The Raven and the Rose (35 page)

Julia reflected with a fitting sense of completion that it was market day.
 

Livia, sitting at her side, was silent.

There was nothing to say.

* * *

Larthia got dressed in the dark, not even bothering to light a candle. She had spent a sleepless night after Verrix was taken, wondering where he was, wondering what her sister was doing with her final hours. She wondered also, briefly, how her own life had come to such a pass, but she didn’t have time to waste lamenting recent events. For Julia she could do nothing except be present as the sentence was carried out, but Verrix needed a lawyer.

Her grandfather’s pal Cicero she considered to be a pompous blowhard, overly fond of his own opinions and the sound of his own voice, but he was widely thought to be the best lawyer practicing in Rome. She considered and discarded most of those she had consulted about Julia’s situation; attorneys specialized and those conversant with religious law were not those who could help Verrix. The regulations concerning slaves were constantly changing, due to the many foreign conquests which supplied the labor force, and she needed someone who had kept up with the latest developments.

Senator Gracchus would probably know.

But first she had to witness Julia’s execution.

She left her room and went into the hall, where Nestor kept torches burning all night long.

The old slave was already up and dressed, waiting for her to emerge.

“Will you have something to eat, mistress?” he asked solicitously.

Larthia shook her head.

“Can I do anything for you before you go?”

“No, thank you, Nestor.” Larthia was about to walk past him and then had a thought.

“Nestor, if anything should happen to me, if I should disappear or meet with an accident, there is a letter for Senator Gracchus in my room on my dressing table, already sealed. Will you take it to him if it becomes necessary?”

“Are you expecting any trouble, mistress?” Nestor asked worriedly.

“I don’t know. I haven’t been the most popular person lately: my grandfather is one of Caesar’s assassins, my sister is a disgraced Vestal about to be executed, and my lover has been arrested. Can you understand how I might be concerned?”

Nestor nodded soberly.

“Will you do that for me, then?”

He nodded again.

“Good. Now I must be off. Look after things here for me and make sure all the servants follow through with their duties.”

Nestor extended his hand and pressed a silver piece into Larthia’s palm.

“A coin for the ferryman, mistress. For Miss Julia. Please give it to her.”
 

Touched, Julia took the coin and then hugged the old man briefly.
 

“That’s very kind of you, Nestor.” She tucked it into her purse and ran down the hall before she could break down and cry.
 

Burying the dead with coins to pay the ferryman who crossed the River Styx to the home of the blessed was an ancient custom. Tradition said that if you did not pay him you were left to wander forever, lost and unfulfilled, in a misty netherworld of troubled souls. It was a fate to be avoided at all costs.

Julia would travel with her fare in hand.

Larthia wiped the back of her arm across her eyes and hurried out the door.

* * *

Marcus and Verrix crouched behind an outcropping of rock and peered around at the empty landscape. The horses, tied to a tree near them, munched on grass contentedly, glad of the rest.

“Are you sure this is the right place?” Verrix whispered, struck by the awful thought that Marcus might be mistaken about the location.

Marcus nodded. “I read the law, this clearing is considered sacred for sacrifices. And look.”

He pointed. Verrix followed the direction of his finger and saw a huge rock rolled back from a hollow freshly dug into the side of a hill.

“Is that the tomb?” he asked.

“Yes.”

“And you call us barbarians,” Verrix observed disgustedly, shaking his head.

“Shh!” Marcus said suddenly, grabbing his arm. “I think I hear something.”

They both listened intently.

“They’re coming,” Verrix murmured.

Muffled footfalls signaled the approach of the little procession. Marcus raised his head and saw Julia, her hands bound with rope, at the head of the column, walking between her two guards. Directly behind her was Livia Versalia, trailed by the rest of the Vestals.

He glanced up at the sky. The first thin threads of light were coming into it; entombment would take place when the sun was first visible over the horizon. As Marcus had already explained to Verrix, Livia would first prostrate herself and pray for the acceptance of the sacrifice. When she was flat on the ground and unable to resist, they would strike, taking out the two guards. He doubted if any of the other Vestals would fight them; it was too easy for those women to put themselves in Julia’s place.

“There’s Larthia,” Verrix muttered, as a figure emerged from the trees, all alone, as Livia had specified.

When Julia saw her sister she bowed her head.

Livia knelt on the grass, then lay forward with her head pressed to the ground, her arms extended.

“Get the horses,” Marcus said to Verrix. “Now.”

Verrix rose and sprinted away, returning a short time later with the two animals in tow. They mounted and led the horses a little closer, until they could hear Livia’s murmuring voice.

“I’ll take the guard on the right,” Marcus said. “Go!”

The men burst from the trees as all the participants in the ceremony looked around, startled. Before the guards could react Verrix had slashed the first one with Septimus’ knife and he went down, clutching his arm.

Julia gasped aloud when she saw Marcus, and Larthia shouted for joy.
 

Marcus attacked the second guard, who offered only token resistance as Marcus dismounted and wrestled him to the ground, holding him there with the point of his sword.

“Cut her loose,” he barked to Verrix, who slashed Julia’s bonds as Larthia ran to help her sister.

“Do something!” Livia screamed to the injured guard. “They’re going to get away!”
 

The first guard struggled to his feet and Verrix whirled instantly, bringing his forearm across the other man’s throat and knocking him down again.

Livia rushed at Verrix, who clipped her on the jaw. She crumpled to the grass.

“Larthia!” he called, and extended his hand. She dashed over to him and took it. He hoisted her into his horse as Marcus said, “Stay down or you die,” to the second guard. He stayed down, and Marcus ran to Julia, who fell into his arms.

