Julia removed her bracelet and opened the compartment built into it. She counted three sesterces into the merchant’s hand while trying to ignore his smugness. He rubbed the coins between his fingers and slipped them into the pouch at his waist. “He is yours,” he said, handing her the rope, “and may he bring you improved health.”
“Take him,” Julia ordered Eudemas tersely and stepped aside so her slave girl could drag the bleating, struggling animal from the crowded stall. The merchant watched and laughed.
As Julia entered the temple with Eudemas and the goat, she felt faint. The heavy cloying scent of incense failed to overwhelm the smell of blood and death. Her stomach turned. She took her place in the line behind others waiting. Closing her eyes, she swallowed her nausea. Cold sweat beaded her forehead. She couldn’t stop thinking about the night before and her argument with Primus.
“You’ve become quite a bore, Julia,” Primus said. “You impose your gloom on every feast you attend.”
“How kind of you, dear husband, to think of my health and welfare.” She looked to Calabah for sympathy, but saw her motion to Eudemas to bring the tray of goose livers closer. Selecting one, she smiled in a way that made the slave girl blush and then pale. Waving her away, Calabah watched the girl carry the tray to Primus. Calabah hadn’t noticed until then that Julia was watching her. When she did, she merely arched a brow, her cold, dark eyes empty and indifferent. “What is it, dear?”
“Don’t you care if I’m ill?”
“Of course I care,” Calabah said, her quiet voice tinged with impatience. “It’s you who seems not to care. Julia, my love, we have talked about this so many times before it’s becoming tedious. The answer is so simple you refuse to accept it. Set your mind on being healthy. Let your will heal you. Whatever you set your mind upon you can, by your own will, bring it to pass.”
“Don’t you think I’ve tried, Calabah?”
“Not hard enough, my dear, or you would be well. You must center your thoughts on yourself each morning and meditate as I taught you to do. Empty your mind of everything but the one realization that you are your own god, your body merely the temple in which you dwell. You have power over your temple. Your will be done, Julia. The problem is you lack faith. You must believe, and in believing, you will bring forth whatever you want.”
Julia looked away from the woman’s dark eyes. Morning after morning, she had done exactly as Calabah said. Sometimes the fever came upon her in the midst of her meditations, and she trembled with weakness and nausea. Overwhelmed by a sense of hopelessness, she spoke quietly. “Some things are beyond anyone’s will to control.”
Calabah gazed at her disdainfully. “If you have no faith in yourself and your own inner powers, perhaps you should do as Primus suggests. Go to the temple and make a sacrifice. As for me, I have no faith in the gods. All I have achieved came by my own efforts and intellect, not through leaning on some supernatural, unseen power. However, if you truly believe you have no power of your own, Julia, what other logical course have you but to borrow what you need from elsewhere?”
After their months of intimacy, Julia was stunned by Calabah’s disdain and callous indifference to her suffering. She watched Calabah eat another goose liver and then ask Eudemas to bring her the scented water to wash her hands. The girl did as she was bade, gazing at Calabah with rapt adoration and blushing when those long jeweled fingers stroked her arm before she was dismissed. Julia saw the dark speculation in Calabah’s eyes as she watched the servant girl withdraw. A faint, predatory smile played on the older woman’s lips.
Julia felt sick. She knew she was being betrayed before her very eyes, and she knew equally well that there was nothing she could do about it but boil in her own blood. Primus noticed also and took cruel amusement in letting her know.
“The proconsul goes frequently to the haruspices to inquire of the gods,” he said into the stifling silence. “They’ll know if there’s been an outbreak of disease. At least you’ll know if what ails you is something that has been ordained by the gods.”
“And how will knowing that help me?” she said angrily. It was all too apparent that neither Calabah nor Primus really cared what happened to her.
Calabah gave a heavy sigh and rose. “I grow weary of this conversation.”
“Where are you going?” Julia said in dismay.
Sighing, Calabah gave her a long-suffering look. “To the baths. I told Sapphira I would see her this evening.”
Julia grew even more distressed at the mention of the young woman. Sapphira was young and beautiful and came from a well-known Roman family. Upon their first meeting, Calabah had said she found her “promising.”