The Roman's Revenge

by Caroline Storer

  Thankfully Portia never said anything further, and they left Verenus’s villa and made their way down the road to Portia's maternal grandmother's villa. The villa wasn’t too far away from Verenus’s villa, and five minutes later they were in the atrium of the older woman's villa, waiting to be received by one of the most powerful women of her time.

  Octavia Maximus was the widow of one of the most influential Senators during Nero’s reign, and Livia was sure she must be able to shed some light on what had happened around that time.

  “Portia! What a surprise. Come in, come in and introduce me to this lovely young woman,” Octavia said a few minutes later, as she swept into the atrium, before taking a seat on one of the long couches.

  “Grandmother, this is Livia a very good friend of mine. She has come to speak with you about something which happened many years ago.”

  Delight tinkled in the old woman's eyes. “Really? How intriguing. I do love a mystery. Come, sit next to me my dear,” she said patting the silk cushion next to her, “And tell me what you want to know.”

  Once Livia had briefed her on who she was married too – although Livia suspected the older woman already knew, and was just being polite – she asked Octavia what she knew about the conspiracy against Nero.

  “Of course I remember it,” she said, warming to the subject, “It was all everyone talked of for weeks. The men who conspired against Nero were dealt with swiftly, they either died by their own hand, were executed or were exiled. It was a nervous time for all of us, never knowing if the Praetorian Guard would come to your villa or not.”

  “I was wondering if you knew of Lucius Quadratus Aurelius, and his involvement in it?”

  “Well, yes, of course. Although at the time we were all amazed when he was arrested. He had not long returned to Rome you see, barely a year. He was a rich merchant, that was true enough, but he wasn’t interested in furthering his political ambition, not like some merchants were. He seemed to be content just to ensure his wife and son were well cared for…” Her words trailed off for a moment, before she continued, her mouth twisting, “The gossip was rife at the time as I recall. There was much speculation as to why he’d come to be involved in the plot in the first place. He had no real reason to want Nero dead. Having lived for so long in Africa he had no axes to grind so to speak. Not like some in Rome. Yes, it was most strange. Most strange indeed.”

  Livia frowned, “Do you know why he left Rome in the first place, and why he returned?”

  “Well, now that is a story I do know something about. And I remember it well. The scandal rocked all of Rome at the time.” Leaning forward, the old lady's eyes lit up with the memory, “About eleven years before the conspiracy, Antonia had been promised to another – an arranged marriage of course – as the daughter of one of Rome's richest merchants she was betrothed in order to strengthen two already strong families and thereby enhance her father's standing. But hours before she was due to marry she eloped with Lucius. The repercussions were felt around Rome for weeks I can tell you. No one knew where they had gone. It was as if they had disappeared off the face of the earth. It turns out they went to Alexandria.”

  Livia started. Alexandria! How coincidental that it was on a ship to the same destination that she had met Metellus. “Metellus was born there?” she asked, a moment later.

  Octavia nodded, “Yes. He was born two years after they eloped. I understand that his mother and father settled quite well in Alexandria. As a successful merchant before they eloped, Lucius found it easy enough to live and work in what is undisputedly one of the largest trading ports in Africa.”

  “So why did they return to Rome?”

  “I heard it was Antonia's doing. She missed her family here in Rome. She also wanted to make peace with Lucius’s family, as well as wanting a more settled and secure upbringing for Metellus. After ten years of being in exile, a self-imposed exile mind you, Antonia was convinced there had been enough water under the bridge, and it would be safe to return. And it was at first. Enough time had passed for them all to settle with remarkable ease back into Roman life.

  Lucius, already a rich merchant in Alexandria, merely exchanged one trading port for another.” Portia's grandmother sighed, “But of course the idyll didn’t last. Within a year of their return Lucius was dead, and Antonia and Metellus found themselves exiled again. This time by Nero. He’d confiscated all of Lucius’s worldly goods, and left Antonia destitute.” Octavia shook her head and tutted, “The rest, as they say, is history.”

