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Authors: A.L. Jambor

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BOOK: Pello Island: Cassia
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Cassia held Darius’ hand.  She thought about their daughter and wondered where she was.  Dulcia had the responsibility of contacting her father to set into motion the events that would conclude their exile in time.  Darius was responsible for being there to take her call. He always missed it.  Without her presence, Cassia wondered just how it would begin this time.

Darius looked at Cassia and smiled.  He had a sad expression on his face.  Maybe he’s finally ready to go home, she thought.

“Do you ever think about Rome, Cassia?” he asked.

Cassia put her head back and closed her eyes.

“I’m thinking about it now, Darius,” she replied.

 

Rome - Two Thousand Years Ago

Cassia ran into her father's shop.  She loved the smell of the spices and perfumes that came from far away, exotic places.  She dreamed of seeing those places one day as the wife of a general, who would take her with him to places like Egypt and Africa.  She would be twelve years old at the end of the week, and that meant she was ready for marriage.

Cassia had sneaked out of the kitchen through a window while Novia, her ladies’ maid, was working the spindle. She ran from the back of the townhouse to get to the shop, thus avoiding her mother, Agatha.  Cassia saw Flavius at the back of the shop and ran over to greet him.

“Flavius, Novia told me the new spices had arrived.  What did we get this time?”

Flavius ran the shop for Cassia’s father, Quintus.  He looked at his little Cassia and smiled.  She was growing into a lovely young lady.  She looked like her mother, Agatha, only with a sweetness that shone from within her.

Cassia’s long blond hair was wrapped into a bun at the nape of her neck.  Her blue eyes were large and filled with mirth.  She had a small nose and a mouth that smiled easily and often.  Flavius adored her, and when she came into the shop she brought the sunshine in with her.

“Your favorite, Cassia, cinnamon.”

Cassia clapped her hands and ran over to the rows of ceramic jars lining the walls of the shop.  She quickly found the cinnamon and put her nose over the jar.  The aroma of the cinnamon sticks rising from the jar made her smile.

“Oh, Flavius, isn't that the most wonderful smell in the world?”  She turned to him, and Flavius nodded.

“I have to agree with you on that,” he said.

Cassia took three cinnamon sticks out of the jar and placed them on the counter.  She wanted to take them home and put them under her pillow.  She sat on a small stool and watched Flavius sorting through the other goods that had been delivered the day before.

“So, what did you learn today?”  Flavius asked Cassia.

“I’m working on a weaving pattern.  Flavius, why do girls have to learn weaving?  It's so...boring.”  She looked in earnest at Flavius and he suppressed a smile.

“Women run the home, Cassia.  They have to learn all the household skills.  Besides, you want to do your family proud, don't you?  The more intricate the pattern, the more respect you'll bring to your father and your husband.”

“It seems silly to me,” she said.  “My fingers don't want to work that way, Flavius.  I'd rather work in the shop.”

“Your father has plans for you, Cassia.  You're to marry a nobleman.  You have to learn all the things a noblewoman knows if you're to run your husband’s home.  That's just the way it is.”

“But how will he find a nobleman to marry me, Flavius?  I'm just a merchant's daughter.”

Flavius had wondered this himself.  Quintus' heart was set on Cassia raising his social status by marrying a Roman patrician.

Quintus believed that older noblemen with children weren’t so picky about their brides, as offspring were not an issue.  He would often say that most of them would accept a young virgin with a huge dowry, especially if the nobleman in question had debts he couldn't pay.

Flavius didn't like thinking of his Cassia being “sold” to a fat old Roman nobleman, and would often disagree with Quintus regarding his plans for Cassia.  He always put her off whenever the subject of her future arose.

“You'll have to ask your papa,” he said.

“I rarely see Papa anymore, Flavius.  He stays away days at a time.  Mama doesn't seem to mind, but I miss him.  Do you know when he'll be back?”

Quintus had an arrangement with a woman and he often stayed with her for days at a time.  Flavius knew about the arrangement, and knew not to disturb Quintus when he was “traveling.”

“He's in Egypt, Cassia.  He'll be back by the end of this week in time for your birthday.”

Cassia's eyes lit up as she thought about her birthday.  She imagined Quintus riding a camel in the desert, carrying her gift in his arms.  She wished she could be there with him.

“I think I'll take my cinnamon home now.  I'll see you tomorrow, Flavius.”

