by Laura Dowers
‘This is our witness,’ Mettius declared.
‘You treacherous bastard,’ Lucius Aquilii roared, recognising his slave.
‘No,’ Brutus bellowed, stepping forward and displacing Mettius on the platform, ‘a true Roman. This is Vindicius, a slave in the house of the Aquilii. He heard every word uttered by these traitors and hurried to do his duty by Rome and tell of their treachery. It is because of him that their despicable plot has been uncovered. It is to Vindicius we owe our continued liberty.’ Brutus grabbed Vindicius and dragged him forward, thrusting him before the people. Vindicius looked terrified but the crowd began to cheer. A bewildered smile spread upon his face.
Collatinus looked back at the prisoners. The Aquilii were both spitting and shouting venom at the slave, no doubt just as furious with themselves for not considering he might be a threat to their security. That’s the way with slaves, Collatinus thought, you grow so used to their constant presence, you barely notice when they are in the room. It’s easy to forget they have eyes, ears and mouths. He made a mental note never to speak anything he did not want repeated before a slave of his again. The Vitellii were also looking angry, though so far they had remained silent. Only the sons of Brutus showed any fear.
The trial began. Mettius charged the prisoners with treason and demanded their response. The Aquilii brothers didn’t hesitate. They were not guilty of treason, they declared hotly. It was the Senate and the people of Rome who were the guilty ones, guilty of mistreating their king. The Vitellii gave the same pleas, but not the same retorts. The sons of Brutus declared they were not guilty of treason, that they had been misled and deceived by the others. They had not wanted bloodshed, they said through their tears, they had specifically said the senators were not to be harmed. Mettius queried Vindicius on this, and the slave confirmed the truth of their words. They relaxed visibly at his affirmation, no doubt believing he had made them safe, though they had to endure the fury of their co-conspirators, who swore and spat at them.
Mettius turned to the senators. ‘How do you find the prisoners?’
The senators did not hesitate. ‘Guilty,’ came the collective cry, and the crowd cheered.
Collatinus moved to Brutus, who stood rigid, his eyes on a distant spot above the crowd. Leaning in close, he whispered, ‘Do not insist on death, Brutus.’
‘The senators have found them guilty,’ Brutus said, not looking at Collatinus.
‘But you are our leader. If you say there must be a different punishment, they will listen to you.’
‘I have said what the punishment must be.’
‘These are your sons, Brutus,’ Collatinus cried desperately. ‘How can you put them to death?’
Brutus slowly turned his head towards Collatinus, his eyes hard and narrowing. ‘The prisoners have been found guilty,’ he shouted to the crowd who immediately quietened. ‘The punishment for such a crime against the Roman people is death. But this man,’ he pointed at Collatinus, ‘would have me ignore the law and not have these traitors executed. He would have me show pity because two of the guilty are of my blood. He would have us exile these creatures as we have exiled their master. To do so would be madness.’
Brutus paused and Collatinus took advantage of his silence to appeal to the crowd. ‘We cannot ask a man to kill his sons.’ Even as he spoke, he wondered why he risked Brutus’s wrath to save the sons his old friend wanted to kill. Murmurs came from the people, and Collatinus sensed that some, if not many, agreed with him.
But Brutus found his voice again. ‘They are not my sons,’ he declared. ‘They are maggots eating away at the purity of my family. See,’ he pointed at a party of three women immediately below the rostra, their heads covered, their faces buried in their hands, ‘see there my wife, my daughters. See how they weep, all because of these wretches who were once my sons but are no more.’
‘Save them for your wife, man,’ Collatinus pleaded.
Brutus rounded on him and Collatinus saw nothing but madness in his eyes. ‘Traitor,’ Brutus screamed. ‘My people, this man cannot be trusted. Let him know that if he continues to defend the allies of Lucius Tarquin, he too will be found guilty of treason.’
Collatinus stared open-mouthed at Brutus, realising he meant what he said. He closed his mouth and stepped away. He would protest no more but no more would he be party to this madness. If this was the new Rome, Collatinus decided, Brutus could keep it. He would go to his domus, pack all his belongings he could carry and leave. There was a whole world beyond Rome’s walls. He would seek a new home and a new life elsewhere.
