Pello Island: Cassia

by Jambor, A. L.

  “Why don’t we just take care of our business, Leonides?” Anthony was never one to beat around the bush.

  “Money talk before breakfast is so rude, don’t you think, Darius?” Leonides smiled slyly. He had a long face, and Darius thought he looked a little like a donkey.

  “What do I owe you, Leonides?”

  “Oh, very well - 2,000 denarii.”

  Leonides wiped his mouth. He pushed himself away from the table and observed the brothers. They were so unalike one would never assume they were related. Leonides wondered at Anthony’s generosity and what had persuaded him to pay off his brother’s debt.

  Anthony opened his pouch and counted out the sum. He pushed it over to Leonides and stood up, knocking his helmet to the ground. He grabbed Leonides’ tunic and pulled him to his feet.

  “If you ever lend to my brother again, I will have you crucified. Do we understand each other?”

  Leonides wasn’t used to being manhandled, at least not this way. He nodded his head.

  “I’ll have spies in Rome watching you, you slimy snake. One word and it will be done. Don’t doubt it for one minute.”

  Anthony shoved Leonides back in his chair, mussing his perfect coif. Leonides took his hands and smoothed his hair back in place; he then looked at Darius.

  “You heard your brother, Darius. There will be no more milk from this cow. I’ll inform Cletus accordingly.”

  Suddenly, Darius felt anxious. He hadn’t thought about what would happen after Anthony paid off Leonides. His only source of income was his allowance, and if he found himself at the tavern, it wouldn’t last more than a day. What would he do for money?

  He understood that Anthony was trying to force him to stop the dice. He wanted to appreciate the love his brother had for him, but his anxiety was growing and he wanted to beg him to take back what he’d said. He held his arms to his side to keep from shaking and his mind raced, trying to find some way around Anthony’s edict.

  “Come on, Darius. We have one more stop.”

  As Anthony walked away from the table, Darius looked at Leonides, who just smiled. He loved seeing Darius’ discomfort. Darius then followed Anthony, who was headed in the direction of the Vicus Raciliani Maioris.

  “Where are we going, Anthony?”

  “We have to see your good friend, Quintus, to tell him the wedding is off.”

  “Anthony, I think I should do that myself,” Darius said.

  Anthony smiled his big smile. “Don’t worry, big brother, I have no designs on your girl. Besides, everyone knows about the curse.” Anthony waited for Darius’ reaction before breaking out in a big laugh. Darius smiled and punched Anthony’s arm.

  “Curse, what rubbish. She’s an angel.”

  “Then maybe I should go alone to tell Quintus the news. You may lose your nerve.”

  “No, I’m going to tell him. It has to be done.”

  It took a while to reach Quintus’ shop and when they arrived, the sun was high in the sky. Flavius was filling the shelves with new goods and nodded when he saw Darius. Darius knew Flavius didn’t approve of him.

  “Is Quintus here today, Flavius?” he asked.

  “Yes, he’s here. He’s inside.”

  Darius walked toward the back of the shop with Anthony following close behind. Flavius watched as the two brothers walked by. Anthony was big and in his uniform, he was impressive. Flavius wondered what was afoot.

  They could see Quintus at the dining table as they entered the atrium. Anthony was struck by the richness of the furniture. This was no ordinary merchant. Quintus rose from his couch and kissed Darius on both cheeks. He smiled broadly and inclined his head toward Anthony.

  “This is my brother, Anthony.” Darius said.

  Quintus was overjoyed. Darius had brought a family member to meet him, a very good sign indeed. He sat down and the brothers followed suit. There was plenty of food on the table, and he told Darius and Anthony to eat.

  “So, you’ve come to see me and brought your brother.” Quintus couldn’t stop smiling.

  “Yes, he’s going to Germania and we’re spending some time together.” Darius was stalling. He didn’t know how to begin, and he was afraid Cassia would appear. If he saw her, he knew he wouldn’t go through with it.

  “Germania! Why, you are a brave man indeed.” Quintus said to Anthony.

  “It’s my duty to serve. I’m going to beat back the barbarian hordes.”

  Darius smiled at his brother’s boast. It was the second time he had heard him mention the barbarian hordes in the last 24 hours.

