by Horatius Piscinus on Sun Sep 21, 2003 3:10 am
“Lar vialis, tuam fidem, but is this Marius I see so readily taking his leave for yet another journey? As well I might suspect.” Then mockingly adding in a little spell for Marius’ safety, “Iam, Iam, cito, cito…”
Marius, greatly encumbered by his menagerie, Curly Sue yiping, slowly turned to see Marcus Horatius approach.
“Ave, Mari,” said Marcus, his two fingers extended in formal gesture to call for his attention. “No need to reply, mi amice. I have heard you travel the northern routes. Would if I could travel along, but already I am detained here in the city, and now I am distracted far to the east. Already my brother’s son has followed the eagles along the Euphrates, and with him the sons of my wife’s sisters, too. Now, though, my very youngest has also joined the legions, and no less is now among the frumentarii as well as was his father and his father’s father. Ill tidings, he now learns the Arab’s tongue, to walk among them as we once traversed distant lands to gather news for our legions. And still more an ill omen too, this day has come to me, for when this morning I retired to my piscina to read what correspondence had come, I found some rodent had feasted there in the night, all my fish lay across my garden paths, flayed open, their heads torn from their scaley bodies, as though a column lay sprawled on desert trails, stript of their armor. Iuppiter omen avertat!”
“But to other thoughts now, mi Mari.” Horatius continued, speaking more to himself than taking notice of Marius, “I have heard you will travel with young Britannicus. Quod faxis deos velim fortunare. May I inquire if your journey shall therefore pass through Clausentum? Of course you will. Then may I ask a favor of you? I wish you to deliver this package to our old friend. His dies natalis is late next month you know. Nothing of importance, a few Saetabian sudarii, virgin cartae, and a fine volumen, its frontes smoothed to a sheen by pumice, the coruna of its umbilicus hand turned, with matching membrana and lora rubra. No redivivis rudis for Vado. Tell him to write another liber worthy of the Augustea regia I have sent for him to pen it on.
“Oh, and this too.” Horatius held out a purse of gold coins. “Give this to that old pirate, Ericius. His ship should be anchored upstream from Clausentum, or otherwise cruising the waters of Britannia. He was to deliver a selection of Maronean, Clazomenae, and of course Vado’s favored Falerian. Tell that scoundrel, too, I have received yet another message from our amicus Salix, via Columbia. This however is for you.” Marcus drew a miniature scroll from his sinus. On it was the new consul’s seal. “Should you run into any difficulty with the nabobs along the way, you are hereby recommissioned into the frumentarii, (the consul is an old rival , but also an old friend). If anyone ask, you are on a special mission, for him Deus tecum, amice.
Then without another word Marcus Horatius turned to leave, stopping as he noticed Marius’ spittle lying on the ground. “Old thoughts once more, Mari?” Without further gesture towards Marius, Horatius spat upon the ground, too. “Di tibi dent, quidquid, scrofula, mereris.” As suddenly as he had appeared Horatius had gone once more unseen, still lost in his own thoughts.
M Horatius Piscinus
Sapere aude!