Aelia lowered her eyes. “Yes, husband.”
“You will not teach Apicata insolence. It is my expectation that as matron of this house you will provide her with a role model befitting our station. You will explain to her how your actions were not appropriate. You will also offer an extra sacrifice to the Penates this evening. You have shamed us and the household gods demand retribution.”
“Will that be all, husband?” She sounded more defeated than petulant—we had all seen Apicius in his moods and to provoke him was never wise. A blanket of sadness encompassed her. She refused to look up at Apicius.
“Yes, that will be all.”
She left the atrium, a cheerless cloud trailing in her wake. I suspected that by leaving she had hoped Apicius would see how she had been wounded. Instead he meted out punishment. I wished I could run after her and give comfort.
“Come, Sotas, we have much to unpack,” said Apicius.
The “we” was not as inclusive as it sounded. Sotas would end up unpacking while his master went to the baths to enjoy a massage and a glass of Falernian wine.
“Dominus?” I raised my voice in question, not daring to assume I too was dismissed.
“Go, get out of my sight.”
As I crossed the atrium, I noticed Aelia had crumpled and tossed the scroll she had held. I picked it up from the line of plants where it rested and pocketed it, intending to return it to her when I saw her next. But a short while later, my curiosity won out and I pulled out the scroll.
It was a love poem she had written for Apicius, lamenting the distance between them. It left my heart hurting for my domina.
? ? ?
It was several hours before I could be alone with Passia. I longed to wrap my arms around her, to run my fingers along her skin. I had been dreaming of her for weeks and I wasn’t sure how much longer I could contain this hunger. And yet there was a seed of worry—what had that look she gave me meant?
When Apicata was taking her nap, Passia slipped away and we sought the privacy of my cubiculum.
“Sejanus is a monster,” she began as soon as the door was shut. Anger played with her features, wrinkling her brow. My desire dissipated, turning into deep concern.
“Tell me what happened.”
“I don’t know where to start.” Tears filled her eyes and I enveloped her in my arms. She wept into my shoulder.
“Did he touch you?” I could barely ask the question.
“Not me.” She choked and fresh tears began anew.
Horror rose in my chest. “Apicata?”
“No, but, but . . .” Again, her tears consumed her.
I led her to the bed and sat with her, comforting her, letting her cry. After a time, she quieted.
“I’m so glad you are home.” She wiped her face with the back of her hand.
I smoothed the hair back from her face. “Tell me what happened, my sweet love. Take your time.”
“Domina Aelia told true earlier, but she did not tell it all. Last week Aelia’s father, Sejanus, and Sejanus’s father came to dine with us. They arrived in the late afternoon and the dinner was very enjoyable. You know how I’ve always liked her father.”
I did. Lucius Aelius Lamia had advanced to be governor of Germania and we did not see him often. He was a kind man who doted on Aelia and often sent her gifts from his travels across the Empire.
“They were here for many hours and there was a lot of wine that flowed. In fact, too much wine. Eventually Lamia left for home. He had some things he wanted to finish up before he left Rome to return to Germania the next day. When he was gone, we retired to Aelia’s library because Apicata wanted to have Sejanus play backgammon with her.
“Helene and I sat on the slave stools near the door, along with four of Sejanus’s guards. Aelia read from Virgil while Sejanus played the game with Apicata. Everything was fine for a little while. Sejanus kept waving to have his wine refilled, which I think I must have done three or four times.”
“Let me guess, he didn’t want it to be cut with water.”
She shook her head and tears rose in her eyes once again.
“At some point, he had Apicata sit on his lap while he showed her how to make more strategic moves on the board. Oh, Thrasius, that’s when everything started to go wrong!”
Heat prickled the back of my neck. “Tell me, Passia. What happened? What did he do to Apicata?”
“He, he . . .” She swallowed and choked back her sobs. “He started to rub his hands up her legs and under her tunica, upward. But Aelia saw, and she threw her scroll aside and yanked Apicata away.
“He told her that he was having a little fun, that there were other types of games he could teach her. He grabbed Aelia with his free hand and Apicata slipped away, running to me. I tried to take her out of the room but one of his guards grabbed me and held me back. He held me, with my hand over my mouth so I could not scream. One guard took hold of Helene and another guard grabbed Apicata and did the same. She was hysterical and finally the guard told her that if she didn’t stop screaming they were going to hurt her mother. That stopped her, but she was terrified.”
“Where were the house guards?” I asked. Besides the regular door guards, there were guards present when visitors came to the house. Apicius had always been somewhat paranoid and demanded it.
“Aelia had dismissed them to guard the outside of the house like they would if we did not have visitors. We all felt safe. Sejanus had his men with him. He is her cousin—she did not think that anything would happen!”
Much as I didn’t want to hear what was to transpire, I bade Passia to continue. I held her and stroked her shoulder and her face while she spoke.
“Aelia struggled in Sejanus’s arms. He kept trying to kiss her. He ripped her stola to get at her breasts. When she tried to scream, he slapped her.”
I swore. Never in my life, even when I had been abused as a slave in times past, or even when Vatia had died by Popilla’s mechanisms, had I ever wanted anyone dead so much as I did Sejanus in that moment.
“He was so drunk. I think that was the only thing that saved Aelia. He could barely stand up. After he slapped her, he told her that he had evidence of something very terrible that Apicius had done, that he had tried to murder someone close to Caesar. And that it would destroy Apicius and his entire family if Sejanus shared the evidence.”
Her eyes pleaded with me. “Oh, Thrasius, do you think it is true?”
Reluctantly, I nodded. “Yes. It is. It is better that you do not know.”
She paled.
“Did Apicata hear about the murder?”