Dido (15 page)

‘I'll take him back.' Cubby surprised himself by speaking out, even though he wasn't in the habit of addressing Cook directly. It was better to stay out of his way if at all possible. ‘I'll go with him to his nursemaid. I know where she is. Come on, Ascanius.'

He tried to take the child's hand, but Ascanius pulled away and began to run through the corridors. Cubby wasn't very good at running but he shuffled along behind him as quickly as he could. And there was Maron, standing in the doorway of the nursery.

‘Ascanius!' he cried. ‘We've been looking for you everywhere. Where have you been?' He caught sight of
Cubby and said to him, ‘Hello, Cubby. Has he been bothering you in the kitchen? I'm sorry if he has. It's hard to keep an eye on him every minute. He's always running away.'

‘No problem, Maron,' said Cubby, blushing. Maron always spoke to him as though they were the best of friends. ‘We had a nice game, didn't we? But Cook said we had to go.'

‘I've got a sword!' Ascanius shouted, and began to flourish his wooden sword at Cubby, who parried with his hands. Soon the two of them were dancing around the corridor in a mock fight, with the child laughing and Cubby trying hard not to appear too clumsy and heavy-footed. He was already out of breath, but Maron was smiling so he was happy to continue with the game.

‘Who's your opponent?' said a low voice, and there was Aeneas. They stopped moving, and Ascanius brought his sword to rest just a hair's breadth away from Cubby's stomach.

‘Give up!' Ascanius shouted. ‘Surrender!'

‘I give up!' Cubby said, putting his hands above his head.

Ascanius ran to his father, who gathered him up and held him.

‘I'm sorry if my son's been worrying you,' Aeneas said. Cubby couldn't get over it. This was the prince from Troy. Everyone knew that the queen was in love with him and some said he might become the next king of Carthage. He'd overheard the queen's sister, Anna, moaning about how difficult it was for anyone to
speak to Dido these days because she was so taken up with the Trojan. And now this person was speaking to him. For a moment Cubby couldn't think what to say. First Maron and now his master. In the end he muttered, ‘I liked playing with your son, sir.'

‘And I'm sure he enjoyed playing with you. Say goodbye to this kind lad, Ascanius.'

‘Bye!' the child shouted. ‘Bye, Cubby!'

‘Don't be so rude, boy! Cubby's not a proper name!' Aeneas chided him, and Cubby hurried to say: ‘No, it's all right, sir. That's what I'm called. Everyone calls me Cubby.'

‘Do they?' Aeneas looked solemn for a moment and then grinned. ‘Very well. Thank you, Cubby.'

Cubby stood and watched as Aeneas, still carrying his son, went into the nursery to find Elissa. Maron said, ‘You were really good with him, Cubby. Thanks. He's a bit of a handful for Elissa sometimes and I'm grateful for any bit of help with childcare. See you later!' He walked down the corridor and Cubby gazed after him, wondering where he was going. Other people always seemed to have things to do and places to go to. My place is the kitchen, Cubby thought, and I'd better get back there now before Cook comes looking for me.

The night edging nearer to the dawn; the courtyard

Cubby sighed as he remembered that day and put the
wooden crocodile back on top of the other toys and clothes heaped on the royal bed. It wobbled there for a moment and then fell down on to the flagged stones of the courtyard with a noise that startled Cubby so much he nearly jumped out of his skin. He looked around, hoping that the racket wouldn't have woken anyone, and after listening for a bit he reckoned he'd got away with it. The silence was complete and Cubby sat down again. After a while his head lolled down on to his chest and he began to dream. No, I mustn't fall asleep, he told himself, lifting his head up again. I'm a guard.

Just then he heard a funny noise. At first he couldn't think what it was: a sort of rhythmic clicking sound, exactly as if a dog were trotting about on the tiled floor. He was back: the dog from his dream. He looked up and couldn't believe what he was seeing. There
was
a dog, but it wasn't any old mutt, and certainly not an animal he'd ever seen the like of before. This creature had a silvery coat, long, droopy ears, a long pointed nose and thin legs. A girl was walking along behind it, and she was dressed in a short silver tunic and carried a silver bow. He'd never seen her before in his life, and however much he admired her dog and however pretty she was, Cubby was fairly certain that strangers weren't meant to be traipsing the corridors in the middle of the night.

