by Sandi Rog
“Are you well?” He gripped her elbow.
“I think so,” she said. “Just a little dizzy.”
He escorted her to the front door of the home of Maximus Demetrius Arnensis.
“How are you feeling, mistress?” David penetrated her with concerned eyes, while at the same time keeping a distant front.
“Better. Now that my feet are on solid ground.”
“I have to take care of the litters,” he said, his eyes still holding hers. “So I won’t be able to escort you inside.”
Her disappointment was so great that she couldn’t have the support of her best friend during this difficult day that she didn’t trust herself to speak, so she simply nodded.
David gave a reassuring squeeze on her elbow then quickly left so as not to raise suspicion.
A slave formally greeted Alethea and the others at the door and escorted them into a vestibule where they were met by a tall gentleman with graying blond hair and sparkling green eyes.
“Welcome! Welcome to my home.” He first greeted Vibia’s parents, Marcus, and the grandparents.
After greeting the men, he kissed the women.
As he neared the girls, he gave Alethea a wink and kissed her cheek.
“Welcome. I’m Demetrius.”
Her stomach knotted. He’s so old! How could they make her marry someone so old? She thought he was supposed to be young, yet perhaps this was young? He was old enough to be her father, but she had heard from Vibia that some girls married men old enough to be their grandfathers. Well, it didn’t matter anyway because as long as she could help it, she wouldn’t marry him. She remembered a lesson from Decimus that women had a legal right to refuse marriage with a man. This she planned to do, despite the punishment that might await her at the hands of Grandfather.
Since she didn’t have to marry this man now, it gave her time to form a plan of escape. But how much time did she have? When would she be considered a woman? She’d heard from Grandmother that some girls were considered women at twelve. She hoped that such an early demise wouldn’t befall her.
“Please, allow the slaves to escort you into the tablinum. We will begin the ceremony immediately.” Demetrius turned to the other guests. Aunt Fabia put her hand on Vibia’s shoulder and they followed behind the men.
Just then, a tall, beautiful woman came into the hall. She smiled at the guests and nodded elegantly to Grandfather.
“Welcome,” she said.
Grandfather kissed the woman’s cheek. “Thank you for having us in your home.” He smiled.
“It is my pleasure,” she said.
Grandfather turned to follow the slave.
The woman came to stand next to Demetrius and took Grandmother’s hands in her own. “How nice it is that you have come.” The woman glanced around the guests. “Where is Cornelia?”
“Cornelia said she wasn’t feeling well, though I have my doubts, so she stayed home with Paulus and Lucius. Lucius is nothing but a troublemaker, so I thought it best for him to remain at the house.”
“Oh, I do understand. Please give Cornelia our wishes of good health,” the woman said.
“Come, my love.” Demetrius offered his arm to the beautiful woman.
Thanks and praises to the gods, this was not the man Alethea was doomed to marry; it must be her intended’s father. She breathed a sigh of relief.
Moving close to Grandmother, she reminded herself that the man for her was somewhere in the vicinity. Grandmother would serve as a nice, solid wall of protection.
They were escorted to the atrium where Alethea spotted an arched doorway leading to an outer garden. She would hide there when opportunity struck. She had to come up with a plan. She wasn’t going to marry Demetri, and she had to find a way out of this mess.
“Arnos and his family are waiting in the tablinum,” Demetrius said as he walked ahead of the group through the atrium.
“Where is Demetri?” Grandmother touched the arm of the pretty blonde woman.
“He will be joining us soon.”
“He is a fine young man.” Grandmother clasped her hands together.
“He’s looking forward to meeting Alethea.”
“I told Cornelia that Alethea simply needs a goal. I said that if Alethea has a marriage to look forward to, knowing her life is secure, perhaps she will become more committed to her lessons and control her behavior.”
Alethea hid behind her grandmother, fearing the pretty woman would look at her. Why did Grandmother have to reveal all of her shortcomings?
