Household Gods

Antonina sniffed again, almost her old scornful sound. “I can tell why the barbarians didn’t bother you. What did you do, take a bath in the chamberpot? I wish I’d thought of that.” This was good, Nicole thought. Antonina was herself again, more or less.

Nicole answered the question with some pride: “I took Julia across the street to Gaius Calidius Severus’ and splashed us both with the really ripe stuff.”

“That was clever,” Antonina said, “though I’d have thought Julia would have enjoyed taking on a dozen or so stalwart Marcomanni.” Yes, she was definitely on the mend: she was up to being bitchy again.

Nicole sighed. “If Julia wants to sleep with the Germans, she probably will, and there isn’t much anybody can do about it. But if she doesn’t want to, they have no right to force her.”

“They have a right,” Antonina said bleakly: “the right of the strong over the weak.” She held up a hand before Nicole could speak. “Yes, my dear, I do understand you, but when has the world ever paid attention to a woman’s rights?”

“Not often enough,” Nicole had to concede.

Antonina nodded. She had no idea how long that would continue, but neither did she have any idea how much better things would get. Los Angeles of the Nineties, warts and all, was an infinitely better time and place for a woman than second-century Carnuntum.

Nicole knew that now. She also knew, or feared, that like most such wisdom, it came too late to do her any good.

Antonina’s storm of weeping had passed, and she seemed much the better for it. She wouldn’t be a danger to herself now, Nicole thought. Later, if she had a relapse, she might try something, but somehow Nicole suspected that Antonina was too tough for that.

“Listen,” Nicole said. “I have to go back – poor Julia’s all alone with a tavern full of drunken Germans. You come by if you need me, or call. One of us will come. “

“I’ll be all right,” Antonina said. “You go. Slit a German throat or two for me, will you?”

“I wish,” Nicole sighed.

Antonina didn’t laugh, or even smile, but her expression as she saw Nicole off was brighter than it had been since before Carnuntum fell. Nicole knew a moment’s apprehension: what if Antonina found a kitchen knife and came hunting Germans?

Not likely. People here might be unsanitary and they might be inclined toward sexism, but they weren’t casual killers. Not like the people who had conquered them. Which was probably why the Germans had won and the Romans had lost, but that was not a thought Nicole wanted to dwell on. Not if she had to face a tavern packed with drunken, snoring Germans.

Julia had drawn a stool up behind the bar and perched on it, elbows on the bar, chin in hands. She acknowledged Nicole with a lift of the brows: for Julia, a strikingly undemonstrative greeting. Her words revealed the cause of her preoccupation: “If we had anywhere to hide the bodies, I’d cut all their throats.”

“You and Antonina both,” Nicole said.

“Really? She’s alive?” Julia’s lack of enthusiasm wasn’t laudable, but Nicole could more or less understand it. Antonina wasn’t the most popular person in the neighborhood.

“Alive and well enough,” Nicole answered.

“That’s good,” said Julia, deliberately, as if she’d thought over all sides of it, and made a considered decision.

That was more than Nicole could do, but somehow she had to try. She surveyed the human wreckage, and noted the chorus of snores, which was a bit more melodious than what the Romans called music. “Let’s leave them here and go up to bed. With that aureus, we’re ahead of the game no matter how much more they eat.” Then, as a new thought occurred to her: “If you want to bring your blanket and sleep behind a door that locks, I don’t mind at all.”

“That’s kind of you, Mistress, but I’ll be fine where I am,” Julia replied. “If they’re in that kind of mood, a barred door won’t stop them. Breaking it down might even get them more excited.”

Nicole hadn’t thought of that. “You’re probably right,” she said.

Julia didn’t dwell on it. She yawned hugely and stretched. “I’ll look in on Gaius Calidius Severus before I go to bed,” she said.

“Good,” Nicole said. “I was going to ask if you’d do that. Make sure his pupils are the same size. If they are, it’s probably all right to let him sleep.”

“I do hope they are,” said Julia. “He’s not happy about having to stay awake and listen to the city fall.” She paused. “If he needs to be kept awake… I’ll stay with him.”

Nicole opened her mouth, thought better of it, nodded. “Go on,” she said. “I won’t be closing up, with this many men on the floor. You can come in when you’re ready, and not worry about disturbing me.”

Julia didn’t linger. When she was gone, Nicole sighed faintly and looked around her. The wine was all gone, but there were dregs enough in the cups that Julia had collected and set aside for cleaning. Nicole found the one with the most in it, and poured the contents in front of the image of Liber and Libera. She didn’t say her prayer just then. But the wish was stronger than it had ever been.