Ever since the trial of the conspirators, Volumnia had deemed it prudent to prolong the fiction of Caecilius’s illness and for them both to stay shut up in the domus, but the enforced isolation was getting on her nerves. She knew Caecilius loathed himself for his lies and he had turned that loathing towards Volumnia. When she refused to rise to his taunts that she was a coward as much as he, he turned to wine for comfort, and had been drinking steadily so that he was now barely conscious. Volumnia preferred him this way — at least he was quiet — and told Caius to stay out of their cubiculum to where Caecilius had retreated.
But she needed to know what was happening in the city. She didn’t trust her slaves to find out or bring her accurate news, so she decided she would make the journey to the forum herself and hear the praeco, Rome’s herald. She dressed so as not to draw attention to herself and slipped out the front door, pulling her shawl up over her head.
‘Volumnia, is that you?’
She halted, her heart in her mouth. She was hardly six steps from her domus. Were they being watched that she should be accosted so early in her journey?
‘Volumnia?’
A hand touched her elbow and she jumped, turning her head slowly. ‘Oh, Menenius, it’s you,’ she said, her entire body relaxing.
‘Well, who did you think it was?’ he laughed. ‘I was just on my way to see you and Caecilius.’
‘My husband is drunk,’ she said with a curl of her lip. ‘You won’t get anything sensible out of him.’
‘Oh, I shan’t bother then. But where are you going?’
‘To the forum.’
‘No, I don’t think you should, my dear.’
‘Why not?’ Volumnia asked, a trifle fearfully.
Menenius shuffled his feet. ‘Why don’t we go back to the domus?’
‘I’m going to the forum, Menenius,’ she said, forcefully.
‘You will not want to, I assure you.’ He sighed as she stared at him, refusing to budge. ‘The conspirators are to be executed today. That is why I was coming to visit you. I didn’t have the stomach to witness the executions.’
‘I want to see it,’ Volumnia said, a trickle of ice running down her spine. What if they confessed all before they died? If her family was to be named, she wanted to know it. ‘I shall go, Menenius, you will not stop me.’
‘If you insist, then I shall go with you,’ Menenius said, clearly annoyed by her stubbornness. ‘Caecilius would never forgive me if I left you to go alone. Shall we?’ He extended his arm for her to take.
Volumnia stared at it for a moment, annoyed at his insistence on escorting her as if she was a child, but she didn’t want to waste time arguing and so curled her arm around his. They began to walk, neither saying a word to one another.
They reached the forum. It was crammed full of people and she had to elbow her way through towards the Senate house outside which the executions were to take place. Menenius followed her reluctantly through the crowd, cursing and groaning at intervals whenever someone stepped upon his toes or elbowed him in the ribs.
Volumnia spotted her mother in the crowd, standing almost a head above everyone else, for Aemilia was a tall woman. She changed direction towards her mother, telling Menenius to follow. She grimaced when she saw her brother Kaeso was also there. ‘Mother,’ she said, ‘have you come to see the executions?’
‘No, I have not,’ Aemilia said scornfully, nodding a greet
ing at Menenius. ‘Your brother and I were shopping and then the executions were announced. I would like to leave but there is hardly room to breathe and I don’t want to have to fight my way out of here. Besides,’ she lowered her voice, ‘Kaeso is excited and wants to see them.’ Kaeso was clinging to Aemilia’s arm, grinning stupidly. ‘Menenius,’ Aemilia frowned, ‘shouldn’t you be up there with the other senators?’
‘I excused myself, lady,’ he said, looking towards the grouped senators behind the steps. Brutus was there, standing a little apart, his face grim. ‘Like you, I didn’t relish the spectacle. I can take you all home if you wish. Perhaps it would be better.’
‘Menenius, will you be quiet?’ Volumnia snapped. ‘I want to see the executions and I’m not going home.’
Aemilia gave Menenius an exasperated look, but just then, the prisoners were brought onto the steps, and all faces turned in their direction. Volumnia looked upon the prisoners and a shiver ran through her body as she realised it could just as easily be Caecilius standing up there, his wrists and ankles shackled, surrounded by armed guards. Thank the gods she had had the sense to warn him against going to the Aquilii that night.
