The Bow of Heaven - Book I: The Other Alexander

by Andrew Levkoff

  “It heartens me,” I replied, “to know we are so well protected by the alert and ever-vigilant Malchus. Brigands, blackguards and thieves beware!”

  “Don’t let this come as a shock,” Malchus said, his mouth well-stuffed, “I’m not guarding you, I’m guarding you, if you follow.”

  “You’re doing a superlative job either way,” I said, heading back to my room. When I turned aside the curtain and slipped into bed I realized that I was alone. Nestor was gone.

  ***

  Indeed, over the coming weeks it seemed as if I had the room to myself at night. Nestor continued to behave as if our recent paths were not literally chained together, as if his claim to this place was somehow greater than mine. If it were mine to give, he’d be welcome to it. I would have welcomed his friendship, but that tree was obviously not going to bear fruit.

  There was, however, a direct correlation between Nestor’s absence and Pío’s demeanor. Dare I say it? The man’s disposition was becoming almost sunny! The more time they spent together, the less the Spaniard preyed upon the rest of us. Food rations were no longer withheld, sexual blackmail vanished and the household in general brightened several shades. It was spring, and Pío and Nestor were in love.

  But no good thing comes without a price, and it was Sabina and her daughter who paid it. With the house settled back into a normal routine, there was no need for extra help; Pío refused the “coin” with which Sabina had paid him so that she and Livia could be together as much as possible. True, happiness had tamed his more repulsive habits, but it had also made him faithful. And as bad luck would have it, Crassus took Pío to task over the house accounts. Not that there was any lack of funds, but to the master, “more” was always better than “enough.” Livia came to us no more.

  I could not bear the sight of frustration and heartbreak in Sabina’s eyes. While I lacked the courage to stand up for myself, it welled up of its own accord on behalf of my friend. Malchus had said something about being a sword for hire; that gave me the kernel of an idea. And so it was I found myself standing alone before the master in his tablinum.

  “You wished to see me?” Crassus chose an apple from a bowl and offered it up to me. I declined gracelessly, only able to manage a grunt and a head shake. He shrugged and bit into it himself. What was I doing here? Was I mad? Before I could get my vocal chords to function he saved me by asking, “How are you settling in?”

  “Well,” I managed.

  “And how goes it with Marcus? Give us a progress report.”

  “Well ...” I repeated. Do I tell him the truth? I don’t see what choice I have. “He’s keen on mathematics. At least, that is, he understands that when I take two blocks away from three he is left with only one. It, uh, is easier for him to grasp the ... conceptual aspects once he stops crying.”

  “I see.”

  I had no choice but to forge ahead. “He’s quite entertained by some sections of The Iliad. I’m afraid his favorite part - I’ve had to repeat it to him almost every day this month – is the death of Hector.” Crassus smiled at that. “He’s learning his Latin letters, but truth to tell, dominus, Greek is as yet beyond him.” I waited, but Crassus was silent. “We’ve started with a little history, the Punic wars, but forgive me, lord, I cannot hold his attention for more than a few minutes.”

  Crassus stroked his chin. He let out a long breath and I could have sworn he was about to send me to the mines. Instead, he said, “I suppose, then, we’ll have to leave oratory and the Epicureans till he’s four.”

  “That might be, I mean to say, four is perhaps ...”

  “I am in jest, Alexander. Let him play.”

  “Dominus?”

  “I was wrong to start him so young. Does he like you?”

  “I think he tolerates me. He loves his mother, and Sabina. And you, of course.”

  “Alexander!” he snapped. My sandals almost left the floor. “You are not a client. And I am not your patron. Patronize me again at your peril.”

  “Yes, dominus.”

  “You’re a good man, Alexander,” he said with softer tone. “I know, because my son knows. You cannot fool a child. I note you have omitted Marcus’ progress with his riding lessons.”

  “Dominus?”

  “Your hands and knees must be raw, from what he tells me.”

  “Oh.”

  “Oh indeed. Continue as you see fit. He’d miss his time with you were I to postpone his “lessons” for another year. Now what’s this you say about Sabina?”

