Call to Juno (A Tale of Ancient Rome #3) (22 page)

T
WENTY
-N
INE

Semni, Veii, Spring, 396 BC

The massive pithoi jars stood in the shadows of the storeroom like a phalanx of headless soldiers, shoulder to shoulder. If they had not been half sunk into the floor, they would stand as high as a man.

Semni held Nerie’s hand as she entered the cellar, Perca following on her heels.

“Ssh,” she whispered, placing her finger to her lips. “Be very quiet so we can hear if the princes are in here.” The one-and-a-half-year-old giggled, unable to suppress his excitement at being included in the game with the three older boys.

Spring had arrived, but its warmth had yet to infiltrate the deep interior of the palace. The air smelled of dry earth, although a faint smell of barley pervaded it. Coated with dust, most of the pots were empty, their contents gone to feed the palace household.

Lord Tarchon had ordered grain supplies to be further rationed. And Lady Caecilia had decreed the palace stores should be distributed equally among the families of both servants and courtiers. The principes expressed their discontent at such largesse, but the queen dismissed their griping, determined to show her fairness.

Semni knew she was lucky to eat one meal per day when those in the city struggled. Denied a healthy diet, though, she was aware her milk was drying up. Only two weeks ago, she’d had her first flux since Nerie was born.

Tired of the princes complaining their tummies ached, Semni thought a game would distract them. The cool confines of the network of cellars were a perfect setting for hide-and-seek. She signaled Perca to search the far end of the chamber. Whistling, the girl crept between the pithoi, trying to flush out a prince. Semni followed suit, peering around the contoured sides of the earthenware containers decorated with wavy lines and spirals. Nerie dogged her steps.

A stifled noise caught her attention as she reached a wooden bench where a pile of large terra-cotta buckets was stacked. It was then she spied a round wooden lid propped against the side of one of the pithoi. As she drew closer, she heard the sound of a whimpering child.

“Quick, Perca, come and help.”

Semni gripped one of the container’s clay handles and leaned over to peer inside. Down in the gloomy interior, Larce stared up at her, eyes brimming with tears. Arnth stood beside him, grinning.

“How did you two get in there?”

“Tas helped us, but now we’re stuck,” wailed Larce.

Semni rolled her eyes and leaned over the edge as far as she could, extending her hands to them. They were too far belowground to reach. Larce started blubbering.

“Calm down,” she urged. “I’ll try something different.” Scanning the room, she noticed a ladder. “Help me with that, Perca.”

The two girls managed to heft the ladder up and over the side to drop it down next to Larce. “Stop crying and climb up. Be careful. It might wobble.”

The four-year-old was beyond taking direction, though, continuing to sob. Arnth pushed his brother out of the way and clambered up nimbly, laughing as Semni hoisted him over the top.

“Baby,” he taunted Larce, confident now he was on safe ground.

“Am not!” Seeing his brother had escaped successfully, Larce was determined not to be bested.

The rescue accomplished, Semni sat down with a sigh of relief and rested against the pithos, pulling a boy down on each side of her, an arm around them. “You are never to do that again, do you hear me?”

Larce gave an exaggerated nod. Arnth’s cheeky grin was less than reassuring.

Semni glanced around, realizing she had yet to find the last brother. She scanned the rows of pithoi. There was no telltale lid propped against any of them. “Do you know where he is hiding?”

Larce shook his head. “He said he was going to see the gorgon.”

She frowned, wondering if he meant Cytheris. She knew the boy had overheard her and Aricia use that name. Yet she doubted he would refer to the handmaid as such. She looked across to Perca. “Do you know what he’s talking about?”

The girl shook her head.

Semni pushed Nerie off her lap and stood up, dusting down her chiton and helping the boys to their feet. “Larce? Do you know who Tas was talking about?”

The boy shrugged. “He said Medusa lived down here.”

Semni frowned, irritated the child had wandered away. “Take the princes back to the nursery, Perca. I’ll find Tas.” She handed her son to the girl. “And ask Cook to keep an eye on Nerie.”

After the group had left, Semni weaved her way through the pots, puzzled the oldest boy had not revealed himself. “Master Tas, you can come out now.”

She rounded the last row only to reel back in fright. A gorgon glared at her from the gloom with locks of wild hair and a stony stare. She gulped, resisting the urge to run away. Then she remembered Medusa gave protection against the evil eye. What was she guarding?

The circular bas-relief was broad, the width of a large window. Why would a cellar boast such a decoration? The paint on the features was peeling. It must have been there for years. She crept closer, wondering why it was at an angle. Then she noticed the hinges and realized it was a portal to another room. She surveyed the wall beside it and gasped. There was an emblem of a sphinx etched into the brick. A sign that a tunnel must lie beyond. She scanned the floor. Small footprints were outlined in the dust. Her stomach lurched. Tas must have ventured into the hidden passageway.

