“Sejanus is not any better.”
There was nothing I could say. I looked down at my hands. They were smeared with pig grease and blood. I waited for his words. He stared at me, then left. I watched him go, sadness welling within me.
? ? ?
Two days later I took an early-morning walk with Passia and Junius across the Palatine, enjoying the brisk autumn air, fresh after a long rainfall. Our time together was scarce, with all the elaborate cenae Apicius and I planned and Passia’s increasing role as one of Aelia’s body-slaves. Junius spent much of his time in the company of other slave children. At ten, he was still growing faster than asparagus in the spring. Passia looked beautiful that day. My hand entwined with hers as we walked. I tried not to think of the fact that her hand was still devoid of the ring I longed to give her.
Junius walked ahead of us, kicking around a ball I’d made him by drying and inflating a pig bladder from the kitchen. Apicius had spent time with the boy, helping him paint the ball with bright colors.
Passia waved at one of the slaves from the villa who was returning from the market with a basket of fruit on her head. “Glycon has been making dire predictions to Aelia,” she said.
“All his predictions of late have been dire. Rarely does he say the stars are aligned. I get the sense he doesn’t really tell us the worst of it.”
She looked at me, her eyes dark. “You feel that way too?”
“I do. And you know I don’t like to believe the tales he spins. What did he say about Aelia?”
“He told her the end of her marriage is near.” Passia slowed her pace.
“By the gods! He told her that was in the stars? Why on earth would he say that to her?”
She slowed her pace so Junius couldn’t hear. “She’s distraught. He couldn’t tell her more; he says the stars don’t give—”
“Details, I know. When was this? Does Apicius know?”
“Yesterday. She doesn’t want to tell Apicius. She wants to change things. Today she is going to the temple of Juno Viriplaca, hoping the goddess of marital strife will show her favor.”
“I realize he’s not very nice to her these days, but Apicius won’t divorce her. He has no other. He doesn’t even go near the slaves anymore. His mind is consumed with food and power. What sort of nonsense is Glycon filling her mind with?”
She stopped me. “You can’t tell Apicius.”
“Why not? Apicius deserves to know his astrologer is lying to his wife.”
Passia picked up the pace, not saying anything for a moment. I walked with her, accustomed to these silences, knowing she was thinking.
“What if he’s right?” Passia asked.
“Ridiculous.” A lone raindrop hit me on the nose.
“He was right about Junius. And he predicted a good feast for Tiberius last year. And that we’d have good crops on the farms this summer. He’s been right about a lot of things. What if he knows something is going to happen?”
“I don’t believe it.”
The rain started to fall in a rush, soaking our tunics and spattering mud up against our ankles. Junius laughed as he ran by us on the race back to the domus. Passia and I followed him, holding hands like children.
? ? ?
A week later, I was preserving the last of the apples for the winter ahead when I heard the clamor of horns—fire horns—in the distance. I did not think much about this until later, when I could hear Passia’s screams ringing through the house.
“They’re dead! They’re dead!” It took me a moment to register her words and realize the implications. My heart caught in my throat. Passia had accompanied Fannia and Aelia to the market that day.
I flew through the corridors, not caring what I knocked over or who I bumped into. I arrived in the atrium to find Passia on her knees, keening, her hair loose and flowing across her shoulders and face, with strands in her mouth.
I fell to the tiles and gathered her in my arms. She sobbed and I stroked her hair. “Shhh, you’re all right, my sweet Passia.”
Apicius and Sotas arrived, as did all the other slaves in the house. Apicius dropped to his knees alongside me. He grabbed Passia by the shoulders. “Who? Who is dead? Tell me, woman, tell me!”
Passia looked through the veil of her hair and tears at Apicius. I could almost see the words clumping up into sobs in her throat. Apicius slapped her.
“Tell me, slave! Where is Aelia? Where is Fannia?”
“Dead!” She started wailing again.
Apicius shook her. “What do you mean? How?”
“Fire . . . locked in a shop . . . I couldn’t get to them!”
Passia closed her eyes and wailed at the sky. Apicius let her go and she fell against me. I wrapped my arms around her.
Sotas instructed the guards to go find out about the fire. Apicius had curled into a ball on the floor, eyes staring ahead blankly but tears flowing across his face to the tiles.
Sotas broke in and took Passia from me, pulling her up off the floor and half carrying her to a nearby chair. He sat her in it and pushed the hair from her face.
“You have to tell us what happened!”
I moved over to Apicius and helped him sit up. I held him as I would a child, my arms around him, hugging him. He buried his head in my shoulder. “I don’t want to hear.” He sobbed so softly it reached only my ears. His sorrow mingled with my own and I could not keep the tears from my eyes.
A nearby slave brought Passia a glass of wine, which she drank in big gulps. Sotas sat next to her and stroked her hand till she was able to slow her tears. “My little friend, please tell us.”
“We went to the Caelian Hill,” she began to say.
“Why did you go there? The market isn’t on the Caelian!” I burst out.
Passia started crying again and Sotas glared at me. I nodded my head, chastened. He stroked her hand again until she quieted. “Tell us.”
“Fannia came to visit this morning and Domina Aelia came out to greet her when she was getting out of her litter. A boy ran up to them saying that he had a message for Dominus Apicius. Fannia snatched it—you know how nosy she is—read it, and discovered that it was a note about some silphium for sale by a man at the bottom of the Caelian Hill, not far from the cooking school. Fannia had the idea to surprise Dominus. She told Aelia that it would be a gift that would make Dominus love her all the more. She asked me to accompany them.” She sniffed and wiped her nose with her hand. “When we arrived at the house a man answered and told us to come inside. He said he had bags full of silphium. I was going to follow them into the house but Aelia told me to go back to a market stall we had passed and get some pretty jars to put the silphium in.”
Sotas continued to stroke her hand. “Did he seem dangerous?”
“No . . . he looked nice.” She hesitated and sniffed. “I remember thinking he was dressed too well for where he lived.”