Etruscan Blood
Page 181
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In the gradually lengthening afternoons, Tullia span yarn with Seianti and her maids. Two of the maids always sang, one starting the song, the other responding to each line, sometimes repeating it, sometimes varying the tune; when one tired, she would hand her line on to another of the women, so that though singers dropped in and out of the song, the song itself continued the whole afternoon without a pause. Sometimes all the women would join the singing for three or four repetitions of the response, and then drop out again; there must be some rule that all these women knew, but Tullia could never work out what it was, so that she was always surprised by the chorus, and never dared to join her own voice to it.
A girl went walking
by the woods and the fields
and the wheat waved to her
and the ox bowed its head.
When she came to the river
she saw a young man
with a green tebenna
and a golden crown.
Come over, come over,
come over to me,
you shall be the queen
of my fine city.
How can I come over?
the water is too fast,
there is no ford
where I can pass.
I'll throw you a thread
answered the young king
so you can come over
the wild wild water.
The hoopoe and woodpecker
warned her not to go,
kraa kraa said the raven
and the black hooded crow.
He threw her the thread.
Silver it became.
She trod lightly on it
To the other side....
Grandmother, grandmother
make me a shroud
for the king has called me
under the ground.
Winter is coming
the frost lies on the furrow
and under the round hill
I have to go.
It was an odd choice of song for springtime, and it never arrived at its conclusion, for Thresu arrived with three or four of the Tarchna contingent, and both song and spinning were put aside.
Ostensibly he'd come to talk to Seianti, but after a while he left her with his friends, and came over where Tullia sat, spinning quietly, her thoughts still caught in the tale of the girl stolen by the lasa.
"Tullia," he said, as if she weren't there; "Tullia, the little half-Etruscan girl from Rome. What a strange mixture, what a very strange... Oh, how can a girl be half one thing, and half another, and both halves something else? That's a riddle, at least to me, a real enigma."
"Thresu Spurinna, did you come here to talk pedigrees?"
He looked at her greedily, as if he was considering where to start eating her, where the flesh would be most succulent.
"Oh, talking pedigrees? Indeed not. Ignore me, Tullia my dear, I'm talking to myself, old fool that I am, old fool that Teitu tells me unceasingly that I am... I hear you're getting on well with dear Teitu?"
He misses nothing, she thought, fool though he likes to appear.
"And you must be enjoying Velzna. As am I, indeed, as am I, and not just for the excellent cuisine. I find Velzna a very civilised city, on the whole, very easy to live in, not of course that Tarchna isn't, but it's different here, not quite so …" His voice tailed off, as if he'd forgotten his train of thought, but his eyes, pale and soft as oysters, dwelt on her.
"Velx," he said. "That's where you're from, isn't it? Before Rome, I mean. You were born in Velx, brought up in Velx, so I hear. I visited Velx once. Did you ever... They have some fine women there, very fine indeed."
"Finer than you deserve, then," Tullia said.
He didn't take the hint. "Fine, but rather headstrong, the women of Velx. That Ramtha. Did you ever... I bet she's one who likes to ride her men hard."
"I wouldn't know. I only saw her once. She was the laukum's wife."
"And none too faithful to him, I heard."
"Perhaps she wasn't. What of it?"
"I wasn't there that long," he sighed. "I didn't have the chance to... but I did wonder whether... but no matter. Who were those boys last night?"
"What?"
"The ones who danced."
"I'm glad you noticed them. I didn't."
"Oh, no doubt you have better things to look for. Or perhaps you expect them to look for you; now that's a luxury I don't have, being an old man, and fat. But you're rather fine, aren't you? Altogether a nicely put together girl, though with all that fiery hair I wonder if you haven't a touch of temper to you, perhaps, or..."
He had put his hand on her knee, where it rested like a tame toad or a damp rolled dishcloth.
"Your hair would come from your mother, I suppose, not your father. I met him, did I tell you? He was very often with Ramtha, when I was in Velx. Now, that's a long time ago, I suppose..."
One of the girls was bringing round warm cakes, that she'd just fetched from the kitchen, and Tullia took advantage of the interruption to move very slightly, so that Thresu's hand fell away, but she knew this would only be a temporary respite unless she found some excuse, soon, to leave the room entirely. Unabashed, Thresu reached for the girl with the cakes, pulling her towards him and down on to his lap; but once she was there, it turned out to be only the cakes he was interested in. They were oozing with honey; Seianti was nibbling hers delicately, holding it with the very tips of her fingers, but Thresu crammed his into his mouth, not caring that he had let a dribble of honey fall from the corner of his lips.
"Aren't you having one, Tullia?" he asked, before he had quite finished it. "They're very good. And all good things have to be tasted."
He took another cake, and leant backwards, kicking his legs out to tip the girl off his lap, laughing when she staggered slightly as she rose, and nearly upset the boy who had brought winecups and a jug of steaming spiced wine.
"Don't mind old Nuncle Thresu," he said. "He doesn't mean any harm, you know." His smile was wide and sticky with honey, and innocent as a baby's. "Just a little fun, a little fun to pass the time, to pass the time in these dull winter days. Dont mind it, my dears." But Seianti was scowling, even though one of the youths Thresu had brought with him seemed to be flirting outrageously with her.
If only Seianti would say something. But though she scowled, she remained silent, and turned back to the young man, saying something that made him laugh, taking attention away from Thresu. And Thresu had noticed, now, that Tullia had moved away. She had only a few moments to think of a way out.
Suddenly, the youth with the wine was stumbling, one foot caught where Tullia had stretched out her leg, and she was twisting to get out of his way; at least, that was what she hoped everyone would see, as she caught for his left hand and pulled the jug towards her. She had to hope the wine had cooled down on its way from the kitchen; but she'd risk scalding to get away, if that was the price. She heard a sharp crack as the handle snapped off the jug; then she was drenched with hot wine, which cooled almost as soon as her clothing absorbed it, so that within moments she was shivering.
"Turan's tits!" Seianti was yelling - and Seianti never swore; "what kind of gods-blasted idiot..." and one of her girls was trying to calm her, while the lad was looking at Tullia with a ghastly abject face, and Tullia had grabbed a cloth from one of the girls and was holding it to herself, ostensibly to soak up the wine but just as much to hide her body, too visible through the clinging folds of her wet clothes, from Thresu's avid eyes.
Tullia walked over to Seianti slowly, with the kind of dignity a queen might use attending an embassy, or a mother at her daughter's betrothal, and said, very simply; "I should go."
She turned, but Thresu had got up, and was coming towards her, with a look that was half concern and half greed.
"I am so sorry," he said, taking her hand and bending over it; "so sorry, we were getting on so well, I was so enjoying your company..."
He carried her
hand to his lips, and as he kissed it, she felt his tongue darting between two of her fingers.
She pulled her hand back quickly. Only after she'd done so did she realise she'd been trapped; everyone had seen her rudeness to him, a rudeness into which she'd been provoked. In that one instinctive movement she'd probably ruined Tarquin's chances of ever winning Thresu over.