A Mixture of Madness, Book II of The Bow of Heaven (60 page)

Publius rose to address the crowd, who having received the portion of Roman justice for which they hungered, now found themselves a little queasy at the thought of
having to swallow it. “Below your feet let a sign be posted:  ‘Roman Law Prevails in Antioch.’ Let no man remove the body upon pain of taking its place. All must know that fairness has returned to Syria.”

My legs, having decided they preferred the Great Hall to any place I might now be taken, had ceased to function.
My old arrow wounds chose this time to twinge and trip me up. I was trying to cooperate, trying to be the model condemned prisoner, but Publius’ guards were forced to practically hoist me off the ground with each step. We had therefore traveled only as far as Curio’s place on the bench when he stood up. “Before we conclude these proceedings, may I make a brief statement?” The way Lucius said it, with his upturned chin and pursed lips, he made it sound more like a demand than a request.

Crassus told him to
be brief. “I have noted,” my replacement began in high nasal form, “the reticence of these good officers to find negative intention harbored in the bosom of the accused. I would like to set their minds at ease by submitting a further piece of evidence proving the prisoner’s attempt to subvert my lady Tertulla many months before the general’s arrival in Antioch.”

Publius said incredulously, “How many times
would you like to see the man executed?”

“I act solely to assuage the peace of mind of those who may have any lingering doubts.” Curio handed Publius a piece of parchment,
who in turn handed it to his father.

Crassus held the letter at his side, making no attempt to read
it. “Did you write this letter…curse my memory…Curio!”

“
Yes,
dominus
, Lucius Curio. I am your
atriensis
.” The strength in my legs was returning, and I was becoming vaguely aware of my surroundings, enough so that my bruised face registered a half smile.

“Yes, I know full well
what
you are. Answer me.”

“No, I am not it’s author. It was written by the condemned.”

“And to whom was the letter written?”

“Why, your lady,
general. It makes most foul accusations, it undermines your authority. If you would just read it.”

“I have no intention of reading my wife’s private correspondence. Octavius, return this
property to lady Tertulla.” The legate took it, face down, crossed down the steps and handed it to
domina
who put it quickly out of sight. Had I been more aware of my surroundings, I would have taken note of how unshaken my lady was by the revelation that my letter to her had gone missing. Crassus continued. “How and when did you come by this note?”

Curio said,
“I found it on her reading table approximately two weeks before we departed for Syria.”

“Did you ask your lady’s permission to remove this letter from her things?”
Curio’s brow frumpled, but for once he said nothing. “Then you stole it, is that what you are saying?”

“No! I
…my intent was to reveal this supposed hero of the household for the traitor he is.”

“Did you discuss the matter with lady Tertulla? I cannot hear you. No? Why was that?”

“Well, it was…, I did not want to—”

“Let me help you,” Crassus said. “
Not only are you a thief, you wish to impugn the character of one of Rome’s most respected matrons in a deceitful plot against her
paterfamilias
.”

Long before Crassus finished speaking, Curio had begun to cry. His broad nose leaked, he
sniffled loudly and his, “That was never my intent,” was barely intelligible.

“Did you not think a lady of your mistress’ character would bring the matter to me at the earliest opportunity? You are a thief, sir, and untrustworthy. Normally, I would have you flogged and put you back into service, but frankly, I cannot
endure the sight of you. You will join the man you are so happy to condemn in custody.”

Crassus flicked a finger and nodded at the guards, who
took hold of the former
atriensis
. He was standing within reach of me. There were so many things I could have said to him, but I decided to let
dominus
speak for me. “Lucius Curio, freedman of house Crassus, I find you guilty of manifest theft from a Roman citizen. According to the
Law of the Twelve Tables
, the penalty is scourging and enslavement. I pronounce this sentence upon you.”

“
For pity’s sake!” Curio cried.

“
Tomorrow morning, you shall be taken to the fort courtyard to receive your thirty lashes. Normally, your duty would then be to the house from which you had stolen, but lady Tertulla has told me she cannot abide that habit of yours, the thing you do with your knuckles. There are many fine houses in Antioch; I’m sure several will come to bid on you at the local market, which is where you will be sold at the next auction.”

Till that moment, I had never seen a man faint without some physical provocation. I wondered if it was typical for the eyes to roll up in the head as Curio’s had done just prior to collapsing.

“Octavius,”
dominus
continued, “as to Alexander. I want no nails, no scourging, no bloodletting of any kind. No beatings. He is to be bound with ropes. His legs are not to be broken. And a foot rest is to be provided.”

The legate of Legion I gathered his courage, made more audacious by his youthful appearance and said, “
General, the men are fond of Alexander. These measures you require will prolong his agony. It will take hours, perhaps days for him to die. I cannot deny the severity of his crimes, but ask only that you consider his past service. Let me to help him on his way with a quick thrust of a spear. I know I speak for many when I beg you to show leniency. Allow me to give the man a faster, less painful death.”

“Take my arm,” Crassus replied. They grasped each other’s forearms and shook once. The commander saw the paternal smile on his general’s face and took hope. “Gaius Octavius,” Crassus said, lowering his voice, “do not question my orders in public. I have my reasons. Now do as I have asked.”

The legate bowed his head and said, “Yes, general.”

Down
on the floor of the Great Hall, Lucius Curio had recovered and was now on his knees blubbering up at Publius Crassus. “
Dominus
, I beg of you. I acted for the good of the house. Will you not intercede on my behalf?”

