The Bow of Heaven - Book I: The Other Al - By Andrew Levkoff Page 0,78

left, I found him at the stables securing his belongings and tools to the horse Crassus had gifted him to speed his journey to the latifundium. The Cremona farm was prospering, and a man who could repair almost anything was always in great demand. He looked fine in his sand colored tunic and maroon cloak. I noticed he wore military style caligae on his feet, leather laces crisscrossing up to his calves.

“I am sad to see you leave,” I said, handing him his bedroll.

“I am sad to be leaving. I like the city life; the country is too noisy for me.” I cocked my head. “I hate the sound of crickets. And mosquitoes? I’ll never get a good night’s sleep again. But,” he said, scratching his shaved head, “that’s what I get for putting my cock where it didn’t belong. I fucked things up for you as well, and for that I am truly sorry. Any chance you can patch things up with her?”

“In another lifetime, perhaps.”

“When snakes have knees, eh? Well, maybe it’s for the best. She was a bit young for you, eh? Jupiter’s balls, Alexander, in your position, you can get any wench you want. Just whistle and point.”

I had no reply. Though our feet were planted on the same ground, Ludovicus and I lived in two different worlds; there were some words that could never span that celestial distance to be heard or understood. Instead, I said, “So it’s true then: you were not faithful to Sabina?”

“Faithful? You’re joking, right?”

“She cared for you deeply. She’s had a hard a time of it. Did she never tell you?”

Ludovicus shrugged. “There wasn’t much opportunity for conversation. She’d come to my room, I’d throw Tranio the hell out, and when we were done, he’d come sulking back to his bed. The most talking we did was, after about a week of this, we told Tranio he could stay put, we didn’t mind.”

“So you never exchanged words of commitment, or endearment?”

“I didn’t. She may have done. Alexander, look, I get it, there was a fucking great misunderstanding. I liked her and all, I liked her a lot, but it wasn’t as if we were married.” He bent to cinch his saddle. “The thing I can’t figure is why she didn’t take one of her scalpels to me. She had plenty of opportunity.”

“She and Tessa had always been at odds,” I said. “If she’d gotten away with it, she must have thought she could go on with you like before. If I hadn’t stumbled upon her in the woods, she’d very likely be here now. You wouldn’t be packing and Livia and ....”

“Here now,” he said, standing. “Come on, come here.” He threw his arms around me and gave me a bone squeezing hug. “It’ll be all right. You’ll see.” After slapping me on the back a few times, he released me and we shook hands.

“You’re a good man, Ludovicus. For all your faults.”

“And usually proud of them, too. Except today.”

“Perhaps our paths will cross again.”

“May the gods make it so.” He leapt up on his horse and I handed him the reins. His clear eyes smiled down at me and for a moment, I wondered what it would be like to be a man like him: big, strong, confident, carefree, and unburdened by an excess of contemplation. He saluted smartly and rode off. The next time I saw him he would be wearing a centurion’s helm, bloodied and ferocious, wielding a sword as if it grew from his arm.

***

Livia left the baths in the direction of the wine room. “Not the five or the ten,” Tertulla called after her, “but the fifteen, if you can find it.”

“You know, she’s become quite stunning,” Crassus said, eyeing the lissome departure of the twenty-three year-old, whose long tresses, wrapped and tied atop her head with a fringed scarf had deepened to the color of fiery autumn leaves. “I thought she was a seamstress,” he mused.

I found some empty wall space and put my back to it.

“Not today,” Tertulla said.

“What do you think, Alexander?” Crassus asked.

“About what, dominus?”

“Don’t be obtuse, man. You’ll remind me of Cicero and spoil my good mood. About Livia. Is she not a ravishing creature?”

“She ... um, she whistles well enough.”

“That’s it?” Crassus asked, giving me an incredulous look. “Don’t lie to me; you’ve had your eye on her for ages, you coward. You’d have more than that if she’d let you.”

I winced.

“Apologies, Alexander,” Tertulla said as she rose, leaving