Cassia grabbed the cinnamon and slipped off the stool.  She walked to the back of the shop and climbed the two stairs that led into her home.  She walked through the atrium and could see her mother lying on a couch in the dining area, eating.

Agatha was a 27-year-old version of Cassia, with small lines around her mouth from continuously frowning.  The wine she drank didn’t help her appearance, either.  Her eyes were blue and often bloodshot, and she had dyed her naturally blond hair red.  Agatha drank often and to excess, and even though it was illegal for women to drink wine in Rome, Quintus allowed it as long as she confined her activities to their home.

Cassia looked at her mother to see if she’d noticed Cassia’s presence.  Agatha was preoccupied with her bread and honey, so Cassia tiptoed past her and into her room.  Novia, her maid, had a distaff in her hand and was spinning in the kitchen when she saw Cassia sneaking past her mother.  She put the distaff aside, and followed her.

Novia was forty years old and had raised Cassia since she was a baby.  She had streaks of gray in her dark brown hair and soft brown eyes.  She had accompanied Agatha to Rome when she married Quintus at the age of twelve.

Novia had nursed Agatha through six miscarriages before her mistress carried Cassia to term.  Though Quintus was disappointed in the sex of his only living child, he was glad that she was healthy.  After Cassia’s birth, Quintus stopped visiting Agatha’s bed.

Agatha gave Cassia to Novia to raise until her seventh birthday, and when Agatha didn’t show much interest in her, Novia continued to care for Cassia as her maid.  Cassia regarded Novia as her mother.

“What have you got there?”  Novia asked her, as Cassia slipped the cinnamon under the pillow.

“Cinnamon freshly arrived from the East.”  Cassia ran over to Novia and threw her arms around Novia's waist.  “Can you smell it, Novia?”

“Yes, I can.  It's wonderful.”  Novia smiled down at her little girl.  “Did the vanilla arrive as well?”

“I forgot to ask Flavius.  I'll ask him tomorrow.”  Cassia let go of Novia.  “Novia, why can't I work at the shop anymore?”

“Because your father wants you to be a proper lady and he doesn't think the shop is the right place for you.”

“But I love it there.  And I miss Amatus.”

“Amatus is one of the reasons your father took you out of the shop.  You can't form attachments to boys.  You're to be married.”

“Amatus is my friend, Novia.  I don't have any other friends.”  Cassia thought for a minute.  “Do you think you could take me to the river?”

“No, we are not going to the river to see Amatus.  Now get ready for your bath.  Supper will be ready soon.”

Novia helped Cassia out of her dress and wrapped her in a towel.  As they entered the hall, Cassia began to smell the water coming from the bath room.  Once there, Novia took her towel and Cassia entered the bath.

Cassia didn't look forward to being with her mother at supper.  Agatha was always in a bad mood and would snipe at Cassia; she was jealous of her daughter’s youth and beauty.  Inwardly, she couldn't wait for the day some old man took Cassia's youth away, too.

Agatha was responsible for teaching her daughter the womanly arts of spinning, weaving, music, and sewing, but Novia had taken over those duties as well.  The only time Cassia saw her mother was at supper.

Agatha was still at the table when Cassia came out of her bath.  Novia wrapped the towel around her and they walked back to Cassia's room.  As Novia dressed her, Cassia frowned.

“What's wrong?”  Novia asked her.

“Supper with my mother,” she replied.  “I thought she might have finished eating by now.”

“It's only for a short time once a day.  She can be mean, I'll give you that, but she lost many children before you were born and that might account for it.  Try to be kind, Cassia.”

“I do try to be kind.  I've never done or said anything wrong to her, and yet she seems to hate me.”

“Your mother is bitter, Cassia.  She feels she’s been cheated somehow.”  Novia took Cassia's shoulders and turned her around.  She looked into Cassia's eyes.  “You are a wonderful girl, Cassia, and you are well loved by your father.  Don't let your mother's jealousy ruin you.”  Novia kissed her cheek and hugged her.  “And I love you, too.”

Cassia held onto Novia and felt her warmth.  She would try to remember what Novia had said when she faced her mother at the table.

Agatha was staring into space when Cassia sat down.  The food looked wonderful, as it always did, and Cassia was hungry.  There were cakes and bread, and all kinds of fruit and fish.  Agatha smiled wickedly when she noticed her.  Cassia became uncomfortable, but still tried to enjoy her food.  Agatha smacked her lips.

