Crispianus Aetius, the youngest grandson of Old Aetius, guided his horse to the side of his grandmother's litter, leaned down, and pulled back the curtains.
"We're on the beach now," he said in Germanic. "Do you want to walk?"
"I could try," she said.
He dropped down from his horse, and helped her out of the litter to stand against him. A servant offered her cane.
"Here's your walking stick," he said. "The path is solid."
She clamped both hands on the stick as he braced his arm around her. At eighty, now totally blind, the survivor of two strokes, the sister of Arminius, she had born her husband nine children, and raised them all in the castrum and vicus of her husband's command at Mogontiacum. Of his aunts, uncles, and cousins, Crispianus, his cousin Crispus, and his grandparents were especially close. His father had engineered his posting in Rome as a Praetorian Tribune to keep tabs on the elderly couple. Like most wealthy Romans, a few weeks at the resort town of Baiae on the Bay of Neapolis was a highlight of the summer social calendar, and this year was the first time Crispianus had been here.
"The water is so clear you can see the bottom of the sea," he said.
A gull searching for a handout dived at the old woman. Crispianus threw up his arm.
"Get!" he snapped.
That bird flew away as another tried its luck. He blocked it again.
"No food! Go!"
"They're quite bold," she said.
They made their way along a path on the shore. A male vendor dressed as a woman approached and held out a tray of clay phalluses of various sizes, a randy grin on his face.
"Damn you! She's my grandmother! Get gone before I beat your ass!" Crispianus shouted.
The man gave him a knowing wink and sauntered away.
"What was that about?" she asked.
"You don't want to know," he said.
"What is that I smell?" she asked.
"Baked apples," he said. "There's a thermopolium on our right."
The litter bearers followed as he kept his horse's lead rope in hand.
"There are some daisies in the grass," he said. "I could pick a few."
"They'll stay fresh longer out here," she said.
He drew her close, knowing this might be her last summer, and wanting as many memories as possible.
"You're a dutiful grandson," Sejanus said as he approached them from behind.
Chills raced up Crispianus' spine as he came to attention.
"You will take your grandmother home and report to me," the Praetorian Prefect said.
"Yes, Sir," Crispianus said.
He helped his grandmother into the litter and returned home. A squad of Praetorians surrounded the house. Crispianus approached his grandfather.
"What's going on? Why are you being arrested?"
"Same shit, different day," the old general said.
"You are now under arrest as well, Tribune," a Centurion said.
"Your sweet ass I am," Crispianus said. "I demand an inquiry and court martial. Also, to write to my father."
"I can't allow that," the Centurion said.
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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...