  “Well then, have some wine. It will strengthen you against the Hun.” Quintus clapped and a servant brought wine and filled Anthony’s glass. Anthony drank it down in one gulp, and then he looked at Darius with raised eyebrows.

  “Quintus, I have to speak with you,” Darius began. “My brother has paid off my debt to Leonides. I no longer have a need for money.” Darius was skirting the subject.

  “Well, that’s admirable, helping your brother that way.” As the truth dawned on Quintus, his smile began to fade. “What are you saying, Darius?”

  “I’m saying I no longer need to…to marry Cassia.” Darius kept his eyes on the table. He didn’t want to look at Quintus. Anthony was watching Quintus, whose face revealed nothing.

  “I’m grateful you came to see me personally and didn’t send a servant. Well, I guess that’s it then,” Quintus said as he stood up. “I’ll let Cassia know there will be no marriage.”

  Darius was amazed at Quintus’ reaction. He thought there would be shouting and fighting. Anthony kept looking at Quintus. He saw the subtle twitching of Quintus’ cheeks and sensed the older man was quite angry. He also knew that Darius didn’t see it. He finished his bread and stood up.

  “Well then, our business here is done. We’ll leave you in peace. I love your house, by the way.” Anthony smiled and saluted Quintus. He took Darius’ arm, pulled him out of the chair, and dragged him onto the street before the girl could be seen.

  Darius was silent as they walked home. He felt an ache inside that he couldn’t endure. He’d only felt it once before, when Amara left him. But he was eighteen then, just a boy. Surely it wasn’t the same thing?

  When they got back to the townhouse, their mother was sitting in the atrium. She nodded to Darius, who was headed for a bath. Anthony took off his helmet and armor, and joined his mother. He lay down on a couch and stretched. He was still tired from the night’s festivities, and he almost dozed off.

  “I assume you’ve handled things, Anthony,” Valeria said.

  “As you wished, Mother, he is none the wiser,” Anthony replied. “And I really loved that merchant’s house.”

  Quintus and Flavius

  Quintus was furious. Flavius stood in the atrium watching him hurl plants across the pool in the center of the atrium. Flavius had heard Quintus screaming from the shop and thought he’d been hurt. When he saw the brothers practically running away, his first thoughts were of Cassia, but then he heard Quintus’ inhuman ranting.

  “Bastard sons-of-bitches, that’s what they are! NOBILITY! HA! They suckled at the teats of a jackal, both of them!”

  Quintus continued to hurl foliage across the tiled floors. Flavius approached him and gently tapped Quintus’ arm. Quintus turned, and seeing Flavius, began to cry.

  “Flavius, it’s not Cassia who is cursed, but I. The gods have spit on me and now, now there is no hope. Why have they done this to me?”

  “Lie down and let me get you some wine.”

  Flavius led Quintus to the couch by the far wall. Once Quintus was seated, Flavius summoned a servant to bring some wine. The servant dutifully appeared with a cup and bottle. Flavius handed the wine to Quintus and waited for him to drink. Quintus’ eyes strayed to the spot on the floor where Agatha had died.

  “She died there, Flavius. Agatha died right over there. I should’ve left this house long ago.”

  Quintus began to cry harder. “I didn’t
mean to kill her, Flavius. I was just so…angry. That awful scene at Cicero Gaius’, and Cassia, oh my gods, I almost sold her to that, that evil lump of human shit. What kind of man am I, Flavius?” Quintus drained his cup and held it out to Flavius for more.

  “I have chased a dream I could never catch and my daughter, the sweetest child in the world, would have paid the price. I almost did it again! How do I tell her about this, Flavius? She loves this one; I can see it in her eyes.” Again, Quintus drained his cup. “I want to kill him, Flavius, for what he’s done to her.”

  “You can’t kill nobility, Quintus, and besides, he hasn’t really done anything to her.”

  Flavius kept filling Quintus’ cup. Quintus was getting quite drunk.

  “Please have them prepare my bath, Flavius.” Quintus said as he rose from the couch. He looked into Flavius’ eyes. “Would you tell her, Flavius?”

