Page 36 of Brother at Arms

A small bowl that was heaped with dark-colored beans rested on the marble lip of the impluvium, the pool that was open to the sky to catch rainwater.

Livius held his hand out over the pool, and Junius poured clear water from his jug into Livius’s palms. Livius rubbed the water all over his hands then shook off the excess. Junius set down the jug and handed him the bean bowl.

Livius cradled this in one hand and began to stalk through the atrium in slow strides. He dug into the dried beans and tossed a handful behind him.

“Ancestral spirits, be appeased by our offering. If malevolent spirits be here, go now.” Livius flung another handful over his shoulder, and beans clattered to the tiled floor.

Junius followed as Livius walked to the tablinum, repeating the ritual and the words. Livius then moved along the length of the house, entering every room, tossing beans over his shoulder and imploring any restless spirits to be calm or flee.

We waited in the atrium, hearing Livius’s footsteps and chants recede as he took the staircase to the upper floor, Junius on his heels.

Even after last evening’s large meal, I was hungry, and my stomach rumbled loudly in the stillness. This earned me disparaging looks but a sympathetic one from Cassia.

After what seemed a long time, we heard Livius’s chants again as he emerged from the upper rooms, descended the stairs, and walked solemnly to the impluvium, his feet scattering the beans he’d strewn about.

Junius lifted another jug and poured its water over Livius’s hands. Livius rubbed his fingers together as before and shook out the excess into his pool.

Then Livius faced us, and said, “It is done. Breakfast?”

As hungry as I was, I wanted to speak with Cassia privately, but Livius gave me no choice.

He waved me toward the peristyle, where we were greeted with cool morning air and a table set for a repast. Cassia disappeared with the other servants.

I readily ate the meal of more dark fava beans, cooked and mashed, and fresh-baked bread with honey. Because this was a wealthy household, I doubted the servants had swept up the beans Livius had tossed around and cooked them, but they did bring us glasses of the cold spring water left over from the ritual.

“None of my ancestors or anyone else’s ever lived in this house,” Livius said as Junius served us. “I had it built when I moved to this hill, so it’s very new. But Lemuria must be kept, mustn’t it? And who knows who lived in whatever house or hut on this spot in the past? Any ancestors of theirs and any evil spirits who decided to take up residence have been acknowledged. We can walk without fear in our house for another year.”

“I must do the ritual in my own home,” I said. “Though it will not take me as long.”

Livius acknowledged this with a grin. “You can always make me laugh, Leonidas. Yes, you must perform your task as head of household, but Cassia can stay here as long as she wishes. We can keep her safe.”

“I agree.” I did not trust Arsakes entirely—he might decide to use Cassia to make certain I did what I said I’d do. “But I need to speak with her.”

“Of course. Junius, will you find Cassia and ask her to come to the garden?”

“Alone.” I did not wish to offend Livius, who was more generous than he needed to be, but I also did not want him to know all of my business.

“As you please.” Livius did not seem affronted by my statement. “It is a lovely morning. She will enjoy a walk in the outer gardens.”

Junius had already departed with the summons, and Livius and I both rose as Cassia returned with him. She was as neatly garbed and coiffed as she’d been at the ritual, the gold earrings glistening against her dark hair.

Livius greeted her cordially, and Cassia’s reply was just as cordial. I was the lout who shifted impatiently, waiting for them to finish the polite give-and-take so I could lead Cassia outside.

We exited the peristyle through a small door that led to the vast space without.

Livius’s gardens were truly grand. He owned a large part of the top of the Oppian, which he’d covered with greenery that stretched behind his home. Half of the gardens were given over to growing vegetables and fruits, so Livius could always enjoy fresh produce. The other half had been cultivated with trees, shrubs, flowers, and lawns for Livius’s pleasure.

A shaded perambulatory stretched along the edge of the hill, giving a view over the valley between the Oppian and Palatine hills. Nero’s ambitious Domus Transitoria, creeping ever further across the Palatine, gleamed in the morning sunlight.

I could see, on the Palatine, mechanical cranes heaving blocks high into the air. I spied the small figures of workers guiding the stones into place or climbing scaffolding, the construction continuing despite Lemuria being a holiday. No one halted the everyday labor of slaves and freedmen.

Two of Livius’s bodyguards placed themselves at the end of the walkway, but they did not follow us as we strolled to its far curve. At least, Cassia strolled. I stomped out of earshot of the bodyguards and waited impatiently for Cassia to catch up to me.

“Are you all right, Leonidas?” she asked before I could speak. “I heard from the upstairs servants that you were restless all night, calling out in your sleep.”

“Bad dreams.” I’d managed to banish them when I woke, but now the combat with Xerxes rushed back at me. My hands trembled at the memory of his hot blood on them.

Cassia’s gentle touch on my arm made my eyes snap open. I hadn’t realized I’d closed them.