Beloved (34 page)

Carissa had slim hands and feet; a reedlike waist; slender hips; and firm, high young breasts. She moved with complete grace, and her manners appeared excellent, for her voice was soft but clear, and she deferred to her uncle and her Aunt Ulpia. She had chosen white and silver as her wedding colors, and they suited her admirably.

Marcus glanced at the girl, his distaste obvious. The augurs were taken, and declared highly favorable. Dagian hid a smile. The soothsayer could have opened a lamb that was filled with writhing snakes and he would have found it favorable to this match. The ceremony was quickly over.

The emperor and the empress were quite jovial at the feast that followed. They and their friends ate and drank liberally. The bride was quite animated, chatting with all the guests. But not once did she speak to her husband, nor he to her.

The rest of the wedding customs were forgotten, and Marcus was glad, for this marriage was a mockery of everything he had ever been taught.
Zenobia!
He almost cried her name aloud in his anguish, and Dagian, seeing the spasm cross her son’s face, reached out and squeezed his hand.

When it was no longer possible to prolong the festivities, the emperor and his wife stood, and both bride and groom escorted
them to the door, bidding them a good night. Ulpia Severina wept matronly tears as she kissed the beautiful girl she had raised. “Be happy, dear child,” she murmured, and with a maidenly sigh Carissa assured her aunt that she would be. The emperor looked directly at Marcus, and said in a very public voice, “I know that you will make my niece happy, Marcus Alexander.”

Marcus smiled broadly. “You may be certain, Caesar, that I shall see that Carissa has everything she deserves,” he replied.

The emperor and the empress departed, and with them all of the other guests. Turning, Marcus looked at the beautiful girl who was now his wife.

“We will sleep in the atrium tonight,” he said. “I see that the wedding couch is already there.”

“Very well,” she replied coldly, and walking over to it kicked off her sandals. “Do you want me naked?”

“I don’t want you at all, Carissa. Surely you know that I was forced into this marriage. That I am betrothed to another woman.”

“Whether you sleep with me or not, I do not care,” was her answer. “The child will come anyway.”

“What?!”
He felt a throbbing begin in his head.

“I am with child,” she said. “It will be born in four months.” A small smile played about the corners of her mouth. “You surely do not think I wished to marry
you?”
She laughed her tinkling, irritating laugh.

“Whose bastard do you carry? Why did you not marry him, or is he perhaps already married?”

“Yes, he is married. Unfortunately he could not divorce his dull wife to marry me, for it is forbidden that an uncle marry his niece. My child should be the next emperor of Rome after Aurelian, his father, but it cannot be. Therefore it was necessary that I have the most patrician of husbands to give my child a name. Aurelian will eventually name our child his heir, for he has promised me that.”

“A worthless promise,” Marcus replied. “Aurelian will be emperor for a few years if we are lucky, but eventually one of our power-mad generals will assassinate him and declare himself Augustus.”

“That is a possibility, of course,” she answered coolly, “and that is why this child will be considered an Alexander. He will be safe if his real father should die before he is old enough to take command of the empire. My child will be safe until his time comes.”

“Since I have just arrived home, Carissa, there is no one who will believe the child mine.”

“It makes no difference. You are my husband now, and therefore my child will be legally yours, heir to this fine, old patrician family! You will never have a child of your own, Marcus Alexander, for I will never couple with you! Never! Nothing shall endanger my child’s place in life!”

It was then he slapped her, his big hand flashing out to make contact with her smug, beautiful face. The red imprint of his long fingers crossed her smooth, white cheek. Carissa screamed with outrage, her high voice pealing throughout the entire house again and again until finally the room was filled with Dagian, Aulus, Lucia, and Eusebia, and numerous wide-eyed slaves.

Carissa, the shoulder of her tunic suddenly shredded, flung herself into Dagian’s startled arms, weeping wildly. “Oh, Mother Dagian, he tried to make me—make m-m-me—it was foul and unnatural! Nothing like what dearest Aunt Ulpia told me was expected of me on my wedding night.” Then she sobbed again, hiccoughing a few times for effect.

“Back to your quarters, all of you!” commanded old Castor, the Alexander major-domo, in an attempt to herd the slaves away from what was obviously a family dispute.

