After lunch we would rest, and then I spent the time before dinner learning new songs for the cithara or writing letters to my aunt and friends back in Arretium.
I had been in Rome nearly three weeks when Father arrived home late one afternoon with an unexpected visitor. He was clearly not a political or even a business contact. For a start, he was too young, and instead of a toga he was wearing a knee-length tunic, as if he had been on a journey. His fair hair was a little longer than was normal, so that it curled slightly around his ears and the nape of his neck. Standing in a shaft of sunlight, he looked as lean and graceful as one of those athletes the Greeks were so fond of sculpting. I’m sure I must have been gaping like a carp, wondering what his connection to Father could be.
‘Look at this fine fellow I found in the Forum,’ my father said heartily. For the first time since my arrival in Rome, I saw real animation in his face.
‘Well, sir,’ the young man said with a laugh, ‘it’s really I who found you, since I was looking for you, while you had no idea I existed.’
‘And are we to learn the name of your new friend, Gaius?’ Prisca asked pleasantly, though her expression, I noticed, was watchful.
‘Of course, my dear. This is Lucius Cassius Calidus.’
Lucius turned on us a pair of blue eyes that were so clear and light they seemed almost transparent, like the shallows of the Tyrrhenian Sea. ‘I was with Tiberius in Cantabria last year,’ he explained, ‘but I was summoned home to Bononia when my father died. I had to come to Rome on some business to do with his estate and thought I’d introduce myself to Tiberius’s father. Tiberius spoke of him so often I felt I knew him already.’ The light in his eyes dimmed as he said, ‘But I hadn’t heard of Tiberius’s death. I’m so sorry.’
Prisca stepped forwards. ‘You were a friend of Tiberius? I’m very glad to meet you. My husband has invited you to join us for dinner, I hope.’
‘Actually, I’ve invited Lucius to stay with us while he’s in Rome,’ Father interrupted. ‘He had taken lodgings in some unspeakable place in the Subura.’
‘Of course you must stay here,’ Prisca agreed.
A slave was sent to fetch Lucius’s luggage and we went to change for dinner.
As soon as we were out of earshot of the others, Sabine grabbed my arm. ‘He looks like a —’
‘Greek statue, I know,’ I interrupted.
‘I was going to say a Greek god,’ Sabine said, ‘though he’s too fair for that. Did you see his eyes? Oh, what am I going to wear?’
We went into our respective rooms, and for the next little while Aballa rushed back and forth between us.
Aurelia, who had heard us fussing from her own room, came up behind us as we walked along the colonnade. ‘Anyone would think you girls had never seen a handsome man before,’ she remarked.
‘I haven’t seen one that handsome,’ I retorted, which started us all giggling.
‘Except Marcus,’ Sabine added loyally.
The gong sounded to announce dinner and we met Prisca outside the dining room. I thought I detected a sardonic tilt to her lips as she took in our finery.
Father led the way in, one arm draped around Lucius’s shoulders. As they entered, I heard Lucius give a low whistle of appreciation when he saw the centrepiece of the floor, which was a geometric pattern in marble and glass, polished to a high shine. ‘That floor panel is very fine, sir.’ He cast a glance over his shoulder at us girls. ‘There are a lot of fine things in this house.’
Father directed him to the top place on the couch opposite his own. A slave poured out the wine and Father took a sip from his cup, swilling it around his mouth before nodding his approval. ‘This is the new vintage from the estate in Alban? Not bad at all.’ He turned to our guest. I was hoping he would ask Lucius how long he was staying in Rome, and whether he was married or engaged, but instead he said, ‘Tell me, how is it that the conquest of Hispania took so long? Augustus thought he had them six years ago — he even closed the doors of the Temple of Janus to signify peace across all the empire, which was only the fourth time in history those doors have been closed, but rebellion broke out within two years.’
Lucius took a sip from his cup then set it down. ‘It’s the Cantabrians, sir — they’re savages. They don’t fight hand to hand on the battlefield but attack from a distance with spears and javelins then flee to the mountains. And we were no match for them there. They know the terrain too well.’
‘Have you left the army for good?’ Prisca asked.
