Gladiatrix (19 page)

‘But, my lady, don't you want to impress Plautius with my fighting ability?' I argued. ‘Wouldn't it be better for him to just see me fight?' I said that tentatively. She wouldn't take criticism well, and her desire to placate me was probably minimal. But I had to find a way out of this play!

Instead of overreacting, she seemed to consider my point. ‘Plautius will have his spies at the demonstration tomorrow. But Cleopatra was a whore, as well as a fighting queen.'

‘But Psyche?' I appealed. ‘Doesn't that seem a little out of character for a gladiatrix? She was a pea-brained idiot.'

Domitia was struck by my point, tapping her chin with one finger.

Philemon was deeply offended. ‘It's a marvellous love story!' he spluttered.

‘You mean for once no-one dies a horrible death in the end,' I remarked. The Greco-Roman myths were full of lust and bloody endings, and commonly featured incest, cannibalism and ingenious torture. Thinking on that, the choice could have been worse.

Domitia, having also thought about it, said with renewed confidence, ‘Gladiatrix, your costumes will be revealing. And the scenes are racy, so no-one is going to be rating your intelligence.'

‘I'm more worried about the limits on my ability to look the part, my lady. You think Rome is ready for a Psyche my height?' I stood.

She gave me a quick once-over. ‘In the right costumes they aren't going to care. Besides, you're horizontal in most of the scenes. Don't worry.' She thought I was trying to be constructive. ‘Everyone is going to lap up this drivel.'

Philemon managed to look even more deeply offended. ‘It is not drivel!'

We both ignored him.

‘Fine,' I said. ‘If that is what you want, my lady, I'll do it. But who's Cupid?'

Domitia gave a titillated smirk, and said, ‘Alexander.'

Oh he was going to love that.

On that note Domitia decided it was time Cupid himself got in on the rehearsal. She rang her ever-present bell and told Horace to send in Alexander. While we waited, she said, ‘Costumes will be fitted
tomorrow, after the next rehearsal. You have three scenes and three costume changes to make.'

Alexander arrived, anger nicely frozen into place this time. He ignored Domitia and Philemon, but gave me a challenging stare.

Philemon looked back at me. Then at Alexander again. Then said, ‘Yes, my lady, you're right — these two are perfectly matched.'

He was in for a surprise.

Philemon suggested we move to the end of the room where a couch, some chairs, and various props were set up. Philemon and Domitia sat in the chairs opposite the couch. Alexander and I just stood in front of them waiting for instruction.

Domitia checked the scroll over Philemon's shoulder, and barked, ‘Bellona, on the couch. Alexander, sit next to her.' She was obviously keen to play director.

Philemon decided it was time to wrestle back artistic control and jumped in to describe the scene for us, ‘Scene One is the first time Cupid sees Psyche. Cupid makes himself invisible and watches Psyche while she sleeps. He admires her and pities her, then touches her with his arrow. She awakes. Psyche accidentally pricks Cupid with his own arrow. He falls in love and steals a first kiss.'

I surrendered, lying back on the couch. But Alexander just stood there. From his expression, we wouldn't be exchanging method-acting tips. Stretching my hands behind my head I waited. Might as well be comfortable, the ball was in Cupid's court this scene.

Domitia bit out, ‘Sit on the couch with her.' She thought he was stupid. Which was just as well.

Alexander sat. Though perhaps not as fast as he could've. Once in place Philemon proceeded to fill him in on some of the details of his role.

While he sat there, supposedly listening, Alexander fingered the tip of the arrow that Philemon had given him earlier. I looked at the arrowhead, then back at his face. Some unfriendly emotion gleamed in his eye. It'd better not be related to anything he was going to do with that arrow.

Philemon read out Alexander's first set of lines, there weren't many, and then got him to repeat them. I didn't speak in this scene, so once Alexander seemed to have them memorised Philemon told him to act them out.

Alexander repeated his lines through ever so slightly clenched teeth. When he got to, ‘Oh fair Psyche, receive your fate', he jabbed me in the ribs with his arrow.

