Pompeii Fire, page 8
On the way out the door, Stephanus took it into his head that the slave was to blame for his poor reception and struck him repeatedly. The poor man’s eye was swelling shut when he joined the others to pick up the litter and carry their master home.
🌋
As soon as they were gone, Drusilla tried to give the bundle to Julia Felix. “Make something for yourself with this; I have no need use for it.”
“These are valuable fabrics,” Julia replied. “You should put them away; you never know when they might be of use.”
“Yes, but Stephanus forced them on me. I don’t want him or his gifts.”
Drusilla returned to her apartments and dumped the costly material unceremoniously into a chest. She went back out to the peristyle, where she and Claudia had been talking before Stephanus arrived.
“He gave me dress material in wool and silk,” Drusilla announced as she dropped onto the bench next to her friend. “And then he had the audacity to talk of a match between us! As I told your mother, I want neither Stephanus nor his gifts.”
“I envy you. When Nicia courted me, he gave me nothing as fine as that. Besides, Stephanus came himself; he might have just sent a slave. He must truly love you.”
“If you want the materials, Claudia, they are yours.” Drusilla pinched the bridge of her nose. “Stephanus makes my head ache. And I don’t think that he loves me at all. He thinks that his wealth can buy anything; I’m no different from a slave, a chair, or a jar of garum, so far as he’s concerned.”
Claudia put her arm around her friend and hugged her. “I will take them in trade for the blue-green silk I bought; the color would suit you well. Let us take the fabrics to my home, and get a swatch of the silk. My woman can make you up a dress, perhaps in the Grecian style. We can go to the marketplace and buy some fibulae; the swatch will help us decide which ones look best."
🌋
The jeweler’s booth was hardly doing any business when the two women entered, followed by Felix with his mistress’ shopping basket and money pouch. Drusilla looked at the various pins on offer, but nothing caught her fancy. However, she did see a set of blue beaded earrings and matching necklace that she liked.
“Faience, all the way from Egypt, domina,” the jeweler informed her. “You have an exceptional eye.”
“We’ll take those,” Claudia said. “Please wrap them up.”
🌋
From across the forum, Suetonius saw Drusilla in the jeweler’s booth. He hurried around the marble gate into the macellum, catching up just as the group were leaving with their purchases.
“Ave, domina.”
“Ave, Magister.”
“Felix, I think we should consider a visit to the weaver...” Claudia began.
“Oh yes, domina. But the nearer one, you know ...”
“Those two are not even subtle,” Drusilla said as her friend went down the way to look at woolens that would be out of season soon.
“Hardly.” Suetonius smiled. “Still, I am glad for a moment to speak. What brings you to market today?”
Drusilla showed him the swatch of silk. “Claudia’s woman is going to make me a dress, but I need pins for the shoulders. I haven’t found any that I like yet.”
“If you will permit me,” Suetonius put his hand on Drusilla’s waist and guided her into a different jewelers’ booth. “I saw some brooches here just the other day that may suit.”
Indeed, the counters were filled with beautifully enameled metalwork, and Drusilla found a pair of brooches that she deemed perfect: golden peacocks with sapphire eyes and elaborately enameled tail feathers.
The jeweler named his price, which Drusilla realized was too dear for her pocketbook. Accepting the beads from Claudia was one thing, but she couldn’t ask this of her friend.
Suetonius, for his part, opened his purse and put the requested number of sesterces on the counter without batting an eye.
"The peacock, domina, is beloved of both Juno and Venus. I can imagine no more appropriate adornment for a woman of your intelligence and beauty. Please accept them as a gift from me.”
The jeweler handed Suetonius two leather bags, each containing one of the pins.
“It would be my honor, Magister.”
Outside the booth, Claudia and Felix watched as Suetonius feathered a kiss across Drusilla’s brow before coming to meet them. He put the two pouches in Felix’ basket.
“Let me walk with you until you reach home. I would not want the precious cargo, or its owners, to come to any harm.”
