Sotas grimaced. “One night not long after, Tiberius—yes, that Tiberius,” he said, noting the question in my eyes. Tiberius was Livia’s son and Caesar’s stepson. “He was visiting Octavius at his villa. He had with him a young man who was said to be one of Tiberius’s oldest and closest friends, a soldier from his military days. During the meal the man complained that his tongue was numb and that he was growing very cold. He was dead within fifteen minutes.”
“It sounds like wolfsbane,” I breathed. I had been taught at an early age how to distinguish the leaves from that of the radish, as they looked very similar. The poison worked fast. Every part of the plant was extremely deadly and the juice of the plant was said to have caused the death of many a senator over the centuries.
“Tiberius flew into a rage and had his men execute Octavius’s cook and the entire kitchen staff.”
“What about Octavius? How was he spared from having to go to trial for attempted murder?”
“I know not. Perhaps he trusted Octavius, or maybe Octavius convinced Tiberius that his kitchen had been infiltrated.”
“By the gods.” The muscles in my neck tightened.
Sotas gazed down the hallway toward the peristylium, his eyes as cold as flint. “It was a year until we saw Sejanus again, in Rome at Aelia’s mother’s funeral. We were listening to the priests give the blessings to guide Amelia Lamia to the Underworld, and Dominus raised his head, looked across the old woman’s body, and saw him. The gods have frozen the moment in my mind. I can smell the cassia and frankincense. I can hear the chants of the priest. I remember the ancestral masks lining the room. Domina was crying. And the boy, whom we knew only as Lucius, was staring at us.
“Lucius walked next to Dominus and Domina during the procession to the cemetery outside the gates of the city. I walked behind everyone so it was easy for me to see he kept eyeing Dominus. Many hours later, after the fire from the pyre had begun to die down and they were starting to collect the ashes for interment, the boy appeared. Neither of us expected him to reach over, put his arm around Aelia, and hug her close. I remember he told Aelia that Ceres would watch over her mother and make sure her journey across the Styx and to Pluto was safe.
“She said thank you, then introduced him to Dominus as her cousin, Lucius Aelius Sejanus, whom she hadn’t seen in years. He leaned in and whispered to Apicius words I still remember to this day. ‘I delivered the poison, but kept the letter and gave the instructions directly. I suggest you treat me well in the years ahead. You never know when I might need a favor.’ Then he returned to his place in the procession to walk with his family. Dominus was horrified.”
As was I. “How could that letter be traced back to him?”
“Dominus used to leave notes with the proprietor of the popina to let Sejanus know when to meet again. Nothing salacious in those letters but they were fastened with his seal. I saw Dominus write the letter of instructions for the assassin. He mentioned Octavius by name.”
I thought about Apicius’s distinctive flair with the stylus. His writing was as rich and dramatic as he was. Anyone who had seen his writing, even once, would instantly recognize it. Even without his seal. “Why wouldn’t he have disguised his handwriting?”
Sotas shrugged. “I think he thought Sejanus was of no consequence. Plus, back then Dominus himself was not in the public eye.”
I shook my head in disbelief. The story seemed nearly too incredible to be true. I tried not to think about what might happen if he was found out. What would happen to me, to all of the slaves, if he were discovered.
I wasn’t sure how to absorb this new information. Lost in thought and not paying attention to where I walked, I managed to bump into a table and knock over a vase full of white roses. Sotas caught me as I lost my footing in the slick water coating the tiles.
“Thanks, Sotas. Hopefully I’ll be the only one you need to catch tonight.”
“I hope so too,” he said grimly.
CHAPTER 9
I was passing through the atrium when Fannia Drusilla arrived. A slave showed her in and a quick glance at the water clock revealed that she was early.
“I cannot tell you how happy I am that you will be by my side tonight.” Apicius clasped his mentor’s hands in his own. “I need your advice and good fortune to guide me this evening.”
Fannia had lost weight and looked ten years younger. “Good fortune indeed! I do bring a bit along with me tonight. Now tell me, did you consult a haruspex?”
“I did. My first sacrifice was unworthy—the liver was full of spots. The next one was fine, but he warned me I should watch for conspiracy. I have been fretting, I must admit.”
“No, do not fret.” She patted his arm. “I consulted with an astrologer before I came. He said nothing untoward would happen this evening, though he did say that something occurring tonight would have far-reaching consequences for the future. Perhaps someone will recommend you to Caesar?”
“We’ll see. What about you, Fannia? It could pertain to you.”
“I had a priest paint an evil eye on my stomach before I came. I don’t want my cousin showing up tonight! But the good news is I think Livia is growing bored with tormenting me. The graffiti has lessened.”
After Octavius and Livia had offered to buy me, Fannia had begun to see graffiti in her neighborhood, graffiti naming her as a woman cursed by Pluto himself. In the last two years, not more than a fortnight went by before new markings appeared. When she saw fresh scrawls, she always sent a slave to scrub them clean, but the emotional damage had been done. Daily, she made a sacrifice to Hera, asking for protection, for both her and Apicius. “You’re in Rome now!” she would say, telling him she made the sacrifice so he wouldn’t be vulnerable to the complex and violent politics of the Forum and the palace. I imagined that it would take more than a painted tattoo and a few sacrifices to protect him.
One of my serving girls arrived with glasses of pomegranate honey water. The girl was blond, and dressed in a long, white, diaphanous slip that hid nothing—even I had to avert my eyes from the dark buttons of her nipples and the soft triangle between her legs. She would cause a stir in such a half state of clothing, which was precisely what Apicius wanted when he’d instructed me to find twelve slaves to be given as gifts to some of the night’s lucky guests. I disliked the duty of finding these women but I took comfort in the fact that I could protect Passia. I therefore suggested they should be exotic because I didn’t want Passia to be considered. While she was striking, Passia was of Greek birth and thus her features were quite familiar. Instead the slaves given as gifts were from the farthest reaches of the Empire, from Germania, Cappadocia, Galicia, Britannia, and other provinces.
“Beautiful girl. I have half a mind to ask you for her hair! I could use another wig.” Fannia took the glass goblet from the slave and nodded at Apicius approvingly. “Now back to my astrologer. His name is Glycon and I think you should take comfort in his words.”
Apicius took Fannia by the arm to escort her to the dining area. I had not yet been dismissed so I fell into step behind Sotas.