“We have to visit the Temple today,” Novia said. “I have to make a sacrifice to Juno.”
“Why, Juno, Novia?” Novia fell silent. She wasn’t sure she was ready to share her news with Cassia yet. “Novia, did you hear me?”
“Yes Cassia, I heard you. I,…well, Flavius and I have decided to marry.”
Cassia stopped walking. She turned to Novia and threw her arms around her neck.
“Oh, Novia, I’m so happy for you.”
Novia blushed. “We’ve saved enough money and…we’re moving out of Rome. Flavius wants to grow grapes and make wine.”
“But, you’re too old. How will you survive? Where will you live?”
“We’re going north, to Florentia. And there’s still life enough left in us, thank you.” Novia looked down her nose at Cassia.
Cassia’s spirits fell. She’d never been without Novia or Flavius, and she couldn’t imagine her life without them.
“When are you leaving?” she asked quietly.
“After the Saturnalia festival; Flavius is approaching your father tonight. That’s why I have to make a sacrifice.”
After Novia made her offering to Juno, the two women slowly walked home. Cassia was thinking that the festival would come too soon.
As Cassia was mourning the loss of her lifelong companions, her father was waiting for his cousin Cletus at a seedy tavern Cletes frequented. He was desperate to find a nobleman willing to marry his daughter, and Cletes, as a moneylender’s henchman, would surely know of a poor, desperate aristocrat, hopefully one who wasn’t aware of “the curse.”
Quintus Seeks a Nobleman
The tavern was in a bad part of the city, a part of Rome Quintus would’ve just as soon forgotten existed. Quintus was growing impatient. He would give Cletus one more hour, and then he’d go home.
Quintus could see a group of men throwing dice in the back of the tavern. He knew that many of them were in debt to Cletus’ employer, Leonides. He watched the young men throw the dice again and again. It didn’t occur to him that the men in this place, noble or not, were of the same bad character as Cicero Gaius, else why would they be in this place? Quintus’ blind spot with regard to the aristocrats of Rome continued to amaze Flavius, who had tried to discourage him from consulting Cletus. But Quintus was growing desperate. Cassia was fifteen now and getting older every day. He had to find someone soon, or he would never break bread with a patrician.
Cletus was Quintus’ cousin from his mother’s side of the family. He was a dirty man who seldom bathed and never brushed his teeth. He reeked of an odor so foul that when he confronted his employer’s debtors, they would promise him anything to keep him at a distance. They all feared his smell was contagious.
Leonides was a low-level moneylender who preyed on the tavern’s gamblers. Cletus worked cheap, and Leonides always got paid with very little trouble. Every morning, Cletus would go to the tavern to meet Leonides. Leonides, a mask protecting his nose from Cletus’ rank odor, would tell him who owed money and how much, and dispatch Cletus to do his worst. At the end of the day, they would meet again and Cletus always had a pouch full of money.
Today Cletus had been sent to another part of town. A young aristocrat hadn’t paid, so Cletus was visiting his father. The patriarchs of these noble families would pay quickly to get Cletus out of their courtyards. The aristocrat’s father had paid, and Cletus stopped at the tavern on his way home.
He saw Quintus sitting at a table drinking cerevisia, a sort of beer. He look worried, which warmed Cletus’ heart. He hated his cousin, who he felt had too high an opinion of himself and looked down on the rest of the family. He’d looked for ways to really hurt Quintus, but so far had been unsuccessful. He wondered what would bring Quintus here, so far from the Vicus Raciliani Maioris. Cletus approached the table and greeted his cousin. Quintus could smell Cletus before he saw him.
“Ah, Quintus, it’s good to see, you, cousin.” Cletus sat opposite Quintus and Quintus eyes began to water. He had brought a handkerchief with him and held it to his nose.
“It’s good to see you, too, Cletus,” Quintus lied.
“Now, I know you didn’t come here for the cerevisia. So, what are you doing here, cousin?” Cletus had the look of the wolf about him as he stared at Quintus. His eyes were drawn together and his nose was long.
