A Voice in the Wind (68 page)

“I know who you’re talking about, Primus,” she said. “Vitellius. Am I right?”

He raised his goblet in salute to her shrewdness, smiling at Prometheus, who was leaning against him. “You know I never break a confidence,” he said drolly.

“You can call him by whatever name you like, but you imitate his lisp so well, it leaves me in no doubt whatsoever. Vitellius it is. Fat, pompous, lisping Vitellius.”

“He’ll never trust me with another secret,” Primus said ruefully, then frowned in annoyance as Hadassah entered the triclinium with another tray. Prometheus stiffened slightly and drew away from Primus, who gave an irritated sigh. “Set the tray there and leave us,” he ordered tersely and glanced at Julia. “Tell her, Julia.” She nodded, and Hadassah silently went from the room. “I don’t like her,” Primus said, glaring toward the empty doorway.

“Why not?” Julia said, selecting a honeyed hummingbird tongue from the platter.

“Because every time she enters the room, Prometheus becomes agitated. Why don’t you sell her?”

“Because she pleases me,” Julia said and poured herself more wine. “She sings and tells stories.”

“I’ve heard some and I don’t like them, either. In case you hadn’t heard, Calabah has a healthy dislike for your slave, also.”

“She’s told me.” Julia gave him an impatient look and sipped her wine. She knew she was getting drunk, but she didn’t care. It was better than suffering from depression. She’d had no word from Atretes or Marcus or her mother. Everyone had deserted her. She saw Prometheus’ eyes flickering nervously toward the archway and felt a malicious satisfaction.

A servant entered. “My lady, your brother is here to see you.”

She sat up, spilling wine on her new green palus. She set the silver goblet down hurriedly and put her hand against her swimming head. “Bring him to me,” she said and pressed cold hands to her warm face. “Do I look all right?” she asked Primus.

“As lovely as a sea nymph rising from the foam.”

Marcus entered the room and seemed to fill it with his presence. He was so handsome, she swelled with pride looking at him.

“Marcus,” she said and held out her hands to him.

He took her hands and kissed her cheek. “Little sister,” he said affectionately. Then he straightened and glanced at Primus. “I wish to speak to my sister alone.”

Primus’ brows rose mockingly. “You forget where you are, Marcus. This is my villa, not yours.”

“Leave, Primus,” Julia said testily. “I haven’t seen my brother in weeks.”

“And we know why, don’t we?” he said, watching Marcus’ face as he took Prometheus’ hand. “Come, Prometheus. We’ll leave these two to talk over their differences.”

Marcus glared after him. “How you can sit and see how he acts with that boy is beyond me, Julia.”

Defensive, she retaliated. “Perhaps I’m more tolerant of others.

And who are you to judge Primus? I saw you more than once with Bithia.“

“There’s a vast difference.”

“Indeed there is. Primus is more faithful to Prometheus than you ever were to Arria or Fannia or a dozen others I could name. Besides,” she said airily, sitting down again, “I find Primus extremely sensitive. He was rude because you’ve hurt his feelings.” She reached for her wine again, feeling in need of it.

“No doubt he gives you your way in everything. You are paying all the bills, aren’t you?”

“And what if I am? It’s my money to do with as I like. I chose this villa, by the way. It’s beautiful, isn’t it? And in the most affluent section of the city. I chose the furnishings, too. That’s more than I’ve ever had to say about anything in my life.”

Marcus knew he had to quiet his temper. “You’re happy living this way?”

“Yes. I’m happy! Happier than I was with a repulsive old man obsessed with his studies or a handsome young man who was cruel beyond words. Caius would’ve run through all my money with his gambling if he hadn’t died.” Her voice cracked and she quickly drank more wine. Her hand was trembling, and she took a breath to calm herself. “Primus asks for very little, Marcus,” she said more quietly. “He’s no threat to me. He listens to my problems and encourages me to do whatever will make me happy. Besides, he makes me laugh.”

“I’d be careful what I told him, little sister. Primus has a very cutting wit, and he collects rumors like a dog collects fleas. It doesn’t take much to get him scratching and spreading everything. His penchant for gossip is what’s kept him in money for years. People pay him
not
to talk.”

She stretched out on the couch again. “Sit down and have something to eat, Marcus.” She waved an elegant hand over the laden trays. “It may improve your disposition.”

