Master and God by Lindsey Davis Read Free Book Online Page B

– should be recycled. Vespasian had probably not envisaged that one day the head of the Emperor Nerva would replace that of his own son Domitian.
    Since the amphitheatre was slathered in many other statues, sculptors were happy; their agents and middlemen, who took the larger share of their fees, wore even bigger smiles. When Titus dedicated the arena after the fire, suppliers of exotic animals and gladiators enjoyed a smackeroo bonanza. The opening games lasted around a hundred days, with nine thousand wild beasts slain in the process – together with some humans. The knock-on effects as obscene profits were splurged would bring joy for years to bankers, builders, silver- and goldsmiths, gourmet chefs, marble importers, traders in silks and spices, providers of carriages with expensive coachwork, undercover betting agents, suppliers of performing dwarves, and everyone in the multiple branches of the sex trade.
    Less obvious was that a hundred days of public partying were a boon to hairdressers. Every woman who disported in the spanking new seats, and many men too, wanted to look smart. Although some relationships would break apart under the strain of so much enjoyment, numerous other pairings were begun, developed or cemented, during the arena games. This required endless work with curling irons, colours and conditioners, wigs, toupees and topknots.
    Though still a young girl, Flavia Lucilla worked hard while she had that chance. She earned good money. She even won more, because one day when she was sprucing up imperial locks that had drooped in the hot sun, her quick fingers managed to grasp and hold one of the gift balls that Titus flung into the crowd; some were for clothing or food, but hers gave a cash prize. At the same time, she established a presence, gained her confidence, and acquired clients who would stay faithful to her throughout her working life. Titus’ inaugural Games left her just about safe financially, although immediately beforehand – during the few months after she went to the vigiles – her life had been perilous and maturity dropped on her abruptly.
    The first shock was the unexpected loss of her mother. Lucilla had furiously planned a break with Lachne straight after her interview with Gaius Vinius, but a quarrel was pre-empted by the fire raging so close to where they lived. She found Lachne hysterically running up and down stairs from their apartment and loading their possessions onto a cart sent by her lover, Orgilius. Smoke filled their street, yet members of the vigiles were telling everyone to wait, though to be ready to evacuate if the fire crossed the Via Flaminia. It never did. People disobeyed the orders anyway.
    Lucilla deferred her quarrel. She helped Lachne load the cart, then struggle through the crowded streets to another apartment that Orgilius put at their disposal. This would have been generous, Lucilla thought, if he had not so obviously been protecting his own sex-life. The place was better – one storey lower – though it was not where Orgilius lived himself. Lucilla was sure he must be married. Oblivious to this glaring conclusion, her mother declared how useful it was that he owned so many properties. Lachne settled into the improved accommodation like a smart limpet who had drifted to a more promising rock. Even if their old apartment survived, she was not going back.
    Flavia Lachne had the fine features that were common among slaves and ex-slaves of the aristocracy, who could afford to buy their staff not simply for potential use but for appearance. The Flavians were a frugal family who usually picked their slaves because they were affordable, yet Lachne had been ornamental too. In later life she inclined to stoutness, but she always had a striking, regular face with large dark eyes and a figure she made the most of. She looked like a woman who was up for anything; Lucilla presumed she was.
    As far as anyone knew her origins, Lachne came from the Aegean coast of Asia,