The prisoners were stripped of their clothing so they stood naked for all to see. Then the armed guards tied each man to a cart that had been brought forward for the purpose, their bodies bent forward, their backsides in the air. Six of the guards were furnished with rope whips, their several cords knotted at intervals. On Brutus’s command, the guards struck, again and again. The prisoners cried out, at first with each strike, then continually as the pain did not recede before the next blow but throbbed and stung, their backs nothing but red, raw flesh, their blood trickling over their flanks and down their legs to speckle the Senate house stones. Onlookers standing in the front row of the crowd were daubed with their blood as the whips flew.
It was mesmerising to watch, to see the blood flow, to hear the men’s cries. It was only when the whips stilled that Volumnia heard the sound of the crowd in her ears and realised that not everyone was cheering. Aemilia had her head down, her hand over her eyes. Kaeso had lost his expression of excitement; his face now bore an expression of shock and confusion. Volumnia caught Menenius’s eye.
‘You should go home,’ he said, his voice shaking. ‘Caecilius would not want you to see this. I was wrong to let you come.’
She gave a snort of disgust. ‘You are not my husband, Menenius, to tell me what I can and cannot do. And why should I not see this?’
‘It is not fit for a lady’s eyes,’ Menenius persisted, his hands on her shoulders as if he could force her bodily from the forum. ‘Such brutality.’
‘But this is justice, isn’t it? Those men have been denounced as traitors.’
Menenius shook his head and released her. ‘I don’t know how Brutus could stand by and watch his sons be punished in this way.’
‘I understand him,’ Volumnia said, her eyes seeking out Brutus. He hadn’t moved. He had his arms folded over his chest and his eyes were fixed on his sons. She couldn’t tell from such a distance but he didn’t look as if he had yet shed a tear. ‘He’s a true man, mindful of his honour. His sons disgraced his family and he cannot allow that to go unpunished. I would do the same.’
‘You would?’ Menenius asked, horrified.
‘If I were a man and had the power,’ Volumnia nodded. ‘Of course, Caius would never do anything to disgrace his family so I will never be placed in such a situation, but I would do it if I had to.’
Menenius stared at her for a long moment, then shook his head. ‘You would not, Volumnia. I do not believe you.’ He leaned in close. ‘And besides, I thought you were in favour of the monarchy. I thought you would have applauded the conspirators’ efforts to bring Tarquin back, not revel in their failure.’
‘Perhaps I have been wrong,’ Volumnia shrugged carelessly, returning her gaze to the prisoners. ‘I don’t believe the king would ever have had the strength of character to execute his sons, and the gods know, they have disappointed him often. Quiet now.’
The prisoners were being released from the carts. The Brutus and Vitellii brothers stumbled as the guards tried to make them form a line before the crowd, but Marcus and Lucius Aquilii walked almost proudly to their appointed spots. All six were forced onto their knees. The guards drew their swords and moved to stand behind them.
Mettius Trebonius gave the word and the guards plunged their swords downward. The men cried out, their bodies writhing as the swords continued their path through their spines, severing the vertebrae. The guards pulled their swords out and the men collapsed, dead.
Volumnia breathed a sigh of relief. The men had died without naming her husband as their co-conspirator.
The sound of women screaming broke the silence that had fallen. Volumnia stood on tiptoe to try to see who had screamed. ‘Who is that?’ she asked Menenius.
‘That will be Brutus’s wife and daughters, I expect,’ Menenius said.
‘There’s Brutus now,’ Aemilia said, pointing towards the platform.
Brutus was moving forward, stepping over the bodies to reach the front of the platform. He held up his arms. ‘For his services to Rome, the slave Vindicius is to be given his freedom.’ Brutus waved Vindicius forward, and the slave came forward tentatively, trying not to look at the bodies. Brutus pressed a small leather bag into his hand and some of the crowd cheered.
‘What did he do?’ Volumnia asked Menenius.
‘He was Lucius Aquilii’s slave. He overheard the whole plot and told Publius Valerius.’ Menenius’s lips curled in distaste. ‘That a slave should be rewarded for informing on his master. It goes against all we hold dear.’
