The Golden Dice - A Tale of Ancient Rome (21 page)

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Authors: Elisabeth Storrs

Tags: #historical romance, #historical fiction, #roman fiction, #history, #historical novels, #Romance, #rome, #ancient history, #roman history, #ancient rome, #womens fiction, #roman historical fiction

BOOK: The Golden Dice - A Tale of Ancient Rome
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A slight fever. And a fierce headache. I’m sure he’ll be fit to see you.”

The general laughed. “No doubt the election results only worsened his condition. And your good mother?”


Visiting friends.”

Marcus ushered him to the hearth. “Sir, come sit by the fire. I’m afraid the roof in the study has sprung a leak.”

Pinna watched as the servant boy fetched indoor sandals for the guest then nervously helped him to remove his toga. It always interested her how a simple length of cloth could look so different on each man who wore it, their character defined by its folds, the way it was hefted upon the shoulders and draped across the body. Some men looked as though they had wrestled with it and been defeated. Camillus wore the unwieldy cloak with ease, no need for the purple-bordered hem to be weighted for elegance. The assured posture she’d admired from a distance was even more marked now that she was near him. The certainty of his movements, the confidence of his bearing, made the room seem small. His limp was barely noticeable but, knowing how he had gained the injury, she wondered what the scar upon his thigh would look like. And what others might be hidden beneath his handsome robes.

Marcus drew up a chair. “Congratulations, sir, on your being elected.”

Camillus smiled and relaxed into the backless chair. “Perhaps that has also caused your father’s head to ache.” As he accepted a goblet of wine Pinna saw that his hands were broad, the fingers long and strong. They were calloused but she imagined their touch might be gentle. He wore a ring. Unlike most it was not of iron but of gold. A hint of wealth as well as vanity.

Marcus hesitated at the jest. “I’m sure he welcomes your appointment as much as I do,” he finally said.


Oh, I doubt that,” said Camillus. “Poor Aemilius. He must be reeling. Five plebeian generals. Unprecedented. It must be quite a shock to a descendant of Romulus.” Cup filled, he turned his attention to Marcus. “But that is not what I want to discuss. It’s you that I really came to see.”

It was a day of surprises. Pinna saw the younger man straighten his shoulders, his smile that of a pupil gaining unexpected praise from his teacher. Any revelation as to Camillus’ purpose was interrupted, though, by the arrival of Aemilius. The senator’s fat gray eyebrows and hair were awry and his cloak slipping from his shoulders. An annoyed look crossed Marcus’ face at the conversation being disturbed.

The head of the house hailed his visitor with a voice that was hoarse and nasal. “Furius Camillus. I was not expecting you.”


Ah, Aemilius,” said the general, standing to greet him. “You should not have got up from your sickbed.”


Nonsense.” Aemilius sank into the armchair reserved for him, gesturing both guest and son to resume their seats. “I’m interested to hear what you have to say about this crisis.”


Crisis? I thought the danger of insurrection has been averted.”


By electing five commoners to govern us? To lead us into battle? To defend our city? What do they know of command? We need experienced men to lead us.”

Camillus laughed. “Like Sergius and Verginius?”

Marcus glanced away to hide a smile.

Aemilius glared at his caller. “That plebeian dolt, Calvus, was just as incompetent as those two. Anxur is no longer in our hands, remember? The city you fought so hard to reclaim last year. He let it be retaken by allowing Volscians posing as traders into the stockades. And the Aequians are still causing trouble. And let’s not mention the Faliscans.” He paused to sneeze, and then continued. “Don’t you think disaster will come from this election? There is a reason why patricians have always governed. We are the descendants of the founding fathers. Divine blood flows in us. Only we can hold the purification ceremonies to call an assembly. Next the people will claim we should be restricted to merely doing this just so plebeians can hold office.”

The guest took his time to respond, sipping his wine then placing the cup on the repository table. Pinna found it hard to take her eyes from him. She liked the way his beard was clipped. How it defined the strength of his jaw. Liked too how his hair was combed back from a deep brow, his nose that of a Roman, straight and aquiline. Masculinity emanated from him, no effeteness hinted in his grooming. His face was unscathed, a rarity among warriors, his cheeks grooved and the skin around his eyes creased. Good humor seemed to have formed such lines because they remained intact even when he was not smiling.


I’m as pious as you, Aemilius. After all, I spent my childhood as an attendant to the high priest of Rome. But you’re exaggerating. I don’t see why the gods would be angry for avoiding internal bloodshed. Besides, consular generals don’t hold supreme power like consuls. While martial law prevails, the compromise of granting limited power is worth it.”

Aemilius gestured to the majordomo and boy to leave. Pinna guessed she would not be the only one eavesdropping; the pompous manservant was sure to remain in earshot.


You and your brother, Medullinus, have always been sympathetic to the popular party, proposing that soldiers be paid this wretched salary in the first place. And now these plebeian generals will gain an honorary seat in the Senate! It’s the beginning of the end!”

Unperturbed, Camillus smoothed his hand across his chest. “Be realistic. The latest unrest has now been solved by electing them. Although there is still resentment that Sergius and Verginius weren’t fined enough when they were tried. Those two fools should have been ordered to pay an enormous figure towards the war tax.” He gripped the armrests of his chair, voice clipped and deliberate. “This class war has to end. We can only conquer our enemies if there are no enemies within.” He turned to the son. “What do you think, Marcus?”

Throughout the conversation, Pinna observed how Marcus listened enthralled. At being included, he grinned and sat forward in his chair. “As the majority of tribes voted for the plebeians, others among our ranks must agree with you, sir.”