“Mind you, one day she will make a fine wife, so Demetri has nothing to fear.” Grandmother smiled, reassuring the woman, and then widened her eyes pointedly at Alethea.
“She just needs time to grow and learn,” the pretty lady said. “Isn’t it true she lost her father to that new religious sect? Certainly that’s affected her in some way.”
Grandmother nodded.
“It’s growing quite rapidly here in the city.”
“I’m sure it is.” Grandmother cleared her throat.
The slaves pulled back heavy scarlet curtains, revealing the tablinum. A shrine held several figurines of gods reflecting the light from nearby candles. Of course, she would be expected to worship the Roman gods in this family too. Thankfully, she had formed a good habit of this.
She dropped behind Grandmother and the woman as they went into the tablinum. They didn’t seem to notice she was there.
Before the shrine were four small cushions placed on the floor. To the back of the chamber stood the rest of the guests, chatting happily as Grandmother joined them. It was crowded, and Alethea couldn’t see Vibia. She decided it was safer to stay on this end of the chamber, far away from the enemy who could possibly be lurking amongst the guests by now.
While the families continued in conversation, she peeked around the curtain and scanned the atrium. She spotted a few slaves outside, going in and out of a chamber on the far side of the outdoor courtyard. It was still light.
“ ‘But Grandmother,’ she’d said, ‘I’m too young to marry!’ ” Grandmother’s merry voice sounded in Alethea’s ears.
The adults roared with chuckles and snorts.
“I laughed so hard, I cried.” Grandmother joined in the laughter.
Heat crept up from Alethea’s neck to her cheeks as she listened to everyone make light of her situation. It was bad enough being amongst strangers, one of whom she was expected to marry, but now they were laughing at her.
Tears burned her eyes and nose. The high-pitched laughter rang in her ears, making the room suddenly seem too small. She scurried into the atrium, but where could she go? Where would she hide? How could she face all those strangers when they knew of her foolishness? She turned toward the door of the courtyard.
“Going somewhere?”
She skidded in her tracks. A handsome blond man stood at the open door.
She lost all ability to speak.
His tall figure dominated the doorway, and he grinned. Was he laughing at her too? She hastily swiped away her tears.
The young man strode toward her.
“I’m Demetri, son of Maximus Demetrius Arnensis.”
After hearing his name, realization dawned. So this was the one Vibia wanted to marry. This was the one she would marry . . . oh my. At least he was young, and at his age, could be considered a man. He stood over her and made her feel quite small.
He took her hand in his and gently kissed her cheek.
“And who might you be?”
She stepped back, her face tingled from his touch. Strangers had never kissed her cheek before—such an adult thing to do—and now it had been assaulted by two men in one day.
“I’m Alethea,” she whispered.
He straightened and raised a brow, then his lips pulled into a broad grin. “Won’t you stay for the banquet?” He held his arm out to her, his eyes dancing.
She hesitated, then dumbly took it.
Demetri escorted her back to the tab
linum, her plans of escape temporarily postponed.
Grandmother half smiled as they came to the chamber. She must have been about to come after her. Grandmother always seemed to be on her heels. Her eyes lit up when she saw Demetri at Alethea’s side.
Alethea noticed another young man kneeling before the shrine on one of the cushions next to Vibia. He looked younger than Demetri, but definitely older than Vibia. He wasn’t ugly, but compared to Demetri, he wasn’t handsome either.
Grandmother helped Alethea to her knees on another cushion and draped a mantle over her shoulders, while Demetri knelt on the cushion beside her. Because this was a special occasion, they must be expected to pray and give homage to the gods before the banquet was to begin, so she pulled the mantle over her head.
She longed to be playing in the woods at her grandfather’s villa. There she felt wild and free, not stiff, unsure, and foolish, like now. And the thought of marrying the man who knelt right next to her, made her shudder. She didn’t know much about marriage, but one thing was certain, this Demetri would never ride a sow.