Semni took a deep breath, then swung open the Medusa hatch. It was pitch black inside. She felt as though hands would grab and yank her into the darkness if she thrust her head inside. “Tas! Come out this minute!”

She heard the scuttling of mice in the blackness. Panic rose at the thought that he might be trapped inside. She turned and ran out of the room to the corridor, scanning the row of torches on the wall. One was already missing. She wrenched another from its bracket.

She balked once again when she returned to face the mythical creature, but the knowledge the boy could be hurt gave her courage enough to push the torch through the opening. She peered inside to find there was another storeroom beyond.

Edging her way through, she stepped down onto an earthen floor. The air was warmer in the chamber, protected from drafts, the smell fusty. The flames of the torch steadied, becoming smooth and sculpted in the stillness. She raised it high. The room was empty, its corners dark beyond the halo of light. As her eyes grew accustomed to the gloom, she noticed there was a heap of bricks scored with scorch marks piled against one wall.

The hair on the back of her neck stood on end at the strong sense she was being watched. She swiveled, illuminating each wall. A shadowy figure loomed. A scream stuck in her throat, terror turning her hoarse. She closed her eyes, hoping blindness would protect her. She waited for a hand to seize her.

When nothing happened, she opened one eye nervously. In the flickering light, she saw that a woman was painted on the wall with high arched wings fanned out behind her. Vanth. Dressed in hunting boots and a short chiton, the spirit held a torch to guide the dead to Acheron. Her face was serene with beauty, belying her danger. Semni’s teeth chattered. A benign demoness guarded this chamber. There was evil here.

Tearing her eyes from the painting, she swung around, vainly trying to see if the boy was huddled in a corner. She paced the line of the walls, and in the wavering light, she saw another Medusa hatch slung open with a sphinx painted beside it. This time when she thrust the brand into the space beyond, she shuddered. There was a low narrow passageway leading into the blackness.

Blood thumped against her temple. She found it hard to breathe, not sure what to do. She’d managed to force herself into the first hidden chamber, but she doubted she could enter the tunnel. The very walls might close in on her and crush her.

Minutes dragged. Where had Tas gone? An image of his secret trysts with Lord Artile returned. And how the prince managed to access the temple where they used to meet.

Scrambling back through the hatchway to the cellar, Semni dropped the torch in her haste as she sped through the maze of corridors to the service lane. Picking up the sides of her chiton, her shoes slipping on mud and slush, she knocked people aside as she rushed toward the sanctuary next door. A place where she knew Prince Tas would find Aricia, the priestess who had once again lured him there.

T
HIRTY

Semni halted when she reached the sanctuary, surprised to see a long line of worshipers snaking up the steps and across the temple portico. Each was waiting their turn to enter and lay votives before Uni.

Knowing she could waste no time in finding the prince, Semni edged past. “Excuse me, I’m on a royal errand,” she repeated. “Excuse me, let me pass.” A pathway was forged despite grumbles until she reached the doorway to the chamber where Queen Uni resided.

There was a hush to the room, the air dense with incense fumes. Acolytes were marshaling people to ensure the business of devotion was efficient, directing supplicants to move forward to deposit their gift on the altar table, kneel to pray, and then move on. Semni was amazed to see the floor littered with statuettes as well.

Two cepens cleared away the excess figurines, piling them to the side, discarded prayers jumbled in a heap once they had served their purpose.

One woman kneeled before Uni, pulling her son down beside her. The child looked fatigued and was coughing, his eyes red and face flushed.

Semni hurried to the workshop at the back of the sanctum. She’d once hidden and watched Artile speak to Tas of the firmament and thunderbolts and portents there. Before she crossed the threshold, though, Lady Tanchvil emerged from the workroom holding Tas by the hand. Aricia followed.

The boy examined his feet rather than look at Semni.

“Thank the gods,” she murmured, then curtsied before the high priestess.

“You have come for the prince? Aricia was about to deliver him home.”

Semni was relieved the hatrencu was honorable. “I’m glad, my lady. Thank you.” Then she waggled her finger at Tas. “You’ve been very naughty. You shouldn’t have run away like that.”

“I came to tell Aricia about my dream.”

Semni glowered at the acolyte. “How dare you tell him to find you again?”

Aricia reddened. “I didn’t. He came of his own accord.”

“Silence!” The augur pivoted and walked back into the workroom. “Let’s speak in here. The whole of Veii need not know of this matter.”