Aemilius’ snort of disgust caused the younger man to stiffen. Pinna smiled to herself. The senator had failed to be elected by those same tribes.

Camillus smiled at the interplay between father and son. “You are worrying unnecessarily, Aemilius. The commoners won’t find it so easy to carp and complain now that they hold office. Look at Calvus. He learned that the hard way, at Anxur.”


And you think incompetence should be rewarded by greater power?”


With responsibility they’ll realize the war tax has to be levied. How else are they going to pay the troops in the field? They won’t want to deal with a mutiny. And perhaps soldiers will accept an impost approved by their own leaders.”

Aemilius sneezed so loudly Pinna jumped. “But five of them,” he moaned, adding a cough to his misery. “Five!”

Camillus slammed his hand upon the armrest. “Enough! Most of those elected are able men. Genucius is one of them. He has fought with me many times and is a cunning tactician. And he served me in good stead last year while he was a people’s tribune. It’s a pity I don’t have as good a friend in that position this year.”

The senator grimaced. “Another tribune in your pocket? Really, Camillus, it must cost you dearly in bribes. No wonder you were the only one of us elected.”

The general’s smugness was a goad. Aemilius continued his quarrel. “I suppose you also promised Genucius public land and private plunder this time in return for his loyalty?”

Camillus relaxed back and took another sip of wine. “I don’t see why not. If Rome conquers enemy territory it would be politic to let both veterans and friends like Genucius gain a reward for their service.”

Pinna gasped. Did Camillus truly believe patrician control should be loosened over state land? If only her father had been given the chance to take his own share of the spoils instead of giving all to the treasury, debts could have been paid. Her life might have been different.

At her noise, Marcus frowned and glanced towards the side room. She stepped back from the curtain, but when the other men remained absorbed in conversation, she resumed her place. The news that Genucius was Camillus’ man was also surprising. No wonder the tribune had blocked his colleagues’ proposal that the patricians should pay extra tax.

Blowing into his kerchief, Aemilius paused to rub his forehead. “Now you really go too far.”

Camillus sighed. “I don’t propose we hand over great tracts of land. And promises cost us nothing. Now that Calvus has lost face it will be difficult for him to be reelected. As his platform is always about land, levies and loot, let’s deny him venom for his sting.”

Pinna frowned to hear the general was not as liberal as she thought. What were his motives? Where did his sympathies truly lie?

Marcus turned in his chair to smile at Camillus. “We are fortunate that you are to lead an army, sir.”

The head of the house bristled, his expression resembling that of Drusus when he’d heard Marcus praised by Genucius. Regaining composure, Aemilius leaned forward, one hand resting on his knee. “Oh but it’s not quite as grand as being a dictator, is it?”

Pinna focused on the senator. Although his appearance was disheveled, his mind was sharp. Such a man could not be dismissed merely because of a head cold. He had twice commanded an army of Rome. He had not succeeded in taking Veii, though. Perhaps he did not want anyone else to either.

This time it was Camillus who was irritated. “Perhaps a dictator is what we need. After all, your own uncle, Mamercus Aemilius, was able to defeat the Veientanes when he was given ultimate command.”

For the first time, Pinna heard the older man laugh. “And you think you could do the same? Or better? Do you think you can take Veii when all others have failed?”

The general tapped his gold ring before he spoke. Pinna wondered if he did so to ward off the evil eye or merely the scorn of his host. “Don’t worry, Aemilius, I won’t get that chance. I’m to take my army to Falerii to rout our new foe. Genucius has drawn the lot to lead at Veii.”

Aemilius’ gloating annoyed Pinna. Now she understood why Camillus was frustrated. How childish it was for politicians to bicker among themselves.

The guest rose as though to leave but, instead of calling for his toga and shoes, he moved behind Marcus. “But my intention in coming here was not really to talk about the elections.” He rested his hands on the younger man’s shoulders. The gesture was harmless and yet laden with provocation. “I came to seek permission for your son to be one of the decurions in my cavalry.”

The senator’s glow of satisfaction disappeared.


You see, I thought,” continued Camillus, “that you would prefer him to fight with one of our own, not under a plebeian commander. And as I am the only patrician …”

At the request Marcus swung around in surprise. Unable to hide his eagerness, he turned to his father for consent.

Aemilius scowled and blew his nose again, maintaining silence.


Father?”

Pinna felt a touch of pity for the older man. He must have realized that, no matter his decision, he’d already lost his son to Camillus.

Aemilius scanned Marcus’ face. “Is this truly what you want?”

The soldier glanced at the general and then back. “Yes, it would be an honor.” Then, in appeasement, he added, “Especially as I cannot fight under your command.”

After long moments, the senator grunted and rose from his chair. “Very well. Marcus may join you for this campaign. Now if you will excuse me, I’ll return to bed.”

Camillus bowed. “Thank you, Aemilius, for giving me your son.”

The older man halted, brow furrowed. “Make no mistake. The oath of allegiance he swears to you will end when you step down from office. My son knows where his loyalties lie.”


Of course, of course,” said Camillus, still standing behind Marcus. “Know also, I will fully support him when he stands for his first magistracy. That must be very soon, mustn’t it? He’s nearing thirty. It helps to have as many friends as possible when you begin your journey along the Honored Way.”

The contempt in the father’s voice was unveiled. “So we are friends now, are we?”

The consular general smiled. “Of course, my good Aemilius. When has it ever not been so?”

Glossary

Cast

TWENTY
 

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