Free Other Alexander, The by Andrew Levkoff Page B

permission with the cloth he used to battle the permanent film of perspiration on his forehead. Limping to my room as fast as I could, I grabbed my only cloak and met her outside. A bright sun was burning the dew away.
    Swiping a hand across the marble bench where she stood waiting, I sent a small wave of condensation onto the dead grass. I laid the cloak across the veined stone and we sat watching the steam rise off the artificial pond. “I’m sorry,” Sabina said after a short while.
    “This is a terrible place.” I kept still, letting her take her time.
    She was not quite ready, but skirted close. “Livia is quite fond of you, you know. She told me she likes embarrassing you.”
    “An unremarkable feat, easily accomplished. Only yesterday we were practicing the finer points of how to butcher a boar. Cook was demonstrating, I was translating. The staff laughed at every word I spoke; puzzling, since I could not imagine a subject less humorous. The more they laughed, the angrier I became. How dare they humiliate an invalid with a cane? I chastised them sternly, wagging a finger at their disrespect; the laughter became uproarious. A noise from behind caught my attention; I turned to discover your daughter standing there barefoot, wearing an old brown wig, holding two long sticks with stuffed, white gloves attached to each end. She had snuck up behind me to pantomime everything I did."
    “I heard all about it."
    "I glared at her, but my heart wasn't in it. She grinned sheepishly and waved at me with one of her 'hands.' It really was quite funny. Even cook laughed.”
    "For one so young, you are very good with children. Marcus, too. I know you’ve been teaching Livia Latin.”
    “She’s a fast learner. If only we had more time.”
    Damn myself for a fool. I had inadvertently broken the spell. For a moment, we might have been mistaken for two companions enjoying the morning air. “I have not been honest with you,” she said.
    “You owe me no explanations.”
    “I feel that I do.” She bent to pick up a pebble, then tossed it underhand into the pond. “We seem to have become friends, haven’t we? Not an easy accomplishment.” She sighed. “I was ashamed, Alexandros. To confess to you that my station was no better than yours. I thought I would be free, and Livia with me; that I would be gone from this place. Such an insult to you!” She turned to face me. “Can you forgive me?”
    “There is nothing to forgive. You have only shown me kindness. You and Livia have been the only brightness to shine upon me in years. The real tragedy is to learn that you and your daughter are not free.”
    “They will be looking for us soon. I must tell you quickly.”
    “You don’t have to say a thing. Come, let us go in.” I started to rise but she caught my arm.
    “No. I must do this.” She steeled herself. “I was pregnant when we married. He was Roman, a soldier for Marius. It wasn’t a formal ceremony, we weren’t citizens, but we were free and it was legal – he walked me to our apartment with a few of his legionary friends to bear witness. I wore the flame-colored veil and the amaracus wreath. I was such a romantic. My parents were dead, and he was estranged from his. A clue which I completely ignored.”
    “What was his name?”
    “I won’t speak it. Soon after we were married, it became clear his love for me paled beside his passion for gambling. He was obsessed by the chariot races;  whenever the cheers from the Circus Maximus echoed through the city, he would disappear, probably with those same men who had followed us to our threshold. I didn’t notice the losses at first; he didn’t confide in me. And honestly, I was so wrapped up in my daughter, I wasn’t paying attention. I had never been so happy.” I nodded. “I suppose that’s why two years ago when I came back from the market and he gave me the news, I fainted. See this scar?” She leaned toward me; I saw a thin white ripple just below the