Claudia and Felix could only smile, and by unspoken agreement walked a few paces behind the young couple so that they could speak in private.
🌋
That evening, Drusilla and Felix sat in the highest rows of the theater. She could see Suetonius several rows below her, with the other freedmen. Stephanus was nowhere to be seen; he did not share Drusilla’s love of intellectual pursuits.
After the performance was over, Suetonius waited for Drusilla. Felix found an excuse to walk several feet away from the two as they spoke. They walked the short distance to the quadriporticus, where Suetonius would sleep in his lonely cell.
“I do not have the words to describe how I feel for you,” Drusilla confessed after he kissed her again. “You are awakening things in me that I have never known.”
“You are well and truly becoming a woman before my eyes, my princess.” He caressed her face gently. “And you make me want to be a better man. I believe that Venus Pompeiia has brought us together, and her son Cupid has nicked us both with his arrow.”
He brought his lips to hers once again. “Your slave is waiting to see you safely home, my beloved. We will see each other on the morrow.”
Chapter 26
Pompeii
One day after the Ides of March, 79 CE
Bacchanalia
The day of the games dawned warm and clear. Drusilla and Claudia sat in the highest row of the amphitheater, along with all of the other women of Pompeii and their household slaves. The awnings were pulled up to shade the ladies from the unseasonable sun, and food vendors walked through with offerings of wine, water, and snacks. Claudia wore a new dress and palla made from the material Drusilla gave her. Drusilla was resplendent in her silk dress, the peacock brooches holding it at the shoulder and a golden cord nipping in the waist. The faience beads and earrings completed her ensemble. Her hair was held back from her face with blue enameled combs, a cascade of curls streaming down her back.
The program began first thing in the morning, with some chariot battles and a couple of female gladiators fighting each other. There were no executions that day, so after a lengthy break the musicians, referees, and gladiators came through the gate. Stephanus, in the editor’s box, accepted all of the combatant’s salutes. Ten pairs were fighting, according to the program, in various styles.
Over all the crowd noise, Drusilla heard the only name she cared about “Britannicus Librus versus Vercingetorix.”
Drusilla recognized Suetonius by his Thracian armor; they were at the far end of the field from her and it wasn’t easy to see him. His opponent was a murmillo, another heavyweight gladiator.
Claudia grasped Drusilla’s hand. “Surely not. The two are great friends.”
“What makes you say that?”
“Because I’ve been seeing Vercingetorix whenever I get the chance. We talk.”
“You and I will talk later,” Drusilla responded, then turned her attention back to the arena.
Both men drew blood, but soon the murmillo was down and did not get back up again until the referee stopped the bout and Suetonius helped Vercingetorix to his feet. Drusilla saw the murmillo lift a finger toward the editor’s box; Stephanus took his time but gestured for mercy. Suetonius received the victor’s laurel, and helped the other man limp out through the gate.
🌋
After the cornu signaled the next event, with animals fighting one another, Drusilla excused herself and left the arena. This was the part of the program that her soft heart could not tolerate. Stephanus came down from the editor’s box, and interrupted her as she tried to leave.
“You look very beautiful today, Drusilla. Might I ask why you do not have a new dress, though? I gave you silk and wool.”
“On the contrary, Uncle. The dress and jewelry are entirely new. The silk and beads were a gift from my foster sister, Claudia. I gave your material to her in gratitude; as you may know, she has a neglectful husband.”
Stephanus took hold of Drusilla’s upper arm and squeezed. “Those fabrics were a gift to you.”
“Yes, and since they were mine, I did with them as I pleased.”
“You have not accepted my invitation to sit at my side during the banquet tonight, either. Why is that?”
“I am feeling indisposed and will not be in attendance. Why do you think I’m leaving the games?”
Stephanus leaned closer and growled into her ear. “Your ingratitude angers me, Drusilla. Remember, your father is in my debt.”
“Let go of me, Stephanus. I am not yours to command.”