‘Ow! Be more careful with that thing,' I hissed.

In reply he gave me a blank face.

Following Philemon's directions, I pretended to wake, stretching and yawning as I sat upright on the couch. In doing this I bumped Alexander's arm and knocked the arrow straight down into his groin. A little more heavily than necessary.

He grunted sharply and jerked forward.

Philemon started making soft sobbing noises. When I slid my eyes over towards him he was hiding his face, helpless with laughter.

Domitia, meanwhile, was getting impatient with our clumsy amateur efforts. ‘Now kiss her, Alexander. You know how to do that, don't you?'

Alexander looked at me with open revulsion.

I hissed, ‘Don't touch anything.'

He raised a dark eyebrow.

Domitia barked, ‘Just do it!'

Alexander stared challengingly into my eyes as he kissed the air just in front of my lips. That was fine
with me, any closer and that arrow could end up piercing parts of him, rather than just jabbing them.

Domitia got up and started waving her arms. ‘Gods above! Put some feeling into it!'

That was enough — this was taking up too much time. I still had yet to decide whether I was going to stay here tonight or not. I grabbed the front of Alexander's tunic and jerked him forward onto my lips. He moved against me for a two-second clinch, then recoiled back like a steel spring.

‘Aagh!' Domitia rolled her eyes towards the doorway. ‘This was Gaius' idea. He should be here doing this!'

Philemon was amused. ‘Well it's going to be an interesting interpretation.' When he realised that Domitia was not taking his nonchalance so well he said, ‘Don't worry, my lady, I'll work with them again tomorrow. But really the crowd won't care that much. They're so striking together that they could just arm wrestle and it would still be applauded.'

Domitia seemed to be somewhat pacified by that thought. ‘You'd better be right, Philemon. Your neck's on the line with this too.' Then she turned back to us, hands on hips. ‘This is a first rehearsal. But if you two can't make a better effort tomorrow, then, Bellona — you're out on the street! And Alexander is going back to the arena in a cage! So put some feeling into it!'

Chastened, we managed to stumble through the next two scenes, but it wasn't going to win anyone an Oscar. In the second scene Psyche falls in love with Cupid. When I lifted the lamp it was supposed to reveal a glorious golden boy-god, but today I was looking down at a very bored Alexander lying on his back.

He must have looked fine from the side because Domitia was satisfied, but then she couldn't see his
expression. While I was trying to keep a straight face and gush about his beauty, Alexander looked as though he'd like to jab me again with the arrow.

Philemon just stroked his chin and said nothing, so we continued.

In the last scene Cupid wakes Psyche from her deathlike sleep with a kiss and offers her the cup of ambrosia which will make her immortal. Alexander was unarmed, fortunately there were no arrows in this scene, and I was back lying on the couch again with my eyes shut.

Next thing I knew there was a cup of wine splashing down the front of my dress. So I kicked him off the couch. We glowered at each other like a pair of wild animals. By now Philemon was laughing so hard he was holding his head between his hands.

Domitia, however, was furious. She got to her feet and shouted at Alexander, ‘For the gods' sake, you've fought in the arena — how difficult is this?'

From the barely hidden look of fury on his face, Alexander wasn't taking her demands too kindly. When he turned back to me he looked as though he planned to fight me, not kiss me.

I gave him a warning glare, then turned to argue with Domitia. ‘Couldn't we change the play? Or get someone else to play Cupid …?'

In that brief second he lunged towards me, pinning me in a kiss against the couch. I felt like I'd just been tackled over the goal line.

When I made it up for air, Philemon was grinning widely.

Domitia merely snorted in disgust, and ordered us to rehearse properly for another hour. If we didn't improve fast, she'd have all three of us whipped. She meant it. Then she left.

Horace arrived just as we were about to go through the play for what seemed like the hundredth time. He said the main dinner guest, a business acquaintance of Domitia's, wasn't due for another hour, but the mistress wanted me upstairs. Now. In full sergeant major mode Horace trotted me up the grand staircase to the top floor, then directed me through an ornate arch, which led directly onto the rear terrace.

