Eventually, just when I felt happy to stay where I was for the rest of the week, Helena roused me and brought me a basin of hot water to wash. I made a cursory effort with a sponge and comb, then pulled on several undertunics and finally the new russet garment. It was so pristine it was just waiting to have a really purple sauce accidentally spilled down it. It felt too bulky, and the sleeves resisted free movement. Whereas my old green number had sat on me like a second skin, in this one I was constantly aware of itchy cloth and folds I wasn't expecting. It smelt of fullers' chemicals too.
Helena Justina made herself deaf to my muttering. Once I was ready-as ready as I was prepared to make myself-I lay on the bed and watched glumly as she quietly dressed her hair. Before she left her father's house to live with me, maids would have curled her long soft locks with hot tongs, but now she had to comb, wind, and spear her hair herself. She had become adept with the fine knobbed pins; she made no complaint. Then she peered into a blurry bronze hand mirror, trying to apply wineless rouge and lupinseed powder by the dim light of a small oil lamp. At that point she did start muttering to herself. December was a poor month for beautification. The fine eye-work with colors drawn from green glass flasks on silver spatulas entailed bending close to the rectangular mirror set into her jewel casket, and even that caused explosions of frustration. I heaved myself upright and refilled the lamp for her, not that it seemed to help. And I was in her way, apparently.
According to Helena she was not really bothering. That would be why this took over an hour.
Just when I was comfortable and nodding off again, she pronounced herself ready to escort me to dinner. She was now tastefully bedecked in pale green, with her amber necklace and wooden-soled slippers, topped off by a thick winter wrap that hung around her rather alluringly. She made a graceful contrast to me in my tortuous russet.
"You look very smart, Marcus." I sighed. "I've borrowed my parents' litter so you won't be exposed to the weather. It's a cold evening though-" As if the new tunic were not trouble enough, then she hit me with the ultimate embarrassment: "You could wear your Gallic coat!"
Bought in Lower Germany in a rash moment, this was a sturdy shapeless, warm felt robe. It had wide sewn-on sleeves that stuck out at right angles and a ludicrous pointed hood. It was intended to be storm-proof; stylishness had not been part of its makeup. I had sworn never to be seen in my home city wearing anything so crude. But I must have been really sick that night: despite all protests, Helena somehow swaddled me in my Gallic coat, fastening the toggles under my chin as if I was three years old.
Now I knew I should have stayed in bed. I had planned to waylay Saturninus with my sophistication. Instead, I arrived at his smart house, bundling out of a borrowed litter with a runny nose, fevered eyes, and looking like some little hunchbacked Celtic forest god. What made me most furious was that I realized Helena Justina was laughing at me.
Twenty-eight
SATURNINUS AND HIS wife lived near the Quirinal Hill. Every room in their house had been painted about three months before by professional fresco artists. The couple owned a large quantity of silver furniture, which they scattered with bright cushions in compelling shades. The neat legs of the couches and side tables buried themselves in luxurious fur rugs-some still with the heads on. I just managed to avoid stuffing my left foot into a dead panther's dentistry.
As I was led in and divested of my outer garments, I gathered the wife was called Euphrasia. She and her husband came civilly to welcome us the moment we arrived. She was an extremely handsome woman, about thirty, darker-skinned than he, with a generous mouth, and gorgeous, gentle eyes.
She led us to a warm dining room decorated in rich red and black. Folding doors led into a colonnaded garden which Saturninus said they used for meals in summer. He showed us briefly; there was a sparkling grotto made from colored glass and seashells at the far end. With kindly expressions of concern for my health, he brought us back in and had me placed near a brazier.
We were the only guests. Apparently their idea of entertaining was to keep the party intimate. Well, that fitted with what I had been told about the night they dined with ex-praetor Urtica.
I tried to remember I was here to work, though in fact the house was so comfortable and my hosts so easygoing that I found I was starting to forget. I had instinctively distrusted Saturninus, yet I was helpless in less than half an hour.
Luckily Helena stayed alert. Once we had talked of this and that, while eating this and that in generous, highly spiced portions, and while I was trying to stop my nose running after the spices, she weighed straight in: "So tell me what your background is. How did you come to Rome?"
Saturninus stretched his wide frame on his couch. He seemed characteristically relaxed. He was in a gray tunic almost as new as mine, with gold torque bracelets on his upper arms, his fingers glittering with heavy seal rings. "I came over from Tripolitania -oh, about twenty years ago. I was freeborn and favored in life. My family was well off, cultured, leaders of the local community. We had land, though like most people not enough of it-"
"This was where? What's your hometown?" Helena believed most people were overkeen to impart their life histories, and as a rule she made a point of not asking them. But when she did, she was unstoppable.
"Lepcis Magna."
"That's one of the three cities that the province takes its name from?"
"Right. The others are Oea and Sabratha. Of course I will tell you Lepcis is the most significant."
"Of course." Helena had been speaking in a bright, enquiring voice as if making casual conversation, though as a rather nosy guest. The lanista talked with ease and confidence. I believed his claim that in Lepcis his family were people of substance. But that left a large question mark. Helena smiled: "I don't mean to be impertinent, but when a man from a good background ends up as a lanista, there must be a story behind it."
Saturninus thought about it. I noticed Euphrasia was watching him. They seemed a companionable couple, but like many wives she viewed her partner with a faint veil of amusement, as though he didn't fool her. I also thought the gentle eyes could be deceptive.
Her husband shrugged. If he had fought in the arena, he had based his life on taking up challenges. I reckon he knew Helena was no easy touch, and perhaps the risk of giving away too much appealed to him. "I left home claiming I was off to become important in Rome."
"And so you were too proud to go back before you made your name?" Helena and he were like old friends laughing together sympathetically over the faults of one of them. Saturninus was pretending to be honest; Helena pretended to go along with it.
" Rome was something of a shock," Saturninus admitted. "I had money and education. In that respect I could match any youth of my age from the great senatorial families-but I was a provincial and debarred from political life at a high level. I could have engaged in trade-imports and exports-but it was not my style; well, I might as well have stayed in Lepcis and done that. The other alternative was to become some sort of dreary poet, like a Spaniard begging for favors at court-" Euphrasia snorted at this suggestion; Helena smiled; Saturninus acknowledged them. "All the time I saw beer-swilling lanks from Gallic tribes being admitted to the Senate with full honors, while Tripolitanians did not rate the same distinction."
"They will," I assured him. Vespasian had once been governor of Africa; he would extend the senatorial franchise once he thought of it. Previous emperors had done so for provinces they knew well (hence the long-bearded senatorial Gauls Saturninus so despised, who had been championed by loopy old Claudius). In fact, if Vespasian hadn't had the idea yet of doing something for Africa, I could nudge him along with a report. Anything to look helpful to the government. And Vespasian would like it, being a cheap measure.