  “My experience with children is quite limited, dominus. Limited, indeed, to myself. An only child. No playmates to speak of. Sabina has been a great help with Marcus. Which, if I may ....”

  “What is it?”

  Now we’d come to it. I felt as if the past few minutes had helped my cause, but I was too nervous to see anything objectively. By the Dog, curse my trembling, perspiring body. I did my best to ignore my uncooperative physical self and concentrate on my ideal, non-corporeal self. “I have a proposition, dominus.”

  Crassus hoisted the semaphore of a raised eyebrow. Was this permission to proceed, or a manifestation of ‘how dare you?’ His next utterance would tell. Remember, don’t patronize. Like a barrel rolling downhill, I plunged on, waiting for the moment when my staves would explode. “It is an idea that will unite a family, bring good to many in your name and procure another able body for your house at no cost to you. I would humbly beg that you allow Sabina a peculium.”

  I paused for a response. “If you are finished,” Crassus said, “then my answer is ‘no.’”

  “Finished? No! Out of politeness, I merely wanted to give you the chance to voice your initial thoughts.”

  “You just heard them. Never let manners stand in the way of making your case. The great orators barely take a breath between sentences to frustrate any chance of interruption. Plow on, Alexander. I don't have all morning.”

  “Here it is, then.” I took a breath and expectorated my argument as quickly as my pasty tongue would allow. “Livia, Sabina’s daughter, was sold by her father to pay his gambling debts. She is owned by Boaz who on occasion leases her to this house. Sabina is a trained healer whose talents go tragically unused. Purchase Livia for the sum of 8,000 sesterces; Sabina will contribute 2,300 of the cost. The balance she will repay from the profits from her peculium – as a healer. Livia will be reunited with her mother, both will become your property and your reputation as a sage and canny patrician will increase.”

  “Qualities by which I am already known. I thought you said it would cost me nothing.”

  “Eventually.”

  “How did she come by such a sum?”

  “She sold herself to Boaz.”

  Crassus nodded. “Would that all Roman mothers acted as nobly, when Roman men succumb to their failings.”

  I could not help myself. “Sabina is Greek.”

  Crassus eyed me. “And no less noble for it. Why does Boaz sell the girl so cheaply – she could fetch twice his asking price.”

  “This I cannot explain. I think he likes the mother.”

  “I will not have strangers with gods know what sores and ailments tromping through the house. I will not allow any such unfortunates near my children or my wife. She may not ply her trade here?”

  “The empty apartment that faces the street could be used as a taberna. It has its own entrance and is used only for storage. It's completely separate from the main building by at least two hundred feet of garden.”

  "I know where it is; it's my damn house!"

  “You could charge her rent,” I said in as small and unobtrusive voice as possible.

  “I would charge her rent. But tell me, Alexander, has your convoluted scheme considered this? What citizen would make the trek up the Palatine when there are plenty of doctors, male doctors, throughout the city?”

  “A well-placed word or two from Crassus would push the stone from the hilltop. Word of mouth would soon cause an avalanche. In reverse, so to sp
eak.”

  “I see. More work for me. Next I suppose you will tell me that you yourself are living proof of her skills. You needn’t bother. I began looking for your replacement the moment the fever came upon you. Few survive its grip. She has a gift, without doubt.”

  I held my breath. At last Crassus spoke again. “The plan has merit. Get the money from Pío and see that the girl is here by nightfall.”

  “Dominus!”

  “So help me, Alexander, if you fall to your knees or begin to blubber, I shall strike you. Get some backbone in you. I have no use for cowards. You belong to a noble house; best you act the part."

  There is a nasty miniature of me that lives inside, a small but persistent voice that would spoil any triumph, sour any accomplishment. How it came to reside in my head is a mystery. I would excise it if I could; and yet I do enjoy arguing with it. Since coming to the house of Crassus I have given it a name. I call it Little Nestor. Well, here was a perfect opportunity for the daemon to be heard, and he did not disappoint. In that instant of my master’s acquiescence, I experienced real joy, a feeling that had eluded me since my abduction. Little Nestor could not let that go, and I heard him whisper: his words are free, but you are not. Act the part, he says. As long as you remain here, like an actor never allowed to leave the stage, you will never be yourself. So act the part. Slave.

