The Last King of Rome

by Laura Dowers

  ‘The snake is a symbol of guardianship,’ she said and fell silent.

  Titus and Arruns frowned at one another. ‘Could it mean then that our father is taking good care of Rome, being a wise king, building the new temple?’

  The Oracle suddenly shifted her gaze to Iunius. He felt his breath catch in his throat. Those shards of ice again!

  ‘He who first saw the snake is the true guardian of Rome,’ she said.

  Iunius knew he had been the first to spot the snake, not Lucius, as Titus and Arruns believed. Me, Rome’s true guardian? His legs suddenly felt like jelly and he wanted to leave the temple, get away from the Oracle and her penetrating stare. But Titus was speaking again.

  ‘Oracle, tell us, which son of King Lucius Tarquinius will succeed him to the throne of Rome?’

  The Oracle did not hesitate. ‘The first to kiss his mother will be the supreme power in Rome.’

  ‘But—,’ Arruns began.

  The Oracle thrust out her hand. ‘You have had your answers. Go now.’ And she pulled her veil down, hiding her face from view.

  Back out in the sunshine, they thanked the priests with the briefest of nods and hurried past the queue of hopefuls. The queue had grown since they first entered the temple and Iunius couldn’t help wondering if they knew what they were letting themselves in for if they were granted an audience with the Oracle. It had been an unnerving experience.

  ‘What will Father think of the Oracle’s answer?’ Arruns asked his brother.

  ‘No idea,’ Titus said dismissively, occupying himself rearranging the items in his now half-empty satchel.

  Arruns looked to Iunius as if he was going to ask him the same question, but then looked away. Iunius knew what that meant. Arruns figured that Iunius, being the family idiot, wouldn’t know and wasn’t worth asking.

  ‘Let’s go back to our room, pack up our things and be on our way,’ Titus said. He strode off, heading up the path.

  ‘Why the hurry?’ Arruns asked as he and Iunius hurried to catch up.

  ‘Because Titus wants to kiss your mother,’ Iunius said mockingly, unable to help himself.

  ‘Shut your face, Iunius,’ Titus said.

  ‘Sextus will probably kiss her first,’ Arruns said in a low voice so Titus couldn’t hear. ‘Or I might.’

  ‘Not if your brother can help it,’ Iunius said. ‘If I were you, Arruns, I’d watch my step on our journey home. You might have an accident.’

  ‘Don’t be stupid,’ Arruns laughed, but Iunius heard the note of unease in his voice. ‘Titus wouldn’t hurt me.’

  ‘You’re sure of that, are you?’

  ‘Of course I’m sure. You’re an idiot, Iunius, what do you know?’ Arruns smacked Iunius on the shoulder. ‘Come on. He’ll moan if we slacken.’ Arruns hurried off after Titus.

  Iunius kept back a little, thinking. The Oracle’s answer to Titus’s question had been surprisingly, uncharacteristically straightforward. It was easy to take it at face value and that nagged at Iunius. He couldn’t believe the answer was that obvious. All the next king had to do was kiss his mother? Really? And then it came to him. The mother in the Oracle’s answer wasn’t Lolly, the Queen of Rome. It was the universal mother, Gaia.

  ‘Come on, Iunius,’ Titus called, breaking into his thoughts, ‘or we’ll leave without you.’

  Iunius quickened his pace, but then managed to trip on a stone and fall flat on his face.

  ‘You great fool,’ Titus said, giving him a not too gentle kick in the thigh. ‘You’re a bloody embarrassment. Get up.’

  Iunius pressed his lips to a seam of dirt between the stones. There, he had given his mother a kiss. It can’t hurt, he said to himself, even if I am wrong about what the Oracle meant.

  ‘Oh, my boys.’ Lolly hurried towards Titus and Arruns, her arms outstretched, as they arrived back at the domus. She leant in to kiss Titus, then recoiled. ‘Ye gods, you stink.’

  Titus grabbed hold of Lolly and kissed her cheek with a loud smack. Releasing her, he cast a triumphant look at Arruns, who was threw down his bag with a groan.

  ‘Don’t be so rough,’ Lolly said, wiping her face where he had kissed her and examining her hands.

  Arruns stepped forward and pecked his mother’s cheek. ‘Pleased to see us, Mother?’

  ‘Of course I am,’ she said, smiling at him, ‘but you know how I hate dirt.’ She clapped her hands and a slave stepped forward, his head bowed. ‘Prepare baths for the princes immediately. Have you eaten?’