Semni glanced over her shoulder to see the inquisitive expressions of the people in the queue.

The table in the workroom was cluttered with paterae dishes and boxes of incense—not the heady scent of expensive myrrh but cheap ground pine and juniper bark. In the corner, the great eagle perched on its stand. It swiveled its head to fix the women with its cold eyes. The sacred geese of Uni were corralled in a covered pen, scrawny and subdued. Usually they were plump and vocal, allowed to roam free in the sanctuary. Perhaps Lady Tanchvil thought it too great a temptation for the hungry to commit sacrilege and add them to a pot.

Semni was daunted at being in close proximity with the high priestess, who towered over her in statuesque elegance. Her white chiton was plain, decorated only with a broad border of scarlet. A single crimson tassel hung from one shoulder, a symbol of the princip’s status. As the augur took her seat on a stool, Semni caught a glimpse of short red laced boots on broad feet.

The hatrencu beckoned Tas to stand in front of her. “I found Vel Mastarna Junior creeping into my temple. I’ve spoken to him severely. I did not realize there was a secret passageway.” Her tone was stern. “Don’t try to come here again, Tas. I will not have my temple infiltrated even by so small an intruder.”

He nodded, voice solemn. “Yes, Lady Tanchvil.”

“Good boy.” The priestess’s eyes met the wet nurse’s. “You should take better care of your charge.”

Semni bristled at the admonishment, feeling it unfair. How was she to know Prince Tarchon had not identified all the passages? And she’d no idea Tas would be so disobedient. She grasped his hand, shaking it. “What were you thinking going through the tunnel?”

He stuck out his chin. “I wasn’t afraid. Uncle Artile and Aricia showed me how to use the passages safely. Once I reached the Great Gallery, I found the tunnel from our old house to the temple.”

“Great Gallery?”

“There’s a cave where various tunnels beneath the citadel intersect,” said Aricia. She crouched beside the boy. “My pet. What you did was very dangerous. It’s a warren down there. You could’ve become lost. What if your torch had blown out?”

Lady Tanchvil clapped her hands to gain attention. “Enough. It’s time the prince was taken home.” She leaned over the table, selecting a fresh sheet of papyrus from a pile, and then picked up her stylus to write a missive. “You must give this letter to the queen, Semni. I must explain that Aricia had no part in this.”

Semni curtsied and took the scroll. “Come with me,” she said, taking Tas’s hand. To her annoyance, the boy twisted away, remaining next to the hatrencu. “Please, what about my dream?”

The seer frowned and placed her hand on his shoulder. “What you’ve told me about the bull and wolf was just a nightmare, my prince. Such visions aren’t delivered by the deities. The Veiled Ones speak to the gods, who then send omens by lightning and thunder, or reveal celestial will in the livers of beasts or the flight of birds.”

“But I want to be a soothsayer.”

She smiled. “Perhaps one day. But for now you must heed your mother and father and not run away from your nurse.” She gestured to Semni. “Take him. I have work to do.” She flipped open the fold of a linen book lying on the table. “I still hope to solve the mystery of Lake Albanus.”

Aricia stepped forward. “May I accompany them to the palace, my lady?”

Absorbed in her study, Lady Tanchvil did not look up. “Very well,” she muttered. “But don’t linger, Aricia. The evening rites need to be performed.”

Semni was unimpressed, still suspicious of Aricia’s intentions. She pulled Tas behind her as she walked into Queen Uni’s chamber. Aricia picked up her pace and grabbed Semni’s elbow, leading her into a corner away from the statue and worshipers. “Please understand,” she whispered. “I didn’t know Tas would come here.”

The wet nurse glanced around her, conscious she did not want to be overheard. “I don’t believe you. Did you encourage him when you visited the palace that day?”

“No!”

Tas tugged Semni’s chiton. “I found the tunnel myself. I’ve been searching the house for months for symbols of the sphinx. Tarchon didn’t find the one in the storeroom.” He smiled at his former nursemaid. “I missed Aricia. She’s the only one who understands I want to be a seer.”

Aricia patted his head. “Nevertheless, you should not have tried to find me, my pet.”

Semni kept her voice low. “Tas entered a cursed room because of his need to tell you of his vision.”

“What do you mean a cursed room?”

“One with an entry hatch decorated with a gorgon’s face. Inside there was a vanth guarding a pile of burned bricks.”

Aricia blanched. “Mother told me about this. Before the war began, a thunderbolt hit the palace. Because it was an ill omen, the lightning was buried and the place where it struck sealed. Expiation rites were conducted, but the demoness must still stand guard.” She crouched in front of Tas. “Weren’t you frightened by the vanth?”

