Feast of Sorrow: A Novel of Ancient Rome

“Apples, pepper, and cloves.” He sipped. “This would have gone well with the pork minutal Thrasius prepared last night.” He didn’t look at me. It made me wonder all the more why he brought me because he acted as though I were not there. With slaves that was standard, but his insistence on my attendance made it seem strange to me.

Apicius was tipping his glass up for another sip when something slid down the folds of his toga and hit his toes before bouncing off into the grass. I saw it was my silphium carved amulet—the one he had given me the day Octavius first tried to purchase me. I instinctively reached up to the spot where the amulet normally rested against my breast. It had gone missing a few days before. I’d assumed it lost, not taken. He must have had someone remove it from the table near my bed when I slept.

Sotas stepped forward and retrieved it for him. I stood in shock, trying to process how I felt at him taking the amulet without telling me. I dared not say a word. In truth it was his amulet—he could take anything of mine at will, but why did he? And why have it taken so surreptitiously?

Apicius took the amulet from Sotas. I watched, my heart beating as fast as a dragonfly’s wings. “Hold this for me, Fannia dear?” He handed her his glass and tucked the disk into the folds of his toga.

“Certainly,” she said, glad for the opening. While Apicius rearranged his toga, she looked around to make sure no one was watching and took a slug of his wine. Aelia gasped but a look from Fannia silenced any admonishment that might have been forthcoming. Apicius recovered his wine from Fannia and took a sip.

“Aelia,” a voice called from behind.

Fannia made a small, panicked noise. Apicius jabbed me in the side and I quickly realized he wanted me to step back and find some way to become inconspicuous. I wasn’t sure how to do so but I slipped in behind Sotas and Helene, hoping Livia wouldn’t notice me.

Livia came near with Drusus and Livilla. Caesar’s wife held out her hand and Apicius leaned down to touch his lips to her ring. She turned to Fannia and Aelia to do the same. Fannia relaxed when it became clear that Livia hadn’t noticed her transgression with the wine.

“May the gods smile upon your new union,” Aelia said to the new couple.

“Many thanks. I hope this marriage will be as long as that of Caesar and my dear lady.” Livilla inclined her head toward Livia. I wondered if there was an underlying meaning in her words. Her previous marriage to Gaius had been short and the rumors about Livia’s desire to have Tiberius as heir at any cost, even that of Livilla’s previous husband, had circulated widely. Livia remained impassive, betraying nothing.

Aelia smiled, oblivious, and clearly delighted to be in the presence of such beautiful, famous people. Livilla was more alluring up close than she had been from afar. Her black hair, worn in an elaborate jeweled headdress, shimmered in the sunlight.

Drusus was barely eighteen, but already aiming to be a great military man. He smiled at Aelia. “I have word of your cousin, Sejanus.”

My ears perked up.

“You do? Oh, tell me he is well,” Aelia said, giving no hint at her true feelings. I marveled at her composure.

“Yes. He vanquished another band of barbarians in Germania. There is much for the gens Aelia to be proud of in their adopted son.”

My heart sank and I’m sure Aelia’s did as well.

“I hear Sejanus is a very brave soldier,” Livilla added.

“I’m sure that you are quite brave, Drusus.” Aelia adeptly changed the subject. “I hear that you have the makings of a fine soldier yourself.”

“I do love swinging a sharp sword about, true. I will be joining Tiberius in the north in a few months. I’m sure a few barbarians will meet the edge of my steel.”

Livia pointed a long finger at Apicius’s wineglass. “Perhaps you should join the drinking game, Apicius. You know wine better than so many others, I suspect.” Her voice was like honey, sticking in my ears. I knew it took everything for Apicius to smile at her words, as though they were the most welcome he had heard all day.

“Fantastic idea! I’ll stand in line,” he said, bowing his head. I was sure he was desperate to get away from Livia before she asked him anything, before Fannia said something that might implicate him, or, the gods forbid, before he developed sudden nausea, which might manifest itself on Livia’s sandals.

“Drusus, will you join me?”

The young man chuckled. “A drinking contest? I have a secret that will help us.” He reached into the folds of his toga and pulled out a little pouch. “I came prepared! Five or six of these bitter almonds should keep us sober. Lead the way, Gavius Apicius.”

Apicius indicated that Sotas should remain with Aelia, then raised his glass in salute before the two of them turned toward the line of men waiting to be chosen for the game. I took my cue from Sotas and didn’t move.

“Oh, I didn’t get to tell him thank you!” Livilla exclaimed. Her arm reached out toward Apicius, as though to beckon him back, but he was already out of earshot.

“Thank you for what?” Livia asked with a sniff.

“For the delightful dish of stuffed pumpkin fritters he sent for our wedding meal last night! I have never tasted anything so wonderful,” she said, her eyes rolling up toward the heavens.

“I wondered who’d sent those,” Livia said in a quiet voice. Then she saw me. She wrinkled her brow as though puzzled at my presence. My heart jumped like a bean in a hot pot. I lowered my eyes, praying to the gods that she would lose interest in me.

Aelia touched Livilla on the arm. “I’ll be sure to tell Apicius you liked the fritters. Did you also receive the pepper?”

Livilla took Aelia’s hand in her own and clutched it excitedly. “Yes! What a thoughtful gift and, I have to say, the little jars in which it came were my favorite part of the gift. Such bright colors.”

Livia had lost interest in the conversation and was staring in the direction of the game, watching Apicius as he went to sit on the long padded bench next to Trio and Drusus. Twenty patricians lined the benches to partake in the game and the slaves had already begun filling their first of eleven glasses. The winner was, quite simply, the one who could drink the most. An intricate crown of laurel leaves would be placed upon his head and a generous purse from Caesar would be placed in his hand. “I take it the fritters were good,” Fannia said, testing the waters with Livia.

“They were.” Livia tore her eyes away from the game and turned to Fannia. She flashed a smile at her rival.

“I know an easy answer to your dilemma.”

“My dilemma?” Livia sounded unsure if she should be angry or amused.

She flipped a thumb toward me. “You want his food in your kitchen, do you not? Simply convince Caesar to give Apicius the position he desires, that of gastronomic adviser. You win and he wins.” Fannia shifted her fan to better hold her glass. She glanced over to Apicius and the game. The group of men had downed their first glass and were being handed their second.

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