contents of a small wooden box, then turned to Lydia with a handful of coins. “Here, take these. I want you to go to the market and make some purchases for me.”
Lydia let her drop the coins into her palm but shook her head. “I have not left this house since arriving, my lady. I would not know where—”
Octavia waved a hand. “It doesn’t matter how long it takes you. There is time to get lost and explore the city if you like. Here, I shall make you a list.”
“I . . . I should not wish to leave you, if you are still feeling the darkness, my lady.”
Octavia sighed. “Just to hear your concern lifts my spirits, Lydia. Perhaps you can convince me that there is value still in this life. But not today.”
Minutes later, armed with nothing more than a scrap of papyrus scrawled with Octavia’s demands and a pouch of heavy coins, Lydia crossed the courtyard, biting her lip.
The freedom to explore Rome was a wondrous gift, but she would prefer to watch over Octavia. And Lydia had no idea where to begin, nor what areas would be unsafe to roam.
“Stealing away for a secret tryst, are we?”
Lydia peered around a leafy palm to the voice hidden in the shadows.
Varius appeared, his teasing smile falling on her.
“What? No! No . . . I . . . Octavia asked me to make some purchases for her.” Why did she always sound like a child when she spoke with him?
Varius emerged from the portico and drew closer. “She has come to rely on you thoroughly, I see. And so soon. But I am not surprised. You have that effect on people everywhere, I would guess.”
Lydia ducked her head and toyed with the silk pouch.
“Where is the slave she has tasked to accompany you? Surely you are not going alone?”
A slave. That would have been a logical request.
At her hesitation, Varius took her arm in his. “Your humble servant, then, my lady.”
“No . . . no, thank you, Varius. That is not necessary.”
But Varius would not be dissuaded. He insisted first on a walk under the lofty pines of the Palatine to look over the Circus Maximus in the valley below.
He drew close, so her gaze traveled the length of his raised arm to where he pointed. “There at the end is where the chariots emerge.” His voice was low, a murmur against her ear, as if the telling were a secret. “It is the most thrilling thing you could imagine. All those thousands in the seats, screaming for their favorites.”
He lowered his arm and shifted to stand almost behind her, his hand resting lightly on her hip. “Close your eyes. I will help you see it.”
She obeyed, and his lyrical voice filled her senses.
“It is like a festival and a banquet and a war, melded into one great spectacle of glorious color and heat. The deafening crush of the crowd, a sea of white togas striped in all the colors of the Republic, raised fists, perfumed air, the sand churning underchariot wheels, black horses sheened with sweat, and the walls and wheels of golden chariots glinting like a dozen eyes in the bright, bright sun.”
Lydia inhaled deeply, the sharp scent of the pines mixing with the imagined smell of sweat and glory, raising the hair on her arms.
Varius still whispered in her ear. “There is blood and beauty, death and victory, all of it in one place, in one day, for everyone to feel. You would weep and you would laugh to see it, Lydia.”
She nearly did both with only the imagining.
“Come.” Varius woke her from his spell and pulled her away from the lip of the hill. “It grows late and the sun will be falling into the west before your purchases are made.”
She turned from the Circus Maximus, not a little breathless. If the chariot-racing stadium was such as he described, what must the famed theaters built for gladiator fights and the battles of wild beasts be like? Would she be in Rome long enough to witness such?
On the other side of the Palatine Hill, the valley below held the magnificent Forum, the heart of Rome. It stretched into the distance
Lydia let her drop the coins into her palm but shook her head. “I have not left this house since arriving, my lady. I would not know where—”
Octavia waved a hand. “It doesn’t matter how long it takes you. There is time to get lost and explore the city if you like. Here, I shall make you a list.”
“I . . . I should not wish to leave you, if you are still feeling the darkness, my lady.”
Octavia sighed. “Just to hear your concern lifts my spirits, Lydia. Perhaps you can convince me that there is value still in this life. But not today.”
Minutes later, armed with nothing more than a scrap of papyrus scrawled with Octavia’s demands and a pouch of heavy coins, Lydia crossed the courtyard, biting her lip.
The freedom to explore Rome was a wondrous gift, but she would prefer to watch over Octavia. And Lydia had no idea where to begin, nor what areas would be unsafe to roam.
“Stealing away for a secret tryst, are we?”
Lydia peered around a leafy palm to the voice hidden in the shadows.
Varius appeared, his teasing smile falling on her.
“What? No! No . . . I . . . Octavia asked me to make some purchases for her.” Why did she always sound like a child when she spoke with him?
Varius emerged from the portico and drew closer. “She has come to rely on you thoroughly, I see. And so soon. But I am not surprised. You have that effect on people everywhere, I would guess.”
Lydia ducked her head and toyed with the silk pouch.
“Where is the slave she has tasked to accompany you? Surely you are not going alone?”
A slave. That would have been a logical request.
At her hesitation, Varius took her arm in his. “Your humble servant, then, my lady.”
“No . . . no, thank you, Varius. That is not necessary.”
But Varius would not be dissuaded. He insisted first on a walk under the lofty pines of the Palatine to look over the Circus Maximus in the valley below.
He drew close, so her gaze traveled the length of his raised arm to where he pointed. “There at the end is where the chariots emerge.” His voice was low, a murmur against her ear, as if the telling were a secret. “It is the most thrilling thing you could imagine. All those thousands in the seats, screaming for their favorites.”
He lowered his arm and shifted to stand almost behind her, his hand resting lightly on her hip. “Close your eyes. I will help you see it.”
She obeyed, and his lyrical voice filled her senses.
“It is like a festival and a banquet and a war, melded into one great spectacle of glorious color and heat. The deafening crush of the crowd, a sea of white togas striped in all the colors of the Republic, raised fists, perfumed air, the sand churning underchariot wheels, black horses sheened with sweat, and the walls and wheels of golden chariots glinting like a dozen eyes in the bright, bright sun.”
Lydia inhaled deeply, the sharp scent of the pines mixing with the imagined smell of sweat and glory, raising the hair on her arms.
Varius still whispered in her ear. “There is blood and beauty, death and victory, all of it in one place, in one day, for everyone to feel. You would weep and you would laugh to see it, Lydia.”
She nearly did both with only the imagining.
“Come.” Varius woke her from his spell and pulled her away from the lip of the hill. “It grows late and the sun will be falling into the west before your purchases are made.”
She turned from the Circus Maximus, not a little breathless. If the chariot-racing stadium was such as he described, what must the famed theaters built for gladiator fights and the battles of wild beasts be like? Would she be in Rome long enough to witness such?
On the other side of the Palatine Hill, the valley below held the magnificent Forum, the heart of Rome. It stretched into the distance
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