Chapter IX Lela
IX
LELA
The linen fabric was a pale cobalt-gray, like the sky right before a storm. It was rough and draped in unflattering folds, and was probably the coarsest, cheapest fabric I’d ever worn. It was wonderful.
“Does it fit all right?” asked Koska from farther away in the bedchamber.
I tied a loose ropelike belt around my waist and stepped from behind the screen.
“It’s perfect.”
He blinked, frowning. “It’s not what you’re used to, but—”
“Trust me.” I stopped him. “It’s perfect.”
I wanted separation from everything I’d been here in Rome. This rough, homespun fabric made me feel disconnected from the person I was in Valerius’s household. I was beginning anew, and I relished the sensation.
He cleared his throat and nodded to the satchel tied with a leather string he’d set on a chair.
“I brought a few other things I thought you might need. Tribune Tiberius only said you came with nothing.”
I sat upon a stool and opened the sack in my lap. I pulled out a wood-carved comb, a few pins made from brass, a second tunic of the same material in beige, a pair of undergarments, and a linen bandeau to bind my breasts.
I couldn’t help a small laugh of pleasure escaping my lips.
“Something amiss?” asked Koska.
“No. Nothing at all. Thank you, Koska.”
How could I possibly explain to him that I’d been forbidden to wear undergarments for the past many years?
“It’s strange,” I said, marveling at the small pile in my lap. “These clothes of a plebeian make me feel richer and freer than I ever have.”
He was quiet a moment. “Ever?”
A flash of a memory came to mind. A warm spring day with clear blue skies above.
Me and my sisters rehearsing a dance. Kizzy kept faltering on the steps.
Kostanya fussed at her in frustration. “A dancing donkey could do better.” Then Malina fell to the grass laughing.
Then so did we all. The pain of remembering them pricked tears behind my eyes.
“No. Perhaps not ever.” I stood, holding the garments, brush, and hairpins. “But I thank you for them.”
“If there is anything else you need, simply relay it to the tribune, and I will get it for you.”
“Can I ask you a question?”
“Of course.”
“Trajan told me you were a slave once, but now you are free. Why did you work for the Roman army when you became free? For those responsible for enslaving people like us?”
Though I hadn’t intended to sound accusing, I couldn’t keep the frustration from my voice.
“Hmph.” He sighed and looked toward the open terrace, the sun setting and casting the city in a reddish-gold hue.
“My master was a general. A well-respected one,” he added.
“He was also good to me. He’d promised he would free me at his death, and he kept that promise.
But it isn’t easy finding good work as a newly freed man here in Rome. ”
“Why didn’t you go somewhere else?”
He shrugged a brawny shoulder. He was of medium height, but thick and strong looking. He appeared capable of working many kinds of jobs. Honest jobs.
“I’ve never lived anywhere but Rome. My family and village was captured and brought to the auction blocks in the forum when I was only ten. I was fortunate to gain my freedom, since so many do not. I suppose I have never left Rome because I was afraid. Better the demons you know, as they say.”
“No. I wouldn’t know,” I admitted. “I wasn’t born here.”
I was born in a beautiful land far from this city of decadence and rot.
He gave a stiff nod. “Legatus Julianus was looking for men to follow his legion, to set up camps. Cook meals. And the pay was very good. Better than I could make as a butcher, which is what I was doing before. Plus, I knew the job. I’d served as my former master’s body slave on his campaigns.”
His explanation didn’t appease me.
“You don’t approve, I see.” He crossed his arms.
“If I had the choice, I would never work for a Roman.”
He huffed a laugh. “It may seem all black-and-white, but this world doesn’t work that way.”
“Perhaps not your world. Evil lives here.” I gestured toward the city beyond the terrace. “I have seen the monsters who rule it with brutal malice.”
“I have too, madame. And they are not all Roman.” His lips tightened as if to keep from saying more, but then he went on. “There’s much you don’t know about—”
“Koska.” Trajan said his name curtly, standing in the doorway, holding a small bundle wrapped in paper.