Drusilla yanked her arm away, and turned her back on the gaping Stephanus. She crossed the street and met Suetonius in the palaestra. He dropped his helmet and gear on the back of a wagon, collected a cup of foul-looking posca mixed with ash, and gestured for Drusilla to follow him. They walked away from the gathered vendors, other gladiators, and prostitutes. They stood next to the swimming pool as Suetonius gulped down the drink; the noise of the water would make it difficult for others to hear their conversation.
“You look beautiful, Drusilla. I am honored that you wore the brooches today.” He took her hand and dropped a respectful kiss on her knuckles.
Drusilla shivered at the sensation, then cleared her throat. The time had come for unmaidenly boldness.
“You must come to the praedia this afternoon, Suetonius. I have arranged for us to have the baths to ourselves, so that you may bathe and I may dress your wounds in myrrh.”
“Drusilla, this is a dangerous game for you to play. There is still time for you to change your mind.” Suetonius swiped his arm across his eyes to clear the sweat away.
“I am not playing, Suetonius. I made a promise to the gods, after all. My prayer was answered.” She laid her hand on his upper arm. “Besides, I want to do this with you.”
“I will be there within the half hour, then. Kiss me, my princess, and let me count the minutes.”
Drusilla did as he asked and took the short walk back to the praedia. On the way, she bought a small drinking glass commemorating the bout she had just witnessed; the vendor created images of Britannicus L. besting Vercingetorix by adding names to pre-painted images showing a Thracian beating a murmillo. She would put it on her altar next to the lares, in gratitude for hearing her prayers.
🌋
Drusilla had paid Felix to make sure she would have the praedia’s bath complex to herself. The massage table was draped with clean coverings, and the various balms and oils organized for ready access. The frigidarium and caldarium were both clean, and fresh water filled them at appropriate temperatures.
Drusilla changed her silken gown for a pale blue linen tunic that came down to her ankles. On her feet were delicate sandals, decorated with blue stones. She took the combs from her hair so that it fell loose over her shoulders. She paced the floor, wringing her hands as she considered what she’d set in motion. While she had no doubts, she knew that a thing done could not be undone. She’d set her sights on a man who was a former slave, whose profession was universally looked down upon ... and somehow none of that mattered.
Felix tapped at the door. “Britannicus has arrived.”
He stepped back and the gladiator entered the room. Felix slid the wooden screen shut behind him, and the two were alone.
Suetonius didn’t speak; he merely held Drusilla’s gaze as he stripped off a wine-red tunic and dropped it on a nearby bench. Every scrape and cut from his bout was displayed on a body that would have inspired a sculptor and, perhaps, stirred envy in the gods.
“I ask you again, Drusilla, are you sure of what you want?”
“More sure than I have been of anything in my lifetime.”
She opened a jar of myrrh unguent, rubbing it gently over his his injuries. Suetonius’ eyelids fluttered as she stroked his body, the ointment easing his pains.
“Please, lie down here.” She indicated the table, as she switched to a bottle of lime-scented oil. Her touch alternated between firmness and feather-light, and now and again she would drop a kiss on some muscle or other.
Next, the strigil, scraping off the sweat and any remaining soil. He stood then, proud and tall, as Drusilla continued with her caresses.
“Join me in the tub,” he whispered. “I want to see all of you.”
Drusilla took off her tunic and undergarments and he helped her into the water. “Sit on the edge,” he whispered. It was there that he set his mouth to her plucked, bare sex. Suetonius used his tongue to tickle, tease and stroke, his hands firmly on her bottom so that she didn’t slip.
“You are as sweet as honey, Drusilla. Maybe I should call you Meilichia ...” He then kissed his way up her abdomen until he reached her breasts, where her nipples received the same treatment.
Then, he brought her up against the marble wall, the coolness of the stone contrasting with the heat of the water and his body. He parted her thighs, and slid his manhood between them, encountering a brief resistance before he was all the way in. Drusilla winced a little.