His composure was unnerving. “I was scared at first, but then she let me pass unharmed.”

Aricia stroked his hair. “But you were treading where evil had been interred, my pet.”

The expression in his gold-flecked cat eyes was calm. “A fulgurator should not be afraid to view the prodigy of a god.”

Semni shook his hand. “But you’re not a fulgurator. You’re a little boy!”

Placing the prince in front of her, she guided him toward the doorway. Now that her panic had lessened, she took more notice of the supplicants. A few were coughing, sweat beading their brows. A man was holding a little girl in his arms. She lay limp, her face and arms covered with bright-red splotches. Semni scanned the chamber. Children stood with swollen bellies and stick limbs. Their parents were also thin, clothes loose on gaunt frames. Her gaze traveled to the votives. Effigies of swaddled babies and the busts of children abounded. Semni felt her gut tighten. These people were not just seeking divine intervention to end this siege. They sought to save their children.

Desperate to escape from the disease, she gripped Tas’s hand and raced across the portico and down the stairs. She was frantic to reach the forum and the safety of the palace. She heard Aricia limping after her, calling for her to stop.

Tas struggled to keep pace. “Not so fast, Semni.” She didn’t heed him until he tripped, falling onto his knees. She halted, helping him to his feet, aghast his flesh was skinned raw from the cobblestones.

“I’m sorry,” she said, lifting him into her arms. He wrapped his legs around her waist, his arms around her neck, and rested his head upon her shoulder. He was heavy compared to Nerie. She placed her hands under his bottom, bearing his weight.

Aricia caught up, catching her breath.

Semni glanced back to the crowd in the sanctuary. “That child has the red scourge. I suffered from it when I was young. One of my brothers died from the same. Do you think there will be a plague?”

Aricia grimaced. “You’ve been spoiled living within the palace. The sickness is everywhere. Why do you think there’s a crush to seek divine protection? If it’s not to cure the pestilence, it’s to make offerings for those who have died. Here on the citadel where the rich live, you can’t see the heartbreak. But go below into the streets and marketplaces of the city, and you’ll see only despair and desolation.”

She pointed to the huge cistern in the square. “Look around you. We’ve water but no food. The enemy blockades were tightened after the king’s army broke through them. And those supplies that were bartered through the stockades for a time weren’t enough to feed a city. Veii is teeming with people. Peasants from the countryside have fled behind its walls to seek protection from the Romans who ravage their farms. The grain ration is too scant to sate hunger. The cattle have long ago been eaten. Now dogs and cats and even rodents have become food. Any bird that flies over the city is shot down. Some citizens are reduced to boiling nettles and eating snails and insects. If the king does not deliver us soon, the only rites recited will be those for funerals.”

Semni stared at her in horror, then surveyed the double gates of Uni at the end of the forum. A line of people was queued on the single road from the city. More of the ill, more of the anxious, more of those seeking hope.

She eased Tas to the ground, aware their conversation would be frightening him. He clutched her skirt, observing the crowd, eyes troubled. “Come on,” she urged. “I need to get you home.”

Reaching the steps of the palace, Semni could see Aricia’s confidence fading. The novice gazed with apprehension at the huge bronze-studded doors at the entrance. Semni was filled with sympathy for the girl. Tas had embroiled her in a predicament that was none of her doing. “I don’t think it’s wise for you to be seen. Let’s go around to the service lane.”

Aricia bit her lip. “No. I should make it clear to Lady Caecilia that I had no part in the prince’s outing.”

Semni wished that Cytheris could see how earnest her daughter was to prove she’d mended her ways. She rested her hand on her arm. “This is not the best time to press your case. I’ll give Lady Tanchvil’s letter to the queen and also tell her you were not at fault.”

“But don’t you want me to assure Lady Caecilia that you weren’t involved?”

Semni hesitated. She’d not thought that she might be seen as complicit. Yet the high priestess’s letter should also absolve her of being a conspirator. “No, it’s best you go.”

Aricia bent down and gave Tas a hug.

He clung to her neck. “I didn’t mean to get you in trouble.”

“Promise me you’ll never try and see me again, my pet.”

Semni felt pity for the girl again. She reached across and pecked Aricia’s cheek after she extracted the prince. “Good-bye, my friend.”

Aricia smiled. “It means much that you think of me fondly.”

The sudden shouts of male voices drowned out further conversation. Semni turned. Foreboding in their black uniforms, Arruns and two lictors raced down the palace steps. The Phoenician glowered at the two girls. Under his scrutiny, Aricia backed away and then limped as fast as she could toward the sanctuary.

Trembling at the approach of the guards, Tas gripped Semni’s hand. “I think I’ve made a big mistake.”