Livius could not hide his joy. In the sedan chair, he thoroughly questioned the young orator.
"I'm exchanging experience," he summed up at the end of his account in a single sentence, explaining why he had visited the city.
Earlier he had told them that he had already traveled almost the entire Empire. He had been to Rome several times as well.
"You've become a wanderer of the world," Tullia observed gently.
"Something like that," Malricus agreed.
"I've heard that your villa rustica has become one of the finest wine-producing estates in the region."
Livius wanted to know everything about the young orator's family. Perhaps one day he would meet them as well.
"That's true. Merchants from distant lands ship my parents' wine far away."
"I'm glad to hear good news about you."
The young man was bored by this small talk. Still, he was pleased with his luck. He could be near Fvlvia.
At last I can wash the stain of shame from my family, he thought with satisfaction. The one my grandfather committed.
After all, the old man had once boarded a ship. He was never seen again. Perhaps he was lost at sea. All this happened before he could ever see his grandchildren.
Of course, to Livius and Tullia he said only that his grandfather had been caught in a storm at sea aboard a merchant ship and never returned.
At the villa, Livius of the gens Aemilius personally chose the most comfortable room and led the young man there. He placed Bato, one of the toughest servants, at Malricus's disposal.
"You'll stay as long as your affairs keep you in Rome," he said in farewell.
Bato stood there like a massive, obedient statue, waiting for instructions—perhaps for the young man to say he wished to rest.
Malricus asked for parchment, ink, and a pen. He hastily scribbled a few lines.
"Take this to Marcus. Hand him the letter and bring back my spare clothes."
As soon as he was alone, Tullia sent him a large platter of food. Malricus was somewhat tired, and that dulled his hunger—until he saw the delicacies. He hadn't eaten since night.
Until Bato returns, I'll lie down for a bit, he thought, full and growing drowsy.
At the forum he had used his strength to hypnotize the crowd, paying particular attention to Fvlvia.
Now he knew her name. They had introduced themselves briefly, then the two girls stepped into another sedan chair.
I hope I can continue playing with her mind over dinner.
The servant's return woke him from his nap. He had set down the items brought from Marcus with great care.
"Did he send a message? A letter?" Malricus asked curtly.
Bato shook his head, then blurted out anyway:
"He said you should be ashamed for leaving without a word."
Malricus was accustomed to Marcus's style. He only wanted to unsettle Bato.
"You should be ashamed for delivering such a message."
Bato did not feel ashamed. A message was a message. His duty was to deliver it, whether the recipient liked it or not. Since childhood he had stood many times in the slave market with his feet painted white. He had learned how to remain without emotion.
"The dominus also sent word," he continued calmly.
"Out with it."
"He said you'll dine at home tonight, and from tomorrow he'll introduce you into patrician circles."
Malricus flashed a broad grin.
"Well, that's not exactly a place one longs for!"
Bato was folding a stola. His hands froze midair. This nobleman was speaking familiarly with him. Of course—his grandfather had been a slave.
Malricus felt he had won Bato over in a single stroke.
You need an ally within the household, he thought with satisfaction.
When the servant finished arranging his clothes, Malricus dismissed him graciously.
"I won't need you anymore today. Go—sleep or revel."
But Bato went neither to sleep nor to revel.
♡
Malricus suddenly made up his mind. He would go to Corina after all. Receiving was a fine thing—especially from someone who expected nothing in return. He was glad he hadn't run into anyone in the villa.
Then, standing before it, he understood why.
The household was resting. Outraged servants were trying to scrape something off the villa wall—an inscription. Judging by their grimaces, someone had smeared it on with something vile.
VT FELLATE!
It still stood out vividly on the wall.
He remembered that as he walked toward the rostra, someone in the distance had shouted exactly that at another person.
"Ah, just a coincidence," he decided.
The servants paid no attention to his departure. Corina's villa was nearby.
When the ancilla led him into the tablinum, he was startled. The always cheerful, elegant woman seemed diminished. She sat there miserably, arms wrapped around her knees.
Perhaps her own power has rebounded on her, the young man wondered.
Corina—more precisely, Korinnae—was a demon who drained human vitality. Anyone who spent too long near her grew thin, fell ill, and died. That hadn't stopped her from marrying humans three times—and becoming a widow three times.
In a sad, colorless voice she offered him a seat.
"What happened, Korinnae?" Malricus asked, just to get the conversation started.
He wasn't particularly interested in her condition. If he didn't get what he wanted from her, she held no interest for him.
"Never call me by my old name again!" Corina snapped angrily.
"All right, Corina. What happened to you?"
He himself had never taken a human name. He didn't understand why she was angry.
"I fell in love. That's what happened, if you really care."
A maid brought a fragrant herbal drink sweetened with honey, dried fruits, and dulcia domestica. The young man drank only the refreshing beverage.
He needed to gather his thoughts. Shame had come upon Korinnae—she had fallen in love with a human.
"Then why didn't you leave him and let him live?" he asked at last, puzzled.
"He died in battle."
Then he learned that Corina mourned more deeply than a Roman matron. He spent only a short time with her. He hadn't come to speak of suffering and sorrow.
"I'm glad you visited me. I will return to the gods," the woman said in farewell.
Malricus didn't know what returning to the gods meant. He decided he would never visit Corina again.
He didn't feel like returning to the villa yet.
I could visit Thalvia, he considered for a few moments.
Then he remembered how the jealous demoness had followed him from city to city for two years, dragging him into serious trouble everywhere. He had barely managed to get rid of her.
Instead, he went to the forum. He wanted to browse the stalls—perhaps he would bring Tullia some small token.
"Well, well! There's the little one!"
He spotted Fvlvia from afar. She was browsing with another girl. He was pleased with his luck—he'd have a chance to talk to her. That meant the girl would soon be his.
By the time he reached them, the girls were heading toward a sedan chair. They were so absorbed in conversation that they didn't notice Malricus.
From one of the vendors he bought a beautifully decorated jewelry box, then returned to the villa.
♡
Fvlvia, of course, didn't come home for dinner again, so Malricus sat through a dinner that was exceedingly dull for him. Afterward, he sought out Bato.
It will be good to build his trust, he thought coldly.
The slave sat in his small sleeping alcove, copying texts onto parchment in the half-light.
Well, he's intelligent too, the young man thought.
He was about to move on silently when Bato noticed him and immediately set down his pen.
"Can I help you?" he asked kindly.
"First tell me exactly what you're doing."
"In the afternoons, Fvlvia has me copy poems," he replied evenly.
Malricus was pleased. Bato would be a useful intermediary between him and the patrician girl.
"Where might Fvlvia be?" he asked, feigning indifference.
"If you want to marry, you've chosen the wrong girl. Her parents promised her to someone long ago."
Malricus had no intention of marrying—he had other plans—but this fiancé could still be an obstacle. It annoyed him that Fvlvia was betrothed.
"The parents made the betrothal vow before the gods," the slave added.
Eh, the gods… no one has ever met them, Malricus thought.
He studied Bato's handwriting carefully. The letters were beautifully formed.
"Can I help you?" Bato asked again kindly.
"Tomorrow evening, don't be busy. I want to look for someone—and you're coming with me."
Bato solemnly offered his services for the following evening.
Once again, the young man made a sudden decision. He wanted to find the man who had shouted at the forum:
"Down with the old gods!"