Old Marcus reached into a cupboard, found a flask of oil, and refilled the lamp on the stand beside the cot where his granddaughter Victoria lay looking like a corpse on a bier. When she fell from the bema, she could have plunged to the paving stones below. Instead, she managed to become tangled in a piece of drapery enough to break her fall as an auxilliary caught her. Her only injury was a severe gash on the left side of her head, but she had not regained consciousness since.
Once at the infirmary of the castrum, the doctor determined that she had no bones broken or internal injuries but nothing could bring her around. He suspected swelling or bleeding on her brain and recommended trephaning, boring a small hole in her skull to relieve the pressure. Horrified, her parents consulted other physicians in Antioch, but all were of the same mind. The procedure would take place in the morning. Lucius, Old Marcus' youngest son, tapped on the door and let himself in. Young Marcus trailed him, a worried frown on his face.
"I've got intelligence," Lucius said.
He walked to the foot of the cot, realizing that the room where they were was the same private room in the infirmary where Germanicus died. He watched his niece, lying as still and pale as the late General. Lucius was a half-brother to Marcus and Gaius, the result of Old Marcus' indiscretion with an enslaved Judean maid. He was the tallest of the brothers, with Mark Antony's muscular build and chiseled features. Young Marcus at thirteen was already tall, husky, with clunky hands and feet. An observant, inquisitive, outgoing young man, he was two months older than Victoria, but viewed her and her sisters as siblings and best friends. He knelt by the cot and watched her, his fingers toying with the bulla, or amulet on a neck chain worn by all Roman boys until their coming of age.
"Are they really going to drill a hole in her head?" he asked.
"I'm afraid so," the old man answered.
Young Marcus bowed his head in prayer and Lucius muttered a curse.
"Well?" his father asked.
"They brought the ashes back to the house for the banquet, and Bolt heard Agrippina runing her mouth about Piso, Germanicus' death, and now Victrix," Lucius said.
"Why Victoria?" Marcus snapped. "She's just a thirteen-year-old girl! This isn't still about that damn dog, is it?"
"Well, it didn't help that Victoria thrashed Caligula's ass for kicking the dog, but there's more."
"Ye gods!"
"Remember this past summer, when the children held their end of the year school recital?" Lucius asked.
"Victoria bested the boys in a mathematics, history, and geography quiz," Marcus said. "Don't tell me Agrippina is still pissing herself about a school exercise."
"What she's pissed at is the part where I scolded Caligula that day for going into the stables where the stallions are."
"None of the children are allowed in that area," Marcus said.
"Except for Victrix and Bolt, who both told me the damn child was there and I threatened to whip his ass."
"Germanicus did whip his ass," Marcus said.
"And Caligula's her golden boy, her Little Boot, who can do no wrong."
"So she blames Victoria for her son being a brat?" Marcus snapped. "She has two boys, Drusus and Nero, who'd be a credit to anybody and it's Caligula she chooses over them."
"She's as cracked as Caligula," Lucius said. "Nobody poisoned Germanicus, but she thinks they did and she's spouting her theories to everyone who'll listen."
YOU ARE READING
Domina Victrix
Historical FictionDescendants of Triumvir Mark Antony through his little-known first wife, young cousins, Victoria and Marcus, have always known they were heirs to a mixed-blessing heritage. Roman men were expected to brutally dominate their families and the world a...
