by Crystal King
She smiled. “What? Anything. I’ll do anything if I can be with Leonis!”
It was unsettling to hear her call him Leonis instead of Casca; the praenomen was used only with intimate family. Passia was right; Apicata was deeply smitten. I thought back to my own youth and when I first laid eyes on Passia. It was a feeling that swept me away too.
I pushed the thought out of my head. It would not do to have Apicata see me as soft. “You have to promise me you won’t see Casca until your father has made his decision. Send notes if you must but I will not have any of the slaves taking Apicius’s wrath for your follies. Am I clear?”
“What if Father says no?” Apicata asked in a sullen tone.
“He might. And if he does, you will have to live with that. Your father has jurisdiction over you until you are given to your husband.”
She turned on her heel and stormed across the room. “It’s not fair! Why don’t I get to have a say in the matter? It’s my life!”
Passia went over to where Apicata stood by the window and put her arm around the girl. “I know it’s hard to understand, but this is the way it has always been. And the way it will always be.”
Apicata pushed Passia away. Tears tracked their way across her cheek. “No, it’s not! You are with the man you love! Why can’t I be?”
I felt my heart break.
Passia would have none of it. “Apicata, our circumstances are different. You can hardly compare your life to my life as a slave. Tell me, would you trade places and wait hand and foot on me?”
Apicata didn’t answer. Passia carried on. “Besides, I am not married to the man I love. As long as I’m a slave I may never have that. I could be sold tomorrow for all I know. But you, you are the daughter of one of the wealthiest men in the land. You will always live a life of luxury. Any husband you have will be happy to dote on you. Even if your father doesn’t choose Casca for you, you will be well cared for.”
“I don’t care about luxury. I want Leonis.”
“Do not despair yet. Let us see what spells Thrasius can work on your father.”
Apicata brightened. “Will you try, Thrasius? Father never denies you anything.”
I considered Passia, thinking about how Apicius continued to deny me the only thing I truly wanted. “I will, but you must be patient. I will ask him on my own time, when I think it best.”
Apicata grinned. “I will be patient, but it will be hard.”
It would have to do. I would need to approach Apicius soon or the girl would never give me peace of mind. As the poets always say, absence makes the heart grow fonder. And young lovers more desperate.
“Tomorrow I’ll discuss this arrangement with Casca. Write me a note to give to him, so he knows I have true intentions.”
“Can I go with you?” She looked at me, her eyes full of hope. It took all my willpower, but I told her no. She opened her mouth to protest, but decided against it.
She told me the details about meeting Casca and promised to bring me the note in the morning. When I left, a flock of crows cawed in the distance. Maybe it was the sound of the gods whispering to me that nothing good would come of this. I shook the thought out of my mind.
• • •
Apicata had been meeting her lover in the public gardens down the street from our villa. There were many alcoves where young lovers could meet and not be disturbed. It was in one such alcove that I found Casca waiting for Apicata to arrive.
He was there at the appointed time. When the bushes rustled, he thought I was Apicata and called out her name in an eager voice.
“I’m afraid not,” I said as I stepped through the flowered archway into the space where he waited.
He stood up, alarmed, scrambled over the bench, and held up his fists. There was no exit in that direction but he appeared ready to push his way through the leaves.
“What do you want? Stay back!”
By Jove, he thought I wanted to beat him up! I chuckled to myself. I was not a fearsome figure by any means, and couldn’t he see I didn’t carry a weapon? Still, he had good reason to be afraid; meeting with a patrician’s daughter without permission was a highly punishable offense. I noted the hedge was made of hawthorn, and as such would be painful should he choose to flee.
“I bring you a message.” I reached out my hand with Apicata’s note.
He stepped forward and took it warily, keeping his attention focused on me as he opened the folded sheet of papyrus.
I had no idea what it said, but it must have been favorable. Casca scanned the note, tucked the message into the fold of his toga, then took my hands in his and pumped them in gratitude.
