Chapter 10
Lea hastily climbed off Kallias’s lap. A stranger’s arrival was possibly the only thing that could dampen her ardor. “You have an assistant?”
“As of a few days ago.” Kallias turned his attention to the closed door. “Good morning, Sextus,” he called. “I’ll join you in a moment.”
“Good morning, sir!” replied an all-too-chipper voice. “The gardener gave me a few bunches of chamomile on my way in. I’ll start preparing them for drying.”
“Thank you,” Kallias called back. He turned to Lea, passing a hand through his hair to neaten the arrangement. “Let me escort you back to the ludus.”
She rose from the bed. “Just show me how to get out of this place. I can make my own way back.”
“Very well.”
They spent a few silent moments fixing their clothing.
Lea quickly braided her hair and found a leather strip abandoned on the floor to secure it.
It must have come off last night when Kallias was taking down her hair.
Then, she gathered up the silken palla from the floor and folded it as carefully as she could.
As beautiful as it was, she hoped she’d never have the occasion to wear it again.
Kallias opened the door and beckoned her through. She stepped into a separate room filled with a long worktable and many sets of crowded shelves. This must be Kallias’s office, she realized, as she had no recollection of it from last night.
A young man, perhaps eighteen, sat on a stool at the table, separating out long stems of white-flowered plants. He glanced up when the door opened. A pink flush spread across his face as he saw Lea, and he shot to his feet. “Oh,” he said. “I didn’t realize there was a lady—”
“There’s not a lady,” Lea muttered.
“Penthesilea attended the dinner party yesterday evening, and she was feeling unwell after. I offered her a place to rest for the evening,” Kallias said smoothly. “I’ll escort her to the exit and return in a moment.”
The youth—Sextus—nodded, his gaze flicking from Lea to Kallias. She could tell he didn’t believe Kallias’s explanation, but he said nothing further.
Lea stepped out of the room behind Kallias and followed him down the hallway. “I didn’t realize the emperor kept you so busy you needed an assistant. He seems in perfect health, from what I’ve seen.” Except for that business about the wine last night.
Kallias cast a glance back at her, and the corners of his mouth tightened.
“He is. He was less robust as a child and got it into his head that he requires the constant presence of a physician.” Kallias lowered his voice, though there was no one else in the hallway to overhear.
“He often concocts ailments for himself. Or for Drusilla. Most of my work with him is convincing him he’s not actually dying.
I took on Sextus to save time in caring for the others here. ”
She quickened her pace to walk beside him.
“You tend the slaves?” She hadn’t thought a man of his caliber, someone who attended dinner parties alongside the emperor, would spare a thought for those so far beneath him.
He did have that patient on the Aventine with the dislocated shoulder, but many would distinguish coming to the aid of a plebeian stranger and regularly providing care to slaves.
He nodded. “Until a few months ago, I was one of them.”
She stopped short. “You were?” She wasn’t sure why that shocked her so much; she knew patrician families often kept skilled slaves who worked as physicians, accountants, or other specialized occupations.
Perhaps it was his air of confidence, his sophistication, the way he seemed to fit so well into his elite surroundings.
He turned back to raise his eyebrows at her, as if his status was something she should have known all along. “Yes. Gaius granted me my freedom upon his accession.”
He continued walking, and she hastened to keep pace.
“Why?” Freeing a slave was generally done in recognition for many years of loyal service or an act that went above and beyond one’s duties, such as saving the master’s life.
“I was part of his household when he was taken to live with the old emperor at Capri. We spent six years in rather challenging circumstances. I proved my loyalty.”
Lea wrinkled her nose. “Living in an emperor’s villa is challenging circumstances?”
He aimed a sharp, sidelong look at her. “You don’t understand what it was like.”
The more she discovered about him, the more curious she became about his past, the experiences that had shaped him. “So tell me.”
“With that family, no one was safe.” Kallias lowered his voice further until Lea had to draw even closer to him to hear.
Her arm brushed his, and heat welled at the brief contact.
“Gaius watched his mother and two older brothers be exiled and die. Then he was named the heir, but the old emperor didn’t trust him, so he was taken to Capri as a hostage.
If he had said one wrong word, I have no doubt he would have met the same fate as the rest of his family. And his household along with him.”
Lea tried to imagine what he described. She’d heard stories about Tiberius, the old emperor, whispers of the erratic temper and unnatural proclivities he indulged while sequestering himself at his isolated villa.
Six years of that must have been very trying.
“Did he free everyone who attended him, then? Or just you?”
“Just me.”
“Why?”
He glanced down at her. “If you really want to know, I can’t speak of it here.
” He took her uninjured arm and steered her in a different direction.
