The Golden Dice - A Tale of Ancient Rome (47 page)

He gestured to Marcus and Drusus to approach. “You are going to get your chance for battle after all. We may not be able to storm Veii but we can destroy its greatest warrior and its largest army.”

Both officers grinned, joining the other commander at the table. Camillus unfurled a map. “Genucius, my friend, tell me what you think of this strategy. Mastarna’s troops should reach Veii tomorrow. Return now and feign that you no longer guard the outer siege lines. And when the Etruscan arrives, lead your forces out to meet him on the plain while my troops—”

The plebeian smiled. “Circle behind and attack from the rear.”

“
Yes, let’s crush him between us, just as he and the Faliscans did to that idiot Sergius.”

Genucius grinned. “And in glory we’ll show those bastards in Rome that they cannot pull us down.”

Camillus stood and clapped his hand on Marcus’ shoulder. “No doubt Aemilius worries that his ambitions for you are hindered by your association with me?”

Marcus showed no rancor at the two leaders’ disdain of his father and friends. “I’m afraid so, sir. But I have sworn an oath to follow you on this campaign. I owe my allegiance to you.”

“
And you do not regret that?”

Marcus faced him squarely. “Never.”

“
Good. Then how would you like to be promoted to command a turma of knights? You have proved yourself an excellent decurion. It’s time you led thirty men instead of ten.”

The officer’s mouth fell open. “Yes, sir! Thank you, sir!”

Unexpectedly, Marcus looked over at Pinna as though wanting to share his excitement. To be promoted to lead a turma was one of his dreams. Seeing her barefooted, though, must have reminded him of her betrayal. His expression clouded. He turned his back on her.

“
And me, sir?” Drusus’ zeal was childlike, his desire to also be promoted obvious. “What are my orders?”

“
Ah, Claudius Drusus.” Camillus placed his arm around the officer’s shoulders. “You are to escort General Genucius back to Veii. You shall have your chance to meet Mastarna head-on rather than circle behind him. And if the gods are kind, the opportunity may come for vengeance as well as fame.”

The Claudian saluted him, but Pinna glimpsed disappointment as he bent his head to adjust his belt. Marcus’ career had been advanced. His friend, once again, had gained greater favor.

Camillus sat down at his table once again and focused on examining the chart with Genucius. The plebeian studied it intently. Pinna guessed he no longer noticed his aching feet.

The two knights stood waiting for orders.

Their general raised his head. “Go, Marcus Aemilius! Give the command to break camp. Then ride ahead and scout for a suitable site. We must march to the outskirts of Veii by the end of the day. Tell my other officers to report also. Advise them that tomorrow they will taste victory.” He addressed the russet-haired soldier. “And you, Drusus, ready yourself to ride with General Genucius.”

The Claudian saluted, then glared at her before he hastened away. Marcus also turned on his heel, but then paused and looked back at her, rubbing the scar near his eye. His silent reproach shamed her. And the way he held himself stiffly suggested he felt vulnerable that she was Camillus’ mistress. She wanted to go to him, to say that she was sorry, to tell him he could trust her, but this was not the time.

Noticing the exchange between the concubine and her patron, Camillus kept his expression blank. “I will speak to you about Pinna later, Marcus.”

Genucius glanced up and frowned, then returned to inspecting the chart.

Watching Marcus leave, Pinna suddenly wondered if there was more to his advancement. Was it a sop to ease the general’s conscience? A bribe to ensure the young officer would not cause trouble?

Wanting reassurance she glanced across to her lover, but he’d already resumed conversing with his colleague.

Miserable, she sat down and put on her tunic and shoes.

Glossary

Cast

The new camp had been erected by the time Pinna arrived in the mid-afternoon. Each of the soldiers and workmen knew their role, their tasks completed with efficiency. Rows of tents were pitched, red and white pennants fluttering to mark the sections. The enclosure between tent line and palisade was ready to be crammed with horses, cattle, mules, supplies and fodder. Ready also to be filled with booty and prisoners.

Pinna sought out Marcus amid the noise and heat haze. She was tired and grimy from the journey. There had been no time to speak between the breaking of camp and traveling to the new location. From the moment the two consular generals had formed their plan there had been no rest. In full armor the troops quick-marched in advance, leaving the women, noncombatants and beasts straining to catch up.

Guilt consumed her, regretting that she had humiliated him. She should have heeded Camillus’ counsel instead of stoking his passion every time he called her to him. Not truly being Marcus’ lover had blinded her. Having gained credibility as his concubine she could not now shuck off the role like a snake shedding its skin. Hurt, pride and anger were not precluded merely because jealousy was lacking.

Marcus was in the enclosure checking his mount. Pinna observed how the stallion trusted him, responding to his touch and command alone.

After a time he noticed then ignored her. Determined to talk with him, she risked standing in front of horse and rider. Whinnying, the bay reared, hooves slicing the air. Pinna scrambled away. Sullen, Marcus calmed the steed and dismounted. He motioned the groom to hold its reins, barking at the servant to see that the horse was watered. The boy smirked as he led the animal away, leaving the officer and his woman to their recriminations.

Pinna touched Marcus’ sleeve, but his disdain caused her to drop her hand. “I need to explain.”

“
I have nothing to say to you.” He headed to the entrance to the main area of the camp.

Pinna scurried behind him. “Please, Marcus. I am sorry.”

