Etruscan Blood
Page 35
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Despite his opposition to 'the Etruscan deal' – and if there had been an Etruscan deal, Tanaquil would have known about it – Faustus had been canny not to declare an allegiance. It was plain that he was loath to enter an alliance with Tarquinius, but he had been noticeably absent from the declarations of support for Ancus Marcius' son. Tanaquil wondered if he was preparing a bid for the kingship himself.
That seemed more likely when she heard him dismiss suggestions that he might be made interrex on the death of the king. The interrex might rule Rome in the gap between the old king's death and the selection of a new one, but it was a position which – since the interrex couldn't propose himself as king – virtually guaranteed the political nullity of its incumbent.
The whole of Rome seemed to be fermenting; everyone moving from one house to another, always in the streets, always talking. Tanaquil's quarters were crowded with placeseekers and rumourmongers, every evening; their eyes flickered as they talked to you, flicking away from your face to see who else was there, who was talking to whom – while the smile stitched on someone's face was still turned to you, she'd be considering whether greater advantage was to be gained elsewhere.
She was surprised to see even some she considered Old Romans. Had Faustus' near-treason led to a breach with them? Were they reconsidering their opposition after assessing Robur's character? Or were they simply looking for the best advantage, like everyone else?
"Tarquinius wouldn't be the first foreigner to rule Rome," she pointed out to one of them, his skinny arms exposed by his toga. "The Sabine Tatius was co-king with Romulus. It was another Sabine, Numa, who gave Rome her temples and her laws."
"But they were Sabines, not Etruscans."
"Yes, but they weren't Romans. And you know, Sabines are rather different, too."
"Even Ancus Marcius has a good bit of that Sabine gloominess in him."
"Oh yes; I'd forgotten he was Sabine by ancestry," she said, though of course she had not forgotten it at all. You had to be careful how you reminded these Romans of their polyethnicity, she thought; and don't mention the Greeks, either. But once she'd started that discussion, the Old Roman found himself admitting that he had a Sabine grandmother, and a couple of the others there admitted to Faliscans in the family, and she was able to move on.
Somewhere in the crowd she caught sight of her husband, and steered towards him, but a hand caught her sleeve, and she stopped, recognising the woman who had told her she'd never change anything.
"I always knew you'd do it," the woman said. "No one believed in you, but I always did – I told you so – I always knew you could do anything you set your mind to."
Oh, indeed you did, Tanaquil thought sourly, and no doubt you'll be wanting something in return. Even if it's only for me to be gracious; and she was tempted to say exactly what she was thinking, played the scene in her mind, saw the woman's mouth turn sourly down even more than it did before. Had the throne been secure already, she would have acted it for real; but now she had a part to play, and she said sweetly, "I'm sure my husband thanks you for your support" (which was, if not exactly true, at least not such a lie as an expression of her own gratitude would have been), and moved on.