Other Alexander, The (19 page)
“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 naïve.” 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.
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.
Censor, Propraetor and proconsul Crassus, through generosity, popularity and the political lubricant of gold judiciously distributed, controlled much of the senate; save a triumph of his own, there was no honor or office left for him to garner. He had become one of the most influential men in Rome, and certainly the richest. So wealthy was he, in fact, that the people bestowed upon him his fourth agnomen; he was now known throughout the land as Marcus Licinius Crassus Dives, Crassus the Rich.
“Word has already spread,” I replied. “They know you’re back for the season. Half the town was up and waiting for us.”
“How many loaves?”
“Fifty. The crowd was well-ordered and respectful, but the bread vanished as if by magic. Our workmen were only able to snare about half before the cart was emptied of everything but crumbs.”
“How many went empty-handed?”
“I would say one hundred.”
“Tell the kitchen to bake two hundred loaves for tomorrow.”
“The bakers’ knuckles are already deep in enough dough for three hundred loaves,
dominus
.”
“I don’t like it when you do that,” he said, his tone unreadable.
“If my lord will elaborate on the nature of ‘that,’ I shall see to it that ‘that’ never happens again.”
“Impertinence is unbecoming in a man of your station, let alone your age.” He sighed. “I suppose I must thank you for attending to the little things that maintain my popularity.”
“In that I have had an excellent tutor.”
Crassus waved a hand in the direction of the only available open space on the table. “Put it there.” I was carrying sliced melon on a golden tray, which I set down where he indicated. “I should like,” he continued, his attention focused on a letter, “to be able to at least cling to the illusion that I am running this household.”
Another ‘Crassus compliment.’ He seemed to sense that no matter how high he raised me up, there was only one advancement that held meaning for me. I sagged with the knowledge that the more I earned it, the less chance there was that it would ever be forthcoming. I had been in service to the house of Crassus for twenty-four years, five years more than my age when I was taken.
Work followed Crassus like a puppy. Scrolls and documents covered the waist-high table. We were in the rear
tablinum
, the one used as an office, not the larger one where the senator received the daily stream of needy clients who apparently took no holidays, their palms raised in petrified extension. These were the armies of well-wishing men to whom Crassus was patron and on whose votes and favors he counted. They followed him everywhere. The heavy rust-colored drapes were drawn aside so that from his writing table he could look one way into the garden of the atrium and the other out across the northwest terrace to the blue of the bay. His brown tunic was trimmed in gold but he wore no other adornment.
“What in Jupiter’s name is that?”
“Melon,
dominus
. Honey melon.”
“Not the melon. The tray.”
“My lady bought it yesterday at the market. In Puteoli.”
Crassus reached over and hefted it with both hands. “It’s solid gold. How much did she pay for it?”
“Two thousand
sesterces
.”
Crassus shook his head and smiled. “I begrudge her nothing, of course.”
“It is good to know one’s value,” I said, unable to hold my tongue. I ran a finger along the dully gleaming rim. “It appears this charger and I have equal worth.”
“Tut, Alexander, you are worth that a hundred times over.” He meant it as a compliment. And to underscore the point he added, “Besides, my wife is no bargain hunter. She overpaid by half.”
I’m one of the luckiest, I reminded myself, changing the subject. “I see you’ve received a letter from Lucius Calpurnius Piso.”
“As a matter of fact I have. How did you know that? Have you been spying on me?”
“Spying would be pointless,
dominus
. What could I learn that you are unwilling to confide?” He agreed by nodding and raising his graying eyebrows. “The runner came from Herculaneum. Piso retires to his villa there for the season. More telling, when I entered you were wearing that grin peculiar to his correspondence.”
“And what grin is that?”
“The one you exhibit when you are about to burst out laughing.”
“His words do tickle, true enough. He mentions you, you know.” I girded myself. “Yes, right here, he says, ‘Don’t pay too much attention to that Greek of yours. Absorb too much of his philosophy and your brain will become soggy and spoil. You’ll have to purchase a new one in the market.’”
“Should you write him, tell Piso from me that his love of Epicurus blinds him to other disciplines, like science and the search for truth.”
“You can tell him yourself. They’re coming to dinner next week.”
“Are they bringing Calpurnia? What a lovely child, so poised and graceful for a thirteen year-old.”
“Am I interrupting?” The man who had crossed the atrium and now stood in the archway was slight of build, of average height, with sharp, hawk-like features. His crisp, white tunic was long-sleeved, fringed and loosely belted; in other words, quite eccentric. Not only his face, but what was visible of his chest, arms and legs was hairless.
“There you are, Gaius! Of course you’re not interrupting. Sit, sit. I trust it was not our engineers that roused you at this hour?”
“I slept as soundly as if Cato himself knelt by my bedside to whisper sweet and endless orations in my ear.”
“That
is
a good night’s sleep.”
“I have never understood the need of it. As far as I can fathom, it serves no useful purpose, save to give the wakeful advantage. Two or three hours is all any active man should require.”
“Our wives must disagree, since I have seen neither of them this morning. Please sit. That’s better. Well, my young friend, we’ve come a long way from Apulia, haven’t we?
“I had no idea you were aware I fought under your command against Spartacus.”