Marcus noted she was wearing several new rings, and the platters of food displayed an expensive array of delicacies. He made no comment. What was the use? Perhaps it was the rich food that accounted for her thickened waist, but he doubted it. He was fairly sure she was pregnant again, and he knew by whom.

“Primus isn’t in a position to hurt me, is he?” she said, smiling cynically. “But if you’re worried, I’ll ask him to overlook your deplorable behavior.”

“Don’t ask him to overlook anything!”

“Why did you come?” she said wearily, and her mask of haughty disdain slipped enough for him to see his vulnerable little sister beneath it.

He sighed heavily and came to her. “Julia,” he said gently and took her wine goblet from her, setting it aside. “I didn’t come to argue with you.”

“It’s Father,” she said, her eyes flickering with fear. “He’s dead, isn’t he?”

“No.”

Her body relaxed. “Did Mother tell him why I left?”

“She said you were visiting friends. He seems content with the letters she reads to him.”

“What letters?”

Marcus looked at her in surprise for a moment, then let out a soft breath of comprehension. Poor Mother. “Apparently, the ones she writes in your name.”

Julia got up and moved away from him, wanting to escape her guilt.

“We had a visitor this morning,” Marcus said. “A guard who had been instructed to bring you safely to Atretes.”

Julia swung around and stared at him. “Atretes sent for me?” She came back to him and clutched his hands. “Oh, Marcus. Where is he? You didn’t send him away, did you? If you did, I’ll kill myself. I swear it.” Her eyes welled with tears.

Marcus could feel her trembling. “I told him you were away and asked where his master could be reached when you returned.”

She let go of him and began to pace nervously. “I didn’t know what happened or where he went. You can’t imagine how unhappy I’ve been. I love him so much, Marcus, but when I sent for him, he refused to come to me.”

“How long have you been involved with this gladiator?”

She stopped and tipped her chin. “I don’t like the way you say
gladiator
. Atretes is a free man now and a Roman citizen.”

“How long, Julia?”

“Six months,” she said finally and saw his gaze move slowly down over her body.

“So, it’s his child you’re carrying.”

Julia blushed and covered her abdomen defensively. “Yes.”

“Does he know?”

She shook her head. “I’ve had no opportunity to tell him.”

“Obviously he doesn’t know about your marriage to Primus, either, or he wouldn’t have sent his guard to me to have you brought to him.”

“I planned to tell him about all this weeks ago, but I didn’t know where he was!”

“With very little effort, you could’ve found out. How are you going to explain Primus to him? Julia, I spoke to his guard. Atretes bought an estate a few miles outside Ephesus. He expects to marry you.”

She kept her face averted, and Marcus stood and went to her. He turned her around to face him and saw she was crying. “You don’t betray someone like Atretes,” he said softly.

“I haven’t betrayed him!” she cried, shaking free. “You don’t think I’d sleep with Primus, do you? I don’t! I don’t sleep with anyone.”

“I hope Atretes will listen long enough to let you explain that. You can’t toy with a man like this one, Julia.”

“I moved in with Primus before Atretes was freed,” she said, not meeting his eyes.

“That’s a lie, and you and I both know it. You moved in with Primus
after
the Ephesian games.”

“Well, Atretes needn’t know that! It’s only a matter of one day’s difference.”

“One day.” His eyes narrowed. “Did you know you were pregnant when you moved in with Primus?” He knew when she looked away that she had. “By all the gods, why did you move in here if you’re in love with Atretes?”

“If I’d told you about him, you wouldn’t have allowed me to see him again and you know it.”

“Possibly,” Marcus conceded. “But then you probably wouldn’t have given me any more say about that than you have with Primus. Listen to me,” he said, striving for control. “Right now, I’d approve anything over this unnatural arrangement you are in. I’ll take you to Atretes myself, right now if you wish it.”

“No. I moved in with Primus for all the reasons I told you.”

“Then you don’t love Atretes.”

“I love him, but I could never marry him. Think about it, Marcus. He doesn’t think like a Roman. In fact, he hates Rome, hates it absolutely. What if we grew tired of one another, and I fell in love with someone else? Would he let me be happy? No.

