by AM Kirkby
****
Lauchme noticed her reserve on the way back; he must have felt he had upset her. She hadn't shared with him exactly her reasons for the night vigil, but she wondered if he had guessed, and perhaps dreaded what decision she might have come to. She still felt confused by the visions, uncertain how to proceed; but she had to talk to him, and now.
“I was wondering whether we should leave Rome.”
He looked unhappy. “I wondered if it might be that. So is it back to Tarchna then? Or north, to Spina?”
Perhaps that had been the wrong way to start. She was normally more diplomatic; but the strangeness of the night's dreams had put her off balance.
“We won't be moving. I'll stay with you, in Rome.”
“It was that clear?”
No, she thought, it wasn't clear at all. “We need to talk about some things, though.”
“What?” He seemed defensive. He'd need careful handling, she thought. It might be best to get this out of the way before she told him the other news.
“If we have children, they must be brought up as Etruscans. Not Romans.”
“They'll be a quarter Greek, anyway.”
He didn't understand. “Not Romans. I want them to have their heritage; the arts, the wealth, the freedom of Etruria.”
“Not much freedom for me there.”
“You know how the Romans treat their women. They can't go out, they can't take their own lovers, they can't study; they have no spirit, their souls are dead. I won't bring my daughters up like that.”
“Why say that now?”
“Because it's important.”
“But why now?”
“Oh you fool,” she said crossly, and then smiled, loving his male stupidity. “Haven't you any idea?” And then she told him why.