Instinctively, I grabbed her wrist, perhapsthe second time we ever touched, and I cannot say if she felt thesame jolt of lightning that I did, but she did look up at mesuddenly, her green eyes wide.
“I might,” I spoke cautiously, notwanting to make my situation worse than it already seemed to be,“be here longer than you might think.”
“Why?” she asked, genuinely puzzled.“Surely the King will reward you for what you did!”
“He…might.” I tried to soundoptimistic, yet I had seen Cogidubnus’ eyes when Ivomagus had beenmaking my case, and frankly, I thought I saw a man who was more inlove with the idea of so much gold than he was worried about hisword as a king.
Chapter Seven
My journey to Arelate was as uneventful asit was as swift as I could possibly make it, so that less than tendays after landing, I was within sights of the walls of what is nowa small city. I had not been away from it all that long, certainly,but as I approached the northern wall, I could see new buildingsthat had not been there when I last visited when I came with Gnaeusto inter his father and to introduce himself to his new family. Afamily that, never far from my mind, was less one member than whenI had arrived with my Uncle Titus’ son. Despite the mix of feelingsthat assailed me, I kept my mind on why I was there. The northerngate was open, and the town watch barely gave me more than aglance, and I was not certain whether I should be offended orrelieved. Things had not changed so much that I could not find myway to the villa, and fairly quickly, I was dismounted and poundingon the smaller door set into the gate. I was not sure who I wouldsee first, but I certainly did not expect it to be the eye of mymother who peered out after she opened the small peephole. Isuspect that I am not unique; I believe any child would instantlyrecognize the eyes, or eye of their mother no matter what age itwas, and it did make a smile break out at the sight of how wide itwent.
“A…Alex?Alexandros?”
“Yes, Mother.” I laughed.“It’s me.”
The peephole door shut, and I heard therattling as she lifted the bar, then one door swung open, and Ibarely had a moment to prepare myself for her to rush at me andfling herself into my arms. For a moment, just a moment, I forgoteverything else and just savored the feeling of being reunited withmy mother, although I was as eager to see my sisters Scribonia andGisela, and I am ashamed to say, not quite as eager to see GaiusGallienus.
“Why are you here?” shedemanded, and I ruefully reminded myself of how clever my motherwas.
“There’s a lot to tellyou,” I admitted. “But I want to tell this just once.”
All the color drained from my mother’scheeks as she gasped, putting a hand to her mouth as she staggeredback a step.
“Is it…Titus? Or Algaia?”Before I could say a word, her mind leapt ahead, and now the tearscame as she moaned, “It’s Gnaeus, isn’t it? You were on campaign,so it must be Gnaeus!”
I had to grab her by both shoulders andpractically shout, “No, Mama! Nobody’s dead!” Even as I said it, inthe back of my mind was the prayer that this was still the case.“Mama, can I come inside?”
She looked embarrassed, which made me feelworse, but I led the horses into the yard, and I took theopportunity to ask where everyone was.
“Septimus is at thedocks,” she told me. “And Scribonia is at her home, of course, asis Miriam.”
“What about Gisela andGallienus?” I asked, and an expression that I had long beforelearned meant she was troubled flashed across her face.
“Gisela is visiting afriend, and he’s out in town,” she said vaguely, and I suppose itwas this that made me immediately think that my stepbrother hadfollowed in my younger brother Titus’ footsteps by getting mixed upwith the wrong sort.
“By the gods,” I snapped,already angry at my stepbrother. “Don’t tell me that he made thesame stupid mistake as Titus and got mixed up with acollegia!”
I could see by her expression that my motherimmediately realized why I had reacted the way I did, and shehurriedly assured me, “No, Alex! It’s nothing like that. He…” shehesitated, “…has met someone. A girl.”
“Ah,” I confess that I wasnot only relieved, I was amused, and I chided my mother, “thenthat’s nothing to worry about, is it?”
“No,” she sighed, “Isuppose not. It’s just that…” She paused again, and I got the senseshe was deciding something. Only later, once I had divulged thepurpose of my visit and all the trouble that it caused did Iunderstand why. “…the girl he’s…infatuated with is FabiaCocles.”
“Cocles?” I asked; thename was familiar to me, but I could not think why. “Where have Iheard that name?”
“Because he’s one ofthe duumviri of Arelate,” sheanswered.
“Pluto’sballs!” Even as it came out, I knewwhat was coming.
“Alex! Mind yourlanguage.” My mother’s tone instantly transported me back tochildhood as she continued tartly, “Just because you’re with theLegions doesn’t mean that you should talk like aLegionary.”
I knew better than to argue, simplymumbling, “Yes, Mama. Still,” I returned to the subject, “why isGallienus seeing this girl a problem? Has her father saidanything?” I got my answer with the look, or rather, in how shelooked away from me, and I groaned, “He doesn’t know, does he?”
“No,” she admitted. “Or Ishould say I don’t think heknows.” She looked back at me then. “Will you speak to him whileyou’re here?”
My agreement was based more in the desire tostable the horses, sit down, and get something to eat and drinkthan any hope that I would be changing the mind of a teenage boyabout a teenage girl who was not of his class. And, I confess, nowthat I am a Roman citizen of freedman status, I bear the sameresentment for the manner in which Romans of the upper ordersjealously guard the path into their class