  That day, I managed to ignore him, enough to say, “Dominus, I am very pleased. And on Sabina’s behalf, I offer gratitude. There is but one thing more; actually two. Please do not tell her this was my idea. Take credit yourself, or perhaps give it to domina, whatever you think best.”

  “Why would we do that? Your suggestion is an act of kindness she will not soon forget.”

  “First, the act is yours, not mine. Second, she is my friend; I want no debts between us. Lastly, Sabina is proud almost beyond measure. This would sit better coming from the master of the house.”

  Crassus rose from his seat. “Stay here. I must fetch my wife.” He walked back toward the atrium and I heard him call for Tertulla. In a moment, the two returned, followed by Sabina, who led a wobbly, grinning Publius by the hand.

  “Columba, a word. Sabina, if you wouldn’t mind, take Publius for some air.”

  “Yes, dominus.” Sabina left, looking back over her shoulder to fling a nervous ‘what’s-going-on?’ face at me. I replied with a look of feigned innocence and hoped that it appeared genuine. I was never much good at dissembling.

  “Alexander! What have you gone and done now?” Tertulla took both my hands in hers and held them while she spoke. Her smile was so broad and genuine I felt my face redden. “He’s so good with Marcus, husband. How's the leg, Alexander?”

  "It heals," Crassus answered for me, sounding slightly irritated. He bade Tertulla sit in his chair and began to recount the details of my proposal. He stood next to me, so close I could smell his perfume. I hoped that my own scent did not offend. If only I could step further away unnoticed. I am most comfortable on the outskirts; being at the center of anything unnerves me, the center of attention in particular. To endure, I composed my features into one I hoped gave the impression of self-abasing, modestly proud interest. No mirror presented itself, so I attempted to breathe normally and instead let the vision of my mistress consume me.

  Tertulla’s hair was long in those days, and as black as any Nubian’s. She wore it piled at the back of her head, held with gold butterfly pins. Two long tresses escaped this binding and fell down either side of her neck. It was a style that made her look regal, yet utterly feminine. Her sleeveless peplos, pinned at the shoulders with more gold butterflies, was pale blue, a foil to the darker seas of her eyes. She left one shoulder bare by draping her palla as a long, diagonal sash. Her toenails were painted to match her peplos and her long-laced sandals were gold. She was nineteen, five years younger than I; precisely the sort of girl who wouldn’t give me a second look or a first chance back in Athens. She was as beautiful as Phaedra, my youthful infatuation at the Academy, but where Phaedra was a siren, Tertulla was Venus.

  Chapter X

  81 BCE - Spring, Rome

  Year of the consulship of

  Marcus Tulius Decula and Gnaeus Cornelius Dolabella

  “Why didn’t Sabina come to me?” Tertulla asked when Crassus had finished. “That child is a delight. I would have purchased Livia in a hummingbird’s heartbeat had I known.”

  “Of course you would, columba, because little doves don’t know the value of money.”

  “Don’t patronize me!” she said with playful indignation. The irony, however, was lost neither on me nor on Crassus, who glanced sideways at me with a weak smile.

  “Never again,” he proclaimed dramatically, dropping to one knee. Tertulla laughed and slapped his hand away. “But Alexander’s plan,” he said conspiratorially, “has more financial merit. With your permission, of course.” Their playfulness with each other was embarrassing, yet wondrous to witness. Irony was everywhere this day.

  “I have only one suggestion,” Tertulla said, standing and pulling her husband up with her. None present, especially the lady herself, believed that she would ever limit her opinions to just one. “Pay Boaz Livia’s full worth, love. I know that Jew; he’s as soft-hearted as a lamb. How he ever chose that trade is a wonder. How he survives in it is a miracle.”

