The Bow of Heaven - Book I: The Other Al - By Andrew Levkoff Page 0,25

much as a word between us in all those many months? No, it doesn’t count for anything, not then, not now.”

I was not expecting such chastisement. All the more scathing for its accuracy. “Forgive me, Nestor. You are right. Those were difficult times.”

“The only difference now is a bit more food and a bit less mud. Now let me be.”

I awoke some time later lying on my side facing Nestor’s bed. It was empty. From the room next door came again the sound that had roused me – a couch scraping on the floor. There it was again, then two men talking. No, not talking. I rolled over and tried to wrap the long, narrow sleeping pillow over both my ears.

Chapter VIII

82 - 81 BCE - Winter, Rome

Year of the consulship of

Gaius Marius the Younger and Gnaeus Papirius Carbo

It was late the next morning. None of the family had come out yet; the house was oddly quiet. No one was wearing their pileus except Betto, the guard, but he was doing it as a joke. I had just finished translating cook’s instructions for the evening’s meal when Sabina came into the culina. She beckoned me to follow her outside into the garden. Cook flapped his permission with the cloth he used to battle the permanent film of perspiration on his forehead. Limping to my room as fast as I could, I grabbed my only cloak and met her outside. A bright sun was burning the dew away.

Swiping a hand across the marble bench where she stood waiting, I sent a small wave of condensation onto the dead grass. I laid the cloak across the veined stone and we sat watching the steam rise off the artificial pond. “I’m sorry,” Sabina said after a short while.

“This is a terrible place.” I kept still, letting her take her time.

She was not quite ready, but skirted close. “Livia is quite fond of you, you know. She told me she likes embarrassing you.”

“An unremarkable feat, easily accomplished. Only yesterday we were practicing the finer points of how to butcher a boar. Cook was demonstrating, I was translating. The staff laughed at every word I spoke; puzzling, since I could not imagine a subject less humorous. The more they laughed, the angrier I became. How dare they humiliate an invalid with a cane? I chastised them sternly, wagging a finger at their disrespect; the laughter became uproarious. A noise from behind caught my attention; I turned to discover your daughter standing there barefoot, wearing an old brown wig, holding two long sticks with stuffed, white gloves attached to each end. She had snuck up behind me to pantomime everything I did."

“I heard all about it."

"I glared at her, but my heart wasn't in it. She grinned sheepishly and waved at me with one of her 'hands.' It really was quite funny. Even cook laughed.”

"For one so young, you are very good with children. Marcus, too. I know you’ve been teaching Livia Latin.”

“She’s a fast learner. If only we had more time.”

Damn myself for a fool. I had inadvertently broken the spell. For a moment, we might have been mistaken for two companions enjoying the morning air. “I have not been honest with you,” she said.

“You owe me no explanations.”

“I feel that I do.” She bent to pick up a pebble, then tossed it underhand into the pond. “We seem to have become friends, haven’t we? Not an easy accomplishment.” She sighed. “I was ashamed, Alexandros. To confess to you that my station was no better than yours. I thought I would be free, and Livia with me; that I would be gone from this place. Such an insult to you!” She turned to face me. “Can you forgive me?”

“There is nothing to forgive. You have only shown me kindness. You and Livia have been the only brightness to shine upon me in years. The real tragedy is to learn that you and your daughter are not free.”

“They will be looking for us soon. I must tell you quickly.”

“You don’t have to say a thing. Come, let us go in.” I started to rise but she caught my arm.

“No. I must do this.” She steeled herself. “I was pregnant when we married. He was Roman, a soldier for Marius. It wasn’t a formal ceremony, we weren’t citizens, but we were free and it was legal ��� he walked me to our apartment with a few of his legionary friends to bear witness. I wore the flame-colored