‘
Oi!
' he shouted, remembering just after he'd said it that he was supposed to say,
Who goes there?
Perhaps it wasn't too late to speak, even now, but the words wouldn't come.

‘Don't be concerned,' said the woman. He could see, now that she was a little closer to him, that she was older than she looked, though he wouldn't have been able to say how old exactly. ‘I've just come from Elissa's room.'

‘Oh, righty-o!' Cubby said, and the silver woman drifted off down the corridor. He looked for the dog, but that had disappeared as well. Never mind, he told himself. It's too late to ask her what her name is. Elissa will tell me in the morning. I'm not chasing down the corridors and leaving this bed unguarded. No way.

Some time before dawn; the palace corridors/a small bedchamber

‘
WHAT'S THE MATTER,
Elissa?' Nezral mumbled. ‘Are you sick again?'

‘No, no, I'm not. I'm sorry. It must have been a dream. I didn't mean to wake you.'

Nezral sighed and turned over and went back to sleep almost at once. Elissa went on sitting on her bed, staring into the darkness. I'm not going to sleep now, she thought. And I'm hungry. I want something salty to eat. She picked up a thin cotton robe and pulled it on over her nightgown. Did she dare to walk along the corridors to the kitchen in the middle of the night? Yes, of course she did. What harm could possibly come to her? It was true that tonight of all nights, when there were guards everywhere and half the palace servants hadn't gone to bed just in case the queen decided she wanted something, she was sure to be noticed, but so what? A person was allowed to be hungry in the middle
of the night, weren't they? If anyone sees me, I'll tell them I'm going to get something to eat, which is no more than the truth.

She tiptoed through the silence, and as she passed the courtyard, glanced at Cubby and couldn't help smiling. He'd fallen asleep, leaning against one of the legs of the queen's bed, and if the idea was that he should be guarding it, it wasn't working very well. Elissa didn't know why Dido had brought the bed to the courtyard, nor why a guard was necessary, but presumably it was to stop the servants and even some of the courtiers helping themselves to Aeneas' possessions. For a moment Elissa wondered whether she dared to go over to the bed and perhaps take something as a keepsake. No, she told herself. I can't. If I'm caught, they'll throw me out of the palace. Dido will never forgive me.

I'm a fool, she told herself, tiptoeing down the stairs that led to the main corridor. I'm carrying his child – I'm hardly likely to forget him. I don't need a souvenir.

Elissa walked especially quietly as she passed the room in which Dido had hidden herself. There was someone playing a lyre. Where was the music coming from? And who would dare to play in the middle of the night and risk disturbing the queen, when everyone knew she was in a terrible state? Sounds carry strangely at night and it didn't take long for Elissa to realize that the music was coming from Dido's room. The door was slightly open and she pushed it a little and caught sight of the queen herself, sitting on the bed with her legs
crossed and a lyre resting on her knees. She had her back to the door and was plucking the strings and humming to the music.

‘Oh! I'm sorry, my lady. I didn't realize . . .' The tune was plaintive, and made Elissa feel like weeping, and when Dido turned round, she saw that the queen's own cheeks were wet with shed tears.

‘What can I do?' she asked, coming into the room and approaching the bed. ‘Should I send for your sister?'

‘Nothing, Elissa. Don't do anything. Don't fetch anyone. I want to be left alone. I'm . . .' Dido put aside the lyre, and bringing her knees up to her chin, she clung to them, with her face half hidden, rocking backwards and forwards and sobbing, the sounds of her sorrow muffled but still loud in the dimly lit room. A small torch above the doorway was the only source of light, and Dido's shadow loomed black on the wall behind her.

‘Come and sit beside me, Elissa. Tell me something cheerful.'

How can I, Elissa thought, when my heart is aching so? She said, ‘I think it's a sad day for all of us, lady.'

‘This is what happens, you see? I've stopped thinking about anyone else. I should've understood that you'd be unhappy. Little Ascanius – I know how devoted you were to that boy. You must be missing him dreadfully. Poor Elissa! Come and sit beside me and we'll share our pain.'