Woowa. What a view! Rome was spread out before me, tinted gold and apricot in the summer dusk. The terrace had a clear line of sight from the Caelian Hill to the east, around to Augustus's house next door, and the Capitoline beyond. In the middle distance pinkish lights glimmered off the Tiber. The rich always take the top of the hill. That way they can look down on the rabble. That and see their enemies coming.

I was betting this pair had more than a few of those.

Domitia and Gaius were lounging on two richly upholstered couches at the very edge of the terrace, surrounded by elegantly carved tables laden with wine jars, goblets and trays of snack food. They were staring
over the railing, and as I moved towards them I understood why.

Below, the terraced gardens of the Crassus estate sloped down to meet the walls of a huge elongated stadium, ringed with step seating. It was a long rectangle with one of the short sides curved, and the other one straight. Along the middle was a single spine of gigantic statues and monuments: Neptune with his trident, a set of leaping dolphins, and even a towering Egyptian stone obelisk.

The central spine was pretty awe-inspiring, but the rest of the stadium looked like a demolition site. Huge concrete blocks and construction frames ringed the central arena, and ant-like lines of workmen were carrying more heavy planks of wood onto the site. The sound of hammering and grinding stone drifted up.

I sat down on the only other seat, an unpadded, spindly stool positioned meekly between the heads of Domitia's and Gaius' luxurious couches. My position was clear, I may sit but not be comfortable. Unfortunately, it also put me a little too close to their combined exhalations. Heavy clouds of wine, garlic, and some other pungent spice I couldn't identify wafted over me. It was a little hard to breathe.

Gaius unbent enough to actually address me, but slurred as he spoke, ‘Gladiatrix.' He aimed his too-full goblet towards the construction mess below, dripping wine over the tiled flooring. ‘It's impressive, isn't it?'

‘It doesn't look like any arena I've seen before.' The anatomically erect statue of the sea god in the middle, sure didn't fit with any of the rugby finals Des had dragged me to.

He gave me a patronising smirk. Wowing the little people was so satisfying. ‘The Circus Maximus is the largest, permanent entertainment venue in the world,'
he declared. ‘Seats two hundred thousand spectators plus.' He nodded at Domitia, ‘Very convenient being able to watch the best the Empire has to offer from your own balcony.' He took another deep slurp to celebrate.

Domitia ignored him to focus on the building work going on below. ‘Gaius, this is no good at all,' she tsked. ‘They have to get the whips out. And more slaves in. Augustus is being stingy, trying to cut costs again. They're too far behind schedule,' she complained. ‘It won't be ready in time.'

More garlic fumes wafted my way, but no-one offered me a drink. Nothing for the hired help.

‘Plautius says they're going to flood it the day after tomorrow,' Gaius replied tartly. There was a newly built aqueduct running into the stadium from the direction of the Tiber. Augustus was re-enacting a naval battle, but if they used that river's sewage-filled water, then fighting wasn't the only thing the combatants would have to survive.

‘What if it can't hold all that water?' Domitia knocked back another gulp of wine. ‘This wouldn't be the first time Augustus has skimped on materials.'

‘Then he'll be publicly shamed. And you will have the water frontage you always wanted.'

They both laughed hysterically at that, exuding enough fumes together to give me the start of a major headache. Yep, they were drunk.

When Domitia calmed down she ordered Gaius, ‘Tell her,' jerking her head in my direction.

‘Gladiatrix, look carefully at the Circus below,' enunciated Gaius pompously. He was such an arrogant little suckass I had to fight the desire to smack him. ‘If you're successful tomorrow, if you please us, you'll be fighting there in four days.'

That is what he thought! ‘Yes, sir,' I said submissively. ‘How wonderful. Two hundred thousand people watching me fight.' And screaming for my death.

‘Yes, it's a great opportunity.' He almost stroked himself for his generosity towards me.

Domitia expanded on his point. ‘The star performer in a sea battle in the centre of Rome, gladiatrix. It would guarantee your place in history. So see that you do your best tomorrow.'

