Out of the Waters-ARC

by David Drake

  Alphena had flashed angry, but she had quickly controlled that. Now she radiated a mixture of concern and defiance.

  She's learned to trust me, Hedia thought. Thank Venus for that mercy.

  "Tardus announced that he would leave because he saw that your father and his senatorial friend wanted to have a private meeting," Hedia said. "Do you understand what that means?"

  Alphena's mouth dropped open. "But that's crazy!" she said, showing--rather to her mother's surprise--that she did understand the threat. "Saxa wouldn't plot against the Emperor. He'd never do that!"

  "No, he wouldn't," Hedia agreed grimly, "but it's very hard to prove that you haven't done something. I prefer not to take that chance, so I invited Tardus to join us."

  The notion of wealthy senators plotting to overthrow the Emperor might not seem crazy to someone who didn't know Saxa personally; and the Emperor must certainly was crazy on the subject of possible threats to his life and government. A whisper in the wrong ear--which could be any ear in Carce nowadays--could mean a visit from the German Bodyguard and a quick execution in the basement of their barracks.

  "But me?" Alphena said. She wasn't protesting now, and her curiosity was reasonable.

  "One moment," Hedia said. To the maid holding the black bandeau and briefs she said, "Do you have gray?"

  The maid--all the maids--looked stricken.

  "Never mind," Hedia snapped. "Syra, bring a set of mine, they'll do in a pinch. And bring Lucilla too. There isn't time to do the hair properly, but Lucilla can manage something."

  "Your ladyship, they're here," Syra said. "The clothes too."

  Hedia looked around in surprise. At least a dozen of her personal servants--the line extended out onto the walkway--waited with undergarments ranging from pale gray-blue to dark gray, plus two caskets of jewelry and apparently--this was beyond the doorway--wraps and stoles.

  She chirped a laugh despite the tension. Her staff had instantly realized what Hedia had forgotten: Alphena's wardrobe contained nothing suitable for formal occasions except the silk dinner tunics that Abinnaeus had delivered the day before. Why, up until a moment ago the girl had been wearing a single knee-length tunic as though she were a field hand!

  "Yes," Hedia said aloud. She pointed to the palest gray combination and said, "Those."

  Maids began to dress the girl. Her staff had taken over from Alphena's. Florina seemed briefly to have considered arguing. That wouldn't have been a good idea, because Hedia would have welcomed a way to reduce tension.

  "As for why you and I will be present," Hedia said, feeling herself relax as her staff transformed Alphena from hoyden to young lady, "well, perhaps we needn't be, but this isn't a situation that I want to be blasé about. Nobody has ever imagined that I give a hoot about any government official--"

  She paused, considered, and went on with a wicked grin, "Except in some cases for what they have between their legs. And you, my dear, have the reputation of being even less political than I am."

  "Oh," said Alphena as the synthesis drifted over her like a violet cloud. "I guess I see."

  Maids cinched the thin silk under her bosom. She looked at Hedia and with a perfectly straight face and said, "I'll be sure to talk to Tardus about the fine points of swordsmanship, then."

  Hedia's expression froze. Then she realized the girl was joking and burst into laughter.

  "Here," she said, extending her arms to Alphena. "Hold me and raise your feet one at a time so that they can put your slippers on."

  The girl's feet were too wide for Hedia's shoes, but she had a pair of black cut-work sandals which would do. I really must get her properly outfitted, tomorrow if possible!

  "Then as soon as Florina--"

  The maid had done a creditable job in caring for her mistress, given her limited resources. Hedia was making a point of not denigrating her in front of the other servants.

  "--puts in the amethyst ear drops, we'll be ready to go."

  Though Hedia hadn't expected to eat with her husband tonight, she had dressed to greet the guests. That was a blessing, though she had enough experience with throwing on--or throwing back on--formal clothing in a hurry that she could have managed.

  Alphena raised her other foot. "But mother?" she said. "Those men with Tardus? I've seen them before."

  "Yes," Hedia said, frowning slightly at the return of a matter of no importance. "They were with him in the theater. I noticed them at the time."