  ‘Not a thing since this morning,’ Arruns said. ‘Titus was in a hurry to get home.’

  ‘Ah, he wanted to see me,’ Lolly cooed, missing the look that passed between her two sons. Her face fell. ‘Oh, Iunius, I didn’t see you there.’

  Iunius stepped out of the atrium into the light. ‘Lady,’ he said, bowing his head.

  ‘Is he staying?’ Lolly asked Titus.

  Titus shrugged. ‘He may as well.’

  ‘A bath for him too,’ she told the slave who scurried off to get the baths ready.

  ‘Where’s Father?’ Arruns asked, flopping down onto the couch and snapping his fingers at another slave for a drink.

  ‘Oh, he’s at the senate. Sextus is with him. They’ll be back soon and we can all dine together. Lucius will be pleased to see you.’ Lolly sat, watching every mouthful Arruns took of the wine. He drank too much, in her opinion. ‘He’s telling the senate Rome needs to go to war.’

  ‘Again?’ Titus cried, snatching the wine jug from Arruns and pouring himself a cup. He waggled the nearly empty jug at Iunius. Iunius took it and poured what little was left into a cup for himself.

  ‘Well, the new temple cost a fortune and now there’s no money left in the treasury. He’s raised taxes but it’s not enough. You know your father doesn’t like to be poor—’

  ‘Poor!’ Arruns laughed at the very idea.

  Lolly cast a reproachful look at Arruns. ‘And the Rutuli have been making trouble of late.’

  ‘So, Uncle wants to go to war to get his hands on their gold,’ Iunius said, forgetting for a moment he was supposed to be stupid and should never make any noise, especially in front of Lucius or Lolly, that drew attention to himself. ‘Forgive me. I should not have spoken.’

  ‘But it’s true,’ Titus laughed. ‘Why work when you can steal is my father’s motto.’

  ‘Titus, don’t be vulgar,’ Lolly scolded.

  ‘You notice Mother isn’t saying it’s not true,’ Titus said, leaning over the couch to Iunius, ‘just that it’s vulgar to say it out loud.’

  Lolly gave an exaggerated sigh. ‘And to think I missed you when you were gone.’

  ‘Well, I’m all for war,’ Arruns said. ‘It will be good to give those Rutulis a good thrashing.’

  ‘It won’t be an easy war,’ Iunius said. ‘They’ll defend their riches hard. They won’t just let us take it from them.’

  ‘Oh, listen to the master strategist here,’ Titus rolled his eyes at his mother and Arruns. They laughed. ‘All the better, Iunius. Who wants an easy victory?’

  ‘That’s assuming Rome will be victorious,’ Iunius muttered.

  ‘Ye gods, Iunius, you’re such a pessimistic prick,’ Titus said, throwing a cushion at his cousin. ‘You know, I really don’t know why we let you tag along with us.’

  ‘For comic value,’ Arruns said. ‘We can always rely on Iunius to give us a good laugh.’

  Iunius smiled thinly, taking their insults as he always did, as he was expected to do. But his mind was on the Oracle and the kiss he had given Gaia.

  Someday, maybe, he would be the one who was laughing.

  23

  Lucius banged his hand down on the table, making it creak ominously. ‘Stop your excessive drinking, Sextus. You’re turning this camp into a tavern.’

  Lucius had persuaded the senate and Rome was at war again, this time with the Rutuli. But the Rutuli had learnt a lesson from the Gabii victory of years before and refused to come out of their citadel, f
orcing the Roman army into another siege. Lucius was forced to adopt a waiting strategy, hoping the Rutuli supplies would soon run out and they would have to surrender to ensure their survival.

  ‘But there’s nothing to do,’ Sextus protested, fiddling with the hem of his tunic. ‘If we’re not going to fight, we have to do something to keep ourselves amused.’

  ‘Find something else,’ Lucius snarled. ‘I won’t be in command of an army of drunks.’

  ‘I don’t let the men drink,’ Sextus said. ‘Only the commanders.’

  ‘I don’t care. You stop, you hear me.’

  ‘Or what? You’ll have me whipped? Oh, Father, I’m sorry,’ Sextus said quickly. ‘I didn’t mean that, I didn’t.’

  ‘You can go,’ Lucius said, turning away, but as he heard Sextus lift the tent flap, he called, ‘Sextus, do you hate me?’