  “You needn’t worry about him,” Crassus said. “His family’s been in the business for generations. He may choose to keep a modest house in the Subura, but his accounts are overflowing. He has an eye for talent, and a keener lookout for profit. I suppose that gives him the latitude to make exceptions when he chooses.”

  “So you will pay him the 16,000 sesterces? Sabina is sure to be a success and your purse will yet be made whole. When you think of it, a little more time, not money, is all that will be required.”

  “And we forbid women the practice of law! If I refuse her," Crassus said to the air above, "though the cost could not be counted in gold, its sum would be far greater.”

  “Isn’t it wonderful to have a husband who comes complete with both ears and heart?” she asked, also to no one in particular. I felt completely useless.

  Crassus answered her nonetheless. “Much depends on where you find them. They’re not much use in the senate.”

  “Oh, one more thing. Let Sabina keep her coins. It is a trifle to us, but a treasure to her.”

  “Let us wait a moment, Alexander," he said, finally addressing me directly. "There may yet be more.”

  “No, I assure you I am quite finished.” Crassus nodded and turned back to his scrolls. “Oh.”

  “Yes, dove?”

  “Of course, Sabina should only be required to repay 2,300 of the total. If we choose to offer more to Boaz, that is not to be counted against her.”

  “Agreed.” Now Crassus waited.

  “No, no, I am quite finished. The good commander knows when to leave the field. I retreat and leave you to carry on.” She whispered, “I shan’t say a thing. Let’s tell her when we put the children to bed, shall we?” Without waiting for an answer she kissed her husband lightly on the cheek and turned toward the peristyle. “Sabina! To me, please.”

  Tertulla had not gone ten steps when she stopped and called back, “Husband - interest free!” Crassus waved her off.

  “I wasn’t going to charge the woman interest,” he muttered.

  “Um,” I ventured after making sure that Tertulla was completely out of sight, “I have something more, if I may. It concerns my tutoring duties?”

  “Why, are you tiring of them?”

  “On the contrary, I think I may have found my calling. Teaching suits me. Which is what gave me this thought: Running about the house translating Pío’s instructions seems inefficient for both myself and the staff. I am constantly repeating myself and being interrupted by someone looking for a word here or a phrase there. I should like, with permission, to make the process more formal.”

  “How?”

  “A school. Imagine
an entire bilingual staff - their value would increase two-fold at least, if I understand the market. Communication and work would flow smoother throughout the domus. And we needn’t limit instruction to language: any skill required by the familia could be taught. Gardeners could teach gardening, cook could teach, well, cooking, so that more than one of us would have the same skill. Should one become sick, others could fill in. And if dominus feels the need to sell one of us, we are bound to fetch a higher price.”

  "And where would you organize this school?”

  “The apartment has two large rooms. Plus two smaller closets.”

  “You’ve been headed here all along, haven’t you?”

  “When I thought of Sabina’s plight, I went to look at the apartment - the idea dawned on me then.”

  “Why so timid, grammaticus? As you learn to know me, you will find that I am quick to appreciate logic, especially when logic leads to profit. Now I must find my wife and contradict her, gods protect me. News of this importance cannot wait for nightfall. Sabina should not have to wait an extra minute to be reunited with her daughter. Go straight to Pío and have him see to the girl’s return personally.”

  “Dominus, what if Livia has been sent to work at another house?”

  “Tell Pío to find her and remove her. He can take Betto and Malchus with him. The three of them should be persuasion enough. And if Boaz requires more convincing, remind him his asking price was two; we are paying four. If that should still prove insufficient, I will buy out any open contracts. But I shall want to see them first. Send Pío to me if any of this is unclear to him.”

  ***

  The next morning I had been released to prepare the schoolroom. Secured in my tunic was a purse containing a thousand sesterces! I went to the forum shops and purchased supplies, including writing tablets, paraffin, stili, paint and brushes. My plan was to whitewash one entire wall then use it to write my lessons so all could see them. The student would practice with his wax tablet and stilus, then I would paint the wall and start again. Letters, syllables and some phrases would remain constant at the top of the wall; more ephemeral lessons would be painted over.