‘I agree,’ Volumnia nodded. ‘If any slave of mine opened his mouth to tell of what went on in our family, I wouldn’t just have him whipped, I can tell you.’
They watched as the bodies of the conspirators were gathered and hauled onto the cart, the guards slipping and sliding in the blood they left behind.
‘It’s over now, Volumnia, you’ve seen all there is to see,’ Menenius said, taking hold of her elbow. ‘Lady Aemilia, would you like to come with us?’
‘Yes, we would,’ Aemilia said earnestly. ‘Thank you, Menenius.’
The crowd began to disperse and movement became easier. Aemilia grabbed Kaeso’s wrist and pulled him along behind her. She was visibly shaken by what they had all witnessed, Volumnia knew, but then her mother had always been weak.
As they walked back to the domus, Volumnia’s mind was on Brutus and how brave he had been. It took a special kind of person to sacrifice their children for the good of Rome. Brutus must truly believe in the idea of a republic. And if as strong a man as Brutus believed a republic was for the good of all Romans, then maybe it was time for Volumnia to become a true republican too.
10
Lucius bit down on the plum, feeling the juice spill over his lips and run down his chin. Before it could spill onto his toga, Lolly had pressed a linen cloth to his chin and wiped the juice away. He smiled at her and she smiled back.
Life had certainly improved since arriving in Tarquinii. For one thing, Lolly had stopped complaining about the hardships of living in tents. One of Tarquinii’s more sycophantic citizens had vacated his domus and offered it to the Tarquins, theirs for as long as they chose to remain in the city. It was not as spacious or as luxurious as their own royal domus in Rome had been, but it was a more than acceptable substitute for their tent.
And there was entertainment to be enjoyed too, something that had been sorely lacking in the Roman camps. Tonight, he and Lolly were enjoying a troupe of dancers at another citizen’s domus, an exuberant finale to the fine dinner they had consumed. The dancers were excellent, Lucius thought as he swallowed the plum, probably Etruscan, like his ancestors, for everyone knew all the best performers were Etruscan. Except the Romans, he thought ruefully. They wouldn’t know good dancers if they kicked them in the face, just as they hadn’t appreciated him as their kin
g. The dance came to an end, and he clapped vigorously in appreciation but his thoughts were still on his former Roman subjects. I’ll show them, he told himself. If they thought I was ruthless before, then as soon as I’m back in Rome, I’ll show them how vengeful I can be.
‘Weren’t they good, Lucius?’ Lolly said, leaning up against him. ‘We should hire them when we get back to Rome.’
Lucius nodded an assent and looking up, caught sight of Titus threading his way through the audience, making for them. ‘Where has he been?’
‘He said the envoys from Rome were returning tonight and he wanted to meet them.’ Lolly beamed up at her son as he approached. ‘Titus, such a shame you’ve missed the dancers.’
‘Yes, I’m sure, Mother,’ Titus said distractedly, crouching down before them.
‘What’s the matter?’ Lucius asked, noticing his son’s grim expression.
‘The envoys have returned, Father.’ He shook his head. ‘It isn’t good news.’
‘Wait,’ Lolly said, putting her hand on Titus’s shoulder as he opened his mouth to continue. She stood and addressed their host sitting a few feet away. ‘Thank you, it’s been a wonderful evening. But we must go to our beds now. I’m very tired.’ Gesturing to Lucius to rise, Lolly made their farewells, and all three strode out of the domus. As they entered the cool night air, and the torch boys roused themselves to escort them home, Titus tried to speak again, but again Lolly shushed him. It wasn’t until they were back in their loaned domus that she allowed him to deliver his bad news.
‘The envoys were lucky to get out of Rome alive,’ Titus said. ‘They met with the Senate and asked for our goods and property back. The Senate were considering it, they said, though the envoys said there was no true enthusiasm to make restoration. My letter was delivered to the Aquilii and they acted on it. They had the support of the Vitellii and, you’ll like this part, Father, Brutus’s own sons, Tiberius and Titus.’ He smiled, but then the grin dropped off his face. ‘But it was all for nothing. They were betrayed by a slave who overheard the entire plan. He informed on them and they were all arrested and executed. The envoys were told to leave or they would be killed too.’