“What else has he predicted true for you?” There was hunger in Apicius’s voice.
“He told me my damned husband would return early from Alexandria last month. I took heed and went to Herculaneum to visit my sister. Sure enough, he did and I was able to avoid him.”
They reached the peristylium and lay down on the sumptuous pillows on the couches. I knew there were numerous duties awaiting my attention, but I hesitated in the shadows beyond, wanting to hear the rest of the conversation. I could see my master and his friend through a slit in the curtain that covered the door. Sotas sent the rest of the slaves away, but when he saw me lingering in the shadows, he smirked.
The peristylium was lit with lamps hanging from poles along the wall, with more small lamps placed on a high, water-free platform in the upper part of the center fountain. Apicius had spared no expense. The couches were covered in cloth dyed the most expensive Tyrian purple and studded on the edges with hundreds of tiny rubies—many of which I expected would be pocketed before the night ended. Dancers dressed like nymphs waited in the next room, ready to float through the crowd, twirling and bending and twisting to the flutists.
“He also told me I would take a lover.” Fannia winked at Apicius. Her face had a girlish glow.
“He did? Have you?”
“I have! It’s positively scandalous, of course, so you must be discreet. He’s strong and dark with a body that . . . mmm.” She paused and licked her lips. “Glycon also told me the very day I would meet my new lover and, sure enough, on that day I met Florus at a beach party in Cumae. I am serious. You should consider hiring Glycon.”
Apicius set his empty glass on the small tripod table next to his couch. “I’ll think about it. Having extra guidance would be good.”
Her face darkened. “You mean now that you are here in Rome with enemies.”
“Yes, that’s part of my concern. And I worry about Popilla,” he admitted.
“She can’t touch you here. Even if she were a ghost who wanted to haunt you, you are a hundred and fifty miles from where her shade might be. Rest easy.”
Apicius gazed down at the tiles. “I suppose. But there are other reasons too.”
“Sejanus will be here tonight, won’t he?” Fannia said.
Apicius curled his lip into a distasteful snarl. I was surprised that Apicius had told Fannia about the relationship with Sejanus, but, then again, she had always been his closest confidante. I wondered if she knew about the accident that killed Tiberius’s friend.
“Yes, damn him to Tartarus. And Octavius too. Why I was ever moved to invite him, I don’t know.” From the folds of his toga, Apicius pulled out the amulet he’d had blessed at Jupiter’s temple. He held it to the sky. “May Jupiter and Vesta protect me this night in my own house!”
Fannia raised her glass in solidarity. “Sejanus won’t do a thing,” she reassured Apicius. “He doesn’t want anyone to know he was sleeping with you. Worry not—he can only delight in making you uncomfortable. Don’t give him the satisfaction.”
“I have much more to lose than he. Not only did I sleep with my wife’s cousin, a damned equestrian, but I also committed adultery, which is punishable enough on its own if the emperor decided to enforce the law—”
“Unlikely,” Fannia interrupted.
“But those letters . . .” he continued, his voice dropping. “I was so stupid to include my seal on the notes to him. He could decide to give them to Octavius at any time! Worse, he could do it in front of me! Or worse, he could show Tiberius and my life would be over without a trial—he could have Caesar order my death.” His voice lowered into a barely audible hiss. “I killed his best friend!”
Fannia patted Apicius’s hand. “It might not go as bad as that.”
“Are you mad? Tiberius would not spare me. Oh, gods, I wish I knew what Sejanus wanted. He’s clearly biding his time, but for what? Pluto, I beseech you, take him now!” He punched the back of the couch with his hand and several rubies fell into the cracks. When Apicius pulled his hand back, there was blood. I passed a cloth I kept on my belt to Sotas and he rushed forward to help stanch the blood. Apicius took the cloth and waved Sotas off.
Fannia was unperturbed by his display of anger. “Oh, I’ve no doubt that he’ll attempt to blackmail you at some point. I’m sure you are right. He’s waiting until he knows exactly what he wants in return.”
“I wish I could get those blasted letters back.” He pressed the cloth to his hand. His face was twisted into a scowl.
“Have you had any run-ins with Livia?” Fannia asked, changing the subject.
“No, not at all. But I dined with Caesar’s gastronomic adviser last week and he told me she’s been traveling with Caesar Augustus. It was the first time I had seen him since the night at your house.”
“Ahh, Corvinus.” Fannia tapped the edge of her glass with her finger. “What else did he say?”
“I asked if Livia bore me ill will for refusing to sell Thrasius to Octavius. He didn’t think so. He thinks she’s forgotten all about it.”
“Don’t trust her. She harbors grudges for years, then strikes like a cobra. Always be wary. But Octavius . . . he is ever more dangerous. Unlike Livia, he is more desperate. Why did you invite him?”
“I want to know what he is up to. Besides, I have Sotas to protect me.” Apicius turned in our direction and I pulled my head away from the curtain, hoping he didn’t see me.
“True. You would not want to meet Sotas in a dark alley. Your father did well when he bought him.”
I looked at Sotas, agreeing with Fannia. He was large enough to pick me up and hurl me across the room with ease.
Apicius grew quiet, returning to the subject of his mother once again. “Do you really think that Popilla is not able to follow me here?” It was one of the few times when I heard true fear in the voice of my master.
“Absolutely not. Besides, you performed the rites at Lemuria this year, didn’t you?”