“Oh, no!” Marcus said loudly. “Since my
wife
has started this thing publicly we will finish it publicly. You will all stay.” He turned to his mother. “Don’t bother attempting to comfort her, Mother. She is a consummate liar and a skilled actress as well as an obviously competent whore. My blushing bride has just told me that she is some months pregnant, and was married off to me to supply the child with a good name.”

“Aurelian will kill you for this!” Carissa hissed, suddenly in full control, her beautiful face contorted with fury.

“I would kill
you,”
Marcus replied, “but instead I intend leaving Rome tonight. I will divorce you as soon as I reach Palmyra.”

“You will never divorce me!” she screamed at him. “Aurelian will not let you divorce me!”

Marcus looked to his two sisters. “Take her out of my sight!” he commanded them. “Lock her in some room far away from the rest of the household where she cannot cause any trouble! I cannot bear the sight of the whore!”

Aided by two strong young slaves, Lucia and Eusebia did as their brother bid them, removing Carissa from the atrium as she screamed threats and curses at them in high fury.

“Now,” Marcus said, turning to old Castor, “you may send the slaves to bed.”

“You should have let me tell him,” Aulus said to Dagian.

“Tell me what?” Marcus asked.

“I knew of Carissa’s reputation, for though she and the emperor have been discreet, they have not been that discreet.”

“It would have made no difference,” Marcus replied. “I went to the emperor, and was told if I did not marry her he would destroy our family.”

“I should not have allowed you to sacrifice yourself for us, Marcus. Return to Palmyra this night. We will weather the storm.”

He sat down heavily, and his head wearily dropped into his hands. “You are welcome to come to me, Mother, but I somehow feel that you will want to return to Britain with Aulus. Go with him if that be your desire, or live with Lucia or Eusebia, but leave, I beg you, this sewer that has become Rome. When I ride through its gates I shall never return. I swear it! I shall never return!”

“Oh, Marcus,” Dagian replied brokenly, “I am so sorry. I am so very sorry!”

“Marcus is correct, Mother,” Aulus spoke up. “Rome is no longer a decent place to live. Why do you think I chose to settle in Britain? The immorality and corruption here is worse than ever. Each day the rich become stronger, the powerful more powerful. The simple citizen who would normally be honest and hard-working is being ground into the earth, and the idle are being rewarded for their very laziness. This is not the Roman way, yet mention the old ways of diligence, hard work, honesty, manners, and honoring the gods, and the people mock you. Well, the new ways are not my ways, nor are they better ways, and I will not abide by them.

“Aurelian chose to foist his whore off on Marcus because of the very virtues we believe in, Mother. He knew that Marcus would not, like so many of these
new
Romans, desert his family or his obligations.”

“Mother!”
Lucia hurried into the room. “Mother, it is Father!”

“I will come immediately,” Dagian replied, and she hurried from the room.

“Is he dying?” Marcus questioned his sister.

“I think so,” was the answer.

“Will you and Aulus come now?”

“In a few minutes, Lucia. Where did you put Carissa?”

“In nurse’s old room on the second floor in the far back of the house.”

“Go now, Lucia. We will come presently.”

“What are you going to do, Marcus?” Aulus cocked his head to one side curiously.

“If he is dying then he will want to see us all, and that most certainly includes his new daughter-in-law. I know I can rely on your aid, younger brother.”

“You can, older brother,” was the smiling assent.

As they went Marcus said, “There will be time for us to talk before I return to Palmyra, Aulus. I intend selling the business here in Rome, but it will be to someone who will broker for us the goods you send from Britain and those I send from the East.”

“Agreed, and I think I may know the man we can trust.”

They reached Lucius Alexander’s room, and when they looked inside Dagian left her husband’s side and hurried toward her sons. “It is the end,” she said softly. “He will die before dawn.”

The two brothers disappeared down the corridor of the upper floor and, stopping before a heavy wooden door at the corridor’s end, lifted the heavy bar that lay across it.

“You bastard!” Carissa was across the floor, her nails extended to rake at him.

With a wolfish grimace he caught her wrists and brutally forced her arms down. “Be silent, you bitch, or I swear I will throttle you, emperor’s niece or no!”

She glared at him furiously. “You are hurting me,” she said.