  She stepped back and looked at her daughter, then beamed. "You look lovely, dear. Just lovely! Now, let's join the men."

  Alphena followed without protest, but as they reached the main staircase she said, "Mother, I've seen them somewhere else than the theater. And I don't think I like them."

  ***

  Alphena was excited to be dressed up like this--like a fine lady. She wouldn't have admitted that to a soul, certainly not to her stepmother and only in the very depths of her heart to herself, but she knew it was true.

  "I don't see why I have to wear such a long tunic, though," she muttered to Hedia as they walked arm-in-arm down the mezzanine corridor toward the main stairs.

  "Tush, dear," Hedia said easily. "Be thankful that you're not a man and having to wear a toga. And besides--"

  She glanced to the side, assessing Alphena with the dispassionate precision of a trainer judging a coffle of gladiators.

  "--you look quite nice in a long tunic. You move gracefully, and the sway of the fabric sets that off."

  Alphena glowed with pleasure, though that embarrassed her. "Ah...," she said. "Ah, thank you, mother."

  They reached the staircase. There was a flurry of motion within the cloud of servants surrounding them. Two maids snatched the front hem of Hedia's synthesis--it was a white as pure as sunlight on marble--and lifted it slightly as they skipped up the steps ahead of her; two more raised the back.

  Oh! thought Alphena. She hadn't considered the difficulties of going up or down stairs in a garment that broke at her ankles. I could have tripped and fallen! Oh, gods, that would have been awful!

  Then she wondered if Corylus would be dining with them. That thought made her so angry that she glared. She wasn't really looking at anything, but one of the maids her lifting the front of her skirt began to whimper. The girl didn't stumble or let the fabric slip, but the sound brought Alphena back to an awareness of her surroundings.

  Servants had set poles supporting vertical wicker lattices on the west side of the dining alcove. Lamps would be necessary before the meal was over, but for the moment the shades were keeping the sun out of the eyes of the diners on the central, west-facing couch. Priscus, the chief guest, reclined there, and a place for Tardus had been added below him.

  Saxa was at the head of the left-hand couch, adjacent to Priscus. Below him were Varus and the teacher, Pandareus.

  Corylus wasn't present. There was no reason he should have been. It was just a possibility, an obvious thing to wonder about, that was all.

  There was no bench on the right end. Instead, two chairs had been placed there with little side tables to hold the dishes or cup that the diner wasn't using at the moment.

  Alphena looked at the arrangement. Because I'm a girl!

  "I prefer to recline at dinner," she said to the dining room steward. She didn't know his name; he was plump and had a touch of red in his thinning hair. "Set me a place on the couch beside Lord Tardus."

  "My dear?" said her father, looking up with a startled-rabbit expression. "I think you'd, that is--"

  "Nonsense, dear heart," Hedia said cheerfully to her husband. "There's nothing improper about a lady reclining at dinner. I just prefer to sit upright."

  Turning to the steward she said, "Borysthenes, remove one of the chairs and set a place for my daughter on the couch."

  Servants were already bustling; when Lady Hedia gave directions, you obeyed or you wished you had. To the table generally she said, "I'm sure their lordships will be pleased to be joined by youth and beauty."
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  Priscus, twisting his body to better look toward the two women, chuckled. "If I were a great deal younger, your ladyship," he said, "I'd be tempted to show you just how much I would appreciate that opportunity. Younger or drunker."

  Hedia laughed like a string of little silver chimes. "Perhaps a trifle younger, Marcus dear," she said.

  Alphena settled onto the end of the couch, what would have been the middle couch if there had been the normal three. She took most of her meals in her suite, sitting upright. She'd only complained because her father had directed her to sit instead of reclining, and now she realized--as an instant's thought should have told her--that it was her stepmother, not Saxa, who had decided that.

  She'd seen an insult where there hadn't been one. She had to stop doing that and not pick unnecessary fights.

  Alphena grinned. She wasn't sure what the vision in the theater meant, but it seemed likely that it involved enough fighting for even the most pugnacious of young ladies.