“I’ve come to ask you for information. I…know your employer has…clients with aristocratic connections. Is there one perhaps who might be inclined to cover his debts with a dowry?”
“They all know about the curse, Quintus,” Cletus said, a wicked smile on his face.
“Cassia is not cursed. That’s a vicious lie,” Quintus yelled. He looked around and then continued. “I need a man, Cletus, a man who needs money, an older man with children who is not so particular with regard to her lineage.”
Cletus laughed loudly. “No, no, Quintus. I deal with stupid youths who are bad gamblers. You want their fathers, the ones I usually collect from. Besides, it would be hard to get around that curse. It’s well known that you’re a status-seeking merchant. Oh, yes, they all know about you.” Cletus let his words sink in. He enjoyed watching Quintus’ face lose its color.
“All I’ve ever tried to do was make things better for Cassia.”
“Don’t give me that nonsense. You want it for yourself, and you’re willing to use her to get it.” Cletus face turned hard. “You come back here in three days with a pouch full of gold and we’ll talk. A girl with a curse will cost you dearly.” Cletus got up and walked away.
Quintus sat at the table, wringing his hands. He could see his dream slipping away again. His coming to Cletus meant he had grown desperate, but still not desperate enough to promise Cassia to another Cicero Gaius.
The back room was filled with young men in fine togas and tunics, young men who needed an heir. But if there were a young man without a father who needed money desperately, he might not be so concerned about an heir.
Quintus watched Cletus as he cornered a slender young man in the back of the tavern. The young man was covering his nose from Cletus’ smell. He was very handsome, with black shoulder-length hair. His tunic was linen with green embroidery. Quintus got up and approached Cletus.
“Cletus,” he said, “why are you being so hard on this young man?”
“Because this young man owes Leonides a great deal of money, and his father has refused to pay.”
Damn, Quintus thought, he has a father.
“You don’t want this one, Quintus. He’s the eldest, and his father is very much alive.”
The young man’s name was Darius. He kept turning his head away from Cletus, trying to avoid his odor.
“Perhaps Cletus is right; you wouldn’t be interested in my proposition.”
“Your father refuses to pay, Darius. You know what we do with men who fail to pay. Leonides would like to make an example of you. It’s not often we get a chance to drown a noble,” Cletus said. He pushed Darius to the floor and walked away.
Darius looked at Quintus. Quintus saw a young man who might be desperate enough to defy his father. But by the same token, his father would probably cut him off, leaving Quintus with a worthless son-in-law. He put out his hand and helped Darius up.
“You’re looking for a nobleman?” Darius asked.
“No, I’m sorry, son, but I need an older man, one with children, not one looking for an heir.” Quintus began to walk away. Darius grabbed his arm.
“What’s your name?” Darius asked.
“Quintus; I’m a merchant. I’ve done well importing goods from the East. I want my daughter to marry a nobleman, and while I’m sure she would find you very attractive, a marriage between you would not produce a viable heir.”
“There’s a dowry, I assume.” Darius said.
“Oh yes, a large dowry, but it doesn’t change the fact that you cannot marry my daughter. You’re the eldest son. If your father disinherited you, then all would be for naught.”
“But there’s a curse
on your daughter, Quintus.” Darius’ eyes focused on Quintus. He was trying to find a way to marry Quintus’ daughter and still keep his title. Quintus turned his head away from Darius’ gaze. “You’ll never find a man old or young who hasn’t heard of Cicero Gaius and Cassia.”
The two men returned to Quintus’ table and sat down. They sat looking at the table for several minutes, trying find some way to make a marriage happen that would benefit all involved.
“Leonides has threatened to kill me if I don’t pay. My father refuses to cover my debts.” Darius was slapping the table with his hands. “How much money are we talking about, Quintus?”
“More than enough to cover your debts, I assure you. Perhaps your father could be persuaded…”
“He’s very rich, Quintus, he doesn’t need any money.”
