The Emperor's Assassin

Six

Locusta's Oasis. Each year Pricilla and I added different plants. A few came from distant lands, clippings and seeds carried across great distances by Pricilla's friends. I never learned the names of these furtive astrologers and augurs, only benefited from the gifts of nature they left behind. Not all the seeds sprouted. A few withered away in spite of Pricilla's deft coaxing. As a vintner's daughter who understood the effects of climate, weather, soil, and cultivation, I found great delight when a new plant took root and flourished.

Many of the plants were harmless herbs and flowers. Except for those in the southwest corner. That was the location of the plants whose beauty belied their toxic secrets. Most of those were gifts from one particular visitor. Pricilla said the woman was her great aunt, a prophetess and sorceress. I had scoffed at this. How could a woman with ebony skin be related to the fair-skinned Pricilla? Unlike the others, who with furtive hands slipped seeds from one basket into another, this woman walked like an empress. Despite her faded clothes and worn sandals.

Each time she visited she spoke to Pricilla in a strange lyrical language, handed her a satchel of seeds, and gave her a long hug. For me, she had only sharp words and dark looks. I had asked Pricilla what portents the prophetess saw in my face that she looked at me with such contempt. Pay no heed to her dour looks, Pricilla had said, she's old, her mind addled with age.

"Where did you go?" I said when Pricilla walked in with a steaming bowl.

"To the far meadow." Pricilla knelt at the edge. "Drink."

I pointed to the bright green leaves and pale lavender buds that floated on the surface. "These looks familiar."

"They should. Do you recall the tall plant that stretches into the air with blooms stacked high like pale purple dandelions?"

I nodded. They were delicate small-orbed blooms, beautiful and wild.

"It's pennyroyal, very common and found far and wide. Steeped in boiling water, it will encourage your womb to bleed and expel his seed."

"But what if this is my only chance to have a child?" I inhaled the minty steam.

"Do you think he'll believe it's his? Or let you keep it? Especially after he told you he wanted no more children. I know his kind. He'll kick you in the stomach until either you or the baby dies." Pricilla's eyes clouded.

I glanced at her stomach.

"Not me. A friend who died long ago with my first master." She sighed and gestured to the bowl. "Drink."

I wiped my tears away and lifted the bowl. Although the scalding brew burned the memory of his brutal kiss, I shivered in the warm bath.

Water rinsed the dirt from my skin and hair. Pennyroyal would purge his seed. But nothing would heal my broken spirit.

"Release your pain tonight," said Pricilla. "Cry like Neptune himself loosens the rage of seawaters from your eyes. Flush out your sorrow. When the tears stop—and they will—when you're exhausted with spent emotion, make me a promise."

My brows furrowed. "A promise?"

"Vow you will never again shed tears over this misfortune."

I gulped down the contents of the bowl. "That's ridiculous."

Pricilla folded her arms. "Then you give him great power. Is this what you want? To be haunted by his deeds? The possibility of a happy future destroyed because you wallow in misery?"

I clamped both hands over my ears and submerged under the water. Pricilla asked too much. Never cry over this again? Impossible! I never wanted to forget. How could I? A joyful marriage would never be mine. A lifetime of anguish and degradation was an unjust substitute.