The Golden Dice - A Tale of Ancient Rome (63 page)

There were many different categories of prostitutes, all of whom were known by colorful names. The lupae (“she wolves”) who serviced clients in “lupanarias”, were reputedly called this because they were as rapacious as wolves. The inspiration for Pinna came from reading about the unregistered “noctiluae” (nightwalkers), who were colloquially known as “night moths,” including the “busturiae” who doubled as hired mourners and plied their trade amid the tombs.

A concubine was seen as a mixture between a matron and a harlot. Her status was ambiguous and has been described as “safe and schizophrenic” (Thomas A. J. McGinn,
Concubinage and the Lex Iulia on Adultery
, Vol. 121, Transactions of the American Philological Association, The John Hopkins University Press, Baltimore, 1995, p. 370). These de facto wives were denied the status of a matron because they had committed stuprum (and, it appears, were not subject to the laws of adultery either), yet they were considered respectable enough to be accepted by society. They were usually slaves or freedwomen, although there is evidence that lower-class freeborn citizens also chose to enter into such relationships. In most instances, concubines were entitled to “divorce” their partners without consent. Often widowers chose de facto wives to avoid complications with the inheritances of their legitimate children when marrying again. Concubines were also commonly taken by young noblemen before the men reached an age to enter political life and were expected to officially wed. And it is true that Camillus was responsible for introducing a bachelor tax because of the tendency of young men to avoid marrying war widows whose numbers were growing due to the many wars being conducted at this time.

Status was signified through a dress code. Matrons were entitled to wear a stola and fillets in their hair as a symbol of both their married standing and their citizenship. In comparison, a prostitute was singled out by wearing a toga. (Compare this to the garb of Etruscan noblewomen during this period, who wore tight-fitting chitons of the finest material that showed the outline of the breasts and nipples.) See Larissa Bonfante,
Etruscan Dress
, The John Hopkins University Press, Baltimore, 2003, p. 39.) I was unable to ascertain whether a freeborn or freed concubine could wear a stola despite the fact she was a citizen. I’ve assumed the taint of stuprum would preclude such a right. Accordingly I have deprived Pinna the opportunity, too.

The origins of the Troy Game are obscure. The inspiration for the episode came from the sixth-century bc Tragliatella Vase, which portrays a horseman emerging from a spiral inscribed with the word “Truia.” This is considered the earliest depiction of the game. The rite is described in
The Aeneid
by the Roman poet, Vergil, as the final event in the funeral games commemorating the death of Anchises, who was the father of the Trojan Aeneas. Vergil alludes to the patterns formed during the initiation exercise as a simulation of the Cretan labyrinth, an escape from which is a triumph of life over death.

The character of the Phersu and his hound are depicted in the Tomb of the Olympic Games and the Tomb of the Augurs at Tarquinia. The equivalent Latin term is “persona” or masked actor. In the murals the Phersu wears a bearded red mask, pointed hat and short tunic and is torturing a hooded man by letting the dog loose on him. It is a singularly chilling sight. As Etruscan tomb art portrays the events held at funeral games, there is conjecture that the Phersu’s role was to conduct a blood sacrifice to placate the anger of the dead while revitalizing the soul of the deceased on the journey to the Beyond. (This rite was echoed in the gladiatorial battles later held at funeral games in Rome.)

As for knowledge of warfare during the early Republic, sources were scarce. Nevertheless, I have attempted to provide as authentic a depiction as possible of military campaigns, as obtained from journal articles about the period. What is of interest is that the Romans adopted their weaponry and battle formations from the Etruscans, (for example, the phalanx). Given there are many readers who are experts on the Roman army, I trust some leeway will be afforded to me for any errors I may have inadvertently made relating to military life.

A bibliography is available on my website, but sources I found of particular value in my research included: Sybille Haynes’
Etruscan Civilization
(The J. Paul Getty Trust, Los Angeles, 2000); Eva Canterella’s
Bisexuality in the Ancient World
(Yale University Press, New Haven, 1992);
Etruscans: Eminent Women, Powerful Men,
edited by Patricia S. Lulof and Iefke Van Kampen (W Books, University of Amsterdam, Amsterdam, 2012); Larissa Bonfante and Judith Swaddling’s
Etruscan Myths
(The British Museum Press, London, 2006); Larissa Bonfante’s
Etruscan Dress
(The John Hopkins University Press, Baltimore, 2003); Thomas A. J. McGinn’s
Prostitution, Sexuality, and the Law in Ancient Rome
(Oxford University Press, London 1998);
The
Oxford Classical Dictionary,
edited by Simon Hornblower, Anthony Spawforth and Esther Eidinow (Oxford University Press, New York, 2003);
The Religion of the Etruscans,
edited by Nancy De Grummond and Erika Simon (University of Texas Press, Austin, 2006); and Livy’s
The Early History of Rome
, translated by A. de Selincourt, (Penguin Books, London, 1971).