“Our lives are in your hands, Thrasius.”
I smiled, unsure I wanted to bear the weight of such expectations. I tried to extract my hands from his but his grip held firm.
“Does your father know of your intentions?”
“He does, but he knows Apicius has been talking with Dolabella and Narses. He doesn’t believe I have a chance against the current consul or a man so prominent in the Imperial household.”
“He may have a point.”
“But Apicata’s note said—”
I cut him off. “I know, but I cannot promise anything.”
In looking at the young man, his eyes desperate and flooded with love, I decided I knew the fastest way to either nip this in the bud or change Apicius’s mind.
“You want to marry Apicata? Come now, I have an idea. We have one chance.”
He followed me back to the villa, asking me questions that I didn’t answer.
When we reached the villa, I led him to a small triclinium the family used for breakfast and which had little traffic during the day. He was uncomfortable being in the house with only my permission and no formal reason for being there, but I assured him he had nothing to worry about. I instructed one slave to bring him refreshment and another to watch the door and make sure Casca was not disturbed until I came back.
I went to find Apicius. He was in his library, going over the results of the day’s Senate votes. A messenger brought them to him every day after they closed session at the Curia and then his scribe took dictation, letters of thanks or disappointment to the senators who had a hand in each vote.
Sotas ushered me in. “You’re lucky,” he said to me in a low voice. “All the votes were in his favor today. And he has other good news which I’m sure he’ll impart to you.”
Apicius was in an excellent mood. He looked up from his papers and a broad smile crossed his face when he saw me. “Thrasius! You will never guess what happened last night! Publius Octavius tripped at his banquet. Fell right into a servant carrying a pot of soup and it splashed all over Caesar and Livia! Oh, what I would have given to see that unfold!” Apicius’s face reddened more with each chuckle.
I didn’t like to laugh at someone else’s expense, but I have to admit, picturing the scene did give me pleasure. Soon Apicius had me laughing as well, as he made up mocking scenarios of what the apology to Caesar must have sounded like.
I broke in, knowing I had to address the task at hand and remedy the situation of Apicata’s poor suitor waiting in the atrium.
“Apicius, I come on other business this afternoon,” I said, hoping my nervousness was not apparent.
He grew sober. “Oh, yes, what is it?” Apicius poured himself a cup of wine and offered me one. I declined but let him quaff his portion. He might need it.
“I brought someone to the villa to speak with you,” I said, unsure how he would take my news. “He’s waiting in the breakfast triclinium.”
“Let’s go.” Apicius motioned to Sotas to follow. “Tell me as we walk.”
We left the room and headed down the hallway toward the atrium. “Before I tell you, Apicius,” I said, still unused to the taste of his name in my mouth, “I want you to seriously consider what the man has to say.”
Apicius looked at me in earnest. “Now you have me intrigued! I have always trusted your advice, Thrasius. B
ut why must you warn me?”
“I’m unsure this man would normally have entered into your plans. I believe he’s worthy, however, and I want you to consider his petition in all seriousness.”
“Who is this man? Stop speaking in riddles!” Apicius no longer seemed inclined to humor me, but fortunately we had reached the door to the triclinium.
I ushered him in. Casca was sitting on the couch, holding a scroll of poetry Apicata had left in the room after breakfast. For one brief moment when we entered, the look on his face was pure terror. To his credit, he composed himself immediately and stood to greet us.
“Apicius, you remember Leonis Antius Casca? He has come here to speak with you about marrying your daughter.”
Apicius studied me long and hard, then addressed young Casca. His voice was laced in ice.
“You want to marry Apicata?”
“Yes, Gavius Apicius, I do.” Casca was the epitome of a man of determination. I saw his hand reach into the fold of his toga and touch Apicata’s note and I realized it was the strength of Cupid guiding this man.
Apicius walked over to the chair next to the couch and gestured for Casca to sit. I took a seat opposite them both. Sotas remained at his post next to the door.
