David Drake - Out of the waters

She lowered the container and looked around the servants. "Go on about your business," she said brusquely. "Have you never had a bad dream yourselves?"

She lifted the ewer, then paused. "One of you bring more wine," she said. "A jar of it. The same Caecuban."

It was a strong vintage. The alcohol didn't so much sooth her throat as numb it after a moment of stinging.

Servants shuffled out, briefly crowding in the doorway. The ones who remained had probably been afraid to call attention to themselves by ducking away sooner.

Hedia poured the remaining contents of the ewer into the cup. She thought of adding water this time but decided not to. By now it wouldn't shock any of them that Lady Hedia sometimes drank her wine unmixed.

"Your Ladyship…?" Syra whispered. She didn't know what to do.

Hedia lowered the cup. She had been holding it in both hands as she drank, because her arms were trembling.

"As soon as the jar of wine arrives," Hedia said. "Which had better be soon. When it does, you can go back to bed. I may sit up for a little."

Until I've drunk enough to dull the memory of that dream.

"I'll stay up too, your Ladyship," Syra said. "In case you need something."

The girl wouldn't be able to sleep either, Hedia supposed. Awake, she wouldn't have to worry that her mistress might strangle her in a fit of madness.

"Yes, all right," Hedia said.

She looked about her, suddenly aware of what had escaped her earlier in her fear. The walls of this room were frescoed with images of stage fronts: heavy facades above which stretched high, spindly towers. Hedia had had the suite redecorated when she married Saxa: her immediate predecessor had preferred paintings of plump children riding bunnies and long-tailed birds in a garden setting.

The room from which Hedia had dreamed her descent to the Underworld had been her bedroom also, but not this bedroom. The walls there were dark red, separated into panels by gold borders; in the center of each panel was a tiny image of a god or goddess identified by its attribute. Hercules carried his club, but adjacent to him Priapus gripped with both hands a phallus heavier than that club…

That had been her bedroom when she was married to Latus, in the house facing the Campus Martius. She had sold the property when Latus died.

There was a bustle in the hall. Syra took a jar of wine from another servant, then brought it in and refilled the ewer.

Why did my nightmare show me Latus' house?

It wasn't an answer, but at least she was beginning to formulate the questions.

David Drake

Out of the Waters-ARC

Alphena had allowed her stepmother to choose her garments for the outing: a tunic of fine wool, cut much longer-and so more ladylike-than Alphena preferred, with a shoulder-length cape which was quite unnecessary in this weather. She also wore earrings, bracelets, and a high comb, all of silver but decorated with granulated gold.

The one place that Alphena had refused to give in was her footgear. Instead of delicate silken slippers, she wore sensible sandals with thick soles and straps that weren't going to snap if she suddenly had to run. She didn't expect to run-she couldn't imagine any circumstances in which that would be necessary-but she would not wear flimsy shoes.

Instead of arguing, Hedia had nodded and said, "Very well," in a calm voice. She had sounded rather like a nurse telling her three-year-old charge that she could bring along all six of her dollies when they walked down to the river to watch barges from Ostia unloading their cargoes of grain.

In the entrance hall, Alphena turned to Florina and said, "I won't be needing you. Stay here and do whatever you like till we come back"

"I believe, your ladyship," said Agrippinus, "that it would be better if Florina accompanied you."

Alphena snapped her head around to face the major domo. He froze; so did everyone else in the hall, which was still crowded even though Saxa had left for the Senate with his lictors and general entourage.

But Alphena froze also. "Thank you for your concern, my man," she said, choosing the words carefully. That wasn't the sort of thing she was used to saying, but she was determined to learn not to scream abuse whenever somebody tried to direct her. "I believe that mother's staff will be able to care for me adequately, should the need arise."

She even smiled. It wasn't a very nice smile, she knew, but she wasn't feeling very nice.

"As your ladyship wishes," said Agrippinus, bowing low enough that he no longer met her eyes. He held the obsequious pose until she turned away.

Feeling both virtuous-because she hadn't raised her voice-and triumphant-because she had gotten her way nonetheless-Alphena stepped through the jaws of the entrance and into the street. Servants milled there. Saxa's still larger entourage of lictors, servants, and clients, was turning into the Argiletum on their way to the forum and the meeting of the Senate in the Temple of Venus.

The double litter had arrived from the warehouse on the Tiber where it was stored. Its frame was inlaid with burl and ivory; its curtains were layered Egyptian linen; and the upholstery inside was silk brocade.

The litter's weight required four trained men to carry it and four more to trade off with the original team at regular intervals to prevent fatigue-and therefore possible accidents to the wealthy passengers. Agrippinus had bought eight matched Cappadocian bearers along with the vehicle itself, all at Alphena's order.

Though she had demanded the double litter as an angry whim, it had proven very useful now that she and her stepmother had become one another's confidante: they could speak while travelling in as much privacy as anyone in Carce was able to claim. Only the foreman of the Cappadocians spoke Latin, and even then the bearers' deep breathing and the rhythmic slap of their clogs effectively prevented them from listening to those within the vehicle.

Candidus was in charge of the entourage. He minced unctuously toward Alphena and bowed. "Everything is in order, your ladyship," he said. "I sent a courier to the warehouse myself to be sure that the vehicle would be here at the third hour, as Lady Hedia ordered. Manetho was supposed to have done it, but for your ladyships' comfort I thought it well to make sure."

Hedia swept through the doorway, turning the facade of Saxa's townhouse into a setting for her jewel-like beauty. She was so stunning and perfect that Alphena's breath caught in her throat.

Not long ago she would have been furious at her stepmother for being, well, what Alphena herself was not. Now, she just accepted it as a reality of life, like the fact that she would never be Emperor.

Reality wasn't a wholly one-sided thing, of course. She would never be teasing some other woman's hair, in constant fear of a slap or a slashing blow with the comb, the way Florina did daily. And there were women less fortunate than Florina.

"You're looking well, daughter," Hedia said, touching the pendant in Alphena's left ear. "You have flecks of gold in your eyes, and these bring it out. Your eyes are one of your best features, you know."

Alphena felt her jaw go slack if not exactly drop. "I didn't…," she said. Then, "I do? I-thank you, mother."

"Let's get started, shall we?" Hedia said in her breezy, pleasant voice. She gestured Alphena toward the litter.

She hadn't bothered to ask whether it was ready. Either she had seen that it was-though the bearers weren't gripping their poles yet-or she assumed that it would be, because the servants were terrified not to have accomplished whatever Lady Hedia expected them to have done.

"After you, mother," Alphena said, mirroring Hedia's gesture.

Laughing, the older woman mounted the vehicle, placing herself on the front cushion. She moved as gracefully as a cat, or a snake.