Kelli Stanley - Nox Dormienda

A loud clang from the kitchen startled me. Just Venutius, whistling and clanging and preparing more food, and I hoped to God it wasn’t more roasted eggs. I massaged the knot in my forehead.

My eyes landed on the Lararium huddled in the corner, shivering from neglect. If the protectors of the household decided to move out to plusher accommodations, I couldn’t blame them. I muttered a small, feeble prayer for forgiveness, and wiped the marble with my arm until the first level of grime was gone. The incense cup was full of ashes. When had I last made an offering? Why the hell did I avoid it? I forced the questions back down the hole they crawled out of. Focus. Focus on the Lares .

I brought some myrrh from the workroom and shoveled some charcoal from the hearth and carefully laid the incense on a red-orange ember. The sickly sweet smell started to waft upwards, and I stepped away, nearly gagging. Myrrh always had that effect on me, but that wasn’t the reason I didn’t come out here. I shoved that thought down the hole, too, and this time latched the cover. Time to turn the corner.

The chickens were scratching desultorily, but they weren’t sacred chickens and I didn’t believe in signs, anyway.

I played with Pyxis and her puppies and let them chew on me, which gave us all a little comfort. I closed the kennel gate, and walked back through the atrium.

The myrrh was still burning, a thin grey wisp spiraling into the heavy air. The hell with focusing. The hell with Agricola, the house, the Lares . I was shaken up inside like a small pair of dice in a too large cup-tossed by a drunk on a losing streak. Thirty-three years old, and still stupid. Trying to figure out just how stupid I was occupied the rest of my afternoon.

I was still trying to figure it out when I got hungry and came in to eat. Bilicho hadn’t returned, but Coir was back from the market. Venutius laid out a large bowl of surprisingly good leek soup, along with some coriander bread and hard cheese.

I motioned for Coir to sit with me. I’d seen statues less stiff, and she was avoiding my eyes. For a slave, she was giving a good imitation of a jealous woman.

“What did you find out?”

She kept her voice even.

“She’s a well-born lady. Her husband was on the council. Her father was, too, before he became crippled. No one expects him to live much longer.”

“Go on.”

“She’s to be married to some foreigner-some Easterner”, she said with distaste. “Some say there’s a man who won’t let it happen.”

“What man?”

We were both surprised by the tone of my voice.

“That they wouldn’t tell. A native. Someone in trouble, from the way they were talking. The lady spurned him, but he still loves her. She’s a fine one, all right. Giving herself Roman airs and such.”

“Did they say anything else useful?”

“Just that her family has money problems, like everybody else.” Her mouth was pinched. “She’s too proud for her own good.”

I chewed my lip until I noticed she was still there.

“Fetch Draco for me.”

She turned to go, then hesitated.

“Yes, Coir? What is it?”

“I was wondering-I was wondering-”

“Yes?”

“If you … if you’d need me later.”

We both knew what she meant. It would help her get over the jealousy tonight, but if she was getting too attached-and obviously she was-tomorrow would be worse. I always freed the girls eventually, but I’d just bought her. And she was too good in the examination room to get ruined by the bedroom.

I shook my head, and she left, her eyes lowered. I felt pretty noble about the sacrifice.

Draco interrupted me in the middle of self-congratulations. He was still eating a drumstick from the pheasant of this afternoon. Wiping his lips, he stuck it back in the fold of his tunic. “You wanted me, Dominus ?”

As bodyguards go, he was bigger than most. I was lucky Agricola worried about my hands, because I could never have afforded him. I could barely afford his feed bill.

“Bilicho isn’t back yet. Stay awake, and guard the door tonight. Call me immediately when he returns.” It was already after the first hour of night. I was starting to worry about him. And not only about him.

Draco drew himself up to his full height, and threw out his formidable chest. Incredibly, it looked like he’d outgrown his tunic again. Soon I’d start believing in two-headed calves.

“Yes, Master. Should I arm myself? Is there any danger?”

“No, don’t arm yourself. Just keep your eyes open.” The literalness was lost on him. “Remember-the instant he comes home.”

Draco bowed, and left me alone with thoughts that were too loud and too shrill for company. I decided to go to sleep early. The sun had already left for a cold dip in the Styx, but his work day was getting longer again. Maybe the worst of winter was over. Maybe this was nothing serious. Maybe Domitian really would make me Pontifex Maximus. Coir walked in as soon as I stood up.

“Brutius already lit the furnace, sir. Your bedroom should be warm. Would you like him to prepare the caldarium ?”

“No, not tonight. Take the lamp, will you, Coir?”

She followed me into the bedroom. The mattress was spread with a warm, green blanket. She stood by, her eyes focused on nothing, holding the lamp. The flame was casting a glow on her already ruddy skin. The hell with nobility. I could feel bad in the morning.

We were both drenched in sweat before I could sleep, and she must’ve left for her room as soon as I dozed off. All night long she’d been another woman. My dreams turned dark, and were running into familiar nightmare territory when the sight of Draco’s large, pock-marked nose inches above my face shocked me awake.

“Bilicho?”

“No, Master. But there is an official waiting for you in the examination room.”

I threw on a leather tunic and some trousers. Draco helped me into my outdoor boots. Bilicho should’ve been home by now. He was following Gwyna, and if she’d been telling the truth-what if she’d been attacked? What if he was hurt? What if they were both hurt?

I cinched my belt too hard and the pain helped me focus again. Bilicho was a professional. And the girl-I’d think about the girl later.

Draco was still trying to drape a cloak over me when I stepped into the hallway. From there, I could see a man in a muddied cloak, poised in front of the brazier, warming his hands. He looked up. I recognized Caecilius Avitus, one of Agricola’s best intelligence officers.

“There you are. Sorry to get you up, Favonianus.”

“What is it? Is Agricola all right?”

His black eyes roamed my face and Draco’s. “Yes, of course the governor’s all right. Something-something has happened, that’s all. I need your help.”

I studied Avitus for a few moments. His hair was grayer than I remembered, and I’d never noticed the scar on his right hand.

“Well, what is it? Is someone ill?”

Avitus stared at Draco and said nothing. I motioned for him to go, and he clomped out of sight with a worried look. The beneficarius turned toward me.

“This is a very delicate matter. Your absolute discretion and secrecy are required.”

“Of course.”

“Do not discuss this with anyone. Not even the governor.”

“I don’t think-”

“You will. It’s for his own protection.”

I’d heard one too many mysteries already. And his pompous manner gave me an itch.

“Stop speaking like a goddamn oracle and explain yourself. You know my record. I’ve handled touchy situations more than once.”

Avitus frowned and scraped his muddy boot on the floor. He didn’t want to be here, either. “That’s why I came to you. I need you as a doctor, and an-expert.”