“Would that this were a Tyrrhenian bed instead of a bath house; you deserve more,” he whispered, his breath warm upon her ear. “The pain is brief, princess, but I promise you pleasure afterward.”
Suetonius was as good as his word. He kissed her neck and throat, holding her firmly against the wall as he stroked in and out of her wetness. He tangled his fingers in Drusilla’s hair, growling his pleasure in her ear.
“I ... don’t understand what I’m feeling,” she groaned. “But I don’t want you to stop.”
“Ah, my Drusilla Meilichia ... “ He shuddered as her muscles tightened around him, both of them deep in pleasure.
He helped her back down into the tub. “I fear I will have to use the ointment again for you,” she whispered.
“It was worth every moment.” He leaned back. “I should write to your father, and proffer myself as a suitor.”
“It is not necessary.”
“Ah, but it is. I think I have been halfway in love with you since I first saw you.”
“I confess, I feel the same way. Still, we barely know one another.”
“And yet, you sacrificed your maidenhood to Mars for me. Come, Drusilla. Life is short and cruel. Marry me, before your father gives you to someone else.”
“I thought gladiators couldn’t marry freeborn women ...”
“I’m a free man and the magister. I can marry where I please. And it is you who pleases me. Say yes.”
“Yes, Marcus, I will.” It was the first time she’d used his praenomen.
“My Drusilla.” He claimed her mouth with his.
Their kiss was interrupted as Claudia came in from the public entrance to the baths; she held the key to the door in her hand. “You must hurry out this way, Britannicus. We are now in a state of emergency.”
Suetonius slipped his tunic over his head and tied his sandals.
“What is happening, Claudia?” Drusilla pulled a wrap around herself.
“Your father has returned from Herculaneum, and he is in the tablinum with my mother right now. I’ve told him you’re in the bath, but I don’t think he’ll wait for long.”
Suetonius kissed Drusilla again. “I will speak to your father.”
“Not yet,” Claudia said. “He also has Stephanus the fuller with him, and the two are talking of marriage. Drusilla has to talk to him first and convince him not to accept Stephanus’ suit. Then she can tell him she has promised herself to another. You have, haven’t you?”
“Yes, Claudia,” Drusilla replied. “And thank you.”
Suetonius gave a grim nod and walked out the side door, just seconds before the main inside door opened to admit Drusus while Drusilla hurriedly wrapped herself in the sheet she’d set aside for her lover. Felix stood behind him, looking miserable.
“Daughter, you have become lazy to be at the bath so long. Why is that?”
“She is sore from her courses, Drusus. I had her soak in the tub and was going to rub her back with myrrh.” Claudia forestalled anything else Drusilla might have said.
“Your friend is kind, daughter. Surely you have slaves for that? Never mind that for now. Dress yourself in your finest, and come to greet your father. I have great news for you.”
“As I do for you, Father. Shall we meet in the garden shortly?”
“That will be perfect. Thank you.” Drusus turned on his heel as the two young women closed the opened jars and bottles.
🌋
When Drusilla had put on a fresh tunic and re-arranged her hair in a simple braid, she met her father in the courtyard. They sat side by side on the same bench where she had kissed Suetonius for the first time, and watched the fish cavort in the canal.
“I am sorry to have missed the games earlier today; I am told that there were several spectacular fights. You were only four years old when Spiculus bested Aptonetus Librus. That was something to see. Of course, you were at home with your mother.” Drusus smiled at the memory. “But that is not what I wished to speak with you about. I have found a rental house for us here in town, thanks to Stephanus. As you know, he has been a great friend to me since your mother’s passing. I will arrange to have your things moved out of the praedia in the coming days.”
“As you wish, Father. I am glad that Uncle Stephanus has been such a help to you.”
Drusus turned to face his daughter. “It cannot have escaped your notice, my daughter, that you have long since passed the age when most girls are married and have children of their own.”
“While that is true, Father, I don’t think that will be the case for much longer. I am glad to speak with you, for I have a suitor.”