  ‘Of course not, Father,’ Sextus said, and Lucius could tell he had embarrassed his son by the question.

  ‘That’s good,’ Lucius said. He waved his hand. ‘All right, you can go. Remember what I said.’

  Lucius yawned. By Jupiter, he was tired. He wasn’t young anymore, however much he tried to fool himself, and he hadn’t anticipated how draining this campaign would be. He should have stayed at home with Lolly this time, sent someone else, sent his sons to wage the war alone. This would be the last time, he promised himself. He’d beat the Rutuli and then he would go back to Rome and stay there.

  He just had to beat these damn Rutuli. It never used to be this difficult, he thought. Time was when I faced an enemy, I cut them down easily. Now, I have enemies who openly defy me, and not just here. In Rome, senators debate me, criticise me for my policies, my actions. I can’t silence them all.

  Lucius stared into the dark corners of his tent and another thought came to him, one that made him shiver. Was the Rutuli resistance evidence of the curse working or of the Sibyl’s prophecies coming true? He hadn’t made any propitiatory sacrifices of late, he’d just been so busy. He should write to Lolly and tell her to sacrifice a bull to Jupiter. That would surely appease the great god and Jupiter could persuade Poena to be kind to him. Lucius took out a pen and sheet of parchment from the small chest on his desk. He began writing to Lolly, telling her to make the sacrifice and to pray for a speedy conclusion to the war.

  Sextus leant back and belched loudly, sighing with pleasure as the gas left his body. This was more like it. This was better than sitting alone in his tent and being a good soldier as his father wanted. He reached for the wine jug on the floor beside his chair and lifted it to his lips. The liquid spilled out, soaking his cheeks and tunic. Laughter erupted around him.

  ‘There’s none to compare with her,’ Sextus heard Collatinus say when it died down. ‘Not one in Italy, let alone Rome.’

  ‘Who you talking about?’ Sextus asked, cradling the jug.

  ‘Lucretia,’ Collatinus replied, ‘my wife.’

  ‘Never seen her,’ Sextus said dismissively. ‘Can’t say.’

  ‘Sextus, you have seen her,’ Collatinus said impatiently, turning to lean over the back of his chair. ‘She was at Opiter’s party last month.’

  ‘I don’t remember,’ Sextus frowned.

  ‘I don’t suppose you do,’ Collatinus smirked. ‘You had your face pressed between Virginia’s tits the whole evening.’

  Everyone laughed, including Sextus. He remembered Virginia, a young woman whose very ample breasts he’d decided he wanted to explore, and he’d dragged her off to the garden and pulled her dress from her shoulders. She had protested a little and kept looking over her shoulder to make sure no one was watching, and he knew she had let him do what he wanted only because he was the son of the King. Being a prince certainly came in handy. He had left her in the garden half an hour later to make herself respectable and staggered back to the party. Now he thought about it, he remembered seeing Collatinus standing by a column with a woman at his side as he went back into the house, but she had been so quiet he hadn’t bothered to see if she was pretty.

  ‘Is she a goer then?’ he asked, thrusting out and waggling his tongue. It pleased him to see the smile leave Collatinus’s face.

  ‘She’s my wife, Sextus,’ Collatinus said severely.

  ‘She can still be a goer,’ Sextus said, innocently wide-eyed. ‘There’s a whore inside every woman, let me tell you.’

  ‘Not in my Lucretia. Don’t judge her by your own paltry standards.’

  ‘You were the one who brought her up,’ Sextus said, ‘saying she’s incom… incom…’

  ‘Incomparable,’ Sextus’s friend, Elerius, provided, hiding his smile behind his cup.

  ‘That’s the word,’ Sextus waved his finger triumphantly. ‘But I bet we can find a camp whore to compare with her. What do you say, Collatinus? Shall we go and find us some women?’

  ‘Not for me. I don’t want a whore.’

  ‘Why not?’

  ‘Because I happen to love my wife, Sextus.’

  ‘Bully for you. Doesn’t mean you can’t dip your prick anywhere else, you know.’

  ‘It does for me.’

  Sextus blew a raspberry at Collatinus, spraying him with spit. ‘Do you know, I think I ought to see this wife of yours again. See what all the fuss is about.’

  Collatinus wiped down his tunic and turned his back to Sextus. ‘I don’t want you seeing her.’

  ‘Why?’ Sextus grabbed his shoulder and squeezed hard. ‘You worried she’s not as virtuous as you make out and I have her on her back before you can blink?’