He ignored her complaint, continuing to hold onto her wrists. “My father has chosen this moment to die, Carissa, and he wishes his entire family about him. You are going to come with me now, and you are going to behave like a good Roman wife would behave. Modestly, quietly, and reverently.”

“No I’m not! I shall tell your father that I carry Aurelian’s son, and that my bastard will bear
his
proud patrician name! Let that be his last thought in the mortal world, and let him know he is powerless, even as you are powerless to do anything about it!” Her beauty was suddenly marred by her hatred, which made her look quite common.

Marcus’s voice was low, but Aulus could hear that it held a dangerous note. “No, Carissa. You will behave as I have said. Modestly, quietly, and reverently. If you do not I swear to you that I shall throw you from the roof of this house, and tell the world that you committed suicide when I attempted to claim my
conjugal rights.” He smiled, but his eyes were pitiless. “I almost hope,” he said, “that you give me the chance to kill you.”

Looking into that hard and ruthless face, Carissa knew that Marcus meant exactly what he said, and she shivered, suddenly afraid. She didn’t want to die, nor did she want her unborn child killed. “I will do what you want,” she said.

“And remember,” Aulus said, “that I, too, shall be by your side.”

Carissa brushed her hair into a smooth coil, and affixed it with silver pins. Then she quickly shed her torn tunic and replaced it with a fresh one. They walked down the hallway to Lucius Alexander’s death chamber, where Dagian and her daughters clustered about the old man’s bed. “Here are your sons and Carissa to see you, my dearest,” Dagian said as they reached the bedside.

Lucius Alexander opened his dark eyes, but for a moment he could not focus clearly. Then as the fog cleared from his eyes he struggled to speak. “You have both been sons to be proud of, and I know you will keep the family and its traditions alive in the hearts of your own children. Kneel, my sons,” and both men knelt by Lucius’s bedside. The old man struggled to raise his hand to Aulus’s head. “My blessing, Aulus. May only good fortune smile upon you and your family throughout your lifetime.” Aulus felt the sob rising in his throat, but quickly forced it back. “Marcus, my son, my heir, upon you falls the responsibility for this family. Will you honor this responsibility?”

“Yes, Father, I will.” Marcus felt his father’s bony hand upon his own head.

“I am pleased with you. Pray that tonight you will plant the seed of life within this sweet child’s womb.”

“It will be as the gods will, Father.”

“Carissa, my newest daughter, I know you will be to Marcus as my faithful Dagian has been to me.”

“Yes, Father Lucius,” came the demure reply. “I promise to follow her example.”

“You are a good child,” Lucius whispered. “I was right to pursue this match. Marcus will see I was right.” The dying man fell back upon his pillows, his breathing a harsh rasp. Soon he slid into a half-conscious state. As the minutes turned to an hour, and then two, and three, Lucius Alexander seemed to shrink before their very eyes. Each breath he drew was a tortured struggle, and it seemed as if his chest would split with the effort. In the loneliest part of the night, those hours just before the dawn, Lucius Alexander
opened his eyes a final time, and stared at the woman who sat patiently by his side. “Farewell, my heart,” he said distinctly in the voice of his youth, and then he died.

For Dagian it was as if a spear had pierced her heart. One minute he was there, and then as quickly he was gone. As she sat frozen with shock and grief her eldest son reached over and closed his father’s eyes.
“Conclamatum est,”
he said as he closed them.

“It is over, Mother,” Marcus said quietly, helping her to rise from her place by the bedside. She looked helplessly at him, unable to speak. “Lucia, Eusebia, take our mother to her room to rest, and stay with her. Aulus, return Carissa to her place of confinement.”

“You cannot mean to lock me up again?” Carissa protested.

“Do as you are told else I take a stick to you!” he thundered.

Had Lucius Alexander Britainus died but several days later, his eldest son, Marcus, would have been safely on his way back to Palmyra. As it was, the old man’s death and the settling of his estate took longer than Marcus had anticipated.

Lucius was buried the same day he died. In the confusion the two young slaves appointed to carry the lifeless body of their master to the atrium mistakenly placed him upon the wedding couch that had been set up for Marcus and Carissa. Marcus laughed at the irony of it. “The marriage was dead before it was even celebrated,” he said bitterly.