“Oh, Max.” She put her hand on his arm. “I wish you wouldn’t blame our mother for what our father did. She was as scared of him as we were.”
Max didn’t remember his mother being scared. He remembered her being curt, dismissive, and scornful. Now, he realized that might have been her only way to hide her fear.
“Everything improved after he got himself killed,” Furia continued. “We left the city, moved out here, and I was lucky enough to meet Appius. Now that I’ve become a mother twice over, I understand why she acted the way she did. If Appius woke up one day with a mind to yell and beat me, gods forbid, I would do whatever it took to protect my children. Even if it meant staying with a horrible man who put a roof over my head and food on the table rather than being cast into the streets with nothing, or standing up to him and getting myself killed, leaving my children without a mother.”
Max nodded, mulling over her words. “I wish I’d known about you. I could have gone back for you. You could have had a better life.”
She grinned. “I have no patience for the sort of hoity toity life you found.”
“I didn’t either, most of the time.” He managed a chuckle. He had put Aelius and Crispina through many trials as they tried to civilize and educate him. “I think I made at least four tutors quit.”
Furia chuckled. “Don’t feel guilty about me. This”—she gestured at the peaceful farm—“is all I’ve ever wanted. And try to forgive our mother, if you can.”
Max heaved a deep sigh. He thought of Volusia, capable of forgiving her husband for dishonoring their marriage, even capable of befriending her husband’s lover. If he could be just a little bit like her, maybe he could find enough compassion to start to forgive his mother. “I will try.”
“Good. Will you come back inside now?”
He nodded, and allowed Furia to lead him back inside. In the cottage, Appius was sitting and talking with Max’s mother near the fire. Maia looked up when she saw them enter, but Appius kept talking, his back to them, describing the day’s harvest. Furia went to check on baby Appia, asleep in her cradle on the other side of the room. Max took a seat next to Appius, who fell silent.
Max had no idea what to say to his mother—not yet—so he turned to Appius. “The harvest was good today?”
Appius nodded and resumed talking with a careful glance between Max and his mother. From across the room, Furia caught Max’s eye and gave him a nod.
Max said nothing directly to his mother, nor did she try to speak to him again, but the family passed a pleasant enough afternoon and evening. He spent the night, as it was too far to ride back to Rome. He’d told Aelius and Crispina that he might be gone overnight, so they wouldn’t worry.
In the morning, Max woke early and tiptoed out of the cottage to check on Elephant. She’d passed the night in the pasture, with oxen, sheep, and a donkey for company and a full supply of grain.
A blanket of fog settled over the landscape, and dew sparkled on the grass. A chill wind, heralding autumn, made him shiver. Max took a deep breath of the crisp, fresh air. It smelled of manure and hearth-smoke, but the air was still fresher than any breath he could take in Rome.
Elephant trotted over to the fence and extended her nose in greeting. He stroked her, wondering what the air in Egypt smelled like. There was probably sand in it.
The door to the cottage opened and closed, and Furia emerged, Appia squirming in her arms. Furia smiled in greeting as she approached. “Usually Appia is the first to wake. I half-expected you to sleep ’til noon. Isn’t that what the posh Romans do?”
Max grinned. “Not anyone who’s ever been in the army.”
“Will you be rejoining your legion soon? The last time we spoke, you said you weren’t sure if you’d be able to, given all that happened.”
His smile faded as he remembered the reason he’d come to visit his sister in the first place. “I’ve been offered the opportunity to join a legion in the east. Syria, or Egypt. Somewhere like that.”
She shifted Appia in her arms. “So you’ve come to tell me that you’re leaving. Well, I’m sad to hear it, especially after we’ve just gotten to know each other, but you must do what’s best for you.”
Max let out a long breath. “That’s just it. I’m not sure if the army is the best choice, after what happened. I used to think it was. It seemed to be the only thing I was good at. And I have no idea what else to do with myself.”
“You’re not going to follow in your adopted father’s footsteps and become a politician?”
“Fuck, no,” he said, which made her laugh.
Furia sat Appia on the fence, an arm securely around her middle. The little girl reached out a chubby hand toward Elephant, who allowed her nose to be clumsily patted. “I don’t know if this would interest you, but I heard the other day about a parcel of land near here that’s going up for sale soon. It’s undeveloped, but a good size. You could clear it and build a nice house and have plenty of room for a few fields. Appius could help advise on the planting.”
“I don’t know if I’m cut out to be a farmer,” Max said. But the idea of owning land out here in the country intrigued him. He imagined a little piece of countryside that was all his own, far away from the noise and crowds of the city. A cottage just like Furia’s. He closed his eyes for a moment to imagine it. The image of Volusia, tending the hearth and sweeping the floor, rose in his mind.
No, that was nonsense. Volusia was not meant to be a rustic country wife.
“What about horses, then?” Furia asked. “You could breed them. Maybe even set up a riding school. There are plenty of wealthy families with country estates out here whose sons are headed for the army and need to learn how to handle a horse.”
Horses. The idea struck him with a visceral sense of rightness that took his breath away for a moment. He could spend his days out in the country surrounded by horses, putting his skills and passion to good use. He would be his own master, and wouldn’t have to follow anyone else’s orders.
Furia must have seen his reaction on his face, for she smiled. “It would be nice to have you close.”
