by Laura Dowers
Menenius wanted to say that no, he didn’t think Caius did care. It was a hard and bewildering thing to acknowledge after how close he and Volumnia had been, yet all the evidence seemed to point to the fact that Caius had turned his back on Rome and everything and everyone living in her. He looked up as he heard a long wailing cry.
Volumnia sniffed and wiped her nose. ‘That’s Virgilia. All she does is cry these days. I’ve told her to stay in her room. I can’t bear to listen to her.’
‘How’s Little Caius?’
‘Wondering what is going on,’ she said. ‘He keeps asking for his father. I don’t know what to tell him.’
‘Volumnia, my dear,’ Menenius said, taking her hands again, ‘I think you should leave Rome.’
She looked up at him in astonishment. ‘Leave Rome?’
‘Immediately. Caius will be coming and he means to kill anyone who stands in his way. And the Volsci will be merciless. It’s not safe for you.’
‘Caius will not allow them to kill us,’ Volumnia said, shaking her head. ‘Will he?’ she asked, suddenly doubtful.
‘It’s not a question of allowing them,’ Menenius said. ‘He will not be able to stop them. I think he is so consumed by hatred that he will risk everything he once loved.’
‘Even us?’
Menenius couldn’t answer truthfully. He had said Caius wouldn’t be able to stop the Volsci, but would he even try? Was every Roman, his mother included, his enemy now? ‘You need to leave Rome tonight. Use the darkness and get out of the city. Go to your farm. Take the slaves and shut up the domus. I should have seen to it weeks ago, not let you stay here to be abused by the plebs.’
Volumnia whirled away from him, too upset by his words to look him in the face. ‘I cannot believe it,’ she said after a long moment. ‘Caius would never—’
‘Caius has changed, Volumnia, you would hardly recognise your boy. The Volsci revere him. He was the one in command, not the Volsci leaders. And he enjoyed being in command, I could see that. He was so proud.’ He laughed ruefully. ‘You remember once how you said Caius was fit to be a king? Well, he almost is, in all but name.’
‘Of course they revere him,’ Volumnia said, sniffing through tears. ‘The Volsci have no one to match him. Not even that Aufidius.’
‘Oh, he was there with Caius,’ Menenius said.
Volumnia turned to him. ‘With him?’ she whimpered.
‘By his side,’ Menenius nodded. ‘All enmity seemingly forgotten. Maybe we should not be surprised. They must be very alike.’
‘They are friends, then?’
Was that jealousy he heard in her voice? Menenius wondered. ‘Allies more than friends,’ he said, wanting to be kind.
Volumnia gave a little nod, understanding. ‘Will Caius kill me, do you think?’ she asked quietly. ‘When he comes?’
‘How can you ask that?’ Menenius cried, horrified that she had been thinking it too.
‘I have betrayed him,’ she shrugged. ‘I should have gone with him when he was banished. I didn’t. I didn’t think of doing so, nor did Virgilia.’
‘You were too shocked to think of such things,’ Menenius said soothingly. ‘It all happened so quickly. And how could you just leave? What of the domus and your slaves? You couldn’t have just left them.’
‘Oh, you fool, what does the domus or the slaves matter when I have lost my son? He must hate me,’ Volumnia said quietly. ‘He must hate all of us.’
‘Indeed,’ Menenius nodded. ‘I do not think I will be spared.’ A thought suddenly occurred and he murmured to himself, ‘Why not? We have nothing to lose.’
‘What was that?’ Volumnia asked.
‘I said,’ Menenius said with sudden energy, ‘we have nothing to lose.’
‘What do you mean?’
‘You, Volumnia, I mean you. You must go to him, you must go to the Volsci camp,’ he urged. ‘He will see you, I am sure, and perhaps you can persuade him to desist.’
Volumnia’s eyes lit up. ‘Do you think he would see me?’
Menenius nodded. ‘If nothing else, it will be a chance to see him again before the killing starts. Won’t it?’
‘I long to see him again, Menenius,’ she said, her eyes filling with tears.
‘Then you will go?’
She nodded. ‘Oh, yes, I will go.’
