I snorted. It was more likely the man had robbed the noble and walked off with the herb.
Benjamin stared past us. Apicius had stopped the litter and disembarked to greet this bearer of herbal gold. I wanted to shake my dominus. Apicius had done nothing for the last twenty-four hours but rant and moan about Aelia. But instead of moving forward, he decided to delay the reunion to buy a plant. I resisted saying a prayer to Jupiter to strike the Jew down into the paving stones.
“Do you truly have silphium? Let me see.”
Apicius reached out a trembling hand in expectation.
The man reached into his bag and pulled out a lump of cloth. Carefully he unwrapped it to reveal a thick, reddish-brown root no longer than a finger, twisted and still dirty.
I watched my master scrape the root with his fingernail, then place the bit on his tongue. Apicius closed his eyes to savor what should taste like the bitter pith of a pomegranate with a hint of something spicier.
“Yes, it is silphium! How much do you have? I’ll take all of it.”
The Jew shook his head. “This root is all that I have. I’m sure you know how rare it is.”
“I do know. I’ll pay you seventy-five thousand denarii.”
I tensed when he named the amount. I thought that after Apicius had offered the captain only a bit more to sail to Carthage I would never again be shocked at my master’s extravagant spending. I was wrong. If he was frugal, Benjamin would never have to work another day in his life.
The exchange was made. Benjamin had come prepared with a wax tablet to take down the signed wager and seal mark enabling him to draw the money from the city coffers in Apicius’s name. Apicius retired to the litter and we started off again. Sotas and I lagged behind.
I was angry at my master. “What I don’t understand is why Apicius couldn’t have let me handle that transaction. He would have had his silphium at a fraction of the price and he would already be home to his wife. It’s infuriating.”
Sotas made a sign to warn against the evil eye. “Why do you wonder about his motives anymore? You know things will unfold as they may.”
I understood what Sotas meant. “‘For every success, greater failures will cluster to the sides.’ This is the prophecy coming true before our eyes. He has his silphium but at what cost? To his purse and to the detriment of his wife.”
“And what of Mato and his son?”
I was surprised. Sotas never spoke critically of our master.
We walked the rest of the way in silence.
CHAPTER 11
As we neared the domus, a surge of adrenaline sliced through me. I recognized the bright family colors of the litter leaving Apicius’s villa. It was large and luxurious, with gilded supports and vermilion curtains edged with rich Tyrian purple. A dozen slaves carried the litter, holding on to thick poles wrapped in purple ribbon and capped with golden lions the size of a man’s fist. I prayed to Juno that Apicius wouldn’t notice the approaching envoy, but as the drumbeat of the slaves’ feet came closer, he parted the curtains to peer out. I saw his jaw set hard as he watched the litter pass.
“By Tartarus! What was Sejanus doing in my house?” he cursed when the other litter was out of earshot, bidding his slaves to move even faster toward the villa. Sotas pulled one of the younger slaves aside and told him to run ahead and warn Aelia of their arrival.
Apicius jumped out of the litter before the slaves had the chance to finish setting it on the ground. He waved aside the guards at the front gate to the villa and strode through the courtyard, Sotas and I practically running behind him.
Aelia met us in the atrium. She wore a simple tunica of white and the afternoon breeze played with the edges of her overlying pale yellow stola. She appeared a little haggard, as though she had been crying, and I thought there was a small bruise upon her shoulder. Her hair was pulled back in a hasty bun at the nape of her neck. I wondered if her ornatrix was sick; it was unlike her not to have her hair coiffed. She held a small papyrus scroll in her hand. Apicata stood next to her. She held her doll close, as though she were taking comfort in the embrace. Her seventh birthday was only a few months away and dolls would be a thing of the past soon. I was struck by how much taller she seemed to have grown in the few short weeks since we had last seen her. Helene and Passia stood behind them. I longed to rush across the atrium and caress the cheek of the woman I loved. She looked at me, but her lips held no smile. Instead there was something else in her look—a warning, a plea, that made me desperate to get her alone and see what had happened while we were gone.
“Wife, what was Sejanus doing here?” Apicius stopped a few feet away, not reaching out to embrace her as he usually would after a long visit. “I did not expect you might entertain in my absence.”
Aelia appeared to gather her courage. “I have entertained while you were gone. Sejanus is in between campaigns so he visited a few times. Today he brought a gift for Apicata, and last week, we dined one evening with my father and his father—my uncle, if you recall. But he has not been our only guest. Every day my lady friends have come to weave with me and Apicata.”
A strange look crossed her face and she moved away suddenly, leaning to the side in order to gaze past us. “Where is your haul, by the way?”
Sotas smiled when I nudged him conspiratorially with one elbow. We too lamented the wasted trip that had brought us nothing but a smaller coin purse and an angry domina.
“The prawns were not as I expected.”
“So you just turned back?”
“Yes. And when I returned, I found my wife was no longer there. By Jove, woman! What possessed you to leave without me?”
Aelia looked him square in the eye. “The same thing that possesses you to leave your wife for weeks on end without even bothering to kiss her good-bye.”
“You didn’t even say good-bye to me, Father,” Apicata said. Her voice shook and her eyes welled with tears. I wondered at the display of emotion. Apicata was always a little dramatic but this display seemed more so than usual. “Why were you gone so long?”
Apicius fell to his knees, scooped her up, and buried his head in her shoulder.
“My little one, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to make you cry.”
Aelia watched the scene between her husband and daughter, her eyes neutral but her chin trembling. She crushed the center of the scroll in her hand with the force of her grip. I wondered at its contents.
Finally, Apicius let his daughter go. He gestured for Passia to take Apicata and depart. Then he turned back to Aelia. “Wife, you are never to leave of your own accord again. I have few rules for you in my house but I will not tolerate disrespect.”