A Mixture of Madness, Book II of The Bow - By Levkoff, Andrew Page 0,102
I know your heart and mind better than any man. I have seen your cunning, your intelligence, your business acumen and your political savvy. I know you to be a man of extreme generosity, good humor and loyalty. I cannot imagine what it must have been like as a young man to see your father and brother slain before your eyes. I know this is why you are so passionately protective of Tertulla, Marcus and brave Publius. You have suffered greatly, yet you have persevered and gained the world. In your heart, there is goodness, and in your mind, the desire to do the right thing. I do not believe that you are a ruthless or barbaric man, for I understand that the subtleties and intricacies of great sculpture must first endure the insults of chisel and hammer.
“All I am asking, dominus, is that you allow me the freedom to be absent should you ever speak again of the necessity that forced you to adorn the Via Appia with such stern politics.” My voice was like the slow, persistent squeeze on the neck that extracts every drop of venom from the cobra’s fangs.
Crassus was silent. The game piece had been moved. We never spoke of it, but each knew the rules. I would push the limits of my master’s patience, or his tolerance, see how far and how often I could bait him until finally he snapped and reverted to the basic, fundamental nature of our relationship. Even if I lost, I won, for I would see the victory of pain in his eyes as he witnessed whatever punishment he imposed upon me. But it was a dangerous game, for men like me were cheaply bought by men like Crassus, and the silver mines were always hungry for more human fodder to chew and choke. Yet I was compelled. I had nothing that was not given me, nothing that could not on a whim be taken away. Except this. My prize was a shred of dignity that covered nothing but my naked shame. His prize, if he kept it, was a shred of humanity which he shared with no one.
Finally, Crassus spoke slowly and softly, a knife slipping gently between the ribs. “This freedom, Alexander, I shall grant you.” Before I could offer my thanks, he said, “Now go fetch me an apple.” As I turned to walk toward the shuddering galley tent, conceding the round to my master, he added without emphasis or emotion, “And bring one for yourself.”
Ah. A draw then.
•••
The apples were crisp and tart. Resuming our discourse beneath the pregnant sky, I said, “You have not yet told me of the curse, of which I have heard little else since your arrival, from everyone but you.”
“Alexander, I tell you, that man practically caused a riot. I approached the pomerium just at the sixth hour with my lictors and only the first century of the first cohort as escort. The sun was high and made blinding mirrors of their armor. Their weapons waited for them outside the city walls. There, like a recurring nightmare, at the Capena Gate stood Ateius, who had raced ahead to block the exit with his retinue. Before him a lit brazier was already aflame, the incense and oils he was pouring into it causing a stench as foul as low tide and burning blood. A large crowd had gathered by the time I stood before him. Billows of noxious yellow smoke rose even to the ramparts above the arch where spectators were climbing, scrambling for a view and cleaner air.
“Ateius screamed at me once more to abandon my plan to ignore the will of the senate. I calmly replied that I would not. He stared at me wild-eyed for a moment, his jowls turning red like a fat, mating lizard. Truly, he looked as if he was about to burst. At last he shouted, “So be it!” Then he threw off his toga to reveal yellow robes streaked as if stained with blood.”
“A magus,” I whispered.
“Yes. There was an audible gasp from the crowd as he raised his arms over his head. He began to wail in an unnatural, shrill falsetto that sent shivers through everyone, including me. This was not your typical malediction for the return of a stolen bath towel, scratched into a lead tablet and thrown down a well. No, this was a searing, hate-filled execration aimed not only at my total destruction, but everyone associated with the undertaking.