Feast of Sorrow: A Novel of Ancient Rome

I sat as Apicius’s shadow that night, at his feet on the end of his couch, a position with which I was content. The group who dined with Apicius was opinionated and I dared not voice my concerns with such members of the elite, whose views were controversial. They were all of a faction that mostly opposed Sejanus, but I thought it wise not to share my hatred of the man in such company. Interestingly enough, Casca’s father, Antius Piso, was in attendance that night. He and Apicius had long since patched up their differences, and seemed to have bonded over their equal dislike for Sejanus.

“I have never been so well fed!” Piso exclaimed as he beckoned to his girl for more fried squid. “You have outdone yourself, Apicius.” He had fallen into deep conversation with Apicius, leaving the other diners to socialize among themselves.

“I should have camped on your couch long before now.”

Apicius gave him an oily smile. “I promise your next visit will be equally memorable.”

A weight descended upon me at those words. I didn’t know how we could keep doing these parties. They left me tired, and despite the blackmail pact we had with Sejanus, they placed us more and more in his sights, sights that had been deadly for many of Rome’s most wealthy. Worst of all, I could see my son’s fortune dwindling. Apicius had spent more in the last two years than he had in the five previous.

“Tiberius should never have let you go as gastronomic adviser,” Piso said.

“He’s a fool.” Venom laced Apicius’s words. “It won’t be long before the mob turns on him, or worse, he ends up like Divine Julius, bloodied on the Senate floor.”

The slave placed another tidbit on Piso’s tongue. He crunched loudly. “That time might come sooner than later, I think. You remember Satrius Secundus?”

“Sejanus’s man? The one who turned in that historian, for treason?” I asked.

Piso nodded and indicated with a finger that he would continue after he finished his mouthful of food.

“That was, what, six years ago?” Apicius squinted, as if trying to remember.

Piso swallowed. “Yes, one of the first Sejanus had executed, I think. At any rate, I have stayed friendly with Secundus over the years, not because I like the fat bastard but because I prefer to keep my enemies close. Yesterday I ran into him at a popina. After a few drinks, he mentioned that he knows how Sejanus is plotting against the emperor.”

Apicius snorted. “Ha! Of course he is. Who doesn’t know that?”

Piso shook his head. “No, I mean, he seemed to have proof. Documents.”

“Do you believe him?” I asked.

“I do. I think he tells true.”

It was as though all the wind had filled my lungs to bursting, my excitement was so great. Proof Sejanus was treasonous?

“Why doesn’t he go to Caesar?” Apicius asked as he dipped a meatball into the sauce on the plate his slave girl held.

Piso chortled, spitting a chunk of food onto his slave’s arm. She grimaced as she wiped it off. “He can’t get an audience with Caesar! Even I couldn’t think of a soul who could help him. I don’t dare implicate myself.”

Apicius shook his head thoughtfully. “It’s impossible to get past the watchful eyes of Sejanus. You can count on one hand the number of people who can get a message past the guards he has posted to watch Caesar on Capri.”

My elation deflated like a sheep’s bladder split open. He was right. Few would be able to penetrate Sejanus’s security and Tiberius seemed to trust him implicitly.

I found I could no longer concentrate on the conversation and excused myself, much to Apicius’s displeasure. I would hear it from him later, but I didn’t care.

? ? ?

My thoughts in turmoil, I decided to take a walk. It had been an unusually warm autumn and I was glad I didn’t need a cloak. I slipped out of the villa and wandered the quiet roads of the Palatine, racking my brains trying to figure out how to get a message to Capri. I knew no one who would betray Sejanus. I hated the feeling that encompassed me—the answer was so close, and yet terribly far away.

I was almost at the villa when someone behind me called my name. A figure emerged out of the darkness. I knew the voice.

“What are you doing wandering around in the night?” Rúan asked as he caught up to me.

“I could ask you the same. Have you come to drink my wine?”

“I work for Caesar. Do you honestly think your plonk can compare?”

I laughed wholeheartedly at this. I knew the quality of our wine exceeded that of Caesar’s but that did not need saying.

A noise on the path alerted us to a tall beast of a man walking toward us from the direction of the villa. I’d recognize that shadow anywhere—Sotas.

“What brings you out here tonight, big boy?” Rúan said, looking up at him as he neared.

Sotas came to a stop before us. I could barely see his face in the dark. “Apicius was feeling generous and gave me the night off. I’m heading to the brothel. Join me? You look like you could use a good poke.”

“Ha! I’m not a body-slave. I don’t have to watch my master screwing. I have my nights to myself and I fancy I see far more action than you can imagine.”

Sotas guffawed, his laugh ringing particularly loud in the night.

“Why are you out here?” I asked Rúan, glad for his company regardless.

“I needed to get out. Your abuse is preferable to that of Sejanus and his guards.”

We laughed, but I was compelled to share my news. I lowered my voice in case there were others unseen in the gardens we passed as I told them of Secundus. “We could be close to ending his power.”

“They read all the mail that goes into Capri,” Sotas said.

“Not all,” Rúan said.

“What do you mean, not all?”

Rúan leaned in and Sotas came a few steps closer. “Antonia. His sister-in-law. Claudius’s mother.”

“And Livilla’s mother! Why on earth do you think Antonia would ever say words against her?”

“You know those women I have bedded?”

“The ones you wished you had bedded, you mean?” Sotas countered with a playful cuff to Rúan’s shoulder.

“Well, one of them is Antonia’s scribe. She writes all of her letters and I can tell you two things. One, because she’s Livilla’s mother, Sejanus trusts Antonia and doesn’t have her letters to Tiberius read. And two, she is not happy with her daughter and the rumors about her ties to Sejanus, and the rumors that Livilla’s sons are not born of Drusus. Apparently they have come to words about it. Antonia once even threatened that if she ever finds out the gossip is true she will expose Livilla to Caesar.”

“Are you certain about this?”

“The lovely lass who shared these secrets was certain.”

“And you trust this girl?” Sotas sounded as skeptical as I felt.

“Aye, I do. She has slept with me nearly every night for the last year.”

I smiled, glad to hear Cupid had once again pierced Rúan’s heart.

“I must get him an audience with Antonia,” I said, already thinking of how I could do so without her rejecting my request.

“Who is this man?” Sotas asked.

“Satrius Secundus.”

Rúan coughed. “Isn’t he Sejanus’s man, loyal to the core?”

Crystal King's books