Glycon looked across the couch at me. “You were born under the scales, a sign auspicious for butchers, cooks, and bakers alike. Venus rules your sign and you have a love for beauty and pleasure. You entertain with elegance and style.”
“All true!” Apicius said eagerly. I looked at him and at Sotas, who bobbed his head. Apicius’s unsightly ambition was peeking out from behind the purple-striped toga he wore. All reason departed when Apicius heard divinations about food, me, entertaining, and how those three things would comprise his future. Despite the type of divination, be it at a temple to Fortuna, at the hands of a marketplace augur, or even at last year’s pilgrimage to the Oracle of Delphi, the outcome was always the same. Apicius was bound to ignore the bounty before him and the warnings of its potential loss. With each new diviner I found my pity for my former master only grow.
“So, my future?” I was already tired of the exchange.
“I will need to read more of the stars before I can tell you much, I fear. But I know you will soon have a child, born under the sign of Taurus or Gemini.”
The world seemed to slow. I gripped the edge of the couch. When I felt Passia’s hand tighten on my ankle, the world began to right itself.
Passia and I had long differed on our position about children. She wanted them, as did I, but I did not want to bring a life into a world of slavery. Until Passia was free, any child she bore would be owned by Apicius. And as judicious as he was toward me, he was not so about Passia. He saw her as the key to keeping me here. And if we had children? None of us would ever be free. To that end, I paid dearly for the concoction of wild carrot and artemisia Passia took to prevent pregnancy. I even took a great risk in “borrowing” a tiny pinch of silphium from Apicius every so often to infuse a jar of water for her to sip from each month. How had she conceived? She was also not young, at twenty-nine, which was worrisome. I had heard of women giving birth in their thirties, but they often did not make it through the pregnancy. I pushed the thought away.
Apicius was the first to speak. “Passia, is this true?”
She hesitated. Her eyes said everything—the truth, her fear, her hope. A surge of love for her pushed through me.
She drew a breath, her words slow and careful. “Yes, Dominus, it is. It is likely the child will be born in June.”
Apicius didn’t congratulate either of us. He was too taken in by the accuracy of his new astrologer. “Well done, Glycon, well done! Now tell me, what is my fate?”
I was elated, scared, and disappointed at the same time. Why hadn’t Passia told me?
My lover trembled next to me and worry filled her dark eyes. My resistance melted. I could not be angry with her. Passia’s hand rested on my leg and I reached down to squeeze her fingers in mine. Damn this astrologer! This was news that should have been shared between us, in private.
Glycon started coughing, tearing my attention away from Passia.
“Excuse me. In the winter I tend to congest with phlegm.”
“You have had too much water,” Apicius admonished. “You need to dry that humor out. I’ll send a slave with a tincture later. Now tell me, what do you see for me?”
Glycon smiled. “Marcus Gavius Apicius, I see the stars aligning for you within the next three years. It will be a time of great prosperity. However, it appears—”
Apicius cut him off. “What sort of prosperity?”
I sighed. Apicius never wanted to hear what came after “however.”
“The stars are never specific, but I see wealth and recognition heaped upon you. But I must warn you, there will also be as much sadness as there is success.”
“I am prepared for that,” Apicius remarked, taking a sip of wine. He had heard it before—the warning—in one form or another.
“Do you see any ghosts around me? My mother, perhaps?”
I was surprised to learn that Apicius still worried about Popilla. It had been years since her death.
Glycon raised an eyebrow. “I am not a priest of Pluto.”
Apicius waved a hand at him. “Yes, yes, I know, but surely the stars can tell if there are any ghosts who may hinder me?”
The astrologer nodded. “Ahh. I understand. No. I do not see any influence of that sort. I think you are free of her.”
Visible relief passed through Apicius.
A commotion at the door caused us all to look in that direction. One of the door slaves was whispering to Sotas.
“Gallus is here, Dominus. He says he has a shipment for you from Iberia. He is awaiting payment.”
The almonds and honey we’d ordered last month had arrived. Apicius jumped up from his place on the couch. Most men of his stature would leave the receiving of goods to the housekeeper, but not Apicius. He was obsessed with looking over each order himself. I rose to follow but he waved at me to sit back down.
“Finish up with Glycon, then attend me for inspection.” He departed, leaving Passia and me with the strange old man.
I seized the brief moment, feeling suddenly compelled. If he was right about Passia, perhaps there was some merit to the man. “What do you see about Apicata?” We saw her rarely. When she visited she was reserved, and often I thought I saw bruises under the edges of her stola. She spoke little of her life with Sejanus, instead turning the conversation toward Apicius’s trips or food, or toward Aelia’s excursions to the market or temple visits. I wanted to ask Glycon about Sejanus but it was too dangerous; the man was becoming more powerful all the time and I knew not where the astrologer’s loyalties lay.
He glanced down at the tablet where he had scrawled her birth date. “I need to consult my charts. I am unprepared to tell you anything other than the general qualities for her sign. Let me compare her moon sign and I will let you know what I find.”
I motioned to Tycho, who had been lingering in the hallway with the serving slaves. “Please make sure this man is taken care of. Bring food to his chamber and show him the roof as we discussed.” Tycho bowed and departed.
? ? ?
“Why didn’t you tell me?” I asked Passia as soon as we were alone.
“I was nervous. I didn’t know if you would be angry with me.” She kept her eyes averted.
I cupped her chin in my hand, turning her face to look upward at me. “My treasure, you should never fear me.”
“I know we shouldn’t have a child. But it seems the Fates have another plan for us.” Tears caught at the corners of her dark eyes. I brushed them away with my thumbs.
“We’ll have to figure out a better plan to buy your freedom.” I took her bronze neck plate in my hand. “And when we do, we’ll melt this down and make it into an amulet for the babe.” I smiled.
“I do not think Dominus will ever let me go. He fears losing you too much.”
I pulled her close and kissed her softly. “Then we’ll have to figure out what he might fear more.”