Feast of Sorrow: A Novel of Ancient Rome

“No, I do not. At any rate, you know many of the people who will be here tonight. Fannia will help you navigate through all the family names. You know Trio, Celera, and Publius Octavius, and Gaia too.”


Aelia’s voice turned sour. “I don’t know why you invited Octavius. It’s always such a competition between the two of you. Don’t you get tired of showing each other up?”

Apicius was silent. More clink of pots.

“I talked to Apicata about Numerius Cornelius Sulla,” Aelia said, changing the subject.

“Did she understand?” His words were full of concern.

“I think so. She liked the idea of wearing the flame veil and the ‘pretty’ belt, as she described it.”

I eyed Sotas, who nodded his head. A flame veil referred to the traditional Roman wedding veil the color of saffron, and the “pretty” belt was a knotted belt to be untied by the husband on the wedding night. It seemed that Apicius had betrothed his daughter. In truth, I was somewhat surprised he had not done so earlier. Many children of Roman patricians were betrothed at very young ages, to seal family commitment and build relationships.

Apicius chuckled at his daughter’s reaction. “It is a shame that he could not be here to help us celebrate.”

“It’s just as well,” Aelia said. “Sulla is so much older than you are. It might have confused Apicata to see him.”

There was a long silence, then Aelia spoke up.

“Did you deliver an invite to Sejanus?”

“Yes, I did.” I heard Apicius moving toward the door. I stood and backed away.

“It will be good to see him again.” Her voice sounded far away.

“It has been a while,” he said, emerging from the room into the hall where we waited.

He saw me and scowled. “What do you want? Shouldn’t you be in the kitchen?”

“Yes, Dominus, but I wondered . . .”

“Wonder it later. I have too much to do to worry about whatever it is you want. I don’t need to hold your hand. Just take care of things!”

I sucked in a breath, shocked to hear such venom after he had spoken so tenderly to Aelia.

“What was that about?” I asked Sotas after Apicius dismissed us. “He was fine earlier.”

“Did you notice when his mood changed? During his conversation with Aelia?”

I picked up the pace to keep up with the big man. I thought back to the conversation. “When Aelia mentioned Octavius and Sejanus.”

Sotas slowed and glanced around.

“What I tell you must not become gossip in the house. You must be silent. If you are not, I fear for how Fides will punish me for misplacing my trust and betraying the secrets of my dominus.”

I knew he feared the wrath of his goddess more than he feared losing his life. I clapped a hand on his arm—his shoulder was a bit high for me to reach. “Fear not, Sotas. I won’t let you down.”

“Dominus wants to avoid Sejanus,” he said, his voice low.

“But why?”

“Hard to look in the eye a man you’ve bedded when you discover he isn’t the whore you thought he was.”

I caught myself before I exclaimed aloud. I don’t know what I thought Sotas was going to tell me but I certainly didn’t expect that.

“He slept with Sejanus?”

Sotas grunted. “It was nine years ago and we were summering in Pompeii. Dominus met Sejanus at the baths. Sejanus was maybe fourteen, so Dominus would have been about twenty-three.”

Sejanus was a year older than me. I had been living in Pompeii then and we could easily have been at the baths at the same time.

“You’ve been to the baths there, right?”

“I have.” The baths were small and always packed tight like anchovies in oil.

“Right, everyone sits so close together. I noticed Dominus staring at one of the boys. He was what some might call handsome, I suppose. He was fit, with muscles that looked like they could have been sculpted by that famous sculptor, what was his name?”

“Pheidias,” I supplied, looking around to make sure we weren’t overheard.

“Yes, him. Anyway, the boy came and sat next to Dominus. He didn’t say much but he listened to all of our dominus’s stories. He didn’t have a body-slave with him and he was by himself, so we assumed he was a pleb.

“The boy followed him through the frigidarium. They dressed together, still talking. When we left the bath, Dominus propositioned him. I remember gasping aloud. Dominus elbowed me so hard I had a bruise for days after.”

I couldn’t believe what I was hearing. Apicius spoke disparagingly of his friends who had a penchant for young boys. He thought Greek love was vulgar!

“Anyway,” Sotas went on, “within an hour the two were holed up in an inn above a loud popina. You know how much he hates taverns.”

“A popina? I can’t even picture it.” I was amazed at the story. It was out of character for our dominus.

“I ran ahead and secured the room. Thrasius, the amount of money he gave Sejanus for just an hour! Dominus paid him as much as he would have for a new slave. I had to stand outside the room and guard the door, hearing every grunt and groan. I was glad when we left. But then the next day we met him there again.”

“Again?”

“Yes. We met him several times over the course of that summer. Always at that popina and always for an exorbitant amount of money.”

“He didn’t know Sejanus was Aelia’s cousin? And an equestrian?” No wonder Apicius was embarrassed. If other nobles discovered the tryst, it would be shameful indeed. Having sex with slaves and plebs was one thing, but with a patrician—that was a line that was not to be crossed.

Sotas shook his head. “No, he didn’t. He truly thought him a pleb. He identified himself as Lucius and didn’t give his full name. At the end of the summer, Dominus asked him if he could deliver a package for him. The boy agreed. We returned the next day with a parcel. He took it and that was the last we saw of him that summer.”

“But you saw him again at some point?”

“Yes, but that’s not the worst of it.”

We paused until a trio of laundry slaves had passed. When they were out of earshot, he continued. “The parcel was damning.”

“What was in the parcel?”

“A vial of poison, a letter with instructions, and money. A great deal of it, meant for an assassin.”

I covered my mouth for fear I would exclaim aloud. “Whom did Apicius intend to have killed?”

“Publius Octavius.”

I couldn’t believe my ears. “Octavius? Are you serious?”

“I told you that Dominus has hated him for years. Dominus told him once that he wanted to become the gastronomic adviser to Caesar. Not three weeks later Octavius announced his own intent to find favor with Caesar. That angered Dominus to no end.”

“What happened?”

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