possible?
She might not know, though she was guilty anyway. Her fears and greed had doomed my family anyway.
And the fears of Augustus, who had driven her bitter, a voice in my head whispered.
I drove away the voice forcing me to understand Julia.
Instead, I sighed. “I did admire the thought of him. I suppose,” I said, sighing. “He is a very skillful warrior. A diplomat, a fighter, a strategist. But, he was a terrible father.”
She agreed with a nod. “I’m sure that might have been the case.”
Might have been? Was she thinking of Postumus, who was father’s son, if Antius and Cornix were to be believed? “But, he was a fabulous man. A decorated guard, like you, but not as vulnerable as you are,” she muttered, and smoothed over the comment with a kind smile. “Though being vulnerable suits you, my friend. It might have done him good as well.”
I kept my face straight. “I try to take that as a compliment.”
“Do,” she said. “Take it as one.” She didn’t smile. “I was weak when I found comfort with him.”
“You need not—”
She waved me down. “I was happy with my sons, but not with my husband. And I wanted someone to love me. Simple as that, but never really simple, is it?”
I bit my lip. “Thank you for sharing this with me.”
“We share secrets, then. A father, and a lover. As long as my liaisons are not public, my father does not care. I have had lovers, Raven. Not for a long while, but I’ve had them. I don’t want to marry again without love.”
Liar, I thought again. She’d have to marry someone to guard her children, should Tiberius die.
“But, I have rarely loved,” she went on sadly. “Marcellus, yes, I loved him. He died young, and I was young, and it broke my heart. I loved one other when I was very young. Alas, he loved another, and doesn’t care for me.”
Tiberius? Yes.
She looked at me with glinting eyes. “And I loved yet one more, who was a real man, until he left,” she spoke with a trembling voice. We were nearly on top. “I wasn’t young. But, I loved again. He left without a word, as I said. But, you make me feel young again.”
“Liar,” I said, and bit my lip.
“What?” she asked me, her eyes huge with shock.
I shook my head, but she kept walking, her eyes growing furious. I felt my chest constricting with pain, since Ulrich’s strikes had hurt me indeed. The heat and the uncomfortable situation were anything but pleasant. “I didn’t mean you, lady. He was a liar,” I muttered. “A liar. It was as if …” I stuttered, knowing I was walking a thin line, “as if he was making room for a new son.”
She didn’t react, but her step faltered. That was a secret she was careful with, if not her infidelity. Postumus was her problem, the one son she had promised Father, while she guarded Gaius and Lucius, and their legacy, like a mother bear. It was the one crime Augustus would care about. And I knew of it, probably the only one outside her circle of liars. Her marble face didn’t flinch. She was a superb actress.
“He is not a good father, to be sure,” she agreed, a fleeting moment of disappointment on her face. “He has a tendency to abandon those he should cherish. Men leave lovers, and sometimes wives, when children come to the picture.”
I felt a stab of sorrow for her, and cursed myself, smothering the urge to comfort her. Slayer and a liar, I thought and spoke. “I shall not complain, and try to build myself a new life here. He drove me away, and Drusus made me, and now, I shall guard his family in thanks. And you.”
She nodded. “I shall not plague you with my memories of Maroboodus,” she said with a smile. “I’ll make new ones.”
We entered her house, donned togae with the help of a slave, and went to our positions.
***
That night, at midnight, she came down the stairs.
I saw her face, as she arrived in her tunica alone, bare feet, and she was nervous. She was not a young woman, but certainly a beautiful one, with intelligent face, long neck, slender limbs, and a mysterious smile. She had said there was something vulnerable about me. There was also something vulnerable about her, especially when she had drunk wine. Then, the sorrows weighing on her soul down were less heavy, the trouble in her face not so evident. She stood there, on the stairway, looking at me with a nervous smile.
“Is your friend asleep?” she asked.
I snorted, nervous. Wandal probably was, taking his turn outside. I heard him move as a guard of vigiles marched past the house.
“He sleeps on his feet, and even speaks occasionally. Shall I wake him? Are you expecting company? Or going someplace?” I asked, wondering if I, or my friends, would follow her out that night.