They were both throwing back the wine with a great deal of enthusiasm and seemed very pleased with themselves, so now seemed a good time to try and pump them for information.

‘Yes, my lady. But I'm new to Rome. So if you want me to play the part properly, perhaps you may want to brief me.' They obviously didn't care what I thought so they might let slip some interesting details. ‘I need to know the difference between what will get you what you want. And what will just get me into trouble.'

That last tack caught Domitia's bleary attention. ‘Well, girl. What do you need to know? But be sharp about it.' After that terse comment she turned back to watch the workers below.

The best tactic would be to get them to open up. Then move round to questions about the Isiacs, and hopefully the Hierophant. If I could get them talking, maybe I could find the right buttons to push. ‘For starters I need to know more about Augustus. What he wants out of this. What you want from him and how far I can go to get it for you.' I knew self-interest would be a popular topic with this pair.

‘Augustus.' Domitia glanced over at her next-door neighbour's house, and her expression wasn't a pleasant one either. ‘That upstart,' she slurred. ‘He should be trying to please me!' She didn't seem to care
if I heard all this. Anyway, who could I tell? ‘He's nothing compared to the Crassus family. He got to the top on the back of his great-uncle Julius. And Julius Caesar only succeeded through the help of my great-uncle Marcus Crassus.'

‘Yes, Domitia. But you have to give him credit for a very nice use of family connections,' said Gaius, gleefully considering the finer points of political manipulation. ‘And timing. Who'd have thought that he could turn Caesar's assassination into the best thing that ever happened to the whole family?'

Domitia gave a spiteful laugh. ‘Wicked, but very true, Gaius. Turning Caesar into a martyr was the smartest move he and Mark Antony ever made.' They'd forgotten about me yet again, and were off in their own nasty little world of plots and power plays.

‘Yes.' Gaius chuckled in admiration. ‘Martyrs are always so useful to have in the family.' Domitia scowled at him so he said, ‘Yes, I know you hate him, Domitia, but you have to admire his technique.' He raised a cup in salute. ‘They burned Caesar's bloodied body in the middle of the Forum, weeping and wailing and tearing their clothes.' He laughed. ‘My father said it was pathetic.'

‘They were so distraught,' added Domitia dryly, ‘they went out with swords bared and massacred more than five hundred members of the political elite and their families in less than three days.'

‘Blood washes cleanest,' stated Gaius. ‘Gets rid of all your enemies in one generation.'

Then they smiled sweetly at each other as though they would have done the exact same thing.

They made my skin crawl.

‘And,' mused Gaius. ‘With no opposition left, they divided the Empire in three. Their ally Lepidus got
Africa, Mark Antony took the east and Augustus kept the west and control of Rome itself.'

‘They obviously needed a lot of space for their grieving process,' I chipped in. If I could get them to include me I could ask some questions.

They both looked at me in surprise. As though the dog had spoken. Then they both guffawed.

Gaius said airily, enjoying the sound of his own voice, ‘But of course everyone knew sooner or later, someone would make a grab for it all. And reclaim Caesar's place as dictator. And of course that was your neighbour.' He raised his cup to Domitia.

Domitia muttered, ‘Well he was smart enough to keep control of Rome, and so in the end he won.'

She was right, but I knew it had also been a close thing. Mark Antony, with Cleopatra backing him, had come close to winning. But that wouldn't have been a diplomatic interpretation to mention to these two.

Domitia, bored with watching the builders, was now peering a little short-sighted over the side wall and right into Augustus' backyard.

We had a great view of their garden. What there was of it. Just a few well-tended fruit trees set around a paved courtyard really. A well-dressed young woman holding the hand of a small child was strolling between the trees. Domitia watched them intensely for a moment, then when they looked up, showed all her teeth in what may have looked like a smile, as long as you were standing at a distance. When they didn't respond she starting waving as though she was calling for help. The woman inclined her head very slightly in acknowledgement.

Domitia said through her teeth, smile intact, ‘Yes, you'd better wave at me, Agrippina, you bitch.'