Caius hadn’t really expected the Senate to agree to their terms. It was no surprise to receive the Senate’s envoy — not Menenius or Cominius this time — and hear him relate the Senate’s refusal, fear making his voice quiver. The envoy looked around at the gleeful Volscian faces and asked hurriedly for Caius’s response. Caius gave it and the man scurried away.
As soon as he had gone, Caius wished he had asked about his family. He hoped they had taken the thirty days he had given Rome to get out of the city, to go to the farm in the country. But what if they hadn’t? What if his mother, wife and child were still in Rome? He would give orders that they were not to be touched but he knew what soldiers were. There was no guarantee they would be safe.
He heard Tullus talking with his commanders as they examined a map of Rome. He knew they were working out a route through the city based on information he had provided. He had no sympathy for his former citizens, they deserved what was coming, but he could not rid himself of this anxiety about his family.
Tullus finished examining the map and straightened. His gaze drifted from Caius to over his shoulder. ‘Who’s this now?’
Caius turned and his stomach lurched as he saw who it was. No, they couldn’t be coming here, not here. He yelled at them, ‘What are you doing here? You shouldn’t have been let through.’
‘Caius,’ Volumnia cried and rushed towards him, but Caius took a step away. She halted, her feet digging into the earth, spilling soil over her sandals to pierce her soles.
Caius’s throat tightened. What had happened to his mother? She looked so thin and old, so ill. Virgilia was coming up behind, her hand holding onto Little Caius, who stared around at the soldiers with childish curiosity.
‘Who are they, Caius?’ Tullus asked.
Volumnia heard Tullus’s question. ‘I’m his mother,’ she said.
‘And I am his wife,’ Virgilia said, surprising Caius with her defiant tone. ‘This is his son.’
‘They shouldn’t be here,’ Tullus said, turning his back and standing between them and Caius. ‘Send them away.’
‘Please, Caius,’ Virgilia begged.
‘Send them away,’ Tullus growled.
Caius wanted to do as Tullus said. He wanted to send his family away, but he could not. Just the sight of them had wounded him, knowing he was the cause of their distress, and he could not simply dismiss them.
‘Get away from me,’ he snarled at Tullus. They stared into each other’s eyes until Tullus stepped to one side.
Virgilia bent down to Little Caius. ‘Go to your father.’
The boy walked over to Caius and held up his arms. Caius’s breath caught in his throat. He tried not to look at the little boy, but it was no good. The boy had his blood in him, he was part of him, and Caius bent and picked up his son. The boy put his arms around Caius’s neck and pressed his face against his father’s throat.
‘I’ve missed you so, Caius,’ Virgilia said, her voice breaking as she watched her son and husband embrace.
Caius didn’t trust himself to speak and merely nodded at her.
‘Caius,’ Volumnia said, ‘we must talk.’
‘In private,’ Virgilia added.
‘No,’ Tullus answered, stepping between Caius and the women. ‘You talk here, in my presence.’
‘Who are you?’ Volumnia demanded. Tullus told her and her look hardened. ‘I’ve heard of you,’ she said dismissively.
‘All Rome has heard of me,’ he retorted.
‘As all Italy has heard of my son,’ she hit back. ‘Fortunate for you, fortunate for all the Volsci, that my son turned to you in his distress.’
‘Mother,’ Caius
chided, setting down his son and pushing him back towards Virgilia. ‘Tullus Aufidius is my friend. You will not speak to him so.’
‘Does your friend tell you what to do, who you can talk to?’
‘He does not.’
‘Then we can speak in private?’
Caius hesitated, but then nodded. ‘Stand a little way off, Tullus.’
Tullus’s lips tightened. ‘Concede nothing,’ he warned and retreated, but to no more than twelve feet away.
‘It’s strange company you’ve been keeping, Caius,’ Volumnia said, trying to smile.
‘Company I have been forced to keep,’ Caius said.
Volumnia nodded. ‘Yes. Rome has treated you very badly. But does Rome deserve this?’ She gestured at the camp and soldiers.
‘How can you ask that? After what she has done to me, she deserves to be beaten.’
‘But do we deserve it too?’ Volumnia gestured at Virgilia and her grandson. ‘I know we disappointed you and have let you down.’
‘Do not say so, Mother.’
