Feast of Sorrow: A Novel of Ancient Rome

“Tell me about Aelia. Is she well?”


“She is. She’s most excited about me bringing new furniture home. The list she has for me is leagues long. Couches, tables, and rugs! You must come to visit soon. I know she will be delighted to show off all the new finds I’m going to bring back for the domus.”

I forced myself to keep my expression neutral. It wasn’t the first time my dominus had lied and I was sure it wouldn’t be the last. I closed my eyes and prayed to the gods to get me through this trip and back to Baiae. I longed to see Passia. She had just begun to talk to me a little more each day and I savored every moment. Each day since I had left felt too long.

When I opened my eyes, the Nubian woman was standing in front of me, holding a tray full of glasses of honey water. I was shocked. Slaves were often overlooked and I had expected to remain thirsty until we were dismissed later that day. I took the glass, a tall, pale blue shaft painted with the face and name of Cosmus, a gladiator who was well ranked and beloved by the people. The honey water was sweet and cold. The slave could see the weariness on my face. She set the tray down on a nearby table and went to fetch me and Sotas stools. Fannia’s kindness toward her slaves was well known but I had not believed it to be quite so true.

“While I’m in Rome, Fannia, I’m also hoping you can recommend me to a few good toga makers. I’m considering buying several for gifts for my Saturnalia cenae this year. What do you think?” asked Apicius.

“Certainly! Everyone would talk about your generosity!”

Generosity was an understatement. Togas were expensive. Giving them as gifts would further indebt Apicius’s key clients.

Apicius leaned back on the couch and sipped his honey water. “Also, do you have a source for Cyrenian silphium? Thrasius has some new sauces that suffer when he uses that wretched asafetida. The taste is not the same.” He glanced over at me.

“They are starting to restrict sales. My supplier just came back from Cyrenaica. He told me about another experiment to farm it, but of course it didn’t work. Our goddess Ceres is determined not to let anyone but her cultivate it. I strongly suggest you buy as much as you can now. Oh, how I wish it were possible to make a little go far.”

Apicius chuckled. “My dear Fannia, let me tell you one of Thrasius’s secrets. Take twenty or so pine nuts. Place them in a clay jar with a sprig of silphium, stopper it up, and leave it for at least a week. When you need a taste of silphium, crush up the pine nuts and add it to your dish! It will last for as many weeks as you can keep the nuts fresh—much longer than the herb would itself.”

“Brilliant!” she exclaimed. “Oh, the gods were looking down on you the day you found your cook. Is he taking good care of you, Thrasius?”

I nodded my assent and raised my glass in toast.

“I make sure he has all the latest tools for the kitchen and have given him the use of a slave who has caught his fancy.” Apicius twirled one of the couch’s pillow tassels as he talked, a nervous habit I had learned to identify. “I’ve even asked him to take over as my aide during the salutatio. I know it is unusual, but I want him to become familiar with my clients—my parties will be all the better when we cater to specific guests.”

Fannia patted Apicius on the arm. “Once again, my little caretaker, you have made me proud. Such cleverness!”

She smiled at me and I forced myself to smile back. I was still bristling at Apicius’s offhanded mention of giving Passia to me. I so desperately wanted to protect her. I could only hope that Apicius would not consider “giving” her to another.

One of the door slaves entered the atrium and handed Fannia a parcel. The slave withdrew and she opened it, removing a card with flowery script.

“Bastard,” she said, scowling.

“Is everything all right?” Apicius sat up in alarm.

“It’s from Messalla Corvinus. He is bringing Livia and Publius Octavius with him tonight. He knows you are dining with us but begs I do not invite any others. How presumptuous! Now I have to disinvite people.”

My stomach lurched at the sound of those names. I was not anxious to see Octavius again, but it was Livia who gave me pause. I had never met Caesar’s wife. Many thought of her as the model Roman matron, and women across the Empire tried to emulate her. The thought of being in a room with someone so renowned filled me with both curiosity and fear.

Apicius also paled. “I wonder how they found out about the cena.”

“No doubt someone asked Corvinus where he would be tonight. He can’t easily lie to Livia. I’m sure she’s coming because of Octavius. He seems to have curried her favor. I heard in the baths today that Octavius is rumored to be on Caesar’s short list for gastronomic adviser now that they finally—eight years later—have decided to replace Maecenas. Livia is forever trying to antagonize me. She will do anything to remind me that she will never forgive me for sleeping with her ex-husband. But why would Octavius come here? To show you up?”

“Maybe.”

Fannia stood up and shouted for her slaves. “I’m sorry, my dear friend, but I should attend to these changes, starting with notes to the other guests. Please, feel free to use my baths, or, if you like, go visit the public baths or the market. I can have one of my servants guide you through town. Nasia will compile a list of my most trusted vendors for you.” She waved a hand at the Nubian woman.

“Thank you, Fannia. I’ll be fine. Are you sure you don’t want my help? Or Thrasius’s?”

She shooed him off. “No, no, no. My cook is already cooking from the recipes Thrasius gave me when I last visited. Go enjoy yourself and rest up.”

Apicius rose from the couch. I was hoping he would give us the afternoon to ourselves but I knew he would want to keep me close to discuss the situation. I had heard of the rivalry between Livia and Fannia but had never been unfortunate enough to witness a direct exchange. And Octavius—what were his motives? He was a man who did nothing without cause and often that cause was in direct opposition to my master.

“Sotas and Thrasius, let us go.”

? ? ?

We took one of Fannia’s litters, as oxen, mules, and horses were not allowed on the city streets. “What will I do?” Apicius asked the second we were ensconced inside. “I have always hoped to avoid Livia until it was advantageous to me. This could be dreadful! I will never have a chance at becoming gastronomic adviser if she knows how close I am to Fannia.” He twisted his toga in his hands as he ranted. What if he fell ill? What if he paid men to kidnap Livia? No, those wouldn’t do. He must have angered one of the gods, but which one? I had no answers for him.

“This is a disaster! I should have stayed home with Aelia.”

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