  Octavia fell silent, and her eyes took on a faraway look before she continued, her head shaking, “But, considering everything that had happened between Verenus and Lucius, at least he didn’t hold a grudge against Antonia and Metellus. We all thought very highly of him when he took in Antonia and Metellus after Lucius’s death, offering both his protection and patronage.”

  Livia frowned, “But I don't understand, Octavia? Why did Verenus have a grudge against his own brother?”

  “Well,” Octavia said on a deep breath, warming to her story, “Because Antonia had been promised to him in marriage that is why. It was Verenus who was jilted on his wedding day. Antonia was in love with Lucius all along, and he with her apparently, although no one knew it of course. They had managed to keep it a secret. As I said earlier, they eloped, just hours before the wedding ceremony. Verenus was beside himself with anger and grief – he was very much in love with Antonia it seemed.”

  Octavia leaned across and patted Livia’s hand when she saw her stunned expression. “The shock I see on your face, very much reflected the shock we all felt at the time my dear.”

  CHAPTER 21

  “Are you sure? When?”

  “Yes, Master. Yesterday-”

  “Yesterday,” Metellus shouted, interrupting his slave. “Why wasn't I told sooner?”

  “I…I do not know Master. I…”

  Metellus sighed, cutting off the stuttering words before waving his hand in apology, “It is not your fault, Titus. Thank you. You may leave now.”

  Once the slave had left, Metellus went over and sat at his table, leaning his head back against the wooden headrest. He closed his eyes for a moment, and assimilated what he had just been told.

  Livia's father was dead.

  Augustus Drusus, the man who had dominated his entire life since the age of ten was finally dead. He should be pleased shouldn't he? Shouting his thanks from the rooftops of Rome, giving a huge offering to the gods for bringing him such good news about his death.

  But he wasn’t. Instead he felt nauseous, as if he had just swallowed a flagon of rancid wine. Rubbing the back of his neck in frustration he stood up, the force of his movements causing his chair to tip over, as he paced the floor of his office.

  He hadn't seen Livia in over a week, not since he’d asked Grasus to secure the services of Spurius Proba. Instead, he’d been staying here in his office, sleeping on a pallet, which had been hastily obtained for him.

  He’d done so because he needed time to think. Time to rationalise what Livia had told him about her father. He knew, deep down, he had to get to the truth once and for all. Which was why he’d employed Spurius Proba to dig up the past and get to the truth – no matter how long it took.

  But it had been so hard keeping away from her this past week. Night after night, he tossed and turned on the thin pallet, as temptation clawed at him, testing his resilience, goading him to return to Livia, and the pleasure he found in her arms. But he had resisted. Until now…

  The room was in darkness, and for a moment Metellus thought the bedchamber was empty, but a slight movement near the window drew his eyes towards it like a moth to a flame.

  Livia! She was sitting on the window ledge, knees drawn up to her chest, staring out into the darkness of the atrium beyond.

  “Livia.” He whispered, walking towards her, not wanting to startle her. He saw her shiver and Metellus winced. Maybe he shouldn’t have come. But it was too late, so he continued, his voice
quiet, “I only found out a short while ago about your father.”

  He saw her body stiffen before she turned to look at him, staring at him for a long time before she said, “Of course you did. I wouldn’t have expected anything different.”

  Her voice was flat and emotionless, her face as white as marble. It was only her eyes which showed any emotion. They were haunted, the hazel of her eyes so dark, he felt himself drowning in them. As he approached her she turned away to look back out of the window. For a few moments indecision plagued him. Livia seemed so helpless, so vulnerable, all he wanted to do was take her in his arms and kiss the pain away.

  “I'm sorry-”

  “No!” The word was loud in the stillness of the room, and Metellus heard the anger in her voice as she turned to face him once again. It blazed out of her eyes, and was evident in the rawness of her voice.

