“Marcus…”
“I had to do it, love. And when we return to the city next week, I will make good on my promise.”
“No wonder you’ve seemed preoccupied ever since we arrived. I should have been more supportive.”
Crassus chuckled. “I can’t imagine how. Unless you can perform some kind of magic and cancel that picnic at Solfatara tomorrow.”
“I will if you wish it. But I think we should take the waters. The fumes will do you good. Relax you.”
“I have no doubt. It’s the noxious gases spewing from the likes of Cicero, Lucullus and the others we came here to escape that I would rather not inhale.”
“Don’t worry, my sweet,” Tertulla said, rising to stand before her husband. She took his hands and drew him to his feet. Crassus watched as the motion caused a pair of water drops to fall from the rapidly rising tips of her nipples. “I’ll protect you. Now come with me.”
“Where to, my pet?”
“To the anointment room.”
They walked naked to the small unctuarium, adjacent to the warm pool. I followed and found another wall. I would continue to do so until Crassus gave me permission to retire.
Livia was waiting for them. Her short, cream tunic was cinched tight about the waist, pulling its hem halfway up her thighs, the sight of which made my toes ache. As soon as she saw our masters, she began pouring the wine that she had fetched, having diluted it only slightly with spring water.
“Are you doing the honors this evening, Livia? What happened to Tranio?”
“I asked for Livia to attend us,” his wife said. “I’m certain you will approve of the substitution. But first, Alexander has earned his rest. May I dismiss him?”
“Why? I need him: he is the whetting stone upon which I sharpen my wit.”
“Now is not the time for rhetoric. Besides, I think you’ll find Livia’s tongue just as sharp. Please?”
Livia handed dominus a cup of wine. “Well,” Crassus said, taking the offered cup, “personally I think you’re working her too hard.” He sipped the wine. “Gods! This is ambrosia.”
“It’s the best we have,” Tertulla said. “Livia, join us.”
“Thank you, domina.” She poured herself half a cup and emptied it. “To the house of Crassus. May it’s strength multiply like the silver coins in its coffers.”
“Splendid,” Crassus said. “Well spoken.” He took a mouthful of wine and closed his eyes to savor it.
“Your impertinence is excusable,” Tertulla said, “But do not think it goes unnoticed.”
“Am I missing something?” Crassus asked.
“She mocks us, dear. You sent her mother to mine your silver in Greece.”
“An Alexander in female guise. Delightful!”
“Perform your best, Livia,” Tertulla said. “The past is set down in a thousand thousand indelible scrolls. But the future is a blank parchment forever in wait of a present.”
“Yes, domina.”
“Those were sad times for this house,” Crassus said. “Best we put them behind us.” His voice had turned as unyielding as concrete, his subtext clear: the judgment of Sabina was final.
I had been required to be in attendance during many forms of my masters’ copulations, from parties with over a hundred guests to the more frequent and private meetings of husband and wife. This was the first time Livia had ever been summoned to take part. I had not thought of Greece for years, but now I found myself longing desperately for home. My gaze rose to the cove ceiling, both to avert my eyes and to keep my self-pity from rolling down my cheeks.
“Come,” Tertulla said, wanting to regain a lighter mood, “let us use the new unguents we got in town today. You’re going to love these, Marcus. Livia, the rosaceum and the crocus-oil.”
“Crocus-oil?” Crassus asked. “How much did you pay for that? Never mind, I don’t want to know.” He put the cup down and raised his arms.
“With your permission, dominus?” Livia asked, her tone moderately strained, our master thoroughly oblivious. Crassus nodded, and she opened the two ampullae oleariae and handed one to her mistress. Wife and slave anointed dominus with the precious unguents and began in earnest to apply them.
“ Dominus,” I said. “Please, may I be excused?”
“Let him go, love. Truly, we do not require an audience.”
“I see, so that’s where we’re headed. Well as it happens, I like an audience. Besides, Alexander may be master of all things ethereal and esoteric, but he is sorely lacking in the ways of the flesh. We do him a service by insisting that he stay.”
Tertulla threw me a look of compassion, but punctuated it with a sigh. She had prepared this evening to take her husband’s mind off his work and my discomfiture was not a high priority. Crassus had already moved on. He raised his wine cup to his lips, then stopped suddenly and exclaimed, “You know, I think you’re right, dove. I think that when I have moved these pieces to their proper place on the board, I will have very likely saved the Republic!”
“You are hopeless, husband,” Tertulla said. “Fortunately for you, I am not. Livia, stronger measures are required. Clean him up a little, but don’t be too thorough. I don’t want all that expensive oil off him just yet.” Tertulla pressed up against him from behind, moving her hands over his chest and stomach. Livia went to a cabinet and retrieved a silver-plated strigil which she methodically but lightly ran down her master’s arms, then legs. She collected the runoff in a small cup attached to the instrument by a golden chain.
“Darling,” Crassus said, “we may need to search for a new seamstress. Livia has a gift.” He stood with legs and arms spread, beginning to respond to the hands that moved upon him.
“ Dominus,” I said, my eyes downcast, my voice low, “do not make me do this.”
Everyone stopped and turned to look at me. Crassus appeared as if he were considering acceding to my request or summoning his lorarius. I did not care; a whipping would be less painful, or so I thought at the time. Before he could speak, Livia said, “You and my mother were so naive.” Her laugh was almost genuine. “Did you really think Boaz would not get full value from me? Watch and see what I learned.”
“No.” Gods above and below, Livia had pushed dominus to his decision. “Leave us, Alexander, and take with you the knowledge of just how close you came to reaping my displeasure.”
My back ached and my stomach threatened revolution, yet I managed to find my way back to my quarters. I would never know if Livia spoke the truth, just as I would never know if being dismissed from that room was better or worse than the sights my imagination plagued me with that night. To blot them out I squeezed my eyelids shut till suns and stars blazed behind my eyes. One shining godsend careened among them: Sabina would die without ever knowing that no decent freedman would ever take her despoiled daughter for a wife.
PART II — Master to Slave
Chapter XXIV
62 BCE — Summer, Baiae Year of the consulship of Decimus Junius Silanus and Lucius Licinius Murena
“Alexander, back so soon?” asked Crassus.
It was early summer, and for the eighth year running we had escaped to the south, hoping to trade the stink and heat of Rome for the ornate tranquility of the general’s Baiaen villa. This morning, however, peace and quiet were being trampled by engineers working on the new mineral baths Crassus was having installed halfway down the hillside. The sun was just beginning to warm the southern slopes of smoldering Vesuvius.
In Egypt, a daughter of pharaoh Ptolemy Auletes, Cleopatra Philopator, had just celebrated her seventh birthday. Earlier in the year, a conspiracy to overthrow the Republic was thwarted and its leader, Lucius Sergius Catilina was killed, thanks entirely, to hear him tell it, to Marcus Tullius Cicero. Pompeius Magnus had been busy in the east, his armies turning nations into Roman provinces, including Pontus, Phoenicia, the two Syrias and Judea. The Jews barricaded themselves in their temple fortress, but it fell to the Pompey’s machines of war. He killed twelve thousand of the defenders, profaned the temple by entering the Holy of Holies, but left the gold and relics therein intact, ordering the temple purified and restored. For his conquests he would receive his third and greatest triumph. But my hand runs away from my thoughts.