He’s a barbarian. They drown unfaithful wives in a bog. And what if he wanted to go back to Germania?“ She gave a harsh laugh. ”Can you see me living in a filthy longhouse, or whatever it is that barbarians live in? But he could make me go, couldn’t he? Just because I was his wife!“

Marcus listened to her in disbelief. “Do you really think Atretes will come to you now and be your lover when you’re involved with another man?”

“Isn’t it the same thing as Arria?”

He frowned. “What are you talking about?”

“You knew about her affairs with various gladiators. She used to tell you about them, don’t you remember? I asked you why you permitted her to be unfaithful to you, and you told me Arria was free to do whatever she wished. And you were free to do the same.”

“I never intended you to fashion your life after Arria!”

“I didn’t. I fashioned it after you.”

Marcus stared at her, stunned into silence.

Julia kissed his cheek. “Don’t look so surprised. What would you expect from a sister who adores you? Now, tell me where Atretes is.” When he told her, she sat down. “I’m tired,” she said, drowsy from all the wine she had drunk. She lay back against the cushions and closed her eyes. “You can tell Mother about the baby if you want.” Her mouth curved in amusement. “Maybe she’ll think better of Primus.”

Marcus leaned down and kissed her forehead. “I doubt it.”

She caught hold of his hand. “Will you come back?”

“Yes. Maybe I can undo what I’ve done.”

She kissed his hand. “I don’t think so.” She smiled, thinking he was teasing her as he always had, not hearing the hard tone in his voice.

As Marcus went out of the room, he saw Hadassah sitting on a bench, her hands folded loosely in her lap. Was she praying? She lifted her head and saw him. She arose gracefully, her gaze lowering from his in respect. Marcus crossed the room and stood before her. It was a moment before he could speak. “Mother and Father miss you.”

“I miss them, too, my lord. How does your father fare?”

“He’s worse.”

“I’m sorry,” she said softly.

He knew she meant it, and her sincerity filled him with inexplicable pain. He reached out and let his hand glide down her arm. “I’ll find a way to bring you home,” he said huskily.

She withdrew from his touch. “Lady Julia needs me, my lord.”

He let his hand drop to his side. She stepped past him. “I need you, too,” he said softly and heard her stop behind him. He turned his head and saw she was looking back at him with tears in her eyes. She turned away again and went into the triclinium. To Julia.

At the soft scraping sound of sandals above him, Marcus glanced up sharply.

“We’ll see you again soon, won’t we, Marcus?” Primus said, smiling down at him. He puckered as though to kiss him and then grinned. “Oh, yes, I’m sure we will.”

As Primus’ soft mocking laughter floated down into the peristyle, Marcus turned and strode angrily toward the door.

Atretes grasped Julia’s wrists and yanked her hands down from around his neck. Shaking with murderous rage, he thrust her from him. “If you weren’t with child, I’d kill you,” he said through clenched teeth and walked out of the room.

Julia ran after him. “It’s your child! I swear it! I haven’t betrayed you. Primus is nothing to me. Atretes! Don’t leave me! Listen to me! Listen!” she cried out, weeping. “
Atretes
!”

Leaping onto his chariot, Atretes grabbed up the reins and shouted. The matched white stallions lunged forward into the street. Shouting again, he took the whip and drove them harder until they were racing with all their strength. People dove out of the way, shouting curses after him.

He reached the edge of the city and raced on. The wind in his face didn’t cool his rage. The villa he had bought rose ahead of him on a green hillside. A guard saw him coming and opened the gate. He raced through and turned the chariot, showering the entryway with small rocks. Throwing the reins out of his way, he stepped down and left the lathered animals to prance nervously as he strode up the marble steps into the house.

“Get out of my sight!” he shouted at the slaves who’d been preparing for the arrival of their new mistress. Giving a savage cry, he swept the feast from its long table. Silver and gold trays crashed to the floor, goblets slammed into the wall, chipping the mural that was painted there. He kicked the table over, smashed the murrhine glass, and heaved the Corinthian bronze vases.

Yanking the Babylonian hangings down from the wall, he ripped them in two. He overturned couches and destroyed the Oriental silk cushions.

Striding through the archway, he went into the chamber that had been prepared for Julia. Kicking over the ornate braziers, he scattered hot coals beneath the big bed and into the soft canopy of netting that draped over and around it. It caught fire quickly. As the bed began to burn, Atretes swept a large box from a beautifully hand-carved table and scattered pearls and jewels across the marble mosaic floor.