She shook her head with confusion. “No, of course not. It’s night.” She walked past me to her desk, where she poured a mug of wine for herself. “But, I’ll spend some time with a man who has suffered like I have. Come,” she said, and moved to the balcony, holding out a hand. I hesitated, and didn’t move.
She stood there, vulnerable, doubtful, her hand out.
Livia told me to make her trust me. I had shared secrets, and it was not enough. Should I say ‘no’? Should I step away, and deny her wish?
I should. For me. For Cassia, I thought. I had tried to avoid that moment the whole day.
And failed.
I struggled with my honor, horrified of losing Cassia to Rome and its filth. There was a black-hearted Hraban inside me, one who had caused much chaos to my loved ones. Only lately had I, with the help of Drusus, Fulcher, Lif, and Cassia, pushed him away. And now, I needed that bastard to gain a victory. Sword would not do it. Woden’s rage would not help.
The terrible thought came to me again. Perhaps the sword was an answer. Would it solve things? The woman standing before me deserved it. She was guilty of my family’s deaths. For my friend’s demises. For so much misery in the north. She lied to me, manipulated me, and thought to take an advantage of me. She was lonely, but evil. I could kill her.
And flee. Could I?
Cassia would not flee.
I’d have to obey Livia. And hurt Cassia.
And, so, I decided.
I’d not let Julia win.
I stepped forward, and the look of relief on her face was such she nearly shed a tear. I placed my spear and the shield aside, and tipped the helmet off, gazing at her under my long hair. She shuddered, and I knew I would be in trouble. She handed me the wine, and I drank of it. She urged me to finish it, and I did. Then she nodded at the redheaded servant girl who had appeared. “You, Cilia. Make sure the servants are asleep, and help me. Come, Raven. Let us whisper together.”
“Yes,” I answered simply, dreading the moment more than battle.
Cilia looked at me with no visible emotion, and nodded towards Julia. Cassia and my unborn son flitted in my mind, nearly making me retch with misery. I stepped closer to Julia. She took my hand, and turned towards the balcony.
There, she stopped.
Instead, she pulled me to the stairway.
I heard Cilia checking the rooms below as I walked after Julia. She pulled me next to her, and in the dark stairway, her eyes looked like dark pools of mystery. She hesitated, and placed a hand on my hip, and pushed me up as
we went. She looked up at me, her smile alive with joy and happiness. She ran her hand around my waist, gently, and pressed my shoulder with her other hand. I felt like a fruit being tested for ripeness.
On top of the stairway, I turned to look at the corridors. They ran left and right. I didn’t have to guess which way to go. There was a lamp burning on a desk next to a doorway, which was open. Julia pulled me along, entered the room, and went to sit on a chair, staring up at me. Her hair was wild around her shoulders. I felt a moment of uncertainty, the room was dark, and I was afraid there would be a man there, waiting to kill me. It was possible. I looked around, listening, and turned, ripping out my sword as I heard someone behind me.
Julia looked shocked, her hand over her mouth, and the girl took a step back, terrified.
It was Cilia.
“You’ll not need that sword, Corvus,” she said and shook her head with amusement. “Put it away.” I did. I sheathed Nightbright, and looked at her, confused.
Cilia stepped in. Julia looked at me. “Are you obedient, Corvus?”
“Obedient? I’m a soldier. A Guard.”
“I’m going to adopt you,” she said, and I bristled. “We shared secrets, and I told you I need a confidant.”
“I’m no slave,” I stated. “Germani make bad ones.”
She smiled. “You are as much a slave as I am. I am one to my father,” she explained. “I desire a guard, a friend, a servant, and a lover. I think I already have a friend. And I have a guard, naturally. I need a lover, who enjoys what I enjoy. And then, there are times, Corvus, when neither friend or lover, or guard, can aid me. There will be days and nights I shall need a loyal servant who forgets the Guard, and does what I need. It has to be a man who will obey, even when reluctant. But, know this;: I treat my lovers, friends, and servants well. You will benefit, when things change.”
Change? She was talking about treason. Was Livia right? Was it so easy to trap her?
She was silent for a moment. “I need men I trust. In the future, I do need such men.”
She needs men she can trust, I thought. Like Drusus had. And why would she, if she had no plans, other than being a mother and a wife to Tiberius? “Yes. I understand. I am your Guard. Your friend. A servant, when you need it, and a … lover.”