“I wasn’t. But Alexander here did a little research and pointed out your name in the rolls. Come, tell me the news. And no politics. Let’s have nothing to disturb our bucolic
otium
, aside from the unfortunate construction. We’ll be forced to shun the gardens and picnic in the country today. How is your family? How fares your niece? I understand she had some difficulty last year with her pregnancy.”
“Atia has recovered fully, thank you for asking. Octavian will be a year old come September.”
“Splendid. Alexander, bring our guest some melon.”
“Just water.”
When I returned with a pitcher and goblets, Crassus was saying, “I didn’t realize you were a man of such piety.” The remark was rich with sarcasm. I poured the water and receded to my place in the shadows to study this most recent of my master’s friends. Gaius Julius Caesar was in his late thirties, but he sat with an easy elegance as if on a throne, as if nothing he desired could stand against the sheer force of his will to acquire or achieve it. Ambition. You could see it leaking from every pore of his body, but no place more than his eyes. Ambition, and pride, and arrogance. He had the look of a soldier, but a man could rarely be considered great in Rome if he did not have a taste for blood. I had heard him speak on the
rostra
several years before. He claimed his bloodline to be descended not only from kings, but from the gods themselves!
What did Crassus see in him? What need of him did he have? Surely it was not a friendship based solely on amity. He set my nerves on edge, and I admit I was frightened by him. In the end, I suppose I should have been more afraid of the love of a husband for his wife, and the misguided lengths to which it would drive him.
“To serve the people,” Caesar was saying, “they must elect me. To elect me, they must love me. To love me, they must see how the gods favor me. Who is more favored by the gods than the
pontifex maximus
?”
“Your logic is appalling. I shall have to hire out Alexander here as your tutor.”
Athena forefend
. “What the people love are the bribes you spread to secure the election. How else could you have won without a single grey hair on your head? You must be broke.”
“Not as destitute after the election as I am now.” Crassus cocked an eyebrow. “You know the hill above the old naval base at Misenum?”
“The tip of the cape with the fabulous view of the bay.”
“That’s the place.”
“It’s lovely. Tertulla and I sometimes go there for a stroll. We could venture there today, if you like.”
“I bought it.”
Crassus barked a short laugh. “You’re insane! Who did you borrow the money from? You didn’t come to me.”
“I expect I will. Eventually. My creditors have nothing to fear. When I earn a command, the spoils of conquest will repay all with interest. I’m thinking Hispania Ulterior.”
“So you’ll be standing for
praetor
.”
“No army, no glory. No glory, no gold. But I’ll need your support. Can I count on you when the time comes later this year?”
“Of course. Providing, as you plow your way up the
cursus honorum
, you clear an equally unobstructed path for my own interests as they arise.”
“Naturally. And you know, I’ve been thinking. As wet a sponge as Hispania may be, from what untapped source do you think the most treasure may be wrung to lay at a grateful Rome’s feet?”
“Gaul? Britannia? Egypt?”
“Parthia.”
“Parthia? Sulla once spoke to me of that wasteland of barbarism. There must be easier coffers to empty closer to home.”
Caesar shook his head. “Not a wasteland, Marcus, but a richly paved road. Think of it: Rome’s borders reaching to the Indus, perhaps beyond. What a triumph! No door would remain closed to us, no glory withheld, no honor denied to such a man as could deliver the opulence of the East. Where Alexander failed, we could succeed!”
“I admire your spirit, Gaius, but shall credit such brashness to youthful temerity. The world is already ours; have patience and enjoy what you have, or at least what you’ve borrowed. Besides, the senate would never countenance such folly.”
“I’m no fool, Marcus. A good stew needs simmering. I’ll be able to stand for consul in three years; that should lend substantial gravitas when I propose the expedition after my term expires.”
Crassus snorted and shook his head, smiling. “Already won the post, have you?”
Caesar continued as if
dominus
had not spoken. “Even then I doubt the senate will issue enough gold to finance the entire campaign. We’ll need additional resources, which is where you’ll come in. But I’m in no hurry. Let’s just keep it in mind, you and I.”
Crassus was about to say more when an explosion thudded through the morning air followed by a commotion of shouts from outside. We all rushed to the balcony to look down across the five terraced gardens that framed the slopes of the villa to where a jet of water arced up in a decidedly unintentional fountain.
“I’d better see to this,” Crassus said. Caesar offered to accompany him, but my master wouldn’t hear of it. “Nonsense. Stay here. Have breakfast. We’re on holiday. I won’t be long – I just want to make sure no one is hurt. I’ll take Mercurius with me. If he’s not off napping somewhere. Alexander, see to our guest’s comfort. Bring him anything he desires.”
Crassus left to check on the disturbance, and fearful for the privacy of my master’s office, I suggested to Caesar he might be more comfortable in the
triclinium
. He grinned briefly and without humor, but allowed me to guide him. As I was getting him resettled in the dining room, propping pillows behind his back and exchanging his footwear for dining slippers, Tertulla found us. Her black curls were festooned with yellow ribbons. They matched the color of her tunic, whose sleeves fell just to her elbows. Each of her forearms was adorned with golden bracelets, some studded with rubies, others with sapphires. Over her tunic, she had draped a long
stola
the color of daisy petals.