Other Alexander, The (18 page)

Chapter XXIII

70 BCE   -   Fall, Baiae

Year of the consulship of

Gnaeus Pompeius Magnus and Marcus Licinius Crassus

Tertulla lay on her side on a couch by the warm water pool, her towel haphazardly draped about her waist. “Someone seems to have emptied our cups, the curs.” 

“Alexander,” Crassus said, “would you please summon Tranio to see if there is any more
Caecubum
?”

“I know where it is,
domini
,” Livia volunteered. “Alexander, I will go. Keep your place - remain by
dominus
.” A honey bee usually dies when once it stings. Were Livia a member of the order Hymenoptera, she would be more wasp than bee. Her words could prick over and over again with impunity. If memory serves, it is only the female of the species capable and willing to deliver these little, vexing attacks.

Livia. In the years since I had robbed her of her mother, the whistling, impudent sprite had lost none of the qualities that had drawn me to her when she was little more than a child, although the first of these had diminished to accommodate a burgeoning of the second. Six more years had aroused and affirmed what everyone in the
familia
already knew, including the girl herself. What was impish and playful at seventeen had matured into stunning and willful at twenty-three.

Some well-worn turns of phrase, worked smooth by years of usage may grow stale and out of favor. Yet the kernel of their truth may yet be fresh; indeed their hoary longevity is proof of their accuracy even though the modern wordsmiths may pass them by as unfashionable. Here is one such as this:  the effect Livia had on me, steadfast and unchanging since the day I realized I was in love with her:  the sight of her took my breath away. This in spite of my own damnable contribution to her loveliness:  a layer of sadness deep in her eyes, dead leaves in a forest pool. But she was nothing if not pragmatic. Her mother was gone, she was a slave in the house of Crassus, and since she could not avoid her fate, even as I had done years ago, she, too, determined to embrace it.

•••

Imagine you are young and in love. Something, anything, it does not matter what, destroys that affection. You weep, you plead, you separate, you never see each other again, you suffer, you heal, you go on. But suppose through circumstance you are forced to see each other almost every day. You work together, share meals together and to fulfill your duties, must often communicate together. Can you picture a more exquisite torture? Try it another way. Think of what you want most in life. Hold it in your mind’s eye. Place it close by, but just out of reach. Is the image there before you? Now, deny yourself the chance of ever having it.

For six years I had tried to learn to see Livia with dispassionate eyes. Hopeless. I don’t think she hated me; but those first looks of enchantment had clouded over with cataracts of repudiation. I lived in a purgatory of my own making.

Tertulla had convinced Crassus, in order to restore the tranquility of the house, he must send Ludovicus to another posting. She suggested that Livia and I also be parted, but he would not hear of it. There was no possibility that I would be sent away, this Tertulla understood. As for Livia, while
dominus
was a faithful and loving husband, he had an appreciation for beauty in all its forms. Livia, too, must remain within his sight.

I made inquiries to the mine several times a year, and without advising either Crassus or Livia, sent a monthly bribe from my own accounts to the mine manager. As far as I knew Sabina was alive and spared the most brutal travails of that hideous place. But I had no way to know for certain how she fared.

I did not revile myself for the actions that had destroyed the only love that had ever found me, but neither did I give myself any peace about it. Sabina had murdered Tessa, of that there was no doubt. But if I had listened more carefully, been a better friend, recognized the signs of her jealousy, I might have been able to influence that awful outcome.

•••

The day Ludovicus 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.

Now, I remember him thusly—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 her towel on the couch. “Have you forgotten, Marcus? That business with the healer ... Livia’s mother?”

“Curse me for a Cretan. Apologies, Alexander. This aged soldier’s memory is flagging.”

It was impossible to make myself invisible when they kept talking to me, but I stared straight ahead, trying to look through rather than at the dimples above Tertulla’s hips as she descended the three steps into the lightly steaming water. “That’s why you married a girl fifteen years your junior,” she said, wading waist-deep to the statue of Venus in the center of the pool. “Come along then, old man.”

Crassus dropped his towel, stepped into the pool and crossed the ten foot radius to join Tertulla on the submerged marble bench that encircled the statue. “Now, where was I?” he mused. “At my age, the memory starts to go.”

“So you’ve said. Just now. Let’s see, you were about to say something that has absolutely nothing to do with politics, I believe.”

“Was I? That can’t be right. I’m sure it was about politics.”

Tertulla reached across his chest with her left hand and pinched his right nipple between her thumb and forefinger. Crassus flinched but managed to say, “Yes, I’m positive I had more to say of a political nature.”

“Go on, then. I give up,” she said, releasing him. As soon as he began to talk, she slid beneath the surface and stayed there, holding her breath.

When she burst up again with a gasp and a shake of her short, black hair, spraying scented water in all directions, Crassus laughed and said, “That’s hardly fair! Remind me to pay you in kind next time you need to discuss your latest shopping excursion.”

“Point taken. I just thought we might relax this evening.”

“I
am
relaxed. All right, I admit I’ll relax
further
when Pompeius has made good on his promise to disband his army and retire from public life. Have I told you how much it is costing us to maintain our own legions just to keep him from marching into the capital?”

“Several times. And he wouldn’t dare.”

“Actually, you’re right, he wouldn’t, and he won’t.  Frankly, I don’t think my fellow consul has it in him to make a play for dictator. When we return to Rome next week, I will speak before the senate and to the people, and make a great show of amity and conciliation to the mighty Magnus.”

“Is that wise? You might encourage his ambition.”

“Pompeius is nothing if not vain. But in his heart, I believe his love of Rome will prevail. Or his fundamental lack of courage. And if he needs further persuading, there are many of us - plebeians, senators and I myself who have played upon his pride and flattered him with artful diplomacy. It’s his Achilles heel. I couldn’t tell you this earlier, but I met with him before we departed for Baiae. He asked me how it would stand with me if he were to accede to the people’s demand that he assume the dictatorship.”

“He didn’t!”

“He
did
. I wanted badly to admonish him that great generals do not necessarily make great emperors, but the matter required all my diplomacy and delicacy. I played upon his sense of history and his place in it – did he want to be remembered as the destroyer of the Republic?  Would he risk civil war to bask in a popularity so fickle a mediocre harvest or a whisper in the wrong ear could overturn it? I knew I had him then. But I kept on. I reminded him that now that he and I had swept away all the evil that Sulla had perpetrated on the government, did we not now have the best of all possible Romes? What could he accomplish as dictator which he had not already achieved as consul? Was he not rich enough? Powerful enough? Influential enough? He was the hero of the nation and his place of honor in Roman history was fixed for all time.

“I think I may have overdone it a little, for he accused me of wanting the crown for myself. After I contained my laughter, I told him, and it’s true enough, my world is perfect just as it is. I could have no greater joy than to continue the status quo ad infinitem.  And here is where I took the leap of faith I knew I would have to make to ensure the safety of the Republic.  If he had any doubt of my sincerity, I told him, I would prove my patriotism and my loyalty by disbanding my army unilaterally.”

“Marcus ...”

“I had to do it, love. And when we return to the city next week, I will make good on my promise.”

“No wonder you’ve seemed preoccupied ever since we arrived. I should have been more supportive.” 

Crassus chuckled.  “I can’t imagine how. Unless you can perform some kind of magic and cancel that picnic at Solfatara tomorrow.” 

“I will if you wish it. But I think we should take the waters. The fumes will do you good. Relax you.”

“I have no doubt. It’s the noxious gases spewing from the likes of Cicero, Lucullus and the others we came here to escape that I would rather not inhale.”