Special thanks and much love to my husband, David, for supporting me in my writing; and to my wonderful sons, Andrew and Lucas, who ground me in my family life. Thanks also to their grandma, Jacqui, to whom I’ve dedicated this book as well as my parents, Beth and John, who have sadly passed away.

My publishing journey for
The Golden Dice
has been very different to that I experienced with
The Wedding Shroud
, but it has been no less exciting or satisfying. I owe a huge debt of gratitude to the wonderful group of authors at HFeBooks for their advice and support in navigating the world of independent publishing, in particular Mary Louisa Locke and Rebecca Lochlann for acting as beta readers and hand-holders; Martha Marks for giving me guidance on converting my English from Aussie to American; and Gemi Sasson and Val-Rae Christensen for helping me understand how to typeset a paperback.

Many thanks to the patient members of my writing groups: Jacs Vittles, Crisetta MacLeod, Melissa Fagan, Marilyn Harris, Katherine Delaney and Margaret Rice. And an extra thank you to Cecilia Rice, with whom I’ve shared a passion for writing for over twenty years. I also appreciate the great efforts of my agent, Gaby Naher, in supporting me through thick and thin. A big thank you to Catherine Taylor, my copy editor at Murdoch Books, who was prepared to edit the sequel on a freelance basis; her enthusiasm for the world of Veii and her astute observations on how to improve my writing make her a delight to work with. Thanks also to Linda Scott from eFrog Press for formatting the digital version; and Dan Janeck for proofing the manuscript. Love to Lisi Schappi for designing my website and blog; I’m lucky to have such a talented “niece-in-law.” Thanks also to Rod Crundwell for composing some wonderful “Etruscan” music for the book trailer. And I’m grateful for the help I received from another family member, Kate Duigan, who produced the map. Thanks to Lance Ganey for designing the beautiful cover, and to Tom Greenwood from Greenwood Studios for doing such a professional job in producing the photo of the beautiful Marcella Wilkinson (who was so generous with her time).

My research into early Republican Rome was greatly assisted by Lea Beness and Tom Hilliard from Macquarie University. And I’m extremely grateful to the esteemed Etruscologist Iefke Van Kampen, for giving me a tour of the excavations on the Piazza D’Armi and Portonnacio D’Apollo at Veii. It is a day that I’ll always remember. Thanks also to Isa and Daniele from Artemide Guide for making my tour of Etruria so enjoyable. Through them, I was able to gain access to the necropolises at Tarquinia and Ceverteri and finally see the tombs and funerary art that have inspired so many episodes within my books. And I cannot forget the lovely Anne Clare who not only guided me around the ruins at Cortona but also was kind enough to send me photos from Museo Archeologico Nazionale at Chiusi, (including one of a wedding shroud) after all my research photos were stolen with my wallet, passport and phone on a train between Camogli and Genova! Finally, many thanks as well to all those not mentioned who have supported, encouraged and given valuable advice over the course of the writing of this book.

If you enjoyed
The Golden Dice,
you might like to read Caecilia’s story in
The Wedding Shroud
, the first book in the
Tales of Ancient Rome
trilogy.

“
All the drama and sensuality expected of an historical romance, plus a sensitivity to the realities of life in a very different time and world… Ursula Le Guin

In 406 BC, to seal a tenuous truce, the young Roman Caecilia is wedded to Vel Mastarna, an Etruscan nobleman from the city of Veii. The fledgling Republic lies only twelve miles across the Tiber from its neighbor, but the cities are from opposing worlds so different are their customs and beliefs. Leaving behind a righteous Rome, Caecilia is determined to remain true to Roman virtues while living among the sinful Etruscans. Instead she finds herself tempted by a hedonistic culture which offers pleasure and independence to women as well as an ancient religion that gives her a chance to delay her destiny. Yet Mastarna and his people also hold dark secrets and, as war looms, Caecilia discovers that Fate is not so easy to control and that she must finally choose where her allegiance lies.

Exploring themes of sexuality, destiny versus self-determination and tolerance versus prejudice,
The Wedding Shroud
is historical fiction at its best which vividly brings Ancient Rome and Etruria to life while accenting the lives of women in ancient history.