Dido patted the mattress and Elissa came and
perched on the edge of the bed, nervous of being so close to the queen, though she looked nothing like a ruler now. Elissa saw a woman wearing creased garments, with her hair dishevelled, smelling a little stale, as though she'd forgotten to wash herself. It was hard sometimes to remember that even queens, however grand and beautiful they were, were made like other women, and seeing Dido in this state made Elissa feel doubly sad. She was reminded of her own mother, who frequently had no time to bathe and found something to weep about almost every day.

‘Do you remember,' she began, trying to think of something amusing to tell the queen, ‘the day when Ascanius fell in the fishpond? How angry Aeneas was with him and how funny he looked, sitting in the water with a fish flapping about in his hand? He didn't want to let it go, and he started crying when I made him put it back. I felt so terrible . . . It was my duty to see that he kept away from the water. I thought Aeneas would shout at me for my neglect of his son, but he was laughing too and said it wasn't my fault and it would take a god with a thousand eyes to make sure Ascanius kept out of mischief.'

Elissa glanced to her left and saw that Dido's eyes were closed. She was leaning against the wall and seemed calmer. Perhaps she was falling asleep. Elissa made up her mind to wait and see what the queen did next. She settled herself more comfortably on the bed and allowed her thoughts to return to that day – the day Ascanius fell into the fish pond.

Elissa realized, within a few days of starting to look after Ascanius, that she'd never played before. In the countryside, small children were workers on the land, helpers in the kitchen, and set to perform all kinds of tasks as soon as they could walk and grasp something in their hands. She tried to think back to what she and her brothers and sisters used to do in their free time and came to the conclusion that there wasn't any to speak of. By the time the work was done; by the time her mother put out the evening meal, she and the others were exhausted, and Elissa remembered many evenings when her father would have to pick up the sleeping younger children before the food was eaten and take them to their beds.

When Dido asked her to look after Ascanius, Elissa had said yes with pleasure. He was a smiling, talkative child, and on his first night in Carthage, when she put him to bed, he was happy to lie there and listen to her singing the songs of her own childhood. These weren't lullabies, but melodies her mother used to sing as she worked. Still, they served their purpose and Ascanius had fallen asleep at once. Elissa thought at the time: This is easy. I'm going to enjoy looking after him. I'll be let off other work too. She was pleased about this for the most part, though she knew she'd miss the occasions when Dido called her to help with doing her hair or choosing her jewels or taking her clothes to the sewing room to be mended. But no one knew how long the Trojans would be staying in the city and
she could go back to her normal duties when they left.

She soon discovered how different looking after a small child was from any other work in the whole world. There were no tasks, either domestic or agricultural, for Ascanius to perform, and therefore it fell to Elissa to entertain the boy, which would have been pleasant for a few hours but became burdensome and irritating if you had to do it all day long. Dido had set her woodcarvers to work at once and within a few days the child had been given an army of wooden soldiers, a crocodile mounted on wooden wheels which he could pull along by a leather thong, a shield and sword, and many bricks with which to build imaginary forts. The crocodile in particular was a favourite and became any creature Ascanius wanted him to be. Often he was the wooden horse which had been taken into Troy and from which the Greek soldiers had leaped, ready to burn the city to the ground.

‘Who told you this story, Ascanius?' Elissa asked when they first played the game. She had to lie stretched out on the tiled floor and push the crocodile through the gate that she'd helped the child build from wooden blocks.

‘Maron told me,' said Ascanius. ‘He said my daddy fought with the horse. He killed the horse.'

‘I see,' said Elissa. The boy was obviously a bit muddled about what had actually happened, but was quite happy with his version of the Trojan War, where a crocodile went mad among the bricks and brought
them tumbling down on top of himself. This made Ascanius laugh and roll about on the floor, and Elissa was happy to join in with him.

But even after playing with the bricks and with the soldiers; even taking into account giving him his food and putting him to bed, there were still long stretches of the day which had to be filled. Tentatively, Elissa suggested to Dido that they might go outside sometimes, to the garden. They could, she suggested, perhaps sit by the fishpond and admire the fish.