A Mixture of Madness, Book II of The Bow - By Levkoff, Andrew Page 0,28

goddess held it still, but to her I give silent thanks. It would have to be a goddess, would it not? Circumspection is rare in men. I could not drag Livia from this indecent establishment, so I opted for a less physical alternative and introduced myself to her friend.

“I know who you are,” Cornelia Metella said, “and I apologize for stealing your Livia away.” My Livia? Had Livia confided some intimate thing to this young lady, or was my imagination spiraling out of control yet again? “Tertulla is housebound by order of her husband, but I never miss my weekly game of trigon. I met Livia with my parents at one of Tully’s dinner parties a few months ago. Marcus Licinius and lady Tertulla brought the new Crassus medicus to drum up business for her practice, which was very liberal of them, but after the introductions, everyone pretty much ignored her because, you know, she’s a slave.” (Editor’s note: Tully was a nickname for Marcus Tullius Cicero)

“Everyone except you,” Livia said.

“It’s not your fault,” lady Cornelia said indignantly. “I find it ridiculous that people refuse to associate with someone simply because of an accident of birth. I have friends my own age who aren’t half as smart or nearly as talented. I’ve been having Tertulla set Livia free as often as possible this past month.”

“I do recall now domina mentioning something about forgiving your absences. At last, I meet the young lady in the flesh,” I said. The two women laughed, first one way, and then another after I said, “What, have I misspoken?”

“Alexander, you are hopeless,” Livia said.

“I persuaded your domina to allow Livia to fill in today. She is an exemplary companion and quite the experienced athlete.”

“And thanks to Alexander,” Livia said, “I shall now have a bruise to prove it.”

“It was stupid of me to interrupt, but seeing you in this place…”

“What do you mean,” lady Cornelia asked, “‘this place?’”

“Don’t mind him,” Livia said. “Alexander is a bit of a prude.”

“That’s so sweet.” Sweet. Just the sort of compliment every man lays awake nights hoping to hear.

“You needn’t worry,” lady Cornelia said with an impish smile. “It’s not like we were considering stealing any trade from the working girls. But occasionally, it is fun to watch, and to be watched. And don’t think I didn’t see, Livia.”

“See what?”

“That muscular beauty with the hairy chest in the game next to ours—he’s been eyeing you since we came onto the palaestra.”

“You are sadly mistaken, my lady.”

“You know it’s true. And I told you not to call me that.” I don’t know which was worse, Livia’s blush or my inability to keep my head from whipping around to spy out this rival. Why can’t I realize my mistakes before I make them? As I returned my gaze to the young domina, the heat began to rise in my own cheeks. Lady Cornelia was beaming up at me with a look that said, ‘I know all your secrets.’ “Besides,” she said aloud, “the Numa is perfectly safe.”

“That’s just it, lady Cornelia. Today, the streets are not safe. I am on an urgent errand for my master, accompanied by several men-at-arms. I will see you both safely home.”

“Nonsense. My man waits in the changing room. Livia’s never had a massage, and I mean to treat her. After which, I shall keep her company while she does some shopping.”

“Go, Alexander. I’ve discovered an herbalist only a few streets away who carries waneb root. I promise, I will let you know the moment I am home safe and sound.”

I hated leaving her, but what could I do? If I had found her alone, I could have ordered her to come with us. But now, in the presence of the patrician’s daughter, I was powerless. I bid them farewell and walked toward the rear of the balnea, skirting the empty pool. I found my own escorts standing in the hallway just outside the calidarium. Betto saw me approach and said, “There you are. Say, was that—”

“No. It was not. Why aren’t you in the calidarium?”

“Two reasons,” Valens said as he and Malchus joined us. “One, it’s hot, and two, he’s not in there.”

Malchus asked, “Weren’t you just talking to—”

“No, he wasn’t,” Betto said imperiously.

Malchus shrugged. “The tribune is through the calidarium in the sweat room. But we didn’t go in.”

“It’s a small room. You can’t miss him.”

I ignored Valens attempt at a joke which I did not comprehend and said, “All right. I’ll be out