‘I’m afraid so. I’d planned to make my career in the military, but I have no brothers, so it’s up to me to support my family — I have three sisters and my mother.’ He smiled, his affection obvious. ‘I’ll try to keep my business in Rome brief; I don’t like to stay away from them too long.’
Oh well …
Despite what he’d said, days went by and Lucius showed no sign of leaving. He quickly slipped into the routine of the household, spending mornings in the tablinum with my father as he received clients for the daily audience, and then going with him to the Forum. While the Senate was sitting in the Curia, Lucius would attend to his own business then meet Father afterwards so they could go to the baths together.
‘Whatever business brought him to Rome mustn’t be very pressing,’ Aurelia observed. ‘Nor the claims of his estate back in Bononia. He seems quite settled here.’
I wasn’t complaining. I found myself looking forward to his return from the baths in the evenings, and those nights when he didn’t come home with Father because he had been invited to the home of a friend of his own family’s for dinner seemed dull.
‘It’s like having another brother,’ Sabine remarked when Lucius had been with us for ten days. I thought I saw a look of alarm pass over her mother’s face. Sabine continued, ‘Except that Lucius is here and Marcus isn’t. Why has Marcus been away so long?’
Aurelia had a half-smile on her face as she awaited her mother’s answer.
‘Business,’ said Prisca in a manner that invited no further questions. ‘But he’d do well to put in an appearance soon or all my good work will be undone.’
What good work was that? I wondered, but her daughters didn’t ask so I didn’t either.
As my father’s mood grew increasingly buoyant, I remembered Aunt Quinta’s suggestion that the lessening of his grief might make him more ready to part with me. I thought about raising the subject, but the truth was, the sharpness of my homesickness had faded. While I wouldn’t say that I felt completely at home in my father’s house (Prisca was too scary for that), I enjoyed the company of Aurelia and Sabine. And then there was Lucius … I would wait a little longer before bringing up the prospect of my return to Arretium, I decided.
It was also thanks to Lucius that my father finally began to pay attention to me. Lucius’s admiration of my singing, or the fluency of my Greek when I read aloud after dinner, was always addressed to Father (though surely it was meant for my ears?), and soon Father was complimenting me without Lucius’s prompting.
What I really wanted to know, though, was whether Lucius admired me for Father’s sake or my own. Was it my imagination, or did he single me out for special attention? It was done subtly, with just a look or a word, but I was almost sure he was interested.
One evening, as we waited for the gong to summon us to dinner, I had my answer.
I was sitting on the edge of the fountain with a book while Sabine took Lucius to see the red clover she had planted, much to Prisca’s horror, after spying a clump of it by the roadside near the baths.
When she had explained its healing properties I heard Lucius say, ‘And I thought clover was just a weed.’
‘Very few plants are just weeds,’ Sabine replied. ‘They almost all have a purpose, though it might not be known to us.’
‘Well, I shall be sure to bring you samples of any weeds I come across in the future,’ he teased. He left the garden and came over to sit beside me.
‘You girls make
me feel idle,’ he said. ‘There’s Sabine with her horticultural studies and you deep in Greek literature.’
‘You’re very kind to Sabine,’ I told him. ‘It’s no wonder she thinks of you almost as a brother. Is it having three sisters that makes you so comfortable with us?’
‘Perhaps.’ He looked at me seriously. ‘But, Claudia, you must have guessed that I don’t look on you as a sister.’ He touched my hand where it rested on the scroll and we gazed into each other’s eyes, a feeling of warmth spreading through me.
The moment was broken by Sabine, calling from her garden. ‘Lucius, I forgot to mention coughs. It’s also good for coughs.’
Lucius rose from the fountain’s edge. ‘Excellent,’ he called. ‘I often suffer from coughs in the winter. I can see that from now on I’ll have to travel with weeds in my luggage.’
The gong sounded and he gave me the slightest of winks before heading off to the atrium.
By the time April had passed and the Kalends of May drew near, Lucius had been with us a month. At dinner one evening, as the slaves carried the last of the dishes from the table, my father wiped his mouth and fingers with a serviette then said, ‘We’ve all enjoyed Lucius’s visit, haven’t we?’
