The Raven and the Rose (9 page)

“What, a slave?”

“A slave.”
 

“You already have hundreds of slaves, Larthia, what do you mean?”

“He’s a Gaul, to be exact, but his assignment is to watch over me when I go out to make sure I don’t come to harm.”

Julia stared at her sister. “Is someone trying to hurt you?” she asked.

“According to grandfather, it’s a possibility.”

“Why?”

“His politics, and I suppose my late husband’s. Caesar’s faction is growing in power every day, soon he will be sole dictator in name as well as practice. Casca thinks that the Caesarion gangs could go after me to get to him. The Senators and the other politicians are too well protected, but a lone woman out shopping with just a set of bearers and an old man like Nestor might be a target.”

“Have things gotten that bad?” Julia murmured.

Larthia shrugged. “Apparently so.”

“Caesar doesn’t seem that ruthless,” Julia said.

“He hasn’t gotten where he is with displays of kindness. He eliminates without a qualm anyone who stands in his way.” Larthia swallowed another sip of her wine appreciatively. “How do you know him?”

“He’s been to the temple a few times to file and amend his will. The last time he came I took the dictation.”

“You took Caesar’s dictation? Aren’t you a little young for that distinction?”

Julia smiled. “Livia Versalia found herself unprepared. Caesar came on short notice and I was the only one available.”

“What is he like in close quarters? I’ve only seen him at banquets when my husband was alive. He just greeted the women and then moved off to talk politics with the men, so it was difficult to judge his personality.”

“I was only with him a short time myself, but it’s clear he’s... powerful. With the Vestals he was very charming and courtly, of course.”

Larthia nodded. “That’s the type you have to watch. Did he come alone?”

Julia rose from the table and turned away, fiddling with a water jug on a stand nearby. “No, he had a centurion of the first cohort with him.”

“The raven?” Larthia said, sitting up alertly. “That Greek sidekick of his? What’s his name? Demeter!”

“Yes,” Julia replied, not meeting her sister’s eyes.

“Isn’t he something? They say there’s hardly a space on his body that isn’t marked from some campaign.” She chuckled. “Quite a few ladies in Rome would like to find out for themselves.”

Julia turned back to the table with the water jug. As she added some liquid to her cup the jug flew out of her hand and splashed to the floor.

Larthia bent immediately to help her, staying her hand as Julia began to pick up the pieces of the shattered terra cotta vessel.

“Don’t bother with that, leave it for the servants. Come back and sit down, you haven’t eaten anything.”

Julia sat again, bringing forward a platter of salted bass, already cut into pieces for finger food. She offered it to Larthia, who took a piece and then watched as Julia sipped from her cup of diluted wine but ate nothing.

“Are you feeling well, Julia?” Larthia asked.

“Why do you ask?”

“You seemed distracted.”

“Do I?”

“Yes, you certainly do. You’re jittery as a street cat, you’re smashing crockery, and you seem to be fasting.”

“I’m just not hungry.”

“But this is delicious, you should try some.”

Julia shook her head.

“All right. It looks as though the timing of my visit was fortuitous. You appear to be bothered by something and there are shadows under your eyes as if you didn’t sleep well last night. What could possibly be haunting you in this glorious haven of peace and tranquility?”
 

Julia looked up at her suddenly and Larthia saw with concern that her sister’s eyes were full of tears.
 

Larthia dropped the piece of fish in her hand and leaned forward across the table. “By all the gods, Julia, what is wrong with you?”

Julia swallowed hard and whispered, “It’s that centurion you mentioned, Caesar’s aide. The one they call the raven.”

Larthia watched her, transfixed. When Julia said nothing further Larthia nodded encouragingly.

“I met him when he came here with Caesar,” Julia went on.

“And then this morning when I sacrificed, he was in the crowd, watching me.”

“Did he speak to you?” Larthia muttered, looking toward the door, which was ajar.

“No, but...”

“But what?”

“The way he looks at me...” Julia closed her eyes and swallowed with difficulty.

Larthia got up and glanced into the hall, then shut the door. She rejoined Julia and said in a low tone, “This is what’s been bothering you? The way he looks at you?”

“Not just that. The way he makes me feel.”

“And how does he make you feel?”

Julia put her hand to her throat. “Since seeing him I can’t eat,” she whispered, “I can’t sleep...”

Larthia examined her sister intently. “Maybe his presence at the sacrifice was an accident.”

Julia shook her head. “He never took his eyes off me. I can feel them still. And now I think the next time I go out to that altar...” she stopped and bent her head.

“Do you want him to be there?” Larthia asked softly, grasping the situation immediately.

Julia bit her lip and shook her head, then she shrugged helplessly.

Larthia reached across the table and took Julia’s hand. “Julia, you know how perilous this is. You can’t encourage a flirtation with this man, I don’t care who he is. Your very life is at stake.”

Julia nodded sadly.

“You must remember how opposed I was to Casca’s choice of this life for you, but you’re committed to it now. If you violate your vows you’ll pay the price.”

Julia wiped her eyes. “Larthia, I haven’t even spoken to him...”she said.

“Something significant has happened, or you wouldn’t be in this state.”

“I just didn’t expect to feel this way. Once I entered the service I accepted that certain aspects of life would not be available to me.”

 
“You entered the service when you were ten years old! I was only fifteen but I did my best to avoid this fate for you; you know how successful I was. But surely you didn’t think that your training or your celibacy would exempt you from feeling desire.”

“Is that what I’m feeling? Desire?”

“Of course. I’ve seen this Demeter, he’s a very attractive man. And he’s also a celebrated war hero. How could you fail to be impressed?”

