her girdle and gave it to the young midwife. 'This is yours. There'll be another just like it once I've learned of what happens when my little present is found.'
The midwife emptied the purse into her hand. There were five gold coins, a staggering amount of money. She stopped shaking as she stared at the shining Emperor's heads. 'I will tell you as soon as it's done, Lady.'
'Don't bother. I will only pay you when I've heard the account from others. But do not worry. I have no doubt at all that I will hear.'
The young midwife slipped the coins back inside the purse and placed the sinister little object and its sock in with them. She briefly wondered if the golden Emperor's heads would be tarnished by their companion, corrupted in some way. Then she decided it didn't matter. Money was money, no matter how little it might shine by day's end.
The warm morning in early summer brought people into the open air. Hundreds flocked through the annual slave fair, which was held on the Field of Mars before the start of the festival for the war goddess, Bellona. Some shopped in earnest but many more just browsed, the slave fair being a great haunt for those who enjoyed ogling the less fortunate. But the widow Agrippina strode across the market flagstones with the sole purpose of restocking her household. Malaria had returned to Rome with the warmer weather and she'd lost half her staff to the pestilence.
As the trusted companion slave of her youngest son, Little Boots, who was busy this morning with his tutor, I was included among the retinue of friends, surviving servants, freedmen and beggars that now accompanied Agrippina everywhere. Some forty attendants milled about but I managed to hold my place behind her shoulder. At Agrippina's left and right, her two greatest friends, Sosia and Claudia, guided her through the market clamour with radiant, public smiles.
Short and squat, Sosia Galla was loved for her sharp eye and quick mind. She was fiercely loyal to beautiful Agrippina. Sosia thought nothing of kicking the ankles of those who moved too slowly in front of them and then smiling challengingly when they turned on her to complain. Claudia Pulchra, at Agrippina's right, was a Claudian cousin possessing a dark allure that almost eclipsed Agrippina's famed golden hair and milky skin. Claudia's loyalty was as steadfast as Sosia's, and both friends harboured scars on their hearts from Agrippina's husband's untimely death.
There was a buzz of excitement in the crowd that the widow was among them. Agrippina's celebrity burned as brightly as the sun. No other woman's face was then as known and as loved by Rome – not even my sleeping domina 's. And no other woman's tragedy was known as intimately, or was so passionately discussed. If Rome could have crowned its queen, the crown would have belonged to Agrippina.
The caged slaves awaiting auction were the focus of the three women's attention, but my eyes were on the other features around us. 'Look, Lady,' I spoke before thinking. 'They're giving the domina new hair.'
Agrippina looked. The Field of Mars's statue of Livia was having a fashionable bronze hairstyle fitted, so that she wouldn't look outdated. I thought this was happy news, of course, but I should have known better than to express it to Agrippina. The widow hated my domina .
'It means that the Augusta is still in people's hearts,' I explained to her. 'They want her to keep up with the times.'
Agrippina said nothing and Sosia cast a censuring look at me. Rome was still even to learn of my domina 's 'illness', although the goddess Rumour was concocting stories to explain Livia's long absence from public view.
The din of panpipers and musicians playing tambourines and cithara increased in volume for a moment, then ceased, creating expectation in the crowd.
'The mangon is appearing,' Claudia motioned.
Agrippina could not be expected to bid personally, so that was my role here. The lavishly dressed mangon – or slave trader
The midwife emptied the purse into her hand. There were five gold coins, a staggering amount of money. She stopped shaking as she stared at the shining Emperor's heads. 'I will tell you as soon as it's done, Lady.'
'Don't bother. I will only pay you when I've heard the account from others. But do not worry. I have no doubt at all that I will hear.'
The young midwife slipped the coins back inside the purse and placed the sinister little object and its sock in with them. She briefly wondered if the golden Emperor's heads would be tarnished by their companion, corrupted in some way. Then she decided it didn't matter. Money was money, no matter how little it might shine by day's end.
The warm morning in early summer brought people into the open air. Hundreds flocked through the annual slave fair, which was held on the Field of Mars before the start of the festival for the war goddess, Bellona. Some shopped in earnest but many more just browsed, the slave fair being a great haunt for those who enjoyed ogling the less fortunate. But the widow Agrippina strode across the market flagstones with the sole purpose of restocking her household. Malaria had returned to Rome with the warmer weather and she'd lost half her staff to the pestilence.
As the trusted companion slave of her youngest son, Little Boots, who was busy this morning with his tutor, I was included among the retinue of friends, surviving servants, freedmen and beggars that now accompanied Agrippina everywhere. Some forty attendants milled about but I managed to hold my place behind her shoulder. At Agrippina's left and right, her two greatest friends, Sosia and Claudia, guided her through the market clamour with radiant, public smiles.
Short and squat, Sosia Galla was loved for her sharp eye and quick mind. She was fiercely loyal to beautiful Agrippina. Sosia thought nothing of kicking the ankles of those who moved too slowly in front of them and then smiling challengingly when they turned on her to complain. Claudia Pulchra, at Agrippina's right, was a Claudian cousin possessing a dark allure that almost eclipsed Agrippina's famed golden hair and milky skin. Claudia's loyalty was as steadfast as Sosia's, and both friends harboured scars on their hearts from Agrippina's husband's untimely death.
There was a buzz of excitement in the crowd that the widow was among them. Agrippina's celebrity burned as brightly as the sun. No other woman's face was then as known and as loved by Rome – not even my sleeping domina 's. And no other woman's tragedy was known as intimately, or was so passionately discussed. If Rome could have crowned its queen, the crown would have belonged to Agrippina.
The caged slaves awaiting auction were the focus of the three women's attention, but my eyes were on the other features around us. 'Look, Lady,' I spoke before thinking. 'They're giving the domina new hair.'
Agrippina looked. The Field of Mars's statue of Livia was having a fashionable bronze hairstyle fitted, so that she wouldn't look outdated. I thought this was happy news, of course, but I should have known better than to express it to Agrippina. The widow hated my domina .
'It means that the Augusta is still in people's hearts,' I explained to her. 'They want her to keep up with the times.'
Agrippina said nothing and Sosia cast a censuring look at me. Rome was still even to learn of my domina 's 'illness', although the goddess Rumour was concocting stories to explain Livia's long absence from public view.
The din of panpipers and musicians playing tambourines and cithara increased in volume for a moment, then ceased, creating expectation in the crowd.
'The mangon is appearing,' Claudia motioned.
Agrippina could not be expected to bid personally, so that was my role here. The lavishly dressed mangon – or slave trader
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