  The servants had finished washing the guests' feet, and the first round of wine was being served from the mixing table. "We're having it three to one, Hedia," said Priscus with heavy gallantry. "I fear that if it were stronger, I'd find myself too ensorcelled by your beauty to remember the proprieties."

  Hedia and--a moment later--Saxa laughed. Tardus sipped his wine and said, "You mention sorcery, Marcus Tardus. Were you in the Theater of Pompey for our host's gift, The Conquest of Lusitania by Hercules? For it certainly seemed to me that the impresario was a magician to have achieved those effects. Quite marvelous, didn't you all think?"

  Priscus turned to look at his neighbor on the couch. "I wasn't present, no," he said, "but I've certainly heard enthusiastic descriptions. I suppose--"

  He gestured toward the teacher with a broad grin.

  "--that the impresario was one of you clever Greeks, eh Pandareus, my friend?"

  "So I've been told," Pandareus said blandly.

  "He was indeed, Lord Priscus," Varus said, sounding calmly interested. "Sometimes I wish I were more of an engineer so that I could understand such wonders, but my talents seem to limited to literature. And even in literature I'm only a spectator, I have learned."

  He smiled, but Alphena saw momentary wistfulness in her brother's expression.

  Alphena didn't know anything about rhetoric, but she understood dueling better than anyone else present. As servants placed a tray with deviled eggs and olives on the little table in the U of the diners, she said, "I noticed the attendants with you during the performance, Lord Tardus. If I noticed correctly, they're with you tonight as well. I wonder where you found them?"

  Tardus turned his head in surprise. "How interesting that you should ask, Lady Alphena," he said. He coughed onto the back of his hand, gathering time to respond.

  Alphena didn't smile, but she felt fiercely triumphant. I pinked you that time, didn't I, you old weasel!

  Tardus had been pushing her father to talk about something that he didn't want to. Indeed, Alphena wasn't sure that Saxa had any more knowledge of what had happened in the theater than Agrippinus, who'd been here in the house at the time, did. Perhaps Tardus was reacting to the embarrassing visit her father and brother had made to him the day before, but perhaps there was more to his curiosity.

  Regardless, Saxa was her father. She wasn't going to let this old man badger him when simply asking a blunt question would change the dynamic of the bout. Nobody expected perfect deportment and courtesy from Saxa's boyish daughter, after all.

  "Well, strictly speaking, I met them when they arrived here in Carce eight days ago," Tardus said, looking over his shoulder at Alphena. His gaze had a hard fixity that she hadn't expected from so old a man. "But as to where they're from, they say 'the Western Isles.'"

  "The Hesperides?" Saxa said, cocking his head with interest. "What language do they speak, if I may ask?"

  "They speak Greek to me," Tardus said. He spoke with studied care, quite different from the aggressiveness with which he had begun the discussion. "I suppose they have some language of their own, but I haven't heard them speaking it. And as for the Hesperides--that isn't their name for their home. Perhaps their 'Western Isles' are what Hesiod meant when he spoke of the Hesperides, but apart from summoning him from the dead, I don't see how we could be sure."

  "And even then," said Pandareus, "we couldn't be sure without teaching him modern geography first. In any event, I don't think--"

  He smiled faintly. Alphena decided that her brother's teacher was joking, which she hadn't been sure of at the start.

  "--that I would choose to start my discussion there if I had the opportunity. I would be much more interested in details of how he created his masterpieces. The style of the Theogony is quite different, it seems to me, from that of The Works and Days; more different than I would have expected to come from the pen--the throat, rather--of a single man."

  Priscus and Varus both laughed; Saxa blinked, then grinned weakly. Tardus was frowning, which was understandable, but there still seemed to be something odd about his demeanor.

  The discussion turned to how much Hesiod and Homer knew know about geography. Tardus listened glumly.

  Alphena grinned. She supposed the situation should please her: her mother's plan to convince Tardus that this was simply a literary evening was a resounding success. She was utterly, bone-deep, bored, however.