  “No, Metellus. Do not say you are sorry. You are not sorry at all. My father is dead. You should be offering untold prayers and offerings to the gods.”

  He could hear hysteria replacing anger, rising in its intensity with every word she spat out at him. She was right. He wasn’t sorry. He couldn’t be. But he realised he did care about Livia, about how she was feeling. He cared very much-

  “I want a divorce.”

  Metellus clamped his jaw shut as he bit back a retort. He realised he needed to be calm before he answered her, and so for several long moments he said nothing. Eventually he replied in an even, measured, tone, “There will be no divorce, Livia.”

  “But why?” This time her voice was anguished, and she jumped off the window ledge and approached him. The sound of her sandals on the marble floor the only noise in the room as she walked towards him.

  “Why?” she repeated, when she stood next to him. “You’ve got your revenge. My father is of no use to you anymore. You’ve ruined our family. Flavius is in your debt for a lifetime. As am I-”

  “No!” Metellus interrupted her heated words. “There will be no divorce, Livia. You will give me a son.”

  He heard Livia gasp, saw the haunted expression appear on her face once more as she stood paralysed to the spot.

  She shook her head, the movement slow, before she whispered, “I do not want children.”

  Metellus clenched his fists, “Why?” The word was pushed past tight lips. “You may already be pregnant.”

  “I'm not.” This time the words were firm, her chin lifting with resolve, as she met his gaze without any expression on her face.

  Metellus nodded slowly, “I see.”

  “No, you don't. I do not want children, because my mother died in childbirth having me.” Pain was etched all over her face as she spoke, and Metellus swallowed hard, fighting his emotions before she carried on, “I do not want to bring a child into this world, to be raised by a father who only married to satisfy his sick desire for revenge. And who, if I were to die, would abandon my child.”

  A long silence fell between them, until Metellus said softly, “I wouldn’t abandon our child, Livia. And I wouldn’t abandon Elisha either.”

  He saw indecision flicker across her face before she turned her back on him, and walked back to the window to stare out into the inky blackness beyond. He stood there for a long time, battling with his own emotions, before he said, “There will be no divorce, Livia. Ever.” He saw her back stiffen, and without another word he left her alone with her troubled thoughts.

  Livia rubbed her forehead, trying to ease the headache she’d woken up with these past two mornings ever since she and Metellus had argued the other night. She’d hardly slept at all, tossing and turning most of the night as Metellus’s words had churned around in her head, over and over again.

  Her demand for a divorce had been met with his blunt refusal, but truth be told, she shouldn’t have really been surprised. Of course he wouldn’t want a divorce. To do so would have made all his plans of becoming one of Rome’s elite turn to dust. If he divorced her she would return to her paterfamilias – and she would, once again, be under Flavius’s control.

  But it wasn’t just the issue of divorce that had plagued Livia and had caused her to lose so much sleep these past nights. It was also the fact that she had blatantly lied to her husband when he’d questioned her about being pregnant.

  Even now she couldn’t quite believe how brazen she had been when she’d looked him the eye and told him that she wasn’t pregnant; when the truth was the complete opposite. She’d not had her monthly flow for over two months now; and if the slight swelling and soreness of her breasts were any indication, not to mention the nausea she felt on awakening in the mornings, then she was definitely going to have a child. Metellus’s child. She knew she should have told him, and the guilt had eaten at her ever since. But she had been too raw, too hurt to tell him the truth.

  She was also scared. Her outburst the other night had been a cry from the heart. She was terrified of dying in childbirth, just as her mother had. Maybe she wasn’t being rational about it, but it was something she had been aware of ever since she had been a small child, and had first asked her father where her mother was.