‘I will say so,’ Volumnia said determinedly. ‘We should have been with you in your banishment.’
‘I would not have asked you to suffer with me.’
‘We suffered anyway,’ Virgilia said. ‘To be without you was to suffer.’
He stared at her, feeling tears suddenly prick at the back of his eyes. ‘You can say that when I have never been much of a husband to you?’
‘You were all I wanted, Caius,’ Virgilia said with a sad smile and shrug.
He looked away from her, unable to bear her adoration. ‘I would have given orders you were to be spared.’
‘We both know those orders would be impossible to keep,’ Volumnia said, reaching up to touch his hair. ‘We would be killed, you know that.’
‘You should have left Rome,’ he burst out angrily. ‘I gave you time, I gave you thirty days.’
‘It never occurred to us to leave Rome,’ Volumnia said. ‘Rome is our home, it is your home. We kept hoping the Senate would see how wrong they were to banish you and let you come home. But they didn’t and now the wolves are howling at the gates.’
‘Am I a wolf now? Is that how you see me?’
She straightened and looked him in the eye. ‘I saw you as a great man, Caius. That is what the Sibyl prophesied you would be before you were born, but I should have paid more attention. She warned me that misery may ensue. And here we are.’ She gestured about them. ‘I have made you who you are, Caius, I must bear some responsibility for where we find ourselves now.’
’You are not to blame for this.’
‘Then who is?’
’Rome,’ he said despairingly. ‘She is to blame. Rome disowned me, after all I had done for her, and so I have disowned her.’
‘And so I will be blamed for bringing forth a son who has brought woe to Rome,’ she shrugged. ‘Even if we are not killed by your new friends, Caius, we will be killed by your enemies if you attack Rome.’
‘It cannot be undone. I have sworn to attack Rome, Mother.’
‘To whom have you sworn?’
’To the gods. And to Aufidius.’
‘You are bound then,’ she said with finality. ‘You cannot break your oath to the gods. You could to him.’ She looked with disgust at Tullus hovering nearby. ‘You must attack Rome.’
‘Yes, I must. But you will be safe. You will stay here.’
Volumnia shook her head. ‘And watch as you destroy Rome? No, Caius, I cannot.’
‘Go to the farm, then. Or go to Grandmother.’
‘I will return to Rome.’
‘I will not allow it,’ he said, gripping her arm tightly.
She looked down at his hand. ‘You will not stop me, Caius. Virgilia and Little Caius can stay if they want.’ She tugged her arm away and made to go.
‘Stop!’ Caius cried and put his hands to his head as if in pain. ‘I cannot bear this.’
He could not bear it; he was in torment. When it had been only him and Tullus and the other Volsci, his path had been clear. Rome had wronged him and she deserved her punishment. But then Menenius and Cominius had come, and though he had believed himself impervious to their pleas and assured Tullus he had no mercy in him, they had managed to get in under his rage and pierce his heart. And so, he had given them thirty days to get the Senate to change its mind, a final chance for Rome to save herself, for his old friends to save themselves. It was not his fault they had failed.
But this, this coming of his family was too much, it was not fair. How was he expected to hold firm to his purpose when his mother appealed to him with tears in her eyes? The woman who had raised him, loved him above all others, who blamed herself for his desperate need for revenge, and who was prepared to die for her part in Rome’s impending downfall. And die she would, he had no doubt, and that would be his fault.
Neither Volumnia nor Virgilia had spoken. He felt they must be holding their breaths, waiting to see what he would say or do next. He let his hands drop away, his arms fall to his side. He raised his face to the sky, closed his eyes and drew in a huge breath. He released it slowly, feeling his whole body shudder. It felt better to have come to a decision, but even now, he could not speak without resentment. ‘Ye gods, Mother, what have you done?’
‘What, what have I done?’ Volumnia asked sadly.
He turned to face her, tears running down his cheeks. ‘You have saved Rome. ‘ He smiled ruefully. ‘And destroyed me.’
‘Do not say so, Caius.’
‘It is so,’ he said. ‘It must be so. The gods will demand it.’
