His fellow Romans never partook in the meal because in the moments before the convivium was to start Apicius ordered Sotas to have the guards bar the doors and turn all the guests away. Passia came to the kitchen bearing the news.
“Apicius forbade everyone entry! The guests are pounding on the doors!” She was breathless, having run the length of the house. She had been with the slave girls in the atrium awaiting the guests when Apicius made the announcement.
“I don’t understand. He canceled the party? Without telling me?” I didn’t wait for an answer, storming past her toward the triclinium.
Sotas stood outside the room, his mouth drawn in a somber line. The doors to the triclinium were, uncharacteristically, closed.
“I take it you’ve heard the news.”
“Mercury’s boots! What is going on? I have my slaves lined up with the gustatio, ready to go.”
“Don’t worry. They will still serve the food.”
I noticed Sotas had his sword with him. It lay against the wall, gleaming in the light from the torch in the corridor. I started to ask but Apicius’s voice rang out from behind the doors.
“Is that Thrasius? Send him in!”
I had been looking at the door when the shout came. I turned back to Sotas, hoping for a hint of what to expect. What I saw shocked me.
He looked like he was about to cry.
Thoroughly disconcerted, I pushed open the doors. Apicius reclined on the farthest couch, sipping a glass of honey water. His broad smile confused me even further. What was going on?
“Why did you bar the doors? Your guests are banging to get in!” I walked across the tiles to where he lay.
“Ahh, come, Thrasius! Sit with me for a moment.”
I sat across from him but didn’t recline. I wasn’t sure what to think. He looked happier than he had in years, his round cheeks ruddy and hale, and his eyes glittering. I waited for him to explain.
“Today is the day, I decided. I turned my guests away because they should not have to endure what is to happen.”
My stomach felt like a stone had been dumped into it. “And what is going to happen?” I asked, although I knew what he was going to say.
“I want you to serve the meal just as you would have if all the guests were here. I want to watch the entertainment, to touch the skin of the girls and boys who serve me. I want to feel the smoothness of a grape on my tongue, experience the flavor of the swollen liver from the pig you slaughtered this morning, know the taste of figs as their seeds scrape against my teeth.” He pulled a sheaf of papers from beneath the pillow next to him.
“Take this.” He handed the packet to me. “It’s my will. I give everything to you and Junius. You are to free Sotas and five hundred of my slaves of your choosing. The rest of my slaves and all of my piddling fortune fall to you and your son.”
“I don’t understand, Apicius.” My words caught in my throat. “Why . . . why, why must you do this?”
“Now, do not be upset. I have my dignity to uphold! It’s time to go, before I have nothing left. I want the entire world to know me for the feasts we had—for their magnificence, for the experience you and I have given them that no one else could. That boy Pliny was right. I am running out of money. And it would not do to have that in my history. I want no one to say that old, fat Apicius starved to death!”
I couldn’t believe what I was hearing.
“You are still quite rich, Apicius! There is not an equestrian alive who wouldn’t still be envious of your fortune!”
He laughed, a jolly sound that grated against my ears. How could he laugh?
“Oh, Thrasius. An equestrian! All my life you would have said patrician, but I have sunk and only the world of the plebs lies before me.”
I stood, knocking several silk-covered pillows onto the floor. “This is ludicrous!” I was shouting, but didn’t care. “Patrician, equestrian, it matters not! You need not do this. Your coffers are still fat and we can do things to bring more money in. We can convert one of your farms into a garum factory. You don’t have to give out expensive togas to guests. There is so much we can do!” I knew as the words fell off my tongue that they fell on deaf ears.
“No, no, no. I do not want to worry about such things.” He sat up and waved me over with a chubby hand. “Come here, Thrasius.”
I took the few steps toward him, my body shaking. “I don’t understand.”
He stood and reached up to his neck and lifted off the amulet he wore. My silphium carved amulet. I had forgotten about it, that he had stolen it so many years ago. “I believe this is yours,” he said as he put it over my head.
“No, it’s yours!”
He took my face between his hands. He bent forward and kissed both of my cheeks. Still holding my shoulders, he leaned back to look at me.
“My dear boy, how much you have changed since that day in the market. I remember how much you stank, how much you worried me. And that rotten haruspex . . .” He let me go, a wistful look in his eye.
I had kept the priest’s words in my head for decades, always shoving them to the back of my mind, hating that the man had so much foresight. You will feel the blood of life mingling with the pang of death. Your good fortune will be as a disease throughout your life. The more you work toward success, the more your sky will darken.
“Please, Apicius, do not do this.” I fell to my knees. As though in a dream, I wrapped my arms around his legs as a child might.
He ruffled my hair, making me feel more like a child. “I must, Thrasius. Please do not fret. You have such love in your life. I have so little. Let me leave with dignity.”
I held on to him for a few more moments, barely able to comprehend what was happening. Finally, I let go. I scrambled to my feet, even though my legs threatened to collapse from under me at any given moment.
I wiped away tears, trying to regain my own dignity so I could give him his.
? ? ?
“The first course will be out shortly, Dominus Apicius.” I tried to keep my voice from trembling. “I suspect you will be very pleased.”
He clapped his hands together. “Excellent! Bring out the girls and the boys! Bring out the snails, the apples, the mussels, apricots, and the dormice!”
When I left, Sotas was still beside the door, but he turned away from me as I walked out. He didn’t want me to see him cry.