“Tribune Tiberius.” Koska stood to attention and gave him a deferential bow of the head.
“Have you gotten what I needed?”
“Yes, sir.” He gestured toward me. “I’ve delivered all to her.”
“Good. Thank you.” He took a few steps into the room toward Koska. “And of the other thing I needed you to seek out?”
Koska’s face tightened like it did a few minutes before. “Not yet. But I believe I will have what you need soon enough.”
“Best get to work then.”
“Right away, sir.” He bowed again then disappeared through the archway.
Trajan’s gaze flickered over my new tunic. “I realize that may not be what you’re accustomed to, but it would raise suspicion if Koska went shopping for fine stolas at market.”
“I prefer this tunic over any fine stola.”
He dipped his chin then walked over to the chaise lounge in a corner that faced the window overlooking the back garden. I’d been gazing down all morning, ducking away when anyone from the kitchen strolled into it. There was a small grove of olive trees beyond a stone courtyard with a fountain.
Trajan’s home had a spacious exterior and garden surrounded by a high white-stoned wall.
The house was built on a hill so that his bedchamber had stone stairs to go down into the garden.
I longed to go there, to walk barefoot in the grass, but I was no fool.
I kept tucked away and hidden all day, although no one came near his bedchamber.
“Here,” he said, setting down the paper-wrapped bundle on the chaise beside him and opening the wrapper. “I know you must be hungry.”
I followed him and sat on the opposite side. Inside the wrapper was fresh bread, a hunk of cheese, and a pear.
“I will bring something more later tonight. My cook knows that I prefer my meals late.”
I reached for the bread and tore off a piece. “Thank you.”
He sat quietly while I ate. I stared out the window as the sky softened from orange to pink and pale purple, the first stars appearing up high. He was quiet, seeming preoccupied, but he didn’t leave to do whatever it was he did late afternoons in his home.
Last night, I was filled with the pleasant hum of magic lingering in my veins, of having killed the man I’d hated for years.
Because of that, I’d been bold in my conversation and interactions with this tribune of the senate.
Now, I was hesitant, afraid what would happen to me now, still trapped in this infernal city.
I was also unsure what Trajan’s plans were for me. I was careful with my words.
“What happened in the senate house today?” I finally asked, breaking off a piece of cheese.
He dragged his attention from staring into space and looked at me. “There was a vote to fill the empty consul seat.”
His expression drew tight.
“You seem disappointed. You didn’t get the appointment?”
“I got exactly what I wanted. I’m not disappointed.”
“Then why do you frown?”
“My grandfather is the new consul. If I appear unhappy, it is because this puts him in danger.” He sighed. “Nevertheless, it is necessary.”
“Your grandfather has many enemies?”
“He has very few, actually.”
“Then I don’t understand.”
He held my gaze, his eyes midnight blue and piercing. “What did Fausta give to you?”
“Who?” I was thrown by the change of subject.
“Fausta Ovidius. The Media Nocte patrician woman. I saw you speaking with her in the street, and she gave you a vial.” His stern brow pinched tightly. “And a secret message on parchment.”
My pulse jumped. “I’d almost forgotten.”
“What was the message?”
I shrugged. “It’s difficult to say.”
His scowl deepened. “Try.”
Picking up the pear, I palmed it in my lap, still having little appetite. “The note had quotes by a Greek philosopher.”
“What?” he asked in disbelief.
“It’s true. Something about freedom and happiness.”
He laughed. “That makes no sense.”
I shrugged. “I believe she was encouraging me to escape any way I could. Though I don’t know why she cared.”
“She knows the penalty is death for a slave who tries to run away. And Fausta isn’t a fool. She doesn’t randomly send inspiring quotes to slaves.” He narrowed his eyes accusingly. “What else did it say?”
