Call to Juno (A Tale of Ancient Rome #3) by Elisabeth Storrs

Author:Elisabeth Storrs [Storrs, Elisabeth]
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 9781503951952
Published: 2016-04-19T04:00:00+00:00

Caecilia woke. Her mouth was dry. For a moment she was disoriented, wondering why she was sleeping in daytime.

She dug the heels of her hands into the mattress, pushing herself to sit, anxious to find Larce and Arnth. “Cytheris! Where are they?”

Dozing in a chair, the handmaid’s eyes flew open at her mistress’s croaky voice. “They’re fine, my lady.” She hastened to the bedside and reached for Caecilia’s hand. “Larce is playing with Semni. And Arnth is sleeping in his room. The rash has almost faded. I thought it best to give you some peace. The fever has gripped you for days.”

Caecilia was not ready to finish the roll call. “Tas and Thia?”

“The gods have spared them.”

She found herself. Cytheris placed her arm around her. “There, there, mistress. The worst is over.”

Caecilia broke from the maid’s embrace and rested the back of her head against the headboard. “Bring them to me.”

Cytheris hesitated. “Soon, but first let me bathe you and change your clothes. It’s better you greet them with untangled hair and smelling clean.” She bustled to the doorway, beckoning to the slave boy who was stationed outside to fetch hot water and fresh sheets.

“Come, my lady, let me help you to stand.”

Too long in bed, Caecilia let the servant assist her to step onto the footstool and then the floor. The brief exercise tired her. She closed her eyes to let giddiness pass, then, with unsteady steps, walked to the armchair and sat down.

The slave boy returned with a pitcher. Cytheris dismissed him, then poured some hot water into the ewer, steam curling from the surface of the fluid. The handmaid’s face was lined with fatigue. Her vigil had been lengthy.

“Cytheris, do you remember that day in the family sanctuary with Artile? When he predicted my future as a mother?”

The Greek woman paused in helping her mistress from her sweat-stained nightdress. “Yes. But why do you speak of the rogue now?”

“Because of what he said. That I would bear a son who would bear a son.”

“And you have born three.”

“But what if it means only one will survive to be a man? I kept dwelling on it as I lay watching my boys suffering with fever.”

“You always worry too much, my lady. One may never marry, or sire only daughters. And one might be like Prince Tarchon, not interested in women at all.”

Caecilia blinked, aware yet again how she could take a kernel of concern and let it swell into calamity. She hugged the maid, taking Cytheris off guard. “What is that for, my lady?”

“For being a good friend.”

Nonplussed at the declaration, the servant eased herself from the embrace and then dipped the cloth into the bowl. “Lift your arms so I can wash you.”

Caecilia felt childlike as she stood and held on to the chair for balance. Cytheris wiped her clean from armpit to hand, and between each finger. Then, sweeping the princip’s loosely plaited hair to one side, she pressed the cloth along neck, shoulders, and spine before bathing breasts and belly.

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