The youngest son of Marcus Crassus
was standing in a shaft of the day’s late golden sunlight. It illuminated his gilt, muscled breastplate and made his arms and face glow with reflected light. The hero of Aquitania looked down at the red-faced, sniffling, puffy-eyed servant and said, “No, Curio, I don’t believe I shall.”

Chapter
XXXVI

54  BCE   -   Fall, Antioch

Year of the consulship of

Lucius Domitius Ahenobarbus and Appius Claudius Pulcher

“That’s it. We’re not waiting any longer,” the
optio
said, the stiff arc of horsehair on his helmet brushing the air as he shook his head. “Bind his hands.”

“Due respect, sir,” Malchus said, “in these foreign parts, how can we be sure
if it’s two hours till sunset? Maybe there’s three left. Who can say?”

“
I can say,” said the
optio
. “And I’m saying it now. Malchus, don’t make this any harder than it already is. Just do your job.”

“Sir.” Malchus left the road and walked back up to
where I lay. He shook his head and bent to his task.

Betto was
already crying. “
Furina’s
feces, Alexander.”

“I’m glad it’s you, Flavius,” I told him.
“I’d rather it be you than a stranger. I am sorry for the distress this is causing you.”

“No. It has to be us. We’ll see you off right.”

“Don’t stretch his arm out too far,” Malchus called from the other side. He smeared his nose across his forearm. “Bind it wide, but not too tight. ”

“Stop telling me how to do this,” Betto yelled across
my prone, almost naked body. “Cerberus’ four balls,” he muttered, “you’d think I’d never done this before.”

“Cerberus
only has two balls,” Malchus said.

“So you keep telling
me.” Betto paused to wipe his eyes with the back of his hand. “Why don’t you go down there, bring ‘em back and prove it to me?”

“Because,” I interrupted, “
even if Malchus could somehow demonstrate that the testicles were taken from the beast, it would still only prove the dog has two.”

“Oh,” Betto sniffed, “we’ve done this one before, have we?”

“Once or twice,” I said. “You’d accuse him of deliberately leaving the other two behind.”

I was on the cross, on the ground, my head aligned up the gentle slope of the hill, my feet pointing down toward the base of the fifteen-foot post that rested at the edge of the road into Antioch. Betto was tying my right wrist to the beam already notched and tied to the vertical post. If I let my bare legs fall on either side of the rough-hewn wood, I could feel grass and earth on my calves and the heels of my feet. Above me, the arbutus swayed, a shifting canopy of shade. The trees’ smooth orange bark was peeling back like parchment, exposing next year’s pale green arms. Behind my head, further up the hill, the Etruscan from my friends’
contubernium
was digging the four-foot hole for the post. Their remaining tent-mates were on the road, joined by another dozen soldiers holding back the crowd. Cavalrymen were stationed at either end to make sure no one flanked the human barrier.

“Can you push off from the foot rest easy enough?” Malchus asked.
“On your toes, your legs should be able to take most of the weight off your arms.”

“That arrow wound in his right thigh’s
going to make itself known.”

“Shut up, Flavius,” Malchus said.

“It hardly ever gives me any trouble,” I said helpfully.

“It will, lad.
Sooner or later.”

Malchus
glared at his friend, an exchange I had looked upon with fondness countless times over the course of our friendship.

“Oh. Sorry,” Betto said.
“Let’s not tie his legs; he’ll just get rope burn when he pushes himself up to get a breath.”

“Must you, Flavius? I am
barely managing my terror as it is.”

“
Merda
!
Curse me for an ignorant ass!”

“Done,” I said, trying and failing to make him
smile.

Malchus said, “No curse required.”

“Where is Livia?” I asked. “She is coming, isn’t she?”

“She’ll
be here,” Malchus said, casting a worried look at Betto. “Don’t worry. We won’t hoist you up till she has a chance to, you know, say goodbye.” He glanced behind him down the hill. I craned my neck and saw the officer pacing on the empty road between his men and the Antiochenes who had gathered to witness the execution.

“Could I have some water
, please?”

Betto tilted my head up and put his flask to my lips.
When he did, I could see the city, a bit of the river, even the Regia. I wondered what Crassus was doing at this moment. Was he standing on a balcony, looking this way? Or now that I was free of him, had he already put me out of his mind? As Betto was about to let my head back down, I saw a flash of red hair in the crowd. “Wait! I think I see her!”

“
Sir!” Malchus shouted to the
optio
. “There she is! The
medicus
.”

The officer walked briskly up to his men. “Make a path for that woman!
Let her through!”

Betto found a large, smooth stone and placed it gently under my head. Then he and the rest of the legionaries moved off down the hill.
Betto and Malchus touched Livia’s shoulders lightly as they passed. She was wearing her belted healer’s tunic, stained from work. I wondered if she had been the one to treat Curio’s wounds. Cradled in her arms was a small child. In two days, Felix would be a year old.

She
knelt in the space made where the two pieces of wood were joined. “Here is your son,” she said. She put Felix down in the tight triangle of ground between us. He giggled and picked at the bark on the unplaned side of the beam. I spoke to him softly and finally got his attention. He put both hands on my face, squeezed my cheeks and laughed. I smiled, my mouth and chest tight. Something I would not be able to control began to well up inside me. Thankfully, at that moment he turned, held his arms in the air and Livia picked him up.

“
He has your looks,” I said.

“He’ll most likely have my temper as well.”