by Laura Dowers
‘Why are you defending that man? If he has nothing, then he should have reported so. If he could not get into Rome, why has he not come back? I tell you, Lucius, he is up to something.’
‘He is one of Titus’s closest friends,’ Lucius protested, but there was a note of doubt in his voice. ‘Titus trusts him implicitly.’
‘That is because our dear Titus has a trusting nature. He cannot see when his goodness is being abused. You mark my words, we will not see Caecilius again. He will have seized his chance and sided with Brutus. I’ve said to Titus before that Caecilius had ingratiated himself for his own ends.’
Lucius frowned. ‘No, you are wrong, my love. I’m sure Caecilius Marcius is working for us.’
‘Doing what, may I ask? If he did get into Rome, is he rallying our supporters? Is he rousing his clients to fight for you?’
‘Yes, I expect so.’
‘Oh, you’re a fool, Lucius,’ Lolly said, slapping him hard on the shoulder. ‘You never used to be so trusting. It’s your age, I expect. Mark my words, Caecilius is rather too clever to support you without working out whether it is the best thing for him. He is biding his time, seeing what will happen.’ She slumped down onto the bed and groaned. ‘We are going to have to fight for Rome. I can feel it.’
‘If we must,’ Lucius nodded sadly.
‘Must! Don’t you want to?’ Lolly cried. ‘For the love of Jove, Lucius, we have been refused admission to the city our family helped create and our sons have been threatened with disinheritance. The throne belongs to our eldest son when you die, not this rabble who think they can take it from us on a whim just because some stupid girl kills herself.’
Lucius turned to her, his jaw tightening in irritation. ‘Lolly, have you had your eyes open when you’ve walked outside this tent? Have you seen how few men I have? Half of my army has deserted and the other half are thinking of doing so.’
‘I’m glad they’ve gone if they are so cowardly,’ Lolly declared. ‘We don’t need them.’
‘Do we not? How are we to fight without them?’
‘We have friends, Lucius. Not in Rome, perhaps, but elsewhere. The Tarquinii, for instance. They will aid us.’
‘Why should the Tarquinii come to our aid?’
Lolly shook her head. ‘Really, Lucius, where would you be without me? I love you desperately, but you are so simple sometimes. The Tarquinii will help us because they know what they get with the Tarquins. What kind of trade will the rabble do with them, do you think? What of our treaties with them? Will they all be suddenly rendered worthless? You mark my words, Lucius, the Tarquinii would much rather we ruled in Rome than the mob.’
‘You’re right,’ Lucius nodded, cheered by her words. ‘We will go to the Tarquinii and tell them they must help us.’
‘We will ask for their help,’ Lolly corrected. ‘I know it goes against your nature, my love, but you will need to be a little humble. And then, hopefully, if the gods allow, we can live in a civilised manner, in a proper domus once more rather than in this filthy, stinking camp. I swear if I have to squat in a field once more to relieve myself, I am going to kill someone.’
‘I’m surprised the king and queen let you leave the camp,’ Menenius said as he handed Caecilius a cup of wine.
Menenius had been fast asleep when Caecilius banged on his domus door. His wife had used her foot to push him out of bed and see what all the noise was about, and Menenius had been ready to shout abuse at whoever had disturbed him. That thought had departed as soon as the slave opened the door and Caecilius stepped inside.
‘The queen didn’t want to,’ Caecilius said, downing the wine in one gulp and holding the cup out to be refilled. ‘You should have seen the look she gave me.’
Menenius took the jug off his slave and told him he could go. He poured more wine for Caecilius. ‘Aye, she’s a suspicious one.’
‘They’ve closed the city gates, you know. I arrived just in time. I would have had to return to the camp if I hadn’t been able to get in.’
‘And if you had, the king wouldn’t have liked to hear you had no news,’ Menenius chuckled. ‘Probably have you executed.’
‘That’s not funny, Menenius.’
‘It’s just a joke.’
‘I’m not in a joking mood. By Hades, can’t you see the position I’m in? That we’re all in? If Brutus has his way, the monarchy is dead.’
‘I do see that, Cae.’