  His abrupt words about her dying in childbirth, as she gave birth to Livia, had impacted hugely on her. She’d never forgotten the stark pain she’d seen on his face, not to mention the underlying implication that it had somehow been her fault. The words, and her father’s reaction, was something she’d carried with her every single day since. And even though Metellus had said he would look after any child she might have if she were to die, there was always the real possibility that he could change his mind-

  “Are you all right, Livia?”

  The whispered words intruded on Livia’s thoughts and returned her to the present with a jolt. The fact that she was sitting next to Portia, and was in the middle of her father’s funeral was testimony to how much guilt she was holding inside that she had forgotten where she was! Nodding slightly, Livia turned to where Portia sat next to her. Giving her friend a brief smile she said, “Yes, I think so. I just wish this day was over, that is all.”

  Portia never said anything, just smiled at her friend in agreement and squeezed her hand in sympathy. Thankful for her friends support, Livia turned back to concentrate on what the magistrate was saying as he delivered another eulogy in memory of her father.

  The death of such a prominent man, as her father had been, warranted all the pomp and ceremony Rome could provide, and Livia knew she still had several hours to go before she could leave.

  As she listened to another Senator praise her father for all the good works he’d done for Rome, she couldn't stop the small pang of envy that curled inside her.

  Envy, for all those unknown people of Rome who had benefited from her father’s hard work, and dedication, in making it the great city it was. It was as if he had lavished all his love, all his attention, on the city and had none left over to give to her.

  Oh, how she’d longed for a small part of that love to be given to her, to sustain her throughout the lonely childhood she’d had. Only it hadn't. Day after day, ever since she was old enough to understand human emotion, she had craved it, yearned for it. And it had never come – well not until last month when her father had finally opened up to her whilst on his death bed.

  Livia sighed. And now it was too late. Her eyes glanced across the room to where Flavius stood, his face impassive, emotionless, as he listened to the Senator speak.

  There was no doubt in Livia's heart her brother would want nothing to do with her ever again. He’d made his intention clear enough on the day of her marriage to Metellus. But it still hurt. Even though they had never been close, her half-brother was still the only family she had left. And, she realised, her false bravado the other day to Metellus about getting a divorce had, in hindsight, been stupid.

  Even if Metellus had consented to giving her a divorce, she knew with a certainty Flavius wouldn’t have taken her back. Why should he? In his eyes she would have brought shame to the family for a second time
, and she would have had to rely on his charity.

  And charity had always been in short supply when it came to Flavius’s feelings towards her. She knew why of course. It was hardly a secret within the household. Livia’s mother had been her father’s lover for several years before they had married; and when Flavius’s mother had died when Flavius’s was eight, their father had married Livia’s mother barely two weeks after Flavius’s mother had been buried.

  Six months after they had married, Livia had been born. Her birth must have been salt in a festering wound for the young Flavius, and even though her mother had died in childbirth, as far as he was concerned, she was the product of his father’s affair, and the betrayal of his own mother’s memory. His only consolation was that her father, too caught up in his grief for the only woman he’d ever loved, had abandoned his new born daughter, and Flavius had once again become the most important person in her father’s life.

  Livia sighed. No, she was under no illusion that Flavius would want anything to do with her now her father was dead. She had bartered, given to Metellus, to pay off her father’s, and Flavius’s debts, and was, in reality tied to Metellus for life.

  She had no money. No status. No power. A woman, even one married or living in a rich household, was at the mercy of either their father's or their husband's will. Roman Society was very much a male dominated world…

  As she watched Flavius, she saw him stiffen, and his eyes narrow, as he looked over to the doorway of the Senate building. She glanced over to see what had caught Flavius’s attention, and when she saw Metellus standing in the doorway she couldn’t stop her small gasp of surprise.

  Portia must have seen him too, because she leaned in and whispered, “Did you know he was turning up?”

  “No.” She felt a myriad of emotions flood through her. Anger. Annoyance, but mostly confusion. Why had he turned up? It made no sense. She watched in stunned surprise, as he took a seat directly across the Senate from her.