“I’ve told you what it said,” I snapped, annoyed. “It preached about having the courage to be free. I happened to like the idea so I buried a knife in Valerius’s heart.” I stood abruptly and dropped the pear on the sofa, walking to face the terrace.
The sun melted away, night folding her arms over the city. Trajan’s home was farther up Palatine Hill than Valerius’s. I’d never seen Rome from this height. It disturbed me how lovely it was here. How absolutely beautiful the city was with demons lurking everywhere.
“I’m not sure that’s what she meant for you to do.”
“Regardless”—I heaved a sigh and crossed my arms—“neither she nor you nor anyone else in this godforsaken city knows what it was like to be the muzzled pet of that psychotic dragon.”
He stood and walked to face me, but I kept my gaze on the city rimmed in the last light of day.
“You’re right,” he said quietly. “No one can know that. But you’re not free yet.”
I snapped my head to look at him, fear creeping back into my heart. “What do you mean?”
“They’re looking for you.”
And if I was found here, Trajan would be executed as a traitor. He didn’t say the words but his gentle expression spoke louder. He was trying to be kind in letting me know I needed to leave.
I nodded. “If you can give me some provisions. And perhaps Koska could help me sneak into the Aventine, I’ll hide there. I can be gone by tomorrow night.”
His scowl returned, a rumbling growl in his chest and his eyes flashing bright with the dragon. I took a step back.
“You won’t be sneaking off into the Aventine,” he hissed. “That’s exactly where Caesar’s praetorians are looking for you. Not only that, do you know how high the ransom is?”
I shook my head.
“Five thousand denarii.”
“What?” I gasped. “Five thousand?”
“A pretty ransom for your head. And I can promise you there are enough criminals and desperate plebs who will gladly tie you up and toss you on the doorstep of Caesar’s palace for far less than that.”
“Bona dea,” I whispered.
“Don’t even think about trying to leave on your own while I’m gone, Lela,” he emphasized. “It will be your death, I can promise you.”
“Then what am I to do?” I scoffed. “I can’t live the rest of my life hidden in your bedchamber.” I walked to the window and looked down at the garden. “It has a lovely view,” I added bitterly, “but I’m just as caged here as I was at Valerius’s.”
He didn’t like that response, but he knew I was right. “I can’t keep Alba from my bedchamber for long anyway.”
My heart tripped faster. “Your lover will come here?”
“No.” He gave a halfhearted laugh. “Alba runs the house and is the only person I allow to clean my bedchamber and study.”
“Why is that?”
“Because I am very private and protective of my possessions. I don’t like people in my personal space.”
“I’m in your personal space.”
He paused. “Not for long. I need to find somewhere else to hide you.”
“You know someone who won’t give me up for the ransom?”
He didn’t answer but examined my face and my tunic again.
“Alba will bring me a tray of food to my study in a while, so stay quiet until you hear her come and go next door. I’ll bring you some of my dinner.”
I wanted to protest, but I knew that I needed to keep my strength up. Even if I had little appetite, I had a feeling I’d need to be alert and strong for whatever path lay in front of me.
“Won’t she wonder why you don’t need a bath?”
I’d seen his large bath inlaid with ocean-blue tiles beyond his dressing screen.
“I often use the public bathhouses in the city. She won’t ask.” He nodded and turned for the door.
“Trajan,” I called as he reached the archway and turned. “Thank you for helping me.” I heaved out a sigh. “I know I don’t seem grateful. But I am.”
He stared a moment longer then ducked out of the room, presumably to his study.
It seemed strange he was so private that he kept all but one slave from entering his private chambers here in the back of the house. He didn’t trust them. But even Valerius had allowed all of us in any part of his home. Despite the fact that he had senate papers strewn about.
There was something more to Trajan’s secrets. Something that could get him punished if found in the wrong hands.
I returned to the sofa and picked up the green pear, wondering about the odd behavior of this former soldier, now tribune in the senate house.