“He bans other religions for their superstitions and yet he is more superstitious than them all.”
“Some of the astrologers are terribly accurate, though. I could see why Tiberius is afraid of them,” Trio countered. “I mean, look at how accurate your astrologer was, Apicius. How many things he told you came true?”
Apicius was silent for a moment, then he stood up suddenly, knocking Sotas backward and startling all in the bath. “And how would you know how many predictions have come true?” His voice echoed through the vast chamber, reaching the ears of hundreds of bathers. “You know nothing! Nothing at all! You know only of Caesar’s games and of scarfing down all the food on your friends’ couches. You know nothing of me or my life.”
We all watched, openmouthed, as he stormed out of the bath, naked, his penis shriveled and nestled underneath his big belly. Sotas managed to regain his balance and ran to follow him but slipped on the wet tiles and hit his head, knocking himself out. I cursed under my breath.
I could hear Apicius still yelling, “Nothing! You know nothing!”
I rushed to Sotas’s side. “Tycho, fetch our clothes, and fast!”
Trio came to help me, lifting the big slave’s head to see if he had cracked it open. I breathed a sigh of relief when there was no blood. “What was that about?” Trio asked me. There was no anger in his voice, only concern.
“Glycon predicted Aelia’s death.”
Trio drew in a breath that whistled between his teeth. “I didn’t realize. I was thinking of how he predicted the arrival of your son.”
“Did you see Apicius?” I asked when Tycho returned with our clothes.
“No, but people were talking about a naked man leaving the bath.”
“Help Sotas and make sure he sees a physician, please. I’ll go find Apicius.”
“Yes, Master.”
“No, you go with Thrasius,” Trio said to Tycho. “I’ll bring Sotas to Apicius’s villa in my litter.” Trio waved us on.
I ran out of the baths, not bothering to put my sandals on. Tycho followed and I was grateful for Trio’s kindness in the wake of Apicius’s terrible outburst.
I decided to go toward home, hoping Apicius might have headed there. We didn’t have to run far before we could hear the jeers of a crowd. When we reached the commotion, my worst fears were realized.
Apicius walked in a slow daze through the crowd, his body still pink from the bath and the scraping of the strigils. He wasn’t clean, however. Instead he was covered with dust from the streets and the scraps of vegetables thrown at him. A big leaf of lettuce was stuck to the back of his head.
Children tossed pebbles and handfuls of straw at him, laughing as they circled wide. Women made the sign of the evil eye and turned their heads away. Men hurled obscenities at him.
Nothing seemed to touch Apicius, not beyond the shell of his skin. I rushed to him and Tycho helped me push the people away. He had brought a couple of towels and I wrapped them around my old master, doing my best to shield him from other vegetables still being tossed in our direction. He didn’t seem to register that I was there.
“That’s old Apicius!” someone yelled. It was a taberna owner who waggled a crispy chicken leg at us over the heads of the patrons on the stools of his roadside counter.
A new chant arose. “Pig! Gorger! Glutton! Pig! Gorger! Glutton!”
“We’ve got to get him out of here!” I tried to lead Apicius out of the frenzied crowd but he was slow and did not want to move.
“Aelia.”
I heard him whisper her name just as a flurry of thrown figs exploded against the back of my tunic.
A horn broke through the sounds of the crowd. Nervous that it was one of Caesar’s guards, I turned to look.
Trio’s litter and a handful of his armed guards cut through the people surrounding us. Taunting a naked old man was one thing. Braving the wrath of a patrician was another. While the chants continued, the vegetable throwing stopped and the crowd parted until the litter came up to us. “Come now, get in,” Trio said, opening up the curtains. His slaves helped me lift Apicius into the litter until he sat next to where Sotas lay among the cushions.
Apicius only stared ahead.
“Thank you, Trio,” I said once the litter was moving again and I had caught my breath.
“No, do not thank me. I can only hope that if I fall prey to such misfortune someone like you would look after me. It is the least I can do.”
Sotas awoke shortly after. “Dominus Apicius?” he asked before he had even opened his eyes. I marveled at his loyalty. We explained what had happened as Sotas sat up. He moved over to sit next to his master. “Dominus? I am here if you need me.”
Apicius said nothing. The entire way home he continued to stare ahead, seemingly unaware of his surroundings.
Trio stayed with us at the villa until the physician arrived; then he left, promising to check in with us the next day. The physician proclaimed it to be an acute case of melancholia and advised us to give him opium and to feed him a strict diet of mushrooms and leeks—no meat.
Apicius ate when we fed him but did not speak. He seemed happy when he had opium and he would talk on occasion but it was mostly only to speak his dead wife’s name.
“It’s been nearly two years. Why now?” I ranted to Sotas the first night of his illness.
His response was matter-of-fact. “He has been cursed.”
“But by whom?”
“He has many enemies.”
I could not argue with him.
? ? ?
Apicius’s illness reminded me much of how Apicata reacted when we told her she could not marry Casca. I remembered it was Apicius who broke through to her. I hoped his daughter might do the same for him now.
On the seventh day I sent an urgent message to her. I hadn’t wanted to worry her but now I was afraid she might be our only hope of having Apicius back.
Apicata came the moment she heard the news. “I will help him,” she said after the door slaves let her in. She brushed past me toward his chamber. I stood aside and let her enter. She shooed Sotas and the other slaves out, then closed the door behind her.
She remained with him for an hour before emerging. Sotas, Passia, and I waited in the nearby atrium, barely speaking. Sotas paced the corridor along the garden and we watched, holding hands and hoping.
Apicius was with her, dressed in a simple blue tunic and a pair of his fine red shoes. “My father is hungry,” she announced. She turned to him. “What would you like, Father?”
“Something other than a plate of damned mushrooms.” A broad smile lit up his face. “Thrasius, I think I am craving chicken. What about one of your Parthian dishes tonight?”
I gaped, unable to believe the transformation that had taken place in Apicius’s eyes. “Yes,” I finally managed. “Chicken. I’ll make chicken!”
“Good! I think I’ll help tonight. It’s been a long time since I was in the kitchen.”
He turned down the hall and Sotas and Passia hurried to follow him. I stopped Apicata.