The Golden Dice - A Tale of Ancient Rome (24 page)

Vel had not been as accepting. His astonishment had quickly turned to disgust when Caecilia had told him. He and Thefarie were of a similar age. Staunch friends bound in common bond. In the year the war began, Thefarie had returned from the sea to find both a brother poisoned and a truce ended. Found also that Tulumnes, the murderer, had fled. Yet there was no time to pursue him. Rome needed to be defeated. And so a vow had been sworn to assume the role of avengers when the conflict was over. But it was not over. And there was no knowing when it would end.

“
She’s still meeting Caile in secret,” growled Vel. “Such trysts are not as clandestine as she thinks.”

Caecilia nodded. She would never understand why her friend sought such greenness. “I know she is being foolish. But she won’t listen.”

Vel took his tebenna from the hook on the wall. “Vipinas is livid. And it’s wounded Thefarie, too. He’s told me he dreads the thought of finding yet another bastard in his house.”

“
So you are helping both men by making Caile your squire.”

“
Yes, the youth is old enough to ride into battle with me.”

A tiny pulse beat in her temple. “You mean to help you defend the Tinia Gates, don’t you?”

His silence shocked her. She dropped the necklace, the pearls shooting and scattering across the tiles. “Oh Vel, don’t tell me you are leaving?”

Dropping his cloak to the floor, he crossed to her, his embrace giving her his answer.

Needing some air, she broke from him and ran into the garden arcade. At the sight of their mistress barefoot and with loosened hair, the garden slaves disappeared.

Mastarna followed and tried to hold her but she pushed him away. “Why must you go? You are needed here! Kurvenas has commanded you to defend the gates and hold fast the northwest bridge. Isn’t the danger of leading skirmishes to harry Roman troops enough?”

“
Please, Bellatrix, you must understand. While Genucius has yet to reestablish the forts and stockades, there’s an opportunity for me to take reinforcements to the Faliscans. Thefarie is to do the same for Capena.”

“
Capena? When did that city need such assistance?”

“
Because it fears Rome just as much as Falerii.”

Caecilia felt faint. She sat down on the arcade seat. When was her world ever going to remain solid beneath her feet? “Then why not send Vipinas north? He can take his grandson with him.”

“
You know I’m familiar with the terrain. And Vipinas is seventy and too old to hold command.” Mastarna sat down next to her on the stone bench. “Please listen, Bellatrix. The Romans fight through all seasons now. And when we thought we had driven them home by defeating Sergius, they returned just as fierce and persistent as ever by the end of that autumn. We gained the chance to gather fuel and restock our granaries in the lull, but you know this past winter was the harshest we’ve ever seen. No cargo boats could bear goods along frozen rivers. And the main roads to the west and south have been blockaded. The Romans are relentless.”

Caecilia remained silent, clenching a thick branch of the grapevine entwined around the arcade column. She remembered the sick feeling in her stomach when she’d seen Sergius and Verginius return in winter. And now new leaders had been elected. The choice of five commoners amazed her, stirring memories of her father’s ambitions. His chance to govern Rome as a commoner had always been denied him. How proud he would have been to finally see men such as Genucius lead an army. As always such thoughts were bittersweet, though. She was glad her father was not alive to see that the chief goal of the plebeian generals was to destroy his daughter.

And yet, in a way, shouldn’t she thank the Romans? The constancy of their hatred had led to Vel remaining in the city. And though he could be harmed just as easily mere yards from the gates as he could miles away, it comforted her to know she could tend to him if he was wounded. And that if he died she would be able to anoint and wrap his body, kiss his lips and hold him even if he was stiff and cold.

She let go of the vine and put her arms around him, laying her head on his shoulder. “I wanted you to see our child born. I wanted you to cut the cord.”

“
I will try. If I succeed at the League, I should be able to return by the time the babe is due.”

Yet again, he had stunned her. “You are going to the League! What purpose will that serve? The other Rasennan cities have made it clear they have no interest in Veii’s war.”

Mastarna took both her hands. “I told you the Romans are like soldier ants, Bellatrix. It will take many to destroy them.”

She stood up, staring at him, finally realizing what he was saying. There was a pain beneath her breastbone. “You promised you would not seek to conquer Rome!”

He did not try to touch her. “Furius Camillus’ appointment has made me change my mind. He is ruthlessly occupying Faliscan farmland and has almost succeeded in cutting the main road to that city. There is iron within him. A resolve that does not falter. And he is gaining influence with the plebeians. He stirs them to continue fighting by promising them land. And with the harsh winter, Rome is suffering food shortages. Desperation alone will drive it to take Falerii, Capena and Veii. And then who will stop them? The Twelve must recognize that.”

Camillus. How she loathed him. The man who offered her consolation when she was first married to an enemy to seal a truce but then betrayed her. His drive to destroy Veii had once inspired her but then she saw him for the wolf he was. War was always his intention even if it meant she died a hostage at Tulumnes’ hand. Her falling in love with Mastarna and choosing Veii merely gave him the excuse he needed to forsake her. “Why didn’t you tell me sooner, Vel?”

“
Please don’t be angry. You know I don’t want to leave you.”

She shook her head. “That’s only half the truth, isn’t it? I know you too well. You love us but it is not enough for you. You hate being hemmed in by domestic dramas. There is always a restlessness within you. As if only by defying death you truly feel alive.”