‘So, where does that leave us?’ Caecilius cried, slumping onto the couch.
‘I don’t understand you. Who are ‘us’?’
‘Those who are known to be friends with the Tarquins. What if Brutus takes it into his head to lump me and all the patrician families like mine in with the Tarquins and banish us all?’
‘He won’t do that,’ Menenius said.
‘You don’t know he won’t.’
‘No,’ Menenius admitted, ‘but there aren’t all that many patricians who are close friends of the Tarquins.’
‘Only fools like me. That’s what you mean, isn’t it?’
‘You’re determined to find fault with me, Cae,’ Menenius said stiffly, growing annoyed with his friend. ‘You know you deliberately allied yourself with Prince Titus because you thought it would be advantageous. It’s not my fault that doesn’t seem such a wise choice now, so don’t rail at me.’
Caecilius stared into his cup, chastened. ‘So, what do I do now?’
‘I’m surprised you’ve even got to think twice about this, Cae. You don’t agree with Brutus, you don’t want to get rid of the Tarquins, so why didn’t you stay in the camp with the king?’
‘Because it would have meant that I had chosen a side. But I’m tired of war, Menenius, and that is all the king seems to want to do. He’s not as good at it as he used to be, it’s costing more and more, and the army has grown resentful. The men have been growing ever more vocal about how their lives are being ruined by the king’s wars and I think there is a very real chance that the king will lose against Brutus if he has the people with him.’
‘There’s Titus,’ Menenius pointed out.
‘Yes, there’s Titus,’ Caecilius agreed, ‘but if Lucius is kicked off his throne, then Titus will have nothing. And if he has nothing, then I can expect nothing from him.’
‘I thought he was your friend.’
‘He is, but I have to think of my future, and I have to think of Volumnia and Caius.’
‘Well, it’s about time. You’ve never seemed to consider them before.’
‘If you’re going to abuse me, I shall leave,’ Caecilius said, getting to his feet.
‘Oh, sit down, you fool,’ Menenius waved him back to the couch.
Caecilius sat. ‘I need to be on the winning side, Menenius. Tell me honestly. Brutus has the people with him. Does he have the Senate too?’
‘Yes, I think he does,’ Menenius said. ‘The Tarquins have never been popular, Cae. The patricians have suffered just as much as the people under their rule. This is a great chance to be rid of them.’
‘Are you with Brutus, then?’
Menenius hesitated a moment before answering. ‘Yes, I suppose I am.’ He moved to sit beside Caecilius, who was rubbing his forehead as if he had a pain. ‘It’s difficult for you, I know. What does Volumnia say you should do?’
Caecilius sighed. ‘I haven’t been home yet.’
‘Oh, Cae,’ Menenius said reproachfully, ‘you should have gone home before coming here.’
‘Volumnia will tell me I should have stayed with the king.’
‘Is she so keen on the Tarquins, then?’
‘She’s keen on the proper order of things. Volumnia sees things very clearly, Menenius. The king is the ruler of Rome; therefore, he must always be the ruler of Rome. It doesn’t matter what he does, he is the king. It wouldn’t matter what I wanted or what was best for me. Always what is best for Rome.’ He laughed bitterly. ‘Except when it comes to Caius. Caius first, Rome second, me…’, he threw up his hands, ‘nowhere.’
‘She is an excellent mother,’ Menenius said, wondering if Caecilius’s assessment of Volumnia’s inclination was entirely accurate. He knew Volumnia was a royalist — her attitude towards the plebs made that a necessity — but she was also a pragmatist. She wouldn’t want to see her family ruined by association with the Tarquins, if not for Caecilius’s sake, then for the sake of Caius’s future. Menenius knew she would do nothing to endanger her son’s safety and fortune.
‘Is there any food in this domus of yours, Menenius?’ Caecilius asked.
Menenius grinned and went to the kitchen where he ordered bread, figs and pork to be taken to his guest in the triclinium. This done, he went to his tablinum and wrote a letter to Volumnia, telling her Caecilius was with him. He thought it right Volumnia should know of her husband’s whereabouts and give her time to think about what he should do when he returned home.