A priest appeared in long colorful robes. What god he represented, she could only guess; there were too many to keep track of. This was certainly considered a special occasion if priests were invited. He uttered a prayer before them, hands raised upward, while all heads bowed and eyes closed. She peeked over her shoulder to where the adults stood. They prayed too. She turned toward the front. Demetri prayed next to her as the priest continued his long-winded prose.
She bowed her head as though praying and peered over at Demetri. His arms and body were so much larger than her own. This was definitely not the right man for her to marry. He was too big and old to play in the field with her, and he probably wouldn’t have rescued her doll either. She doubted he’d ever allow her to stand guard and give him the all-clear as he threw a ball through the roof in the atrium. She also doubted Demetri would ever slosh through the mud with her after a long rain; he was too grown up for all of that. Definitely not what she desired in a husband.
She could feel the floor through the cushion, and her knees began to hurt. The priest stopped praying and began quoting more verses. He seemed to enjoy hearing himself talk, dramatizing certain words like “gifts,” “betrothal,” and “pleasing to the gods.”
She focused on his feet. His stubby toes protruded out of his sandals. It made it difficult to take seriously anything the man said.
After a long period of time, she imagined how comfortable it would be to rest her head on the cushion that supported her knees. She noticed the boy next to Vibia nodding off and fought the urge to do the same.
“And now for the rings,” the priest said.
The slight movement and rustle of tunics helped awaken her.
The fathers each handed a ring to Demetri and the other boy. Demetri took her hand in his. It was rough and big around her own.
This was strange, why were they interrupting the prayer with rings? She wanted to pull away, but decided, under Grandmother’s watchful gaze, to not be rude.
He placed a ring on her finger. The ring had looked small in his large hand, but it was far too big for her, and slid right off her finger. He caught it and placed it on her finger again. It was then that she realized the significance of the proceedings that were taking place. This was a betrothal ceremony! She wanted to scream, to run, to hide, but there was no way out. She jerked her hand away, and the ring pitched with a resounding clang onto the floor. She crawled after it and snatched it in her fist. Hurrying back to her spot on the cushion, she hoped he wouldn’t decide to try again.
He smiled down at her, and she quickly looked away.
The priest closed the ceremony by waving incense over the victims’ heads and ended with a prayer. When he was finished, the adults congratulated one another, and Demetrius ordered all the guests into the dining chamber.
It was just the betrothal ceremony, she reassured herself. That still didn’t mean she had to marry him.
Massive curtains to the tablinum opened up to the peristyle where the scent of flowers offered comfort and familiarity during this gruesome occasion. As everyone made their way through the courtyard, she spotted another open door that led to the outer gardens where she had earlier seen the slaves. Maybe David was out there somewhere?
Soon they entered the dining chamber, and in its center were tables laden with a colorful variety of food. It was an interesting set-up since all the tables were pushed together, giving the appearance of one long table, and having the children dine together with the adults was quite an honorable event. The adults and priest reclined on the couches surrounding the lavish tables at the far end of the chamber, while the young people reclined closest to the door.
“Let me help you.” Demetri straightened the cushions on a small couch for her. A slave played the lyre in a distant corner, attempting to create a settling mood for the diners, but it did nothing to soothe her nerves.
She reclined stiffly on the couch, setting her ring on the table, as Demetri reclined opposite her.
The meal began at a slow pace. The appetizers were served and then the main course was set on the tables before them. She plucked the meat from the trencher and choked down the venison spiced with plums, wine, and honey. Under normal circumstances it might have tasted good.
“The indoor plumbing here is simply wonderful.” Demetri’s mother spoke up. “We had to bring water from a well where we lived just outside of Alexandria. Of course the slaves did the work. That’s where we raised our horses you know. This is a thriving city, just as is Alexandria, but I find Rome a bit too crowded.” She dabbed her face with a cloth that a nearby slave provided. “Demetri has suffered some minor ailments since we’ve returned. The doctors can’t seem to say what the problem is.”