His face settled into harsh lines, heralding the familiar closing of emotions. “What more do you want from me? I’ve remained here all year because I wanted to protect you from Kurvenas. I angered him after the battle with Sergius, but my feud with him is over. I love you. I love our sons. I’ve not failed you. But launching raids on Genucius’ army is not enough; I want a chance to ensure that our family and all Veientanes can finally live in peace.”

“
So suddenly you trust Kurvenas! Suddenly he wishes you to be his advocate. You who are his rival? Why doesn’t he go to Velzna? It’s more fitting that a lucumo represents Veii at the congress.”

Mastarna sighed. “You know why. The stigma of Tulumnes hangs over him. Kurvenas understands this. He believes I would have a greater chance of persuading the Twelve to attack Rome.”

“
Or maybe he just wants to get rid of you by stroking your vanity. Lusinies could go just as easily. He is well respected. His battered and scarred countenance speaks of his valor.”

“
Lusinies has no influence with Aule Porsenna. That zilath leads the council this year. My ties with him might add weight to our submission.”

At the mention of the Tarchnan magistrate, Caecilia felt a flare of resentment. He was Seianta’s father. It reminded her that Mastarna had always been present when his first wife bore their children. And held them when they died. With Vel’s news, her dream of handing their baby to him from the birthing chair had vanished. Then, as quickly as her jealousy spiked, she felt ashamed that his heartache over his lost family could cause envy. “And you really believe that Kurvenas will not harm our family while you are absent?”

“
He has given me his assurance.”

Caecilia walked into the garden courtyard to gaze at the skyline of blueness and distant mountains where her husband would soon journey. Her bare feet felt the heat retained by the sun-warmed paving.

Was she wrong to beg for his sole attention when so many needed it? To expect him to put duty to family over his city? She believed he was faithful to her but this was different. Infidelity with an enemy was infinitely more consuming—and more deadly.

Mastarna stood beside her. She let him put his arm around her.

“
I’m scared, Vel. What about the Veientanes? Many here believe I’m the one who caused the war. Animosity might grow against me.”

“
The people know you did not cause this. Rome had already decided to declare war whether you returned to me or not.”

“
But who will remember that if Kurvenas breaks his word and stirs up rancor? If he, like Tulumnes, wants to kill me? What happens if you don’t return? If our sons are seen as Roman and not Veientane?”

“
Hush. You worry too much. Nothing has happened to you all the other times I’ve left the city. You are granted more respect than you credit.”

“
But that was before the Romans campaigned all year round! You can’t truly promise that I will be safe, can you?”

His pause made her heartbeat quicken. She clung to him, wanting words of reassurance even if they were baseless.

He kissed the top of her head. She could feel his breath on her hair. “Vipinas owes me a debt for removing his grandson from trouble. He will protect our family.”

She turned to face him. “As long as he no longer resents the fact a Roman killed his son and left Caile without a father.”

Grasping her forearms, he shook her gently. “You know he does not blame you for that. He has no score to settle with you. Please, Bellatrix, don’t torment yourself.”

She scanned his face, doubts churning. Yet she did not want him to leave with only memories of sharp words and anger that might never be recanted. She’d done that once before and nearly lost him forever. “I just want this war to end! I just want the Romans to go away!”

Vel pointed to the arcade. “We will be together in summer. There will be grapes on the vine when I return. I will hold our baby.” He cupped her chin in his palm. “And remember, Nortia brought you back to me for a reason. She means us to be together.”

Caecilia tensed, the memory of the golden tesserae pricking her conscience. And as she kissed him all she could think was whether she should finally tell him her secret. But how could she? After all these years? Admit now that she had flouted, not followed, fate. For the dice throw had pointed to Rome, not Veii. It was her choice alone to betray her people and pledge allegiance to his. And retribution may well follow for defying the goddess. Rome might claim Aemilia Caeciliana after all.

Glossary

Cast

She found Cytheris in the kitchen.

Caecilia liked visiting there. Its coziness soothed the vestiges of homesickness that sometimes filled her. The room was most like the atrium in her father’s house where the hearth served as the heart of the home. A humble domain where spelt cakes were offered to the household spirits in the same place where meals were cooked or she sat reading.

Cytheris was gossiping with the cook. A favorite pastime. There was more than one tooth missing now in the maid’s grin, her ankle-length plait coiled upon the tiles. The two women were laughing as they plucked ducks for dinner, a pile of feathers and down heaped on the floor around them. A sauce bubbled in a pot above the fire, the aroma of coriander, fish sauce and honey marinating the air.

A boy was playing a flute as they worked, their task eased by his trilling. He sat, relaxed, feet propped against a chair, cheeks ruddy from the heat within the chamber. Caecilia usually enjoyed the Rasennans’ delight in music, glad they used it for the everyday instead of saving it only for hymn or dirge. Today she barely noticed it.

All three servants stood and bowed when she appeared at the doorway, their amusement dwindling, surprise upon their faces. The mistress had already settled the menu for the day; there was no reason for her to attend there.

Cytheris hastened to Caecilia’s side. “My lady, is there anything the matter?”

Needing the consolation of the Greek woman, and realizing she did not want to be overheard, Caecilia fumbled with the set of keys upon her girdle. “No, I’ve just come to choose a special wine for dinner. Fetch a jar and come and help me.”

After lighting a torch they entered the large storeroom, the piquant scents of cooking giving way to fustiness and a dry earthen smell. Clay amphorae, some tall as men, stood like shadowy figures in the dimness, crammed with figs and olives and oil. The siege had not yet threatened this household with starvation.