The woman and child immediately disappeared
back inside the house and Domitia dropped back onto her cushions, exhausted from the effort at friendliness. She bit out, ‘My neighbour likes to pretend he's a very moral, family man. When he is making speeches anyway.' Then she barked, ‘Because of his bloody family laws I have to remarry this year. Do my duty and produce new citizens! What am I? A cow to be led out to a bull?'

Gaius, uninterested by her ranting, didn't reply. He was busy choosing another snack from the display alongside him.

She focused on me instead and pointed to the temple next door. ‘You go over, and have a look at the statue of Apollo in the public library. You'll notice he looks a lot like our fearless leader himself. Interesting development for a humble citizen, isn't it? I'm sure Apollo always wanted to be likened to a tarted-up, fat, balding bureaucrat.'

‘Yes, but don't forget Apollo is his father,' said Gaius, full of sarcasm.

They roared with laughter.

Gaius leant into me to say snidely, ‘Apollo is supposed to have had sex with Augustus' mother while disguised as a snake.'

Bruno had mentioned something about the statue of Apollo resembling Augustus. ‘Isn't that sacrilege?' I asked. ‘How can he get away with it?'

‘Oh, he does this kind of thing all the time,' Gaius casually remarked. ‘Everyone in Rome knows about the private orgy Augustus gave during the Great Famine. Very bad timing on his part.' He sniggered. ‘The feast was outrageous enough but to make it worse, all the guests came dressed as gods and goddesses.'

Domitia added, ‘Augustus came as Apollo of course.'

I tried to look suitably shocked, but it was impossible to imagine either Domitia or Gaius cutting down on their menu just because other people were hungry.

‘Well he's in trouble now,' said Domitia. ‘No-one likes him any more for exiling his popular granddaughter. He's literally weeping blood and I love it. He loathes being shown up as the hypocrite that he is. He's getting just what he deserves for creating those fucking marriage laws.' She delicately picked at her manicured nails, and said in a smug little voice, ‘So much for keeping his relatives looking like the model first family.'

I gave Domitia a sharp look. Given what I'd heard a few hours ago in her front waiting room, why was she so very flippant about the latest Julia scandal? She didn't sound worried at all. Or was that a mask?

‘He was stupid enough to marry that hellion Livia, so what did he expect would happen?' sneered Gaius. He leant into me again, so I moved back as far as I could. He didn't even notice. ‘Livia was married and heavily pregnant when they started their affair, but Augustus forced her husband to divorce her anyway. But little good it did him,' he said with waspish glee. ‘Once she had that baby Livia never managed to give him any children of his own.'

‘So Augustus had to focus on Julia the Elder. His only child by his first wife,' I said, trying to wedge my way back into the conversation. ‘At least she could provide him with grandsons.'

Gaius nodded. ‘And of course Livia and Julia became bitter rivals. Tearing the family, and finally Rome, apart. It was Livia, after all, who made sure that Augustus was publicly presented with evidence of Julia's sexual adventures.'

Bruno hadn't mentioned Livia's part in all this.

‘Augustus was so furious, we could hear the screaming all the way across the fence,' Gaius cackled. ‘He had to charge his own daughter with sexual misconduct under the laws he'd just promulgated.'

The hypocrisy of this spiteful, little tirade was a bit much, but Gaius was off and running again before I could try and get him onto something more useful.

‘What did Antonia say about this?' Gaius scanned Domitia's face with curiosity. She'd been far too quiet while he raved about Augustus' family problems.

When Domitia didn't respond Gaius prompted her, ‘Didn't Antonia say that it was all true and more?'

‘Hmm. Yes.' She seemed particularly bored with the topic.

‘Particularly the bit about the Rostra?'

Her face was unreadable, but she nodded.

Gaius, not picking up on his partner's signals, slapped his thigh with glee. ‘So Julia the Elder did it on the podium in the middle of the Forum? What a slut. His own daughter fucked in the same spot where Augustus had stood to read out the new laws on public morality?'