“Tell me what you can bring to this family. Does your father agree with this union?”
Casca didn’t waver. “He does. He has remarked to me many times how much he would like to see our families united.”
Apicius responded with an incline of his head and his mouth turned up at the edges in a thoughtful smile. “Explain to me, then, why are you here instead of him?”
“He doesn’t have my conviction—that you would find me more suitable than Dolabella or Narses.”
I was surprised at the audacity of this young man. Apicius was also surprised. He didn’t respond right away, which was unusual. When he did, he sounded amused and—although Casca couldn’t know it—impressed. “And why do you think I would find you more suitable?”
“It is quite simple.” Casca looked at me, then at Apicius. “I love your daughter. They do not.”
Apicius snorted. “Love is not a prerequisite to marriage.”
“Quite true. However, I bring to you both power and influence—through my father now, but also in my future as I follow in his footsteps. I will continue to bring you and your family honor, and precious votes in the elections. And what I can do that Dolabella and Narses cannot is assure you I will take care of your daughter with every fiber of my being.”
“Go on,” Apicius said, intrigued. I was glad I had decided to bring Casca here on such impulse.
“I have watched you with Apicata over these many months. I know how you dote on her, how you hold her close to your heart. She is as important to you as your love for culinary delights,” he remarked.
Good, I thought. The boy had a sense of how to stroke Apicius’s ego, though I knew the truth that Casca—and likely even Apicius—did not. Food and fame would always be first in Apicius’s heart.
“I can promise you that your daughter will have love and laughter. Narses and Dolabella care not for her as much as they do for your money. My motives are pure. Few in this world have the chance to marry for love. Let your daughter be one of them.”
The silence was thick, like a sauce with too little water. Apicius did not speak for a long time. Instead, he sat there looking patiently at Casca, his face devoid of emotion.
I couldn’t take it any longer. “Apicata returns his favor.” As soon as I said the words I knew they lacked the confidence Casca had exhibited. Apicius’s silence had caused me doubt.
Apicius set a steely eye on me. I feared he would ask me if the two had been meeting and I would have to decide whether I should lie.
He didn’t. Instead he spoke to Casca. “There are other men who would be better suited to marrying Apicata. But I admire your gall. Give me one more reason why I should consider your petition, though it will likely not sway me.”
Casca paused, his eyes glancing somewhere in the vicinity of Apicius’s knees. I thought he was going to falter but then he lifted his gaze, and when he spoke I knew that if Cupid was not with him, Venus certainly was.
“Apicius, I should marry your daughter because we are meant to be. We are like rose wine and oysters, like truffles and pepper, like lentils and chestnuts or crane with turnip. We belong together like mullet and dill, milk and snails, suckling pig and silphium. You have known these loves, Gavius Apicius. You know the truth of their pairings and it is that truth I hold up to you now. Apicata and I are like spoon and plate. One is worth little without the other.”
My stomach fluttered. I closed my eyes as Casca finished, half expecting to see a blinding light around the boy, the protection afforded him by the gods.
Instead when my eyes opened I saw Apicius staring at him, his mouth slightly ajar but with his expression still strangely unreadable.
Apicius headed toward the door. “Sotas,” he said, pausing a moment before leaving, “have word sent to Antius Piso. I invite him to dinner to discuss a marriage arrangement between his son and my daughter the day after tomorrow. Thrasius will inform Timon of the dinner details.”
Then he was gone, Sotas trailing behind him, leaving Casca and me staring at each other, dumbfounded. I had not expected such a swift response. At minimum I thought Apicius might need some time to think.
“I’ll have Passia send for Apicata. You can tell her yourself,” I said, unable to keep a broad smile from my face. I stood up to go but Casca caught my arm.
“Thrasius, I will never be able to thank you enough.”
“Treat her well, as you promised.” I gripped his arm in return. “That will be thanks enough.”
In the hallway I ran into Passia. I had barely told her much of what had happened before she threw her arms around me and smothered me with kisses before running off to deliver the news.
