by Crystal King
Trio had joined us as well. “I don’t understand how he’s going to enforce it.” A young slave boy rubbed his back, pounding and pinching the skin. “Does he mean to include the cult of Isis?”
“No, no,” one of the elderly senators responded. “Isis is a Roman cult now, not Egyptian. Very different from the cults of Horus and Bast. Dreadful gods those are.”
“What about all the Jews in the army? By Jove, he’s even got a few Jews as captains. He can’t possibly want to reduce the size of his army more than he has to, not with the barbarians in the north still unsettled,” said Apicius.
“He plans to send them to Germania!” The same senator chuckled. “Or to other, less desirable regions, if there is such a thing. Why should the Jews be stationed in the best lands?”
“What I don’t understand is why he cast out the astrologers,” said another man across the room, hidden by the steam.
“Ahh, interesting,” I muttered, suddenly realizing why Tiberius had questioned Apicata about Glycon. I was filled with bitter happiness at the thought that Glycon would be forced to flee Rome.
I noticed that Sotas, who had been massaging Apicius’s back, also paused at the words. Apicius shrugged for him to continue.
The old senator had the answer once again. “All of them except his shadow, Thrasyllus. He trusts him implicitly. It’s all the other astrologers whom he fears. What if one of them predicted his death? Or a revolt in Rome? And it came true? Ironic, isn’t it?”
“How so?” asked Apicius.
“He bans other religions for their superstitions and yet he is more superstitious than them all.”
“Some of the astrologers are terribly accurate, though. I could see why Tiberius is afraid of them,” Trio countered. “I mean, look at how accurate your astrologer was, Apicius. How many things he told you came true?”
Apicius was silent for a moment, then he stood up suddenly, knocking Sotas backward and startling all in the bath. “And how would you know how many predictions have come true?” His voice echoed through the vast chamber, reaching the ears of hundreds of bathers. “You know nothing! Nothing at all! You know only of Caesar’s games and of scarfing down all the food on your friends’ couches. You know nothing of me or my life.”
We all watched, openmouthed, as he stormed out of the bath, naked, his penis shriveled and nestled underneath his big belly. Sotas managed to regain his balance and ran to follow him but slipped on the wet tiles and hit his head, knocking himself out. I cursed under my breath.
I could hear Apicius still yelling, “Nothing! You know nothing!”
I rushed to Sotas’s side. “Tycho, fetch our clothes, and fast!”
Trio came to help me, lifting the big slave’s head to see if he had cracked it open. I breathed a sigh of relief when there was no blood. “What was that about?” Trio asked me. There was no anger in his voice, only concern.
“Glycon predicted Aelia’s death.”
Trio drew in a breath that whistled between his teeth. “I didn’t realize. I was thinking of how he predicted the arrival of your son.”
“Did you see Apicius?” I asked when Tycho returned with our clothes.
“No, but people were talking about a naked man leaving the bath.”
“Help Sotas and make sure he sees a physician, please. I’ll go find Apicius.”
“Yes, Master.”
“No, you go with Thrasius,” Trio said to Tycho. “I’ll bring Sotas to Apicius’s villa in my litter.” Trio waved us on.
I ran out of the baths, not bothering to put my sandals on. Tycho followed and I was grateful for Trio’s kindness in the wake of Apicius’s terrible outburst.
I decided to go toward home, hoping Apicius might have headed there. We didn’t have to run far before we could hear the jeers of a crowd. When we reached the commotion, my worst fears were realized.
Apicius walked in a slow daze through the crowd, his body still pink from the bath and the scraping of the strigils. He wasn’t clean, however. Instead he was covered with dust from the streets and the scraps of vegetables thrown at him. A big leaf of lettuce was stuck to the back of his head.
Children tossed pebbles and handfuls of straw at him, laughing as they circled wide. Women made the sign of the evil eye and turned their heads away. Men hurled obscenities at him.