He halted, thrusting his face close to hers. “Don’t ever call me by that name again! Don’t forget your place.”

She bowed her head. “I’m sorry, my lord.”

Her humility only riled him. He dragged her by the arm to stand next to the high pickets, safe from the traffic. “What good are all your sorries? The reason why I agreed for you to become my concubine was to shield my reputation from gossip. Now you’ve caused me to be ridiculed.”

She couldn’t meet his eyes. “I did not mean to hurt you.”

Marcus clasped both her upper arms. “Look at me! Are you saying that you never thought this would affect my honor? Everyone here sees you as my woman. Do you think being cuckolded by a general makes my embarrassment any less?”

Pinna raised her head, surprised at his anger towards Camillus. Even with the commander’s part in the betrayal she never thought he would see his idol as flawed. “Don’t judge him too harshly. He wanted to delay until I could speak to you and end our union. It was my fault. I tempted him. I could not wait.”

His face was white and pinched under his helmet, the scar on his neck livid. “There you were barefooted in his quarters like the whore you are. The shoes I gave you did not change your ways. And it was obvious he was confident that a subordinate would not challenge him.”

“
It is not like that. He respects you.”

He shook her hard enough to make her head fling back. “Tell me, did you tell him that you were a citizen? Wait till he learns your name is listed on the prostitutes’ roll.”

A sharp pain stabbed inside her chest. Marcus released her abruptly and tried to move away but had to wait for a wagon of grain to trundle past. Flustered, she tugged at his cloak, remembering the desperation that drove her to blackmail him in the first place. Yet hadn’t she sworn she would never reveal his love for Drusus? She couldn’t let him spoil all that she’d achieved, though. And there was a lesser threat she was prepared to use. “And what will Camillus think of you? When he discovers you made a harlot your concubine? He despises men who go with whores.”

Marcus gave a sour laugh. “Is that why Genucius did not speak up about you?”

“
All men have their secrets,” she murmured.

His look of surprise quickly changed to contempt. “And you gather them like a spider traps flies in a web, don’t you?”

Another cart passed by, dust stirred up by wheels and hooves. He pulled his cloak from her grasp. “Believe me, Pinna. I can weather Camillus’ disapproval. Better than allowing him to become a laughingstock for unwittingly taking a whore. I may be disappointed in him as a man but I have sworn an oath of loyalty to him as my general.”

Pinna grabbed onto the edge of his corselet with its horsehead crest. “I beg you, please don’t tell him. I love him.”

Derisory, scoffing, he prized her fingers away. “And I suppose you think he loves you, too. Let me tell you something. Furius Camillus is just satisfying his lust. He is not a man to be manipulated by romance.” He paused, his eyes narrowing as he glanced towards the command tent then back to her. “Unless, of course, he has a secret too.”

She stiffened. “No,” she lied, then quickly added—“even if he did I would not divulge it. Just as I would not betray you again.”

His look was withering, as though she was some base creature that should be trod upon or kicked. “Do you take me for an ass?”

Fear made her forget her earlier restraint. She clutched his arm, the metal of his wristband hard beneath her fingers. “And what of the proof of self-loathing hidden beneath this bronze?”

Menacing him only provoked greater scorn. “So you would break that promise too, Pinna? The one you swore when I left for Rome. How right I was to doubt you only weeks ago. You’re a true she wolf after all. Conniving and venal.” He wrenched away and walked away from her.

The ache in her chest tore at her. Shame and anxiety merging. Did she really hate him that much? Frantic, she ran around him and sank to her knees, prepared to abandon all chances of coercion, seeking mercy instead. “Forgive me, my lord. Take pity. I truly will never speak of your love for your friend.”

He halted, head cocked to the side, examining her. “Is that true, Pinna? Are you saying that even if I tell Camillus you’re a prostitute you won’t try to take revenge on me?”

She bent and kissed his boots, tasting the grit, smelling the odor of leather. “That’s right, my lord. I’ll remain silent.” She looked up at him. “But please, my lord, please, can’t we just free ourselves from each other instead?”

Marcus crouched beside her. For a moment she thought all was well. Then she realized she had not calmed his fury but forged it like iron. The man who could be kind had vanished. She had managed to drive compassion from him.

“
Then know that if I return alive I will tell him exactly what you are. And I will pray that respect for my valor in battle will soon override any contempt he has that I kept a whore in my bed. He will thank me, too, for sparing him ridicule.”

The pain became a deep, sharp-bladed hurt. Disbelieving, she sat back on her haunches and watched him stride off. She felt numb, scarcely comprehending what had happened. She’d always thought it would be Drusus who would destroy her.

A muleteer shouted at her to move as he drove his animals into the compound. His curses did not penetrate her thoughts. It was only when the donkeys were almost upon her that she lurched to her feet, the herd passing only a foot away.

Dazed, she headed into the main camp, passing through the commotion of shouted orders and soldiers training. Hoplites were practicing their phalanx formation. When some pretended to fall, the next line stepped over them and re-formed. In battle tomorrow the knights would charge forward as the heavy infantry cut a swath. And for one brief, guilty, savage minute, Pinna wanted Marcus to be slain.

Glossary

Cast

The night demon sat upon her chest, snakes slithering around its arms, breath rank from its vulture’s beak, flesh rotting, scaly wings arched.