Volumnia clapped her hands to her mouth to stifle her cry. Caius held out his arms and she went to him, pressing her face into his neck, breathing deeply the smell of his skin, the warmth of his flesh, so long denied her. He held her for a long moment, then pushed her gently away.
‘Go now,’ he said, wiping his eyes angrily. ‘Go back to the Senate and say the Volsci will be leaving.’
Virgilia gathered her son into her arms and crushed him to her chest. ‘And then you can come home, Caius,’ she said, smiling through her tears.
Caius looked at Volumnia. ‘Wouldn’t that be lovely?’
Volumnia’s face screwed up as she nodded.
‘Pity,’ he said. ‘I would have liked to come home.’
‘But,’ Virgilia said frowning, looking between him and Volumnia, ‘you can come home. The Senate have already said so.’
‘Virgilia,’ Caius said, holding out his hand but not looking at her, ‘you will tell the Senate that my mother and you have done great service to Rome. Between you, you have saved her, and that accomplishment must be honoured.’
‘I don’t care about the Senate or honours. I just want you home, Caius,’ Virgilia whined.
She didn’t understand, he realised. She didn’t understand that he wasn’t coming home. His eyes met Volumnia’s. His mother understood.
‘Take my wife and son home, Mother,’ Caius said, glad his voice was sounding stronger.
Volumnia gave a sob, as if her heart was being torn from her body. She turned from him, wiping her face with the hem of her dress.
Caius kissed Virgilia and his son and then took a step back. Volumnia groped for Virgilia’s wrist and tugged her away. They had gone only a few feet when Volumnia halted and turned back to Caius.
‘I will see you soon, Caius,’ she called, her tone decided, defiant. ‘If you get there before me, wait for me.’
He felt a lump form in his throat at her words. ‘I will,’ he promised.
‘But Mother,’ Virgilia said as they stumbled along the track out of the Volsci camp, ‘we’ll be in Rome long before Caius.’
She really doesn’t understand, Caius thought as he watched his family walk away.
Volumnia had hurried back to Rome, forcing Virgilia and Little Caius to run to keep up with her.
When they arrived through the gates, Volumnia dispatched one of the guards to the Senate with the message that the
Volsci would not attack and that Rome was safe. As the doors of their domus closed, Virgilia and Volumnia heard the beginnings of celebrations in the streets outside.
Menenius was waiting for them. ‘Success?’ he asked hopefully.
Volumnia nodded, not looking at him.
‘May the gods be praised,’ Menenius breathed. ‘You have worked wonders, my dear.’
‘Isn’t it wonderful, Menenius? Caius is coming home,’ Virgilia beamed and told him of their encounter, leaving out not one detail and repeating most of them.
‘When?’ he asked, when she finally paused for breath. ‘When is he coming?’
‘Soon, I hope. And we must have a great feast to celebrate. All Caius’s favourite dishes. You should have seen him, Menenius. He was so thin. I don’t think he’s been eating properly.’
‘We must fatten him up, mustn’t we, Volumnia?’ Menenius looked around. ‘Where has she gone?’
‘I thought she was here,’ Virgilia said, perplexed. ‘Mother? Mother? Where are you?’
A slave appeared in the atrium and told them. ‘Domina retired to her cubiculum.’
Menenius nodded. ‘Yes, she looked very tired. I will leave you to rest, Virgilia, and go to the Senate. I will have them announce a public holiday to celebrate Rome’s salvation and Caius’s return. They owe him that.’
‘Oh yes, Menenius,’ Virgilia clapped her hands together and bent down to cuddle Little Caius in her joy.
‘I must just say goodbye to Volumnia,’ Menenius said and knocked on Volumnia’s cubiculum door. There was no answer. He knocked again. A strange foreboding came over him. He lifted the latch and thrust the door open. A cry escaped his lips.
Volumnia lay on the bed, one arm dangling over the edge. Blood ran down in a thick stream from the crook of her elbow. A dagger, its tip smeared with blood, lay on the floor where it had fallen after opening its mistress’s vein.
Caius had given the order to pack up the camp and retreat. The commanders had looked at him in surprise and confusion. Why, they asked, were they not attacking Rome? The thirty-day amnesty had passed and Rome had not conceded. They were supposed to attack, weren’t they?