Nothing seemed to touch Apicius, not beyond the shell of his skin. I rushed to him and Tycho helped me push the people away. He had brought a couple of towels and I wrapped them around my old master, doing my best to shield him from other vegetables still being tossed in our direction. He didn’t seem to register that I was there.
“That’s old Apicius!” someone yelled. It was a taberna owner who waggled a crispy chicken leg at us over the heads of the patrons on the stools of his roadside counter.
A new chant arose. “Pig! Gorger! Glutton! Pig! Gorger! Glutton!”
“We’ve got to get him out of here!” I tried to lead Apicius out of the frenzied crowd but he was slow and did not want to move.
“Aelia.”
I heard him whisper her name just as a flurry of thrown figs exploded against the back of my tunic.
A horn broke through the sounds of the crowd. Nervous that it was one of Caesar’s guards, I turned to look.
Trio’s litter and a handful of his armed guards cut through the people surrounding us. Taunting a naked old man was one thing. Braving the wrath of a patrician was another. While the chants continued, the vegetable throwing stopped and the crowd parted until the litter came up to us. “Come now, get in,” Trio said, opening up the curtains. His slaves helped me lift Apicius into the litter until he sat next to where Sotas lay among the cushions.
Apicius only stared ahead.
“Thank you, Trio,” I said once the litter was moving again and I had caught my breath.
“No, do not thank me. I can only hope that if I fall prey to such misfortune someone like you would look after me. It is the least I can do.”
Sotas awoke shortly after. “Dominus Apicius?” he asked before he had even opened his eyes. I marveled at his loyalty. We explained what had happened as Sotas sat up. He moved over to sit next to his master. “Dominus? I am here if you need me.”
Apicius said nothing. The entire way home he continued to stare ahead, seemingly unaware of his surroundings.
Trio stayed with us at the villa until the physician arrived; then he left, promising to check in with us the next day. The physician proclaimed it to be an acute case of melancholia and advised us to give him opium and to feed him a strict diet of mushrooms and leeks—no meat.
Apicius ate when we fed him but did not speak. He seemed happy when he had opium and he would talk on occasion but it was mostly only to speak his dead wife’s name.
“It’s been nearly two years. Why now?” I ranted to Sotas the first night of his illness.
His response was matter-of-fact. “He has been cursed.”
“But by whom?”
“He has many enemies.”
I could not argue with him.
• • •
Apicius’s illness reminded me much of how Apicata reacted when we told her she could not marry Casca. I remembered it was Apicius who broke through to her. I hoped his daughter might do the same for him now.
On the seventh day I sent an urgent message to her. I hadn’t wanted to worry her but now I was afraid she might be our only hope of having Apicius back.
Apicata came the moment she heard the news. “I will help him,” she said after the door slaves let her in. She brushed past me toward his chamber. I stood aside and let her enter. She shooed Sotas and the other slaves out, then closed the door behind her.
She remained with him for an hour before emerging. Sotas, Passia, and I waited in the nearby atrium, barely speaking. Sotas paced the corridor along the garden and we watched, holding hands and hoping.
Apicius was with her, dressed in a simple blue tunic and a pair of his fine red shoes. “My father is hungry,”
she announced. She turned to him. “What would you like, Father?”
“Something other than a plate of damned mushrooms.” A broad smile lit up his face. “Thrasius, I think I am craving chicken. What about one of your Parthian dishes tonight?”
I gaped, unable to believe the transformation that had taken place in Apicius’s eyes. “Yes,” I finally managed. “Chicken. I’ll make chicken!”
“Good! I think I’ll help tonight. It’s been a long time since I was in the kitchen.”
He turned down the hall and Sotas and Passia hurried to follow him. I stopped Apicata.
“What did you say to him?”
She smiled and it was a sad, wistful gesture. “I lied to him. I told him Mother had come to me in a dream. And that she was still with us, watching over him, wanting him to move on.”
I hugged her, then we walked to the kitchen to help Apicius make a dish of Parthian chicken.