“Your father has found a husband for you, Cassia.  His name is Cicero Gaius.  You remember him, don't you?”  Agatha took a swig of her wine.

“No, I don't think so.”  Cassia felt the hairs on her neck go up.  Her mother’s manner was frightening her.

“He's the man we entertained last week, the old man with the big belly.  He liked you on sight, or so he told your father.”

Cassia did remember the man.  He had leered at her across the table and made her feel naked.  He had spilled wine all over his toga, and food had dripped down his chin, which he failed to wipe off with a napkin.  The tops of his teeth were black and some were missing.

“Father wouldn't make me marry a man like that, would he?” she asked innocently.

“What do you think, girl?  That's what you're good for, raising your father's social status.  You don't think he's been good to you all these years out of love, do you?  You're such a little fool, Cassia.”  Agatha drained her cup of wine.  “Quintus is the one who made the marriage offer.  He offered Cicero Gaius a huge dowry to take you off his hands.”  Agatha looked hard at Cassia.  “I'm looking forward to your wedding night, my dear.”

Agatha broke out into a hideous cackle.  She laughed so hard she began to choke.  Cassia just stared at her in disbelief.  Cassia knew her father loved her.  He had always been kind and gave her the nicest presents.  How could he make her marry that horrible man?

“He sent word to me this afternoon.  I'm to get your things ready.  You’re to be married to Cicero Gaius at the end of the week, on your birthday.”

 

A Friend in Need

Cassia finished her meal in silence.  She hadn't tasted a thing.  When she was through she rose from the table, avoiding Agatha’s eyes.  She went to find Novia, and fell into her arms, sobbing.

“He's promised me to an old man, Novia.  How…how could he do that?”

Cassia's body was shaking violently.  Novia guided her to the bed, and they sat down.  Novia put her arm around Cassia’s shoulders.  Novia remembered Cicero Gaius from the week before and he was a hideous man.  Even Quintus must have seen that.  Was his lust for social esteem so great he would sacrifice his precious daughter to that monster?  Novia couldn't believe Quintus would sink so low.  There had to be some mistake.  She put her hands on Cassia’s shoulders and looked into her eyes.

“Wait till your father gets home.  Approach him and ask him gently if this is true.  In the meantime, cooperate with your mother.  We don't want her pushing you out the door before your father gets home.”

“Could she do that?”  Cassia asked, biting her lower lip, a habit she’d had since early childhood.

Novia put her arms around her and hugged her, wishing she had been more careful with her words.

“Flavius will stop her if she tries,” she said.

Cassia began to calm down. “Can we go to the river, Novia?  Please, I have to see Amatus.”

Novia looked at the girl and saw the tears and the sadness on her face.  She was going to tell her no, it was impossible, but she just couldn't.  If Cassia was set to marry that swine, there was nothing Novia could do about it.  She decided to give Cassia her wish.

“All right,” Novia said, “we can go to the river, but we can't stay there long.”

Cassia hugged Novia tightly, all the time saying thank you, thank you.  Novia helped Cassia get under the covers, then she kissed the girl on the cheek and stroked her hair.  Cassia looked like such a little girl.  How could she be anyone's bride?

“Goodnight, Cassia,” she said and left the room.

“Goodnight, Novia.”

Cassia began to think about seeing Amatus the next day.  She remembered the day she met him.  Amatus was thirteen when he came into the shop, and Cassia was ten.  He was selling fish and asked Flavius if he would buy some.  Flavius said no, not for the shop, but if Amatus wanted to sell him a small portion for the household, then Flavius would buy some.  Amatus agreed and began supplying the household with freshly caught fish on a daily basis.

At that time, Cassia was working in the shop with Flavius.  She and Amatus struck up a friendship, and Cassia would listen to Amatus talk about the river as if it had a personality.  

He told her about the bridges, and how some of them had dragons carved into them.  He told her about the stars and how bright they shone at night while he slept on the beach.  Cassia found his poverty-stricken life very romantic.  She in turn would tell him about her dream of marrying a general one day and traveling around the world.  She hadn’t shared her dreams with anyone.

When her father decided it was time for her to learn the ways of the nobility, he took her out of the shop and she stopped seeing Amatus.  She had no one to confide her innermost secrets to, and she missed Amatus terribly.  She would watch for him, hoping to catch him, but Novia kept a sharp eye on her and always called her away before she could see him.  It had been six months now, and with her impending marriage causing her such anxiety, she longed to see her old friend.

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