by AM Kirkby
***
Naturally, the real work of diplomacy was not conducted at such public events as the delegates' welcome banquet, although Thresu's intervention had changed the rules somewhat in that regard; there were numerous meetings over the next few days, one delegate or another with either Tarquinius, or Tanaquil, or Manius, though Manius' brief was carefully limited to tactical questions and matters of logistics. There was a decided advantage to this as far as Tanaquil was concerned; she could not be seen to involve herself in front of the Romans, but behind the scenes in the palace she was free to negotiate with the Etruscans. And, since they were Etruscans, they were quite ready to negotiate with her.
Pure and Tanaquil made an odd pairing; Tanaquil's archly elegant slenderness, Pure stocky and forthright. But both showed their Etruscan allegiance in the clothes they wore, bright turquoise and red and purple, in their huge circular earrings and the heavy gold around their necks.
There were honey-cakes and dried apple rings set out on the table, but Tanaquil noticed that Pure only played with them, pushing them around on the dish; and the level of the wine in her cup never went down. Nor had Pure been distracted by the youth Tanaquil had asked to serve the wine, the same dancer Pure had taken a liking to at the banquet; she had simply smiled fleetingly at him, then turned back to Tanaquil.
"I'm glad you still keep your Etruscan customs at home," Pure said. "I must admit, when I saw you in homespun at the banquet, I wondered if you'd gone native."
"Just the fact I was there at all should have told you the opposite."
Pure shrugged. "I suppose. Dear gods, that was a trial. Only two women in a crowd of men. It's simply not natural."
"I worry for my daughter," Tanaquil said, though that was a half truth; it was Tarquinia's passivity and lack of talent that really worried her. "Women in Rome now are slaves, all of them."
"Aren't we all slaves to men? In one way or another?"
"It's not a metaphor here. It's their actual legal status."
Though Pure's face was well schooled, and her voice steady, Tanaquil could see that this had shocked her; it was the eyes, you could always tell by the eyes, they rounded and opened that infinitesimal fraction, even though the rest of the face remained set.
"They belong to their fathers; later, to their husbands, who can dispose of them as they see fit," she said. "Actual slavery."
"You'll change that, of course?"
"I hope to."
"And Tarquinius agrees with you?"
"Of course."
"It must be difficult," Pure said, feeling her way slowly, "expanding Etruscan influence while retaining Rome's independence of action."
"You mean it's difficult giving them Etruscan culture while they see your cities as the enemy."
Pure looked at her sharply. Well, thought Tanaquil; you're not used to blunt speaking from others, though it's a tactic you use yourself?
"It's difficult giving them any culture at all. Remember, Pure, it was outlaws started this town, all the riff raff the Albans and Sabines and Latins had thrown out. Just getting some respect for the rule of law is hard enough."
"Respect for the gods?"
"Difficult to say. They respect the practice of augury, but none of them understand it. They think it's simple; healthy liver equals good news, you will meet a tall dark stranger kind of stuff."
"It isn't?"
Tanaquil was aghast. Pure might not be the highest level of augur, but surely she knew enough to... then she realised the woman was laughing at her. Oh, she was up against an opponent her own size, all right; at last! At last! After years dealing with blunt, earnest Romans and gloomy dull Sabines, to find someone who could actually surprise her made her blood run warmer. She laughed, throwing her head back and tossing her braids.
"We give them hints of the Discipline. But they don't seem to take to it."
She had her own theory about that, which she'd mentioned to Tarquinius a few times. To see the meaning in things, you had to be, yourself, fluid; to flow into things, to extend your senses like tendrils of ink in moving water. So to be too sure of yourself, of the boundaries between your own being and others, impoverished you as an augur. A woman who could not sense the god in her own blood, who cut herself off from maleness, would never see clearly into the branching futures. The Romans imprisoned their women because they feared what was female in themselves; they were desperate to prove themselves men. You could see that from the way they punished themselves; cold baths, military discipline, plainness in clothes, building, food - they even made a virtue of ugliness. And until they freed their women - until their women took that freedom on themselves - the Romans would always need the Etruscans to read their auguries for them. She still hadn't convinced Tarquinius.
Pure shrugged. "But you still keep to the discipline?"
"Of course."
"And your husband?"
"He's half Greek, of course, you know that."
"Yes," said Pure, with a small pout.
Duly noted, Tanaquil thought; I'll do what I can for Tarchna, but at least now she knows my own resources are limited. She led, now, into a discussion of the alliances within the Etruscan Confederation, which seemed to change and shift like the braided channels in the wet sand of the beach, now meeting, now diverted, even the water always flowed in the same direction in the end. Cisra might be with Velzna and with Veii, though Veii and Velzna were at odds; there were leverages that could be used, there were small cracks into which doubt or dissent could be seeded, that might eventually split apart the strongest coalition. It was like augury, diplomacy, the way Etruscans did it; part of the flow.
That didn't stop Pure being brutal, at times. (It didn't stop Tanaquil, either.)
"Look, you could ally yourselves with Veii, but why in all the hells would you want you? They're hidebound reactionaries. Aristocracy is all very well, but you know, and I know, you need your Greeks, your Carthaginians, to get things moving. Maybe you don't make the first generation full nobles, maybe you set limits on how many you take, but they're crucial. But Veii would rather purebloods live in squalor than let the darkies or the bum-fuckers in. You'd be better off with Velx."
Bum-fuckers, Tanaquil thought. I'm married to one.
"What's with Velx?"
"The Vipienas think pretty much the way the Spurinnas do. Modern. Talent, competence, new ideas. They wouldn't have too much of a problem with the way Rome does things, I should think."
starthere
***
Tarquinius
Tarquinius' nightmares, the darkness
The stone against his head
reaching out, and everywhere is stone...