Unfortunately, I had much to care about that night. After the second course I saw Fannia had passed out on her couch. I instructed our slaves to bring her, as inconspicuously as they could, home to Apicius’s villa. I wished upon her a terrible headache when she awoke.
At the end of the meal Tiberius and Drusus stood to announce the “winner” of the battle. I stepped forward with the massive wreath of flowers woven for the occasion. “I hereby offer this wreath to the winner,” Tiberius shouted grandly, the crowd clapping and whistling their approval. He waited a moment, building the tension of the crowd, then motioned for Drusus to place the wreath at Diana’s golden feet. The lamplight flickered off her gilded skin, making it look as though she glowed with pleasure.
“A perfect cena!” Tiberius proclaimed before he left for the night. He waved at his body-slave to slip pouches of golden aurei into our hands. I was not prepared to feel such weight in my palm.
“Now I know what I have been missing,” Livia said to me pleasantly before she took her leave. She leaned in conspiratorially. “Apicius was a fool not to have sold you to me those years ago. Such a costly mistake that was.”
“I’m glad you enjoyed the banquet . . .” I was unsure what else to say.
She didn’t reply and moved on, leaving me in the company of my dear little bird. Apicata gave me a kiss on the cheek and made me promise to send her some of the leftover sweetmeats for her children. I watched her go, my heart aching.
? ? ?
I left the slaves under Rúan’s care to clean up after the feast and rode in the litter with Apicius and Aelia to the villa. I had hoped to tell Apicius about Fannia and also about Livia’s words to me.
I didn’t have the heart. Apicius was elated. I don’t remember ever seeing him so happy. I couldn’t bear to break his mood.
“What a night! Tomorrow we will go to the temples of Neptune and Diana and give tribute.”
“Tonight we will sleep hard as rocks, I suspect.” Aelia patted Apicius’s knee.
He smiled and kissed Aelia on the cheek in a rare display of affection. “Tonight we will. Tomorrow, we begin planning another feast, Thrasius!”
I coughed. “We do?” The last thing I wanted to do was go through that exercise again.
“Yes! In a fortnight we entertain King Herod of Galilee.” He clapped his hands together joyfully.
“Ahh, Herod, we meet again,” I muttered. I hoped that the next banquet for him would be better than the first—the terrible one we held at the school all those years past.
“Yes, Tiberius informed me tonight. No pork and no shellfish at this feast! This will be a challenge, Thrasius!”
I smiled, but dreaming up another feast was the furthest thing from my mind.
PART IX
24 C.E. to 26 C.E.
RELISH FROM BAIAE
Put chopped oysters, mussels, and sea urchins in a pan, add chopped roasted pine nuts, rue, celery, pepper, coriander, cumin, passum, liquamen, dates, and oil.
—Book 9.11, The Sea
On Cookery, Apicius
CHAPTER 24
Over the course of the next three years, we saw little of Livia, but her warning still echoed in my mind. I had no doubt the grudge she bore was deep, heavy, and would last longer than the stones of the Appian Way. Apicius and I also found that the parties and banquets we threw were not mandated by Tiberius as much as they were by Sejanus.
“I told you no. I will not let you marry that slave, and that is that, Thrasius. Do not ask me again!”
I had been in the service of Apicius for fifteen years as a freedman, but despite all my promises, he still did not believe that I would stay if Passia were free. Legally she was old enough, at thirty-nine, and her peculium was more than enough to purchase her freedom, but she could not do so without permission from Apicius. He freed many slaves, but still refused Passia.
I refused to give up. “Apicius, please, listen to me.”
“I said no!” Apicius stormed across the kitchen, knocking over a jug on a counter he passed by.
A flick of the wrist from Timon was all it took to set one of the slaves in motion to clean it up. The rest of the staff quickly moved the breakables out of Apicius’s path.
“Marcus, be reasonable.” Aelia entered the kitchen.
He whirled on her. “Why are you here? You should have sent Helene.” Apicius’s words were harsh. I felt their sting from across the room.
“Helene is ill, husband. That’s why I’m here, for a remedy.”
“I’ll buy you another body-slave. Is that what you want?”
Aelia looked up, her mouth wide with shock. “No! She has a cold. Why would I need another slave? I will not replace Helene!”
“Then stop complaining about her.”
Aelia faltered, then gathered herself and stood up straight. “Why are you being so mean? Not just to me but to Thrasius? He is your friend. Why do you continue to deny him his request to marry Passia?”
“Wife, you know you are out of line.” He pressed his fist to his mouth, his knuckles white.
“My husband, please hear him. And hear me. Passia and Thrasius love each other. I have seen this love in their every action. So few people ever feel Cupid’s arrow. The lady Venus has chosen them to be together. Why do you thwart the gods and keep them apart?”
“They are NOT apart!” he roared, causing Aelia to take a step back. “If I wanted them to be apart that woman would be on the first slave caravan to Egypt. In fact, I think I have been very generous.”
For a moment, I could not catch my breath. The very thought of Apicius selling Passia was unfathomable.
Aelia tried again and I loved her for the effort. “Do it for me, Apicius. I ask you this as a favor to me. If you love me, please, consider his petition. Do it as a gift to me.”
Apicius glared at her. The tension in the room was thick. Finally, he extended his hand toward the door. “Begone, wife! How dare you ask me for favors? This has nothing to do with love. Now go before I strike you and remind you of your place in this household.”
The color drained from Aelia’s face. She gathered up the edges of her stola and fled the kitchen.
“That was cruel,” I said to my former master once she had gone.
“No, that was kind. She needs to know her place.”
I seethed.
He turned back to me. “Thrasius, you need to understand. I have other things to worry about without your petty demands.”
I shut my open mouth and put my knives into the basket on the shelf below the counter. Apicius looked unpredictable.
He slammed his fists down on my table. “Like Sejanus. May Pluto take him soon. My intentions were to work for Caesar, not the damned head of the Praetorian Guard.”
The way that Apicius changed the conversation did not escape my attention. But I knew him. Pushing the issue would only make him more stubborn. Begrudgingly I responded, “If Caesar were involved, the meals would still be the same. The same kings, governors, senators. It might be worse. You’ve heard of Tiberius’s cruelty and debauchery. Be glad he is absent from the meals.”