“Well, I can think of no way to make this work, son. I wish you luck with Leonides.” Quintus got up from the table and headed for the door, with Darius close at his heels.
“Meet me here in one week,” Darius said. “Maybe I can persuade my father. He might be pleased to have someone else cover my debts for a change.” He smiled weakly and Quintus nodded. They were headed in opposite directions, so they bade each other good night, promising to meet at the tavern in one week’s time.
Quintus had little faith that Darius would persuade his father to accept Cassia as a daughter-in-law, and his heart was heavy. The curse had done its work and left Quintus with little choice. If Darius was unable to persuade his father, then Quintus would finally resign himself to allowing Cassia to marry a commoner.
Schuylerville, New York
Darius got into the red BMW he kept at the mansion for days when he wanted his privacy. The gas tank was full and Manuel had maintained it well. The meeting was at three, but he’d promised to meet Jim at a café for a late lunch.
The driveway to the mansion was long and came out at the top of a hill. Darius always turned right because he couldn’t see who might be coming up the hill. Then he’d make a U-turn at the next-door neighbor’s driveway.
The mansion was in a small town north of Kingston named Schuylerville. This November had been relatively warm compared to past winters, so with the exception of some dead leaves, the roads were clear. He gunned the BMW and sped down the twisting mountain road heading downtown.
Jim was waiting in the parking lot when Darius pulled in. He hadn’t seen Darius’ new face, but he knew the BMW. As Darius stepped out of the car, Jim smiled. He was an older man, around seventy, with long gray hair. He had been a hard drinker in his early days, and even now it showed on his face. The skin around his eyes was deeply grooved as was the skin around his mouth.
Jim was a member of both AA and GA. He had stopped drinking two years before he stopped gambling, in 1958. He’d been in the program four years when he met Darius the first time and became his sponsor. Darius walked over to Jim and put out his hand.
“Damn, you look good, Darius,” Jim said. “How old are you this time?”
“I’m 35, but I feel older. Let’s sit down before we talk.”
The two men walked into the café and saw Rita serving a couple in a booth. She saw Jim and smiled, indicating a booth toward the back. He nodded and they headed that way. When they were seated, Rita brought their menus.
“Hi, Jim,” she said and smiled. He smiled back. “You fellas need some time?”
“I know what I want, Rita,” Jim said.
“Me, too,” Darius said. She took their order and left. “When are you gonna marry her?”
“Not interested in marriage. Tried it once and it didn’t take. I’m fine the way I am,” Jim replied. “So, what happened?”
Darius always dreaded telling Jim why he’d died and had to be reborn. It was always his fault, and he felt like such a coward.
“She called and I didn’t go,” he said.
“Why the hell not? Darius, have you ever told anybody else why you keep doing this?”
Darius shook his head.
“Not even Cassia?”
“No, no one.”
“Well, you might as well tell me what happened this time.”
“I was a professor, again, and she was a student. She gets depressed, you know, really down. That seems to be her trigger. She called me and told me it was time, that she’d taken some pills. I was with someone and didn’t go. End of story.”
“That’s always the end of the story,” Jim said. He was getting angry. “You can’t keep doing this, Darius. It’s not fair to the others, especially that little girl.”
“I know, I know, but there’s something different this time.”
Darius didn’t speak.
“Well, what’s different?” Jim asked.
“I can’t remember what made me so afraid.”
Jim looked at Darius. He knew what had made him so afraid, and as a friend he should probably tell him. But, if he didn’t, maybe Darius wouldn’t be afraid to save his daughter the next time she called.
“I told you once, didn’t I, Jim?”
“It was a long time ago. I only remember parts of it. Why don’t we let sleeping dogs lie?”
Rita brought their food and winked at Jim. He smiled sheepishly and dug into his food.
Darius ate slowly. Since he had woken up in the ER over a week ago, he hadn’t been feeling very well. Sex with Cassia had only made him feel worse. He had chest pains on an off several times a day.
