Page 9 of Of Love and Treason
Abachum slapped Valens on the shoulder, with a firm shake of his head. “Trust me, your talents are of far better use elsewhere.”
“Where is everyone? Do I smell?” Valens lifted an arm and sniffed.
“Not too badly. Everyone should be out soon.”
“Val!”
Cato, the eldest of the brothers and Valens’s closest friend, crossed the courtyard, his unfashionably shaggy black curls bouncing around his chin.
Cato flung his arms wide in greeting and surprise. “What do you know? It worked. He’s actually on time.” He flagged a servant woman. “Phoebe, tell everyone he’s here.”
Valens crossed his arms. “You know I’m never going to trust you again.”
Cato laughed, then sobered as he glanced around the festive courtyard. “Welcome to the last wedding in Rome.”
“Your parents are kind to open their home like this.”
The house, while deceptively lavish on the outside, was simply furnished. Marius, a Persian shipping merchant, and his wife, Martha, had moved their three sons to Rome during the reign of Emperor Valerian when they’d heard the church was under intense persecution. There, Marius had set up his house and business, creating a facade of wealth as he funded asylum and escape for those seeking to leave the city. In the relative peace that followed in the wake of a new emperor, Marius and Martha had opened their home to Valens’s church.
“You know Father.” Cato shrugged and tugged at the neckline of his white tunic. “He will not hoard what God has given us.”
The large double doors on the far end of the courtyard opened and a short, womanly figure draped in a saffron-colored veil walked toward them, escorted by a man with thinning hair. Valens’s stomachwent jittery for a moment. He tried to remember what he was going to say. Following the couple were a few friends and family members and Cato’s wife, holding the hands of their two little daughters, who bounced and waved when they saw Valens. He nodded to Marius and Martha, walking arm in arm behind them all.
Valens took a deep breath and unlooped the satchel slung across his chest, setting it on the table beside him. He ran a hand through his hair and tugged his tunic straight, but those simple preparations did nothing to erase the unease he felt over Cato’s words.Wouldthis be the last wedding in Rome? And if it were, what would that mean for Rome? Forhim?
The couple stopped in front of him and he tried not to wrinkle his nose at the man’s choice of scented hair tonic. The man swallowed and fidgeted.
Valens smiled, looking at the eager faces gathered around them. He cleared his throat. “We’re gathered here today as friends and family, to witness and celebrate the binding together of this couple in sacred marriage.” As he spoke the familiar words, the nervousness faded, but the unsettled feeling remained. The emperor’s marriage ban would go into effect tomorrow. Rushed weddings were taking place all across the city tonight. The last few days in the notarii office had been busier than he’d ever seen. He’d been writing marriage contracts until his arm cramped and his fingers molded around the pen. He flexed his sore hand as the couple repeated the traditional vows and the bride received an iron ring signifying that her heart was forever bound to her husband.
Everyone cheered. Valens officiated the marriage document with his signature and wax seal while servants appeared with trays of food.
“You haven’t been around much lately.” Cato leaned against the table as Valens repacked his things.
Valens stoppered his ink bottle. “Haldas had us notarii working late all week. It turns out the threat of a marriage ban brings out the commitment in people—and the extra coin.”
Cato crossed his arms. “The edict won’t last. Or the emperor won’t.” He lurched forward to snag an egg stuffed with olive pastefrom a servant’s tray. It was true, or mostly true anyway. The marriage bans that had been placed into effect in the past were revoked by Emperor Augustus, who, noting that the morality of society disintegrated when women and children were not cared for, encouraged marriage and the growth of families in order to strengthen the moral backbone of Rome.
“Be careful where you say that.” Valens closed the satchel and set it aside. “The Praetorians are quite jumpy as of late.”
“Oflate?” Cato chuckled. “Isn’t that a prerequisite to join?” He clapped Valens on the shoulder. “Come on, let’s eat.”
Low tables sprawled in the courtyard, piled with food and surrounded by colorful dining couches. High-pitched squeals and shrieks of laughter split the hum of conversation.
“The girls are here.” Cato’s lips tugged up in amusement as he watched his little daughters dodging his father’s swinging arms, their black curls bouncing.
“Try to get me, Pappouli!” Lalia, the oldest, ran straight into Marius’s arms.
“Get me, ’Pouli!” The little one, Rue, ran back and forth, well out of reach.
“Hello, Marius.” Valens walked toward the older man, seated on a cushioned bench.
Marius used his whole body to nod and lifted a hand. “My boy.” His voice boomed and his stomach contracted with each word as if it took every muscle in his body to speak. He must be in pain again.
“Uncle Val! Uncle Val! Play with us!” Lalia yelled, wiggling out of Marius’s arms and running circles around Valens, curling her fingers into claws and holding them up to her eyes. “You’re a sea monster and you have to catch us!”
Valens stomped a foot toward her. She screeched and ran off to hide behind a row of tall columns ringing the courtyard.
Rue held up her arms with a singular demand. “Up.”
