The Bow of Heaven - Book I: The Other Al - By Andrew Levkoff Page 0,33
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.”