“I woke up in a hospital. The doctor told me I had a cardiac episode. He told me to give up cigarettes.”
“Jeez, you’re only 35. I’d take his advice if I were you.”
“I have a kid, Jim. For some reason, the paperwork I got doesn’t have a name, but I think I know who it is.”
Jim thought about it for a while, and then he nodded.
“Yup, I bet you’re right. She didn’t come to the mansion?”
“No, which makes sense if she’s somebody’s kid. I haven’t told Cass or Amatus about it yet. I think Janus knows, but he’s not talking either. He and Morta have something up their sleeves.”
“How bad is your memory?” Jim asked.
“I remember being on the island and…”
“Yeah, well, we don’t have to go into that. But nothing after that?”
“I do remember some of my lives, but not much. They must have messed with our memories this time.”
“Can they do that?”
“What else could it be? And, I honestly don’t remember why I was so afraid.”
“So, you tried to book a flight to Vegas last night, huh?”
“I got pissed off. I knew something was up with Morta and Cassia, and they wouldn’t let me stay while they talked. Gambling always makes me feel better.”
“And if you’d been able to book a flight, would you have called me?”
“No, and that’s the truth.”
“Well, the truth is the best. But do you see how vulnerable you are? We can’t let our guard down, Darius. We have to remember who we are, as hard as that is sometimes.”
“Who am I, Jim? My name is Ian McAllister this time. Last time I was Charles Davis. So tell me, who am I?”
“You’re a guy who always gets a second chance not to screw up. That’s more than most guys could say. Take advantage of having a clean slate.”
Darius finished his lunch and reached for his cigarettes.
“I’m going outside,” he said, and threw a ten dollar bill on the table. Jim watched in dismay as he walked outside and lit up.
Jim picked up the ten and left Rita a five. He paid the check and joined Darius.
“Do you want to drive there together?” Jim said. Darius nodded and sucked in some smoke before crushing the butt on the ground, then they got into the BMW and headed for the meeting.
A Fashionable District of Rome
Darius walked into the palatial townhouse owned by his father, Pius. He could see his brother, Anthony, lounging on a couch with the daughter of Senator Cassius. She was not
particularly beautiful, not even attractive really, but she had the right pedigree.
Anthony was a good-looking boy of seventeen. He was already taller than Darius, who, at twenty-three, stood only 5’6”. Anthony had begun his military training, and he and Darius often sparred with their swords. Anthony won every time. Anthony was large in every way. He was almost six feet tall, unusual for a Roman. With his broad chest and his wide arms, he would serve the military well. By the time he was 21, he would be massive.
Darius was slender and muscular. He wasn’t as strong as Anthony, and would often find himself pinned to the floor during their wrestling matches.
Darius walked over to the other couch and sat down. Anthony smiled at him as he fed the girl some grapes.
“Darius, this lovely creature is Justina. She dined with us this evening with her father and mother. Father was disappointed you weren’t there. He had planned to introduce you to the lovely Justina.”
“This is Darius!” Justina exclaimed.
“Yes, my pet, this is Darius,” Anthony replied.
Justina got off the couch and ran over to Darius. She sat on the couch and drew close to him. Anthony watched his brother’s discomfort with amusement.
“You are quite handsome, Darius. Why did you stay away so long?” Justina asked.
“I was at a tavern.” Darius said. “I’d lost all my money, and the moneylender’s henchman was threatening to kill me.”
“How exciting!” Justina exclaimed as she took Darius’ arm. “How did you get away from him?”
“A merchant rescued me. Now, brother, where’s father?”
“He’s in the dining hall with Cassius. I don’t think you should show your face just yet.”
As Anthony lay on his side eating grapes, Darius left the couch and walked through the atrium towards his room without realizing Justina had followed him.
When he reached his bed, Darius turned and saw her standing behind him. She put her arms around his neck and kissed him. He gently released her arms from his neck and walked her to the door.
“There’ll be plenty of time for that later. Why don’t you go sit with Anthony?”
Pello Island: Cassia Page 7