“Oh? And what has been ailing you, Demetri?” Grandmother asked.
“I’m just tired a lot, and sometimes my stomach bothers me.”
“Well, perhaps you’re just homesick? You haven’t been in Rome for very long.” Grandmother queried toward his mother. “Just a little more than six months, correct?”
She nodded.
“Give it time. I’m sure it’ll pass.”
“Demetri has become quite a poet.” His mother smiled. “Share one of your poems with us. Share the one about the land; that one is beautiful.”
“Not now mother, please.” An uncomfortable grin squirmed onto his face.
“Well, he is quite talented.”
“Speaking of land,” Grandfather spoke up from the other end of the table. “Tell me, Demetri. About the dowry, what do you have planned for the other side of my Vibian Hill?”
Alethea nearly choked. Of course Demetri would receive her father’s land. When her father was killed, Grandfather automatically gained back the dowry he’d given for her mother. That meant if she married Demetri, she could live in her old house. The idea of living in her home appealed to her. Yet, the circumstances of whom she would marry—
“I plan to raise horses.” Demetri popped a piece of venison into his mouth.
He was handsome indeed, but David held more appeal. After all, this man didn’t have any dimples.
He smiled and winked at her.
Her heart skipped, and she gulped a drink from her goblet. She reached out to take some carrots from the platter, and to her dismay, Demetri’s hand brushed against hers. She quickly withdrew, slipped the carrot into her mouth, and gulped down another drink.
He chuckled, clearly amused.
Her cheeks warmed. This man was welcome to have the land. She would give it to him, as long as he didn’t expect her to go with it. She would tell him tonight that under no circumstances would she be his wife. She was already marrying someone else. Land or not, no matter how much it made her think of Mpampas, it would not be the same living in her old house with some stranger.
“I’m thinking of rebuilding. Maybe tear down the house to build a villa with stables.”
She swallowed hard. He
planned to destroy her home? Rage pulsed its way into her face. How dare he think of destroying what she held so dear. This made it easier to break off their engagement. She had to bite her lip to keep from announcing her decision that very moment. All he cared about was land and horses; she was just part of the deal. She wanted to marry for love, and if she could, she would marry David.
Thoughts of David filled her mind. He would never sit here and arrogantly talk of horses and land and how rich he would become. David was younger than Demetri, but he was far more handsome, even with his slave earring and scar. He treated her with respect, not because he was her slave, but because he really cared. After dinner, she would go into the courtyard and find him.
“I assume last March you celebrated the Liber?” Grandfather asked.
Demetri nodded. “Dedicated my old tunic and other relics to the gods.”
“At seventeen, he is officially a man,” his mother said, smiling.
The conversation turned to which part of the land Paulus would inherit, and Alethea shut everyone out. She longed to be with David.
twelve
Thankfully, Demetri never spoke to Alethea, and when she swallowed the last bite of venison, she snatched up her ring. She meant to return it this very night. She stood as the guests were escorted into the peristyle to enjoy the fine entertainment. Fresh air swept over her now that she didn’t have to be so near her betrothed. Yet, she still had to find a way to break the news to him privately. How would she accomplish that?
Slaves lifted platters laden with fruity desserts and floated around the room to the mingling guests. Alethea refused, feeling like her stomach might burst. They passed out ostrich feathers and motioned the guests to the vomitorium. There they would empty their insides to make room for more food. The thought made Alethea feel like she might lose her meal without the help of an ostrich feather.
She moved close to the door, which led to the outside gardens. Vibia shot her angry looks and didn’t come near. Later, Alethea would settle things with her and make it clear that she was welcome to have this Demetri person.
“I’m simply thrilled with the whole evening.” Her grandmother’s voice rose above the noise of the slaves who moved the couches from the dining chamber into the peristyle and cleared away the plants and statues from the center of the courtyard. “The land promised for Alethea’s betrothal is fine land for raising horses.”