I stopped in to see Apicius before I headed to the kitchen to let Timon know he would be planning a celebration cena two days hence. He was back in the library, finishing the dictation of his letters. Sotas stood next to the scribe, helping to seal and pile the letters to ready them for delivery.
Apicius waggled a finger at me. “You’d better be right about Casca.”
“I have a good feeling about him.” Which was true. I did. It was one of the first important things I thought Apicius had done right in many years.
“I know Piso is not fond of Publius Octavius. Now let’s hope he pushes favor more heavily in my direction or this marriage will be for naught.” He continued his pacing as he talked. “No matter, we have other things to worry about now.”
I deposited myself into the sumptuously padded chair near the window that had a view of the Forum below. It was one of my favorite views from the villa, with all of Rome’s most important happenings playing out among the temples, statues, and paths at the foot of the hill. The day was hot and many of the pedestrians walking in the gardens of the vestal virgins carried umbrellas to ward off the Roman sun. It was like watching many tiny butterflies flying in a cloud far in the distance. “What worries you?” I asked, not tearing my eyes away from the view.
“A messenger arrived. Sejanus wants to see me tomorrow.”
That got my attention. “Why?”
“I don’t know. He asked to see me, not Aelia. He’s coming tomorrow morning after I meet with my clients.” Apicius stopped his pacing. He stood with his hands on his hips, staring at the elaborate cat and bird mosaic on the floor.
“He wants something,” Sotas said.
Apicius rubbed a smudge at the corner of the mosaic with his toe. “Yes, but what?”
I stared out the window. One of the largest statues of the Divine Julius Caesar was casting its late-afternoon shadow. A flock of starlings flew through the shadow, a dark and ominous streak of inky feathers.
CHAPTER 18
When I awoke the next morning it was with a heart full of dread. All night I had tossed and turned, wonderin
g what Sejanus might want.
The salutatio was particularly slow. It seemed all of Apicius’s clients had something trivial to whine about.
“Lucius Atticus left graffiti on my house because I would not sell him my best pig,” complained Valerius Tiro.
Apicius made the same sort of promise he had been making all morning, agreeing to take care of matters, to protect, to fix, all for the want of a vote.
Taking care of Atticus meant I would arrange for a man to let Atticus know that if the graffiti didn’t stop, the result would be banishment from Apicius’s banquet couch. In return, Tiro would vote no against reinstating the Lex Sumptuaria, a 171-year-old law regulating the use of luxury items and limiting the display of public wealth. Caesar backed it but the majority of the senators and most of the equestrian and patrician population were against it. Although the plebs were excited about the law, most of them were clients whose patrons would exact the same vote requirements that Apicius did with Tiro. The likelihood of it passing was slim.
Tiro bowed. “Yes, yes, Apicius. I’ll cast no, I promise.”
It continued from there. “My neighbor keeps stealing melons from my garden!” Licinius Bucco wailed, demanding Apicius send guards to threaten the neighbor.
Sotas leaned down and said in a low voice, “If I had a melon right now, I know where I would put it.” I held back a laugh as the next client was ushered in.
• • •
The door slave ushered Sejanus into the atrium just as Sotas escorted out the last clients. Sejanus smiled broadly, which made the scar on his cheek tighten and twitch. He was clean shaven and wore a freshly bleached toga over the traditional red tunic of the highest of Caesar’s guards.
First there was the typical exchange of pleasantries. Then Apicius suggested they go to his library. I was not invited to attend my former master for the discussion but Sotas nodded at me, signaling that he would tell me of the exchange later.
Sejanus stayed for an hour but immediately after, Apicius left with Sotas to attend an assembly in the Forum. I departed at the same time to go to the school to teach classes, hoping I could walk with Sotas. Unfortunately, Apicius had Sotas join him in the litter as he sometimes did when he wanted to talk to someone as he traveled. As I walked to the school, I plotted in my head all the ways I could end Sejanus.