  She took a olive from the dish, then paused and looked at it more closely. A man's face had been carved into it. She popped the olive into her mouth--it was stuffed with anchovy paste, a startling but tasty combination--and picked another one, green this time. The features were female.

  "I wonder, Marcus Tardus?" Hedia said in a break as the fish course came in. "Are your Hesperians nobles from their own country who should be dining here instead of down with the servants?"

  "I don't...," Tardus said, clearly taken aback. "That is, I believe they are priests or wise men rather than, ah, nobles. From what they say. But they didn't wish to call attention to themselves."

  Are you still pleased that you blackmailed your way into this dinner, Lord Tardus? Alphena wondered. She took what looked like a small crab, complete to the stalked eyes; it proved to be a thin pastry shell stuffed with a spicy fish paste.

  "If I may ask, Lord Tardus?" Pandareus said. "You suggest that your guests are the western equivalent of the Magi. The Magi ruled Persia until Darius broke their power in a coup, and even now under the Arsacids they have a great deal of authority. They are certainly as worthy of a place at Gaius Saxa's table as--"

  He curled his hand inward.

  "--a professor of rhetoric."

  Pandareus had done full justice to the eggs and olives, and he was now attacking a seeming mullet molded from minced crabmeat. Alphena decided that his lanky frame was a result of privation rather than ascetic philosophy.

  "I don't know what political arrangements exist in the Western Isles!" Tardus said. "The, the... my guests, that is, they said that they would prefer to eat with the servants. They didn't expect to arouse comment, as I understand it. They've come to Carce to observe our customs, and they hoped to do that without their presence affecting those observations."

  The conversation drifted back to literature when Saxa mentioned Plato's conceit of a Scythian visitor to comment on Athenian society. Tardus ate morosely without adding much to the discussion of fictitious Brahmins, Magi and Egyptians.

  Alphena didn't speak either. She neither knew nor cared anything about the books the men were talking about; and besides, she was puzzling over the Westerners themselves.

  Alphena knew them from somewhere; she'd felt that when time she saw them in the theater. That didn't seem possible if they had arrived so recently in Carce, though; and if Tardus was lying--why should he be on a question like that?--then it still didn't explain why she had no recollection of where she had seen the trio.

  The talk droned on. The men might as well have been chattering in Persian for how much Alphena could unders
tand of it.

  She thought of the theater and her vision of a man tearing his way through the sparkling city. She thought of the way he had looked at her, and the recognition she had felt in his gaze as well.

  Alphena ate mechanically, and thought. She almost could remember.

  ***

  "I see you approve of father's cook, master," Varus said in a low voice to Pandareus, who had just taken another fig-pecker stuffed with a paste of figs and walnuts before being grilled.

  "My dear student," Pandareus said, pausing with the skewer just short of his mouth. "For a man who can't always afford sausage with his porridge, this meal is the very ambrosia of the gods."

  He paused, pursing his lips in thought. "I misspoke," he said. "This meal would be the true ambrosia to anyone, whatever his background."

  Varus smiled. The meal had been both pleasant and stimulating, which was a surprise after Tardus had invited himself to join them. Not that Tardus would have been an improper guest under normal circumstances, given his background and interests, but these circumstances were scarcely normal.

  He glanced at his stepmother, sitting primly across from him as she nibbled a quail drumstick in which the bone had been replaced by a breadstick and the meat chopped with spices. Thank Jupiter for Hedia! Varus himself hadn't understood the threat until Priscus whispered an explanation while they mounted the stairs together.

  "I am a collector of objects which are supposed to have, ah, spiritual properties, Gaius Saxa," Tardus said. "I suppose you are aware of that?"

  He means "magical properties," Varus translated. But magic could be seen as a means of threatening an Emperor who was reputed to be something of a magician and astrologer himself, whereas "spiritual" had no dangerous connotations.

  "I believe many of Carce's older families have objects from the time when the city was rising to greatness," Saxa said. His tone was more cautious than Varus would have expected. His father probably didn't know what was going on, but at least he was beginning to realize that there was cause for concern. "I'm not surprised that the Sempronii Tardi do. We of the Family Alphenus do also."