  ‘No, I’m not,’ Collatinus said, pulling himself away. ‘I don’t want her being bothered by a boorish drunk like you.’

  ‘D’you know, I bet she’s being serviced right now,’ Sextus went on. ‘I bet she’s riding one of your big African slaves this very minute.’

  Collatinus sprung to his feet and grabbed Sextus, yanking him out of his chair. ‘You’re going to apologise for that, Sextus. You want to see my wife? Then, let’s go now.’

  ‘Now?’ Sextus said, having to stand on tiptoe to stay on his feet.

  ‘Right now, and you’ll see the kind of woman you’ll never have,’ Collatinus promised.

  Sextus sobered up on the ride to Collatia. He and Collatinus had left the camp secretly, Sextus knowing his father would forbid it. The jolting of his horse was making Sextus feel sick, and twice he had had to call to Collatinus to stop so he could dismount and throw up. He wished now he hadn’t suggested seeing Lucretia. What did he care if she was beautiful and virtuous? He had considered telling Collatinus he was prepared to accept Lucretia was beautiful and chaste, but Collatinus would insist on a public apology and princes had no need to make apologies. The journey was inevitable, so Sextus kept his mouth shut and just prayed that it would soon be over.

  Collatia was not far and it was early morning when they arrived at Collatinus’s home. They rode into the courtyard and dismounted, Sextus walking stiffly as Collatinus gestured him into the house. He had expected Collatinus to lead him to his bedroom so he could see Lucretia lying abed and alone, but instead, Collatinus led him through the house to the atrium. Sextus blinked at the sunlight coming through the open front doors.

  ‘There,’ Collatinus whispered victoriously, pointing.

  A beautiful young woman was sitting in the atrium, wholly absorbed in spinning her basketful of wool. She had thick, light-brown hair made golden by the sunlight. Her skin looked perfect, not a blemish nor a freckle upon it and her arms were pleasingly plump. Around her were three of her maids, also spinning. A more perfect picture of wifely industry could not have been found and Collatinus knew it.

  ‘Husband,’ Lucretia called excitedly, seeing Collatinus in the doorway. ‘Where did you spring from?’

  Collatinus went to her and kissed her full on the mouth. Sextus saw a blush creep up her neck and flood her cheeks, making her appear even more lovely.

  ‘Is that the Prince with you?’ she whispered to Collatinus, her big brown eyes on Sextus.


  ‘Yes, I wanted Prince Sextus to see how lovely you are,’ Collatinus said. ‘He didn’t believe me.’

  Lucretia’s blush deepened. ‘You must stop teasing me, husband,’ she remonstrated, smiling sweetly at Sextus. ‘Good morning, Prince Sextus.’

  Sextus couldn’t speak. She really was very lovely.

  Lucretia looked up at Collatinus. ‘Are you staying, husband?’

  ‘No,’ he said regretfully, kissing her hand, ‘we have to get back. Just time for a quick bite and then we must be away again.’

  ‘Oh, that is a pity,’ she said. ‘I will tell the kitchen.’ Excusing herself, she moved past Sextus, just long enough for the scent she wore to waft up Sextus’s nostrils and enchant him.

  ‘I told you,’ Collatinus said smugly, seeing how Sextus was moved. ‘Is she not the most perfect creature you have ever seen?’

  Sextus nodded. ‘She certainly is.’

  Sextus and Collatinus had ridden back to the camp. Their absence had been noted and Sextus was called before his father to explain himself. Sextus offered no explanation which enraged his father, but Sextus endured Lucius’s anger without a twitch of anger or resentment. In fact, Lucius’s words had barely registered for Sextus’s mind was too full of the most perfect woman he had ever see: Lucretia.

  He had to see her again. No, he didn’t just have to see her, he had to have her.

  The military situation hadn’t changed. Rutuli was still holding out and Lucius was still in a foul mood about it. Collatinus, having proved his point, made it clear he no longer wanted to be in Sextus’s company and stayed away from him. It seemed to Sextus that Fortuna was on his side. He could leave the camp and Collatinus would never know where he was headed.

  What he was going to do once he arrived at Collatinus’s house again, Sextus wasn’t really sure. Would Lucretia, like Virginia, not dare to say no to a prince and so respond to his advances? Or would she tell him to leave and threaten to tell her husband? She had seemed to be impressed by his being a prince when they had met. Perhaps that would be enough to win her over.