‘This is more like it,’ Lolly said softly to Lucius as they entered the domus of their Tarquinii host. She was treading on tiles instead of dirt, and the walls were solid stone rather than cloth that bent and billowed with every breath of wind. The furniture was excellent too, quite on a level with that she had enjoyed in Rome in her own domus. Lucius pressed his lips to her temple, a quick, chaste kiss that told her he understood and shared her feelings.
Their host held his arms wide in greeting and drew them deeper inside his home, pointing out proudly his latest acquisitions: a vase from Greece, a gold bowl made by a celebrated Etruscan artisan. Lucius and Lolly expressed their appreciation of his finery, while Titus, following close behind, smiled and nodded, less pleased than his parents at leaving the camp and the remnants of the royal army while his birthright was being threatened.
The party, consisting of a select few of Tarquinii’s most notable citizens, settled on the dining couches and the conversation immediately turned towards the treacherous behaviour of the Tarquins’ subjects. Lolly, skilful on such occasions, led the talk, and in short time, managed to steer the conversation onto how the Tarquinii could help their guests.
‘It seems I must take my throne back by force,’ Lucius said with an air of regret. ‘And yet, I don’t see how I can do that. My army is greatly depleted. My soldiers, encouraged by what has been happening in Rome, have deserted. Those left are my finest men, of course, and would take on the whole of Rome single-handedly if I asked them, but I don’t want to do that. Victory, I feel, must be assured before we stir ourselves.’
He looked at Lolly for confirmation he had done well, that he had spoken his lines correctly, that he had been suitably humble. The slightest nod confirmed Lolly was pleased with his performance.
‘What moves are afoot inside Rome?’ one of the Tarquinii asked. ‘To return you to the throne, I mean?’
Lolly glanced at Titus, who, taking his cue, said, ‘It is the mob who have turned on us. The patricians are wholeheartedly behind us, but regrettably, the mob hold sway. But we have reliable information that the houses of Vitellii, the Aquilii and many more are eagerly awaiting to hear our plans.’ It was a lie. Titus had heard from none of his friends in Rome. He hoped this was because it had proved impossible to send any letters and not because they had gone over to the rebels.
The Tarquinii exchanged glances among themselves. Then their host asked their guests if they would kindly retire to another room so they could discuss the matter in private. Lucius was about to protest that he would have an answer at once when Lolly’s hand on his forearm prevented him. He, Lolly and Titus were shown to another room and the door closed upon them.
‘What do you think?’ Titus asked quietly.
‘I think they have already decided to help us,’ Lolly said, patting his arm. ‘They just have to make a show of coming to a decision.’
‘That bastard Brutus,’ Titus spat. ‘I should have seen this coming after our trip to Delphi. The Oracle predicted this.’
‘What are you talking about?’ Lucius asked irritably. It had been a strain having to be so courteous, so amenable to the Tarquinii, and his temper, notoriously short, was close to breaking.
‘You remember, don’t you, Mother?’ Titus asked. ‘I told you what happened when we went to Delphi to see the Oracle.’
‘Yes, something about a kiss,’ Lolly said.
‘That’s right. The Oracle said the first of us to kiss his mother would be king. My brother and I assumed she meant you, Mother, that’s why we both hurried to kiss you on our return, but we were wrong. That I didn’t see it at the time makes me hate myself. Brutus fell on his face when we left the temple, deliberately, I know it now, and he kissed the ground. Well, don’t you see, Father?’ he said when Lucius’s frown grew deeper. ‘By our mother, the Oracle meant the earth, she meant Gaia. Brutus understood that right from the start and planned to rouse the people from that moment on.’
Lucius strode over to Titus and cuffed him about the head. ‘You fool. You mean to say you suspected Brutus would do this months ago and didn’t tell me?’
‘Not then, Father,’ Titus protested, rubbing his stinging ear. ‘I have only realised his intentions these past few days.’
But Lucius was not appeased. ‘Had I known then what you have just told me, I would have had Brutus killed the moment he returned to Rome and we wouldn’t be in this wretched state now.’
‘I’m sorry, Father.’