  Quintus stood there, looking pathetic. How many times had Quintus asked him to clean up his messes? Flavius just nodded. He knew there was no use declining the request. Quintus smiled and patted Flavius’ shoulder, and then walked to his room to disrobe.

  Flavius asked one of the servants to prepare a bath and then went back to the shop. Cassia and Novia would be back from the market shortly, and Flavius steeled himself for the trial that lay ahead. He knew Cassia was totally enamored of Darius, and she would not take this news well. But Flavius owed Quintus, and he had always taken care of Quintus’ women.

  Flavius had met Quintus 20 years earlier, when Quintus had been a cart merchant and had traveled all over Italy. Flavius was a soldier and had suffered a wound that wouldn’t heal. Quintus had herbs from the East, and when he visited the town where Flavius was stationed, the men in Flavius’ troop came to Quintus and asked if he had any medicine that would help their wounded comrade.

  Quintus took his herbs to Flavius’ tent. The wound was deep and infected, and Flavius was covered in perspiration. The pain from the wound was horrific. Fortunately, Flavius would drift in and out of consciousness. Quintus mixed a poultice with the herbs and placed it on the wound. As he left the tent, he instructed the soldiers to leave the poultice in place until he returned.

  Several days went by, and the poultice began to stink. The soldiers thought Quintus had hoodwinked them, so they went looking for him in town. Quintus was selling his wares on the main thoroughfare. The soldiers grabbed him and demanded their money back. Quintus begged them to let him see Flavius, and they relented, dragging him back to the camp.

  As he entered the tent, the smell overpowered him. Quintus approached Flavius and removed the poultice, which had turned brown. The wound underneath looked pink and the skin clear. The poultice had drawn out the poisons, allowing the wound to heal. The soldiers were astounded. Still, Flavius had been asleep for days, and didn’t wake up when Quintus removed the poultice.

  “Why does he sleep so much?” one of them asked Quintus. “Is he dying?”

  “His body is healing. Make him eat and drink, though, or he will die.”

  A week passed, and Quintus was curious about how the young soldier was doing. At the end of the day, he packed up his cart and went to the camp. He was overjoyed to see Flavius up and about, and walking toward him. Flavius came over to Quintus and embraced him.

  “They tell me you’re the man who mixed the poultice that saved my life, sir. I’ll never be able to repay you.”

  Flavius smiled and put his hands on Quintus’ arms and shook them and Quintus smiled and shook his in return.

  “I’m just glad to see you looking so well. Do you still have pain?”

  “Just a little, it’s nothing to worry about. I’ll repay you someday, I promise.”

  Shortly afterward, Quintus left the area and went on with his journeys. His natural talent for conversation and persuasion earned him a great deal of money. One day in early spring, he entered the city of Florentia and was immediately assailed by a bunch of four hooligans who demanded money. They required a tribute, or Quintus would have to move on. Quintus told them he would leave, but then they wouldn’t let him go unless he paid. When his charm failed to move them, he paid, and set up his cart at the end of the road to try and earn back his money.

  Each day they showed up and demanded tribute. Quintus felt like a slave. He was unable to leave as his money was dwindling and they asked for more every day. They were big and ugly, and he knew they could hurt him badly if he gave them an opportunity.

  One day as Quintus was selling items from his cart, the four hooligans approached him. It hadn’t been a good day, and they weren’t satisfied with the tribute he gave them. They began to pull on his clothes and mock him. Fear overtook him as their mocking grew more and more violent. These men were going to kill him and he could do nothing to stop them. As the largest grabbed Quintus’ tunic, he suddenly let go and fell backwards. Flavius stood behind him with a bloody sword. The other hooligans moved away.

  “The three of us can take him,” one of the men shouted.

  Flavius thrust his sword into the man’s belly and the other two men ran for their lives. Flavius helped Quintus pack up his cart and together they quickly walked out of town.

  “My time was up and I decided to come and find you,” Flavius said as they pushed the cart down the road. “You’d do better with a horse to pull this cart.”

  “I can’t afford a horse. I’m saving for a shop in Rome.”

  “A shop in Rome, eh? Then I suggest you stay away from hooligans,” Flavius said. “I know my way around Italy. I can steer you away from them.”