A moment later, they emerged into a wide, sunny courtyard, lined with columns and surrounded by flowering trees and bushes. A bubbling fountain centered the space.
Kallias brought her to the bench nearest the fountain and sat beside her. She realized he meant for the noise of the water to camouflage their speech, though no one seemed to be about at this early hour.
“Drusilla was at Capri with us,” he continued. “Gaius was worried…he feared the emperor…” Kallias went silent for a moment, and she sensed he was sorting through words in his head. “He feared his sister might attract undue attention from the old emperor.”
Lea shuddered, abruptly grateful that the man they spoke of was in the underworld where he belonged. Hopefully somewhere deep in Tartarus, having something very, very painful done to him for eternity. “I see.”
“Gaius enlisted my services to help protect her.” Kallias’s voice dropped to a whisper. “Making sure he was in no condition to bother her.”
Lea blinked. It took her a moment to understand his meaning. Then she gasped. “You poisoned the emperor?”
“No!” he hissed. “I merely slipped him a remedy I’d give anyone else who needed a long, restorative rest. Only I did it every night I could manage it.”
“You drugged an emperor.” Admiration swelled in her chest. She couldn’t imagine how much cunning and bravery it took to pull that off once, let alone many times. If he’d been discovered…
Another shiver ran through her. If he’d been discovered, no doubt he would not be sitting here on this bench talking to her today.
“That was why Gaius freed me,” Kallias finished. “But little has changed.” A touch of bitterness edged his voice, which surprised her. She would have thought his life here was ideal. He had status, security, and freedom.
She wanted to question him further, but the arrival of three people in the courtyard made her fall silent. It was Drusilla, followed by two attendants. Lea and Kallias hastened to their feet.
“Oh!” Drusilla let out a pleased exclamation when she saw them, and hurried over to them, her orange dress fluttering behind her in the light morning breeze.
Her brown hair was bound in a simple braided bun, with a spray of tiny white flowers tucked into it.
“Penthesilea! I didn’t realize you were still here.
I could have had a room prepared for you.
Unless…” Her gaze slid to Kallias, and a sly smile curved her lips. “Perhaps that wasn’t necessary.”
A flush heated Lea’s face, as if she’d walked into the hottest room at the baths. “I—I was—”
Kallias gave her a slight nudge, perhaps exhorting her to be quiet. “Since the hour had grown so late, I suggested it might be best for Penthesilea to spend the night on the spare bed in my office.”
Lea had noticed no such spare bed in his office, but she was grateful for the lie.
“Oh. Well, wherever you slept, I’m glad I found you. I wanted to ask you something.”
“M-me?” Lea stammered. What could Drusilla possibly want from her?
“I want you to give me lessons!” Drusilla announced.
“Lessons,” Lea repeated blankly. “In what?”
“Fighting, of course,” Drusilla said. An eager light sparked in her gaze. “I thought perhaps wrestling. Or archery. You’re supposed to be good at archery, aren’t you?”
Lea nodded reluctantly. In addition to combat matches in the arena, she also took part in occasional archery competitions, and she was known as one of the best archers in the city, male or female.
“I have a friend who has a wrestling instructor,” Drusilla continued. “I’m told it’s very healthy for ladies to be strong, so we can survive childbirth. Isn’t that right, medicus?” She turned her attention to Kallias.
Lea found herself praying he would disagree, state that it was in fact extremely unhealthy for elite women to undertake any physical activity, especially when taught by a female gladiator named Penthesilea…
Instead, he nodded. “I believe a degree of physical activity benefits everyone.”
“So you’ll do it?” Drusilla asked Lea. “I was thinking once a week. Maybe Fridays. Kallias, you can sort out the details of payment with my steward. Whatever Penthesilea thinks is fair. Wonderful! I’ll see you then.
” Then, in a flutter of orange fabric, she was gone, disappearing with her attendants through the columns on the other side of the courtyard.
Lea blinked. She wanted to point out that she hadn’t actually agreed to anything—but perhaps agreement was not required where the emperor’s sister was concerned.
She glared at Kallias. “I’m going to kill you. This was supposed to be just a dinner, which was bad enough, but now I’ve been roped into weekly lessons?”
“It was hardly my idea,” he said blithely. “In any case, I imagine her interest will fade quickly. And the money will make it worth your while in the meantime. How much do you want? Five hundred sestertii a lesson? I can organize the payments with her steward.”
Some—but not all—of Lea’s irritation rapidly dissolved at the mention of money. Five hundred a lesson, for perhaps an hour or two of work? Easy money. And she needed all she could get.
She let out a tight sigh through her teeth. “Fine. No less than five hundred.” Lucullus would be entitled to a share of her earnings, but any money was better than none.
“Good. Now, the exit is this way.” He beckoned her through the courtyard, and she followed.