Household Gods

She glowered at the graffito on the tavern’s wall. If she took a brush to it, she’d probably get rid of the whitewash, too. She’d have to buy more whitewash, then, and paint over it. She glowered more darkly. Another couple of sesterces thrown away. Maybe she’d leave it up, at least until the beast shows were done. It might, she told herself, even draw a couple of customers into the tavern.

Aurelia erupted through the front door, spotted Nicole, and said, “Eep!” She ducked back in even faster than she’d come out. Nicole laughed. She knew what that meant. Aurelia had been all set to play in the mud, like her brother before her. Foiled, Nicole thought wickedly.

She went inside with more decorum. The warm rich smell of baking bread fought and almost overwhelmed the city stink. Julia was over at the counter, grinding flour for the next batch.

As Nicole went to spell her at the mill, a man’s voice spoke behind her. “Mistress Umma?”

Nicole turned, trying not to seem too startled. The newcomer was a dapper little man, and a total stranger. He knew her, however, or thought he did. Little by little, she was getting used to that. It didn’t drive her to panic much anymore, not the way it had at first.

Then again, maybe Umma hadn’t known him. He blinked and peered at her as if he might be a bit nearsighted. “My name is Julius Rufus,” he said. He was carrying a small wooden keg, which he set on one of the tables. “I hear you’ve been in the mood to try new things lately.”

Her heart leaped from a standstill into a pounding gallop. “What? What about it?” Damn – were people all over Carnuntum gossiping about the new and highly eccentric Umma? Old Umma used to be sharp, you bet, but lately she’s gone soft in the head. God – that could get dangerous. Somebody might even -

But Julius Rufus said, “I’ll tell you what about it,” and her heartbeat slowed to a fast canter. Safe, she was safe. This was a salesman, or she wasn’t a Hoosier of Hoosier born. As if to reassure her even further, he went on in a fast patter that had to be as old as the hills, “I know this tavern has always served nothing but wine – good wine, too, everybody agrees on that. Still and all, if you’ve taken it into your head to try things you haven’t tried before, how about this delicious barley brew here? It’s my very own, brewed up of the finest ingredients, according to an ancient recipe that’s come down through my family since the first Pyramid was a pup.”

Julia looked up from the quern. “The Marcomanni and Quadi drink beer because they don’t know any better,” she said flatly. “When they get smart, they buy wine from us Romans.”

Julius Rufus showed teeth as irregular as Calidius Severus’ in an insouciant grin. “Beer has been good enough for the Egyptians since time out of mind, and my beer has been good enough for a nice lot of people in Carnuntum for a good ten years now. There’s some very fine taverns go through a whole barrel of it before they’ve emptied their amphorae of wine.”

“Barrels,” Nicole murmured. Beer had alcohol in it, of course. But, if it came in barrels, it wouldn’t be full of lead. She fetched a clean cup and a dipper, and bore down on Julius Rufus and his sample cask. “Let me try some.”

Julia looked astonished. Julius Rufus looked delighted. He lifted the lid of his keg with a flourish. “Help yourself, Mistress Umma – and see for yourself that you’ll have no reason whatsoever to look down your nose at this fine product.”

When Nicole and Frank toured Austria on their honeymoon, Frank had drunk Austrian beer with conspicuous pleasure. Nicole, despite his urging, had stuck to mineral water. What she wouldn’t give to do that now…

She shook herself and focused on the task at hand. No help for it, and no escape, either. She dipped up a cupful, raised the cup to her lips, and sipped.

She had to work hard to hold her face straight. Wine, at least, was sweet. Frank had always said beer was an acquired taste. Nicole wondered why on earth anyone would want to acquire it. The stuff was bitter. It was sour. She could taste the alcohol in it. The only thing she could say for it was that it might make drunkenness more trouble than it was worth. If everyone reacted to beer the way she did, she might actually make some inroads against alcoholism in Carnuntum.

She made herself take another sip. It tasted no better than the first. “It’ll never take the place of wine,” she said.

“Told you so,” Julia said from behind the counter.

But Julius Rufus was undeterred. “I don’t intend it to take the place of wine,” he said. “I drink wine myself – in fact, if you’ll serve me a cup of your two-as there, I’ll be grateful.” He set a dupondius on the table by the keg. Nicole nodded to Julia, who poured out the wine for him.