PART X
28 C.E. to 29 C.E.
SAUCE FOR GRILLED MULLET
Pepper, lovage, rue, honey, pine nuts, vinegar, wine, liquamen, a little oil; warm it through and pour on.
—Book 10.1.11, The Fisherman
On Cookery, Apicius
CHAPTER 26
“Apicius is back! Apicius is back!” Fourteen-year-old Junius’s voice rang through the villa corridors. I looked at Passia and grabbed her hand. Together we followed our son to the front gate, where Apicius was being helped out of his litter.
In the last two years he’d traveled to various temples all over the Empire, praying to the gods to bring Aelia to him in a dream as she had “appeared” to his daughter. Neither Apicata nor I had the heart to tell him she had lied about the dream. Every once in a while we would receive a letter brought by a courier telling us of the cities he had visited. He also sent back scores of recipes, costly delicacies, and ideas to further grace Caesar’s table during his absence, which I executed, much to the delight of the diners on Caesar’s Roman couches.
Apicius was a little more rotund than when he had left and his skin was tanned a dark brown, which made the wrinkles around his eyes and mouth more pronounced.
Unlike his master, Sotas had grown even more muscular, likely from additional exercise on their travels. Plus, if he had to assist in carrying Apicius’s litter at all, it would have kept him strong. Like Apicius, he was in his late fifties, but you would not have known it from his appearance.
Apicius was jovial and glad to have returned. There was a light in his eyes that shone in a way I had not seen in years.
He gave us all hugs and a broad smile, but the biggest he reserved for Junius.
“By Jove! Who is this handsome young man? I daresay I know him not!” He winked at my son, clearly pleased to see him.
“I’ve grown a little, I know,” Junius said, smiling.
“A little? It is as though I’ve grown a statesman in my own house! Pretty soon you’ll be running off to the Senate for a vote, or taking to the Forum to argue a case. I can hear them now. ‘Junius Thrasius Gavius Apicius, the great orator, is ready to present his side of the story!’ ”
Both Junius and I beamed with pride. Apicius put an arm around my son and started to walk toward the house, asking him a variety of questions about his studies. “Ready the triclinium for the cena tonight, Thrasius. I think I’d like to see a few old friends.”
I was only too happy to oblige.
• • •
“I am glad you are hosting cenae once more. We missed you and your wit!” Trio lifted his glass to toast Apicius. It was a warm May evening and we dined outside in the garden under the stars of Rome.
“You went far in your travels, Apicius. You must have seen some amazing places,” Celera said.
Apicius beamed. “I did.”
“Which was your favorite?”
“It is hard to say! Hera’s temple in Paestum is magnificent but it is hard to rival the home of Venus in Heliopolis.”
He had told me about the experience he had in Heliopolis, in which the goddess told him in a dream to go home and to “waste not fresh tears over old griefs.” I think his experience was more attributable to an opium pipe than anything else; Euripides first said that line several hundred years ago. Still, it was those words that brought him and Sotas home and for that I was grateful.
Apicius smiled as he plucked some grapes from the tray on the table in front of him. “I am glad to share this meal with you as well. It has been too long and Thrasius has become overconfident.” He winked at me.
“Oh, Apicius, we haven’t even talked about the big news! You must be pleased!”
“Pleased about what?”
Trio’s eyes widened. “About Junilla, of course!”
Apicius looked to me for an answer but I could only shrug. I hadn’t talked to Apicata in over a week. Junilla was seven—what news could there be?
“I haven’t had a chance to see her yet. She sent word that she could not come tonight, but she would see me soon.”
“Sejanus managed to convince poor, addled Claudius to engage his son to Junilla.”
I wondered at the news. Claudius was Tiberius’s nephew and not well liked. He was sickly and had a clubfoot that made him the butt of many Roman jokes.
Trio motioned his slave to him, then wiped the grease from his fingers in the boy’s long hair.
“Fetch him a napkin,” I said to Tycho, who waited in the shadows.
“No, no, that’s what Hector is here for.” Trio waved dismissively at his slave, who stepped back to his post along the triclinium wall.