As we voiced our agreement, my heart began to sink. I had known he would have to leave some time, but I’d managed to put it out of my head. I glanced at Lucius, to see if he was disappointed, but he looked as cheerful as ever. He was eager to return to his family in Bononia, I supposed.
‘I’m glad you feel as I do,’ Father said, ‘because I’ve invited him to live permanently in our house. He has lost a father and I have lost a son. It is clear the gods have sent him to me.’
Oh! My spirits rose again.
Lucius was glowing at my father’s words and demurring, ‘No, sir: it is me the gods have favoured.’
‘Now you will stay with us forever, Lucius!’ Sabine said, clapping her hands together. ‘I’m so glad.’
Prisca put down her cup of wine so abruptly that the liquid sloshed over the rim. Her nostrils flared slightly and her face was tight, as if she was struggling for composure. It was obvious Father hadn’t consulted her before issuing the invitation.
Her tone was tranquil, though, as she said, ‘Staying in Rome won’t impinge on your duties back in Bononia?’
Lucius said a little wistfully, ‘I’ll miss my family, of course, but the opportunities for me are so much better in Rome.’
‘Is that so?’ Prisca murmured. But she was looking at my father, not Lucius.
I couldn’t understand her attitude. Surely as head of the household Father was entitled to invite whomever he liked to live here.
Yet, next to me, I heard Aurelia whisper to herself, ‘This means trouble.’
Why had Aurelia said that Lucius staying would mean trouble? I turned it over and over in my head after I went to bed, but couldn’t come up with an answer. Surely it was a good thing that Lucius was staying, especially since he made Father so happy. (Okay, so it wasn’t only Father I was thinking of.) I decided to ask her what she had meant the next morning, but when I went to the atrium after breaking my fast in my room with a piece of bread, there was no one about. Perhaps the others weren’t up yet.
Wandering into the garden, I found the cat, Jupiter, eyeing a pigeon standing on Dionysus’s head. ‘Do you ever stop hunting?’ I asked him, a question he ignored.
I walked across the lawn to the right, where my father and Prisca had their rooms. I hadn’t explored this side of the garden much. I tended only to go to Sabine’s corner or to sit by the fountain, or to the outdoor dining area when we ate lunch there. There was another spot Prisca favoured, though; I remembered Sabine pointing it out. I started towards it, but to my surprise the hedges were laid out like a maze, and when I wanted to go left they compelled me right and vice versa. Everything looked different from this aspect. Had I seen this statue of a chubby Cupid before? I couldn’t be sure. I passed through a grove of potted orange trees, which offered me two ways forwards. Hearing a murmur of voices, I realised that I must be close to the terrace. I followed a line of hedge towards the voices and crossed a mosaic of a shepherd boy playing on his pipes while tending his flock. But instead of reaching the others, I found myself standing alone on a patch of soft springy lawn shaded by a weeping willow. I could just make out a stone bench behind its curtain of leaves. I slipped between the ribbons of green and sank onto the seat. I was virtually invisible here. What bliss to find somewhere completely private, with only the burble of a fountain nearby.
Almost at once I heard a voice from the other side of the hedge.
‘You must marry Lucius.’ It was Prisca: firm, imperious.
Startled, I jumped slightly. Was she reading my mind? I had hardly dared utter the secret wish to myself and here she was declaring it aloud!
But she was answered by Aurelia. They hadn’t seen me after all.
‘Oh, Mother, I’m only just free of old Decimus. Must I really put my head in the yoke again so soon?’
‘Aurelia! You should never speak of marriage to Decimus Paullus that way. He was a very well-respected gentleman and a senator.’ Prisca sounded shocked, but she was surely not half as shocked as I was. Why must Aurelia marry Lucius?!
‘Listen,’ my stepmother continued. ‘I think Gaius means to adopt the boy — why else would he have referred to him as a son? And Lucius was alluding to opportunities in Rome in a very significant way, I thought.’
‘Why would Gaius decide to adopt him without consulting you?’ Aurelia asked.
‘I can only assume it’s because he knows I would object,’ Prisca responded grimly. ‘He’s known Lucius no time: he knows nothing about him.’