“I thought I would never see you again,” she sobbed, clutching him.

He held her briefly, tightly, then said, “Come on, we have to go. I don’t know what Livia has planned, she may have ordered some reinforcements.”

They ran to his horse and he lifted her onto it, then jumped up in front of her himself, as Verrix mounted also. The remaining Vestals watched in awe as the two men kicked their horses and galloped out of the clearing, the women behind them clinging to their waists.

“I can’t believe that just happened,” Junia Distania whispered, still dazzled by the spectacular rescue, as the dust settled behind the departing horses.
 

“Somebody help me,” Livia said hoarsely, dazed and struggling to her feet. Augusta Gellia ran to her side and assisted Livia to stand, offering her arm.
 

Livia looked around alertly. She saw that Julia and Larthia were missing and the two Spanish guards were still prostrate on the ground.

“Go after them!” she shrieked at the guard who was not bleeding. “What are you waiting for?”

“I’ll have to consult Consul Antony for my orders,” he replied in heavily accented Latin. He was a mercenary and didn’t care if Julia lived, died, or moved to Transpadani.

“You mean go back to the curia?” Livia demanded shrilly. “They’ll be in Parthia by then!”

“I have no authorization to pursue them, madam,” he said in protest.
 

“I’m giving you authorization! I order it!”

“I take my orders from the Consul,” the guard replied stubbornly, staring Livia down, as the other guard watched the byplay, silent.

“Oh, you are useless!” Livia shouted, balling her fists. She looked as if she were about to stomp her feet and tear her hair, then suddenly remembered that her women were watching her make a spectacle of herself. She took a deep breath and struggled for calm, forcing herself behave rationally.

“Let us return to the temple,” she said in a level tone. “Pontifex Sura warned me that there might be trouble, but the Consul would not authorize additional men for the burial.” She smiled thinly. “Sometimes the magistrates do not take much notice of our ceremonies, they always protest they have weightier things on their minds.”
 

Once she returned to the city, the Consul would surely hear from her.

* * *

Marcus and Verrix ran their horses flat out until they had left the city and its environs far behind. The sun was high above their heads at mid-morning before Marcus finally gave the signal to stop and rest at a stream, a tributary of the Tiber, which flowed north toward Fidenae. The men dismounted and then lifted Larthia and Julia down to the grass under a stand of trees.

“How are you feeling?” Marcus asked Julia anxiously. She had endured many shocks in recent days, not to mention a wild ride on horseback for the last two hours. It was an ordeal for any woman, much less a pregnant one.

“I feel wonderful,” she replied, touching his face. “I’m alive, I’m free, and I’m with you.”

“All of those things could change if we don’t get out of the country very fast,” Verrix said, dropping full length on the grass. Larthia sat next to him, her hand on his shoulder.

“What do you suggest?” Marcus asked him.

Larthia looked at Julia, who seemed to take this instant camaraderie between the two former enemies for granted. Larthia supposed she should do the same.

Prison, like politics, made strange bedfellows.

“I think we should backtrack to Ostia after darkness falls. From the seaport we can take ship for anywhere in the world,” Verrix said.

“Isn’t that exactly what they’d expect us to do?” Larthia asked. “For Marcus to go back to Corsica, to his family? It’s nearby, and safe.”

“They’d expect me to stay on the continent and return to Gaul,” Verrix replied.

“Who is ‘they’?” Marcus asked. “Antony is not going to send anyone after us.”

“How can you be sure?” Julia asked.

Marcus shrugged. “I know him. He thinks the Vestals are an oddity and the laws concerning them ridiculous. He’s not going to go out of his way to enforce them, especially against me. He has much bigger plans afoot.”

“Livia Versalia has a big mouth,” Larthia said ruefully. “She’ll be shrieking like a harpy about Julia’s escape.”

“Antony can handle her.”

“What about Sura?”

Marcus snorted. “Antony has enough dirt on that old lecher to shut him up for the rest of his life.”

“So you think we can go anywhere we like?” Verrix asked in disbelief.

“As long as the Senators don’t give Antony a hard time about us, and with Caesar dead and the government reorganizing they have enough to do saving their own skins. They won’t have the time or energy to worry about ours.”

“Then we’re free!” Julia said exultantly, still unable to believe it.

“I guess we would be if we had any money,” Verrix said dryly, smiling.

“We have money,” Larthia piped up suddenly.

The other three all looked at her.

“When my grandfather told me to transfer my money to easily transportable items, I followed his advice. There’s a cache of jewelry and gold plate waiting for me at the Sejanus
villa marritima
in Neapolis.”

“You mean you actually did it?” Verrix said to Larthia, his tone amazed.

“Why not? I may not have been fond of my grandfather but he always gave good business advice.”

Verrix burst out laughing.

“All of my war booty and army pay is stashed on the farm I was awarded after Spain,” Marcus said.

“Where is that?” Julia asked.

“Lavicum. I pay a couple to live there as tenants, to maintain it.”

“It looks like there a number of choices,” Larthia said, marveling.

“But first we have to get as far away from the city as possible,” Marcus said, rising. “It would be foolish to stay where any one of us might be recognized.” He offered his hand to Julia. “I think we can make Nomentum by nightfall. There’s an inn there where I’ve stayed before, and in the morning we’ll buy two more horses and make plans.”

Julia rose and he pulled her into his arms. “I’ll take care of you and the little one you’re carrying,” he said fiercely. “You almost gave up your life for me and I’ll spend the rest of mine paying you back.”