“You must be proud,” Celera said. “Claudius’s son could be Caesar one day.”
“Indeed,” Apicius said.
The boy, Claudius Drusus, was thirteen. Because there were already several men of Imperial nobility named Drusus, he went by the nickname Albus, which was a nod to his very pale skin. I marveled that Sejanus was so desperate to hold power in Rome that he would look for such a long-reaching opportunity as to marry Junilla to the boy. What was he planning? Then again, if Albus became Caesar at a young age, Sejanus would be very powerful indeed.
“I admit, I do feel sorry for the girl, growing up knowing Claudius will be her father-in-law,” Trio said.
I had been thinking the same thing. Caesar’s nephew, Claudius, always seemed somewhat slow and deformed. “I hear he spends all his time locked away in his library, writing histories.”
“Yes, when he’s not shuffling through the palace playing oaf to young Caligula,” Celera agreed. “He lets the boy torment him.”
“And that wife of his!” Apicius leaned in conspiratorially. “She looks like a monster straight out of Virgil’s tales!”
Apicius laughed with his friends but I saw the glimpse of darkness in his eyes.
• • •
In the morning, Apicius had Sotas rouse me early. I didn’t need to ask why.
“Why didn’t she tell us the news in her message to me?” Apicius said once we were in the litter, with Tycho and Sotas walking alongside beyond the closed curtains. I had retired early the night before and missed any previous tirade.
“The note probably came from Sejanus. He rarely lets her out of his sight. He’s ambitious and we are of little consequence. He rarely speaks to me unless he requires me to attend a dinner. He has also kept you from Caesar for many years.”
“I am barely a dog to him,” Apicius muttered.
• • •
We rode in silence until we came to a sudden stop at our destination. The door slaves ushered us into the atrium, where Sejanus met us. He wore a blinding-white toga, so fresh and white I could still smell the chalk in its fibers from a few paces away.
“To what do I owe the pleasure of this visit?”
I thought I detected a sneer in his voice although the smile on his lips revealed nothing.
“We heard news of the engagement,” Apicius began pleasantly. “We wanted to pay our respects and bring a gift.” He signaled Sotas forward and the bod
y-slave passed Sejanus a small sack of what I assumed were a number of heavy coins meant to help supplement Junilla’s dowry.
“That is gracious of you! We are very pleased about the union, of course.”
“We’d love to see Apicata and congratulate her,” I started to say, but was stopped when Livia and Apicata entered from the far entrance to the atrium. Livia leaned on one of her slaves as she walked.
I froze for a second, then forced myself to relax. It was always an effort to hide my thoughts about Livia.
“Father!” Apicata glided across the room to where we stood. She threw her arms around his neck and enveloped him in a hug. “I didn’t know you were coming home! Oh, I’m so glad to see you!” She reached up to kiss each cheek.
It was as I expected, she hadn’t even known that her father had returned.
“We came to congratulate you about Junilla.” He sounded put off. I sighed to myself, wishing he were better at hiding his emotions.
While this small scene was playing out, I overheard Livia talking to one of her bodyguards, a few words that sounded like “the boy or the girl, either one.” I watched out of the corner of my eye as the guard slipped off into the corridor.
I averted my eyes when her gaze turned toward me.
“I sent a messenger days ago,” Sejanus was saying. “I never heard back from you.”
He was lying. I watched his nostrils twitch as he talked, a trick I had learned from Fannia, may the shades treat her well.
“No messenger came.” Apicius turned his attention to Livia. “Livia, it is, as always, a pleasure to see you.” He smiled broadly and bowed his head toward her in respect. I inclined my head as well but did not smile. Apicius did not know about Livia’s part in his wife’s death. But I did and nothing could make me smile at such a harpy.
“I’m sure you are happy to have your granddaughter joined in union to my great-grandson. It seems you are to become part of my family.” She sounded about as pleased as a bath attendant at the front counter stuck taking coins all day.