“It’s more than that. Men have come here before to record wills, it happens almost daily. But once I saw him, I couldn’t take my eyes off him.”

“And it seems he feels the same way about you.”

Julia was silent.

“He must know the penalties for pursuing a Vestal,” Larthia said quietly. “Is he that reckless?”

There was a knock at the door and both sisters jumped involuntarily.

“Come in,” Julia called.

Margo entered, bearing a tray.

“Livia Versalia presents her compliments to the esteemed widow of Consul Sejanus,” Margo announced, placing her burden carefully on the table in front of Larthia. It contained delectable pieces of honey glazed fruit, apples and figs and pears cut into slices and placed ornamentally around a centerpiece of whole oranges from the province of Judea.

“Return my compliments to the Chief Vestal, with my thanks,” Larthia replied.

Margo bowed and retreated, closing the door behind her as she left.

“Do you think she heard anything?” Larthia asked anxiously, looking after the servant.

“Even if she did, Margo wouldn’t say a word to endanger me,” Julia replied.

“Are you sure?”

Julia nodded. “I may not be sophisticated in the ways of the world you inhabit, Larthia, but within the confines of these walls I know which people I can trust.”

Larthia looked at the dessert tray without enthusiasm; she had lost her appetite too.

“What are you going to do about this centurion?” she asked Julia.

Julia closed her eyes. “I may never see him again.”

“But you think you will.”

Julia lifted one delicate shoulder. “I think from his history that he goes after what he wants.”

“What is his history?”

“I don’t know that much, only that he is the son of a freedman farmer from Sardinia.”
 

“But to come from that background and rise as high as he has in the army bespeaks a determination that he will now apply to his pursuit of you, is that it?” Larthia supplied.

Julia met her eyes and then looked away.

“His career must mean a great deal to him. He’s the confidante of Caesar, a line officer of the Imperator’s elite first cohort. Do you imagine that he will throw all that away in order to chase a forbidden woman?”

“I guess it does sound ridiculous, doesn’t it?” Julia replied, sighing.

“A little.”

“I don’t know, Larthia, but seeing him there watching me when I was sacrificing, I was so shocked...” She stopped and smiled gingerly. “I suppose I am making too much of it. Maybe it was a coincidence, or maybe he was just curious and wanted another look at me. That doesn’t mean anything further will come of it.” She laughed a trifle shakily. “I fear I am spending too much time by myself. Brooding allows one to magnify a small incident and turn it into a big problem.”

“I will come and see you more often,” Larthia said, smiling too. “If I request permission of Livia personally I’m sure she will allow it. It’s clear that you need company. I’m not doing anything except planning parties, posing for guild portraits, and fighting with my new bodyguard.”

“You’re fighting with him?” Julia said, grinning, taking pity on this anonymous slave who had the nerve to thwart Larthia’s whim of iron.

“Oh, he’s impossible, but Casca has attached him to me and I seem to be stuck with him.”

“Tell me about him,” Julia said, glad to change the subject, and Larthia complied.

* * *

When Larthia emerged from the Atrium Vestae a short time later, the square outside the temple was deserted except for her bearers and Verrix, who were waiting for her at the bottom of the steps. A few revelers on their way to the Suburra appeared around a corner as she said goodbye to Junia Distania, and Verrix placed his solid body between them and the path to his mistress until they had vanished from sight.

Larthia climbed into her litter without looking at him and then tapped its roof for the bearers to start moving. She sat staring straight ahead, her curtains closed, the increase in the amount of noise surrounding her telling her that they had moved from the quiet temple square into the main thoroughfare. This was jammed with the wagons of tradesmen: fruit sellers and wine merchants and rug vendors who were prevented by law from bringing the carts containing their wares into the city by day. So once darkness fell the streets came alive with the creaking of wheels, the neighing of horses and the cries of the slaves transporting goods for their masters. The occasional private litter mingled with this traffic, the bearers dodging wagon wheels as they crossed intersections to seek out the gravel side paths set aside for pedestrians.

Larthia was thinking about her visit with her sister, wondering where the latter’s fascination with the celebrated centurion might lead, when a crescendo of shouts alerted her to the presence of danger. She looked through the litter’s curtains to see a runaway horse bearing down on her, dragging a wagon piled high with African bananas. The slave driving the cart was trying desperately to rein in the terrified animal. Larthia barely had time to take in this nightmarish scene before Verrix leaned into the litter, seized both of her hands and yanked her bodily out of her seat. She had a sensation of flying through the air before she landed on her dignity on a grassy verge and Verrix landed on top of her.

For several seconds neither moved. Larthia dimly heard a splintering crash and then the horse thundering by her, followed by a confused babble of voices. Then she realized that she was immobilized; Verrix had her pinned to the ground.

It was not an unpleasant sensation. He was big and solid and warm, and she DID feel protected. He smelled strongly of the pine soap Nestor issued to the slaves. Soap was an eastern innovation disdained by the Roman upper classes, who preferred to cleanse the skin with a strigil, but Nestor insisted that soap was necessary to counteract the effects of many hard laboring bodies living together in close quarters. She noticed too that her bodyguard’s hair and tunic smelled fresh, and that the skin at the base of his throat where her face was pressed was as silky as a baby’s.

Then she realized what she was thinking and said in a commanding voice, “Get off me!”

Verrix sat up immediately, surveying her to see that she was in one piece and then looking toward the litter. It was smashed at the side of the street and both bearers were sitting on the ground next to it, looking intact but shaken.

“Are you all right?” he called to them.