‘And he’s not Marcus,’ Aurelia suggested.
‘And he’s not Marcus,’ her mother echoed. She sighed heavily. ‘Still, I had thought that with Claudia’s help Gaius might be persuaded …’
I was riveted now, straining to hear. With Claudia’s help … what? My father might be persuaded to do what? I was on the verge of understanding everything, I sensed: my sudden removal to Rome, how I could be useful to my father. I held my breath in anticipation of her next words.
But she left the thought unfinished, saying instead, ‘So there it is: you must marry Lucius. I will do my best to convince Gaius that your marriage will give Lucius the status of a son in our household and therefore adoption, if that’s what he’s planning, is unnecessary. And if Gaius does insist upon it, at least his marriage to you will keep Lucius under my eye.’
I had to restrain myself from groaning in frustration. What do I have to do with it? I wanted to scream.
There was a pause and I could picture Aurelia yawning and stretching. ‘I’m sure I’d have no trouble managing Lucius; he’s so easy-going and eager to please. Besides, we’d have very handsome children together, wouldn’t we? Perhaps I’ll have sons and Gaius could adopt them instead. Then they could grow up to be senators and leading citizens of Rome. Would that make you happy?’
I couldn’t believe she was speaking of marriage to Lucius as if it were nothing. Weren’t his feelings important?
‘How can I have raised a daughter to be so cynical?’ Prisca was saying.
‘You think I’m cynical?’ Aurelia laughed. ‘What about you, Mother? You’re like a spider in her web, weaving away to ensnare us all, busily arranging our lives so as to satisfy your ambition. I must marry Lucius, Marcus must marry Claudia …’
I almost gasped aloud and gave myself away. Was Aurelia joking, or was that really Prisca’s plan?
‘I have written to Marcus three times now ordering him to visit,’ Prisca complained.
‘You know Marcus doesn’t respond well to being ordered,’ Aurelia reminded her.
‘He’ll find himself supplanted in Gaius’s affections if he doesn’t show himself soon.’
‘It’s a bit too late for that; Gaius only has eyes for Lucius. Anyway, was Marcus ever in his affections?’ Aurelia’s tone was lig
ht. ‘I hadn’t noticed. It seems to me they’re always at odds.’
‘Marcus should try harder to please him. And if he can’t do that, at least he’ll be married to Claudia and Gaius’s affection for his daughter will work in Marcus’s favour. You know it’s not just a matter of being the son of a senator anymore; as well as being of senatorial rank and advancing through the cursus honorum, holding a series of military and administrative positions, a certain amount of property is required in order for a man to take his place in the Senate, and your father’s estate wasn’t sufficient. But if Gaius made Marcus his heir … You know, I’d completely forgotten Gaius had a daughter of marriageable age until we received the letter from Arretium about her engagement. What fortuitous timing; it would have been a shame to see Marcus married to Titus Laenas’s daughter just as Titus is falling from favour.’
I felt a sinking in my stomach as at last I began to understand. So Prisca was behind my move to Rome after all these years! That was why my father refused my betrothal to Rufus Crispus — because his wife wanted me to marry her son. I was here to help persuade my father to love Marcus Aquila.
It was all making sense. I could see now why it was important that my father love me — so that he would be inclined to favour my husband. It was not my father I could be of use to; it was Prisca and her son! And then it hit me: all the grooming, all the talk of my manners — was it just for my father’s sake, or for Marcus’s too? The fine gown I wore, the rings on my fingers … I was no better than a pig being fattened for slaughter!
‘The gods will not always oblige by arranging things in your favour, Mother,’ Aurelia cautioned.
Prisca replied airily, ‘I don’t bother the gods; I arrange things myself. And anyway, is it wrong that I should want to help my children? Besides, despite what you think, my plan is in Gaius’s best interests too. You know Augustus is planning to introduce that new marriage law. A marriage between my son and Gaius’s daughter would show our support for him.’ She sounded thoughtful. ‘Caesar Augustus will see how we are striving for the good of Rome. And it would be good for Rome were Marcus to achieve a position of power and influence. He is brilliant and principled and —’
The Raven's Wing Page 6