  “I suppose I’d have to pay you,” Quintus said with a sigh.

  “No, just feed me and give me somewhere to sleep,’ Flavius said. “I owe you my life. I want to work for you, to repay you.”

  “Very well, I could use the company. The roads can get lonely.”

  Flavius had worked for Quintus ever since. He’d been with him when he married Agatha and when Cassia was born. He’d helped him through the disappointment of so many lost sons and through his trials with Agatha’s drinking. He’d planned on staying with Quintus forever, but now he wanted a life with Novia and would have to tell Quintus soon, and that’s why telling Cassia was his duty, his one last payment on an old debt.

  Heartbroken

  When the women returned from the market, they found the shop locked. They knocked on the door until Flavius answered. After he let them in, he relocked the door.

  “Why is the shop closed, Flavius?” Cassia asked.

  “It’s mealtime.” As Flavius walked past them and went to his room, Novia handed Cassia her basket.

  “Take the baskets inside, Cassia,” Novia said. She waited until Cassia had gone inside before going to Flavius’ room, where she found him at the table with his hands clasped and his head bent low.

  “What is it, Flavius? What’s happened? Have you told Quintus we’re leaving?”

  Flavius looked up as Novia sat down on the bed.

  “I was going to talk to him today and then we had… a visitor. Darius and his brother came to see him. They practically ran out the door, and then I heard him wailing.”

  “What happened?” Novia asked, suddenly feeling anxious.

  “Darius said he no longer needed to wed Cassia.”

  “Oh, dear,” Novia said. “Cassia will be…”

  “Yes, she’ll be devastated,” he said, “and I’m to tell her.”

  “Why you? Why not that coward of a father? He’s made such a mess of things already.”

  “Because I owe him this one, last thing.”

  “You owe him nothing. You’ve served him well for 20 years. He has no right to expect you…”

  Flavius stood up and slammed his hand on the table.

  “I owe him this and I will pay. Then I can leave with a clear conscience.” Novia again began to protest. “Woman, enough!”

  Flavius walked out of the room and toward the main house, looking for Cassia, with Novia close behind. Cassia would need her when Fl
avius gave her the news.

  Cassia put the baskets in the kitchen where the servants were busy preparing the day’s meals. She was just entering the atrium when Flavius and Novia walked in. She smiled at them, but her smile soon faded as she looked at the expressions on their faces.

  “What is it? You both look so serious,” she said.

  Flavius walked over, put his arm around Cassia and guided her to the couch. “I have to talk to you, Cassia.”

  They both sat down as Novia hovered over them.

  “This is not good, is it?” Cassia asked. Flavius shook his head.

  “Darius came this morning. He told your father there was no need for him to wed you now that his debts are paid.” Flavius stopped, watching for her reaction.

  “I don’t believe you,” Cassia said. “I saw him two days ago and I know he loves me. I just don’t believe you.” Cassia tried to get up off the couch but Flavius held her down.

  “Now you listen to me, Cassia. You’ve known me all your life and I’ve never lied to you. Why would I start now?”

  Cassia looked into Flavius’ eyes and knew he was telling the truth. She looked at Novia, who confirmed it by nodding her head. That’s when the tears began to fall.

  “I must find my father,” Cassia said as she rose from the couch and ran to the back of the domus. Novia wanted to follow her, but Flavius stopped her.

  “He needs to deal with this alone,” Flavius told her.

  Cassia found her father as he was being dressed, and he smiled when he saw her. He then noticed the tears and knew that Flavius had spoken with her. He dismissed his servant and went to his daughter.

  “Oh, my dear, my dear, I’m so sorry. If I’d known what a bounder he was, I would never have brought him home.” He wrapped his arms around her and Cassia buried her head in his chest. She was sobbing so hard that her body shook violently. Quintus was becoming more and more uncomfortable, so he patted her head, and after what he deemed a suitable amount of time, gently pushed her away.

  “Dry your tears, Cassia, this is the last time I’ll subject you to this. If you want to marry a commoner, so be it. If the man is of good character and has a thriving business, then I will give my blessing and a hefty dowry. Now, does that make you feel better?”