‘It is done, Lucius,’ Lolly said, pulling him away from Titus, worried he would hit their son again. She didn’t want to see Titus and Lucius fighting but she was also conscious of the poor impression it would make on their Tarquinii hosts were they to witness such animosity between father and son. ‘When we have won Rome back, you can have your revenge on Brutus.’
‘Oh, I will,’ Lucius assured her. ‘I will have his head cut off and his whole family disembowelled on Mars Field.’
‘Yes, my love,’ Lolly said soothingly. ‘But let us win Rome back before you console yourself with such plans.’ She turned as the door opened.
Their Tarquinii host stood in the doorway, a benevolent smile upon his face. ‘We have decided to help you,’ he said.
8
Collatinus paced up and down outside the Senate house, hands clasped behind his back, head down, staring at his feet. The Senate had received a message from the Tarquinii that they were sending envoys to treat with Rome on King Lucius’s behalf. This had been expected; it was supposed by none of the senators that the king would accept exile without a fight, but Collatinus felt that to accept the envoys at all would be a prelude to a negotiated return, and that was something he couldn’t accept. He could not bend his knee once more to the family that had been the cause of his wife’s suicide.
No, he was decided. If, as he feared, the Senate agreed to give Lucius back the throne, then Collatinus would leave Rome. The way he saw it, with Lucretia gone, he had nothing much to stay for anyway, not with Brutus acting the way he was.
Collatinus couldn’t help but feel a little resentful towards Brutus. He had expected his friend to back him and tell the Senate that they would not even give the Tarquins’ envoys an audience. Brutus had the Senate in the palm of his hand. No one, least of all Collatinus, would have thought it possible a month ago — the renowned idiot leading the Senate house — but all the senators listened to Brutus. And yet, Brutus had said they would receive the envoys but that their arrival should be kept from the people, lest there be civil unrest at the news.
‘Why shouldn’t there be civil unrest?’ Collatinus had cried. ‘Let the people know what the Senate is up to.’
But Brutus had smiled condescendingly at him and told him not to be such a bloody fool, they didn’t want unnecessary bloodshed. Collatinus had looked around at the senators, hoping that at least some of them would be on his side, but not one of them spoke up for him, not even Mettius Trebonius, who he knew hated the Tarquins almost as much as he.
The Senate meeting broke up, Brutus saying that only he, Collatinus and Mettius would receive the envoys. Collatinus had foll
owed the departing senators out of the Senate house and paced up and down outside, waiting for the envoys to arrive. He wished he had the courage to defy Brutus and shout out to all the people in the forum that the tyrant was sending his lackeys to the Senate, but he did not. What was the point? he told himself.
He waited, looking enviously on the people in the forum going about their daily business. How he wished he could forget the death of his wife as easily as they seemed to have done. They didn’t care about the tragedy that had befallen him; they were just glad it had resulted in the expulsion of the tyrant king and his family from Rome. They didn’t have to go home to an empty domus, slide into an empty bed and know that he would never see his beloved wife Lucretia again until he too passed into the Underworld. Why had she taken it upon herself to end her life? There had been no need. She would have borne no taint as far as he was concerned. No matter what Prince Sextus had done to her, to him she would have been as pure as the day he married her.
Collatinus shook his head to rid himself of the memory of his dead wife. It wasn’t manly for a man to dwell on his grief. His eyes narrowed, focusing on two men heading towards him. They seemed intent on their path and Collatinus drew in a deep breath as he recognised the determined step of those on official business. These were the king’s men, no doubt. He turned and hurried into the Senate chamber.
‘They’re coming,’ he told Brutus who sat on the chamber’s stone chair that had once belonged to the king of Rome. There had been talk of removing it from the Senate house, but it was extremely heavy and would have been difficult to lift. So, it had been left in situ and Brutus, ever since addressing the people from the rostra on that tragic day of Lucretia’s death, had made good use of it.
‘How many?’ Brutus asked.
‘Two.’
‘We should execute them,’ Mettius sniffed, coming up behind the chair and leaning casually over its back.
‘They are not Tarquins, they are envoys from Tarquinii and we have no grievance against them,’ Brutus said patiently. ‘We agreed to give them safe passage. We must not appear unreasonable.’
