by Laura Dowers
There would be no attack, Caius told them, but offered no explanation. He had walked away, head bowed, eyes on the ground, and returned to his tent. He knew Tullus would be waiting for him.
‘Reverse the order,’ Tullus said as soon as he entered.
‘I will not,’ Caius said quietly.
‘Then I will,’ Tullus declared, and strode past him towards the entrance.
Caius grabbed his arm. ‘They won’t obey you. I am their commander.’
‘Joint commander,’ Tullus snarled.
Caius laughed humourlessly. ‘Oh Tullus, we both know that isn’t true.’ He was glad Tullus was so angry. He wouldn’t have been able to bear an understanding Tullus, nor would it suit his purpose.
‘You’ve betrayed me,’ Tullus said.
‘Yes, I know, and I am sorry for it. But it can’t be helped. I cannot let you attack Rome.’
‘Let me! You wouldn’t be letting me do anything. I don’t need your permission.’
‘You need me to fight with you, though,’ Caius said. ‘You don’t stand a chance without me.’
Tullus laughed contemptuously. ‘Why? Because you are the great Caius Marcius?’
Caius didn’t answer but gave him a sly, calculated smile instead. He heard the short snorts of breath from Tullus and recognised the rise of his friend’s notorious temper.
‘And why are we not attacking Rome?’ Tullus continued. ‘Because some women asked you not to?’
‘Not some women, Tullus. My mother, my wife. Would you defy your wife and mother if they asked you to desist?’
‘By the gods, I would,’ he declared vehemently, ‘and curse them for trying to talk me out of it.’
Caius shrugged. ‘We are different, after all, then.’
‘You’re right about that. I’m no mummy’s boy.’
The insult struck home and they were both angry now. Caius grabbed Tullus by the throat. They wrestled, each trying to force the other to the ground, but as always, they were too evenly matched. They broke apart, their breaths coming fast and heavily.
‘You dare call me boy,’ Caius panted.
‘I’ll call you boy,’ Tullus growled. ‘I’ll also call you traitor.’ He spied Caius’s sword poking out from his trunk. He grabbed it and pointed its tip at Caius’s breast. ‘I will kill you for this treachery.’
‘I know,’ Caius said.
‘You should have gone with your women, then.’
Caius shook his head. ‘I have broken my oath to you and to the gods but I still have my honour, Tullus. Betrayal cannot be forgiven. I deserve to die at your hands.’
Tullus hesitated. ‘You don’t have to die, Caius. We can go back to the way things were. Just give the order to advance.’
‘I will not.’
‘Don’t make me do it,’ Tullus cried, his face screwing up, not in anger but in pain.
‘You can’t allow me to live, Tullus. The Volsci will not be so merciful and they will kill you too. You have to kill me to save yourself.’
‘Shut up!’
‘You are the only man worthy to kill me, Tullus.’
‘I said shut up!’
‘Are you a man, Tullus?’ Caius demanded. ‘Or are you a coward, after all?’
‘I’m no coward.’
‘Then do it,’ Caius yelled furiously and held his arms wide to Tullus.
Tullus screamed and forced his arm forward.
So, this is what it feels like to die, Caius thought as the blade entered his body.
It had been a strange day. First, there had been the certainty among the men that Rome would be captured. Then had come the reversal of orders and the news that they were to return to Antium, leaving Rome untouched. A few were glad at this turn of events, for the truth was they had had enough of fighting. There had been so many battles. True, they had won all of them, but those successes had not come without a great deal of suffering and death. But most of the men were angry to have their prize snatched away from them. Had not Marcius always claimed that Rome would be their final battle? And now, it seemed, Marcius had simply changed his mind and all their efforts had been for nothing.
Tullus Aufidius would not allow this to lie, many of the men said, men who had served with Aufidius for years and knew how greatly he hated Rome. Ah, but Aufidius has changed, others said, waving their fingers. Marcius has won him over completely and he will do anything Marcius says.
And then the yelling had drawn them to Marcius’s tent.
The crowd swelled as the yelling increased, straining their ears to listen. That Marcius and Aufidius were arguing was clear. The older warriors nodded knowingly; Aufidius would not let them down. There would be a march on Rome.
But then the argument stopped and there were strange noises coming from within the tent. What was going on? they mouthed to one another.
Minutes passed until one man, braver, perhaps, or just more curious than the rest, pinched the tent flap between finger and thumb and quietly drew it back. He gasped and his fellows crowded around him. An astonishing sight met their eyes.
Tullus Aufidius was crouched on the ground, his arms wrapped around the fallen Caius Marcius, whose stomach had been split open. Blood was gushing from the wound to stain the earth. But what astonished the watchers most of all was Aufidius.
He was crying. Tears were pouring down his face, some sliding into the mouth that yawned in an anguished groan. Then their brave commander, hater of all the Romans, bent his head and put his lips to the chill lips of Caius Marcius Coriolanus.
Author’s Note
Caius Marcius is best known as the hero, or antihero, of William Shakespeare’s Coriolanus. The play begins with the corn crisis in Rome when Caius Marcius is an adult and has already proved himself a great soldier. As I watched the play, I became fascinated with the idea of Caius’s life before this event.
The play was my starting point for the story but, of course, I needed to consult other material to gain a fuller picture of the lives and times I was to examine in the novel. The main source material for Coriolanus is acknowledged to be Plutarch’s Great Lives (Makers of Rome) and I have also used this, along with Livy’s The Rise of Rome Book 2 and Dionysus of Halicarnassus’s Roman Antiquities. While there are some minor differences between these source materials, the main ‘facts’ about Caius Marcius are the same.
In writing The Eagle in the Dovecote, I have played with some of these facts. For example, in these ancient texts, Menenius Agrippa dies long before Caius Marcius is exiled, but Menenius was too important a character to be lost so early and so survives beyond the story. There is also no mention of Volumnia committing suicide, but I thought her death entirely plausible and in keeping with the loss of her son. Also, Lucius Tarquin made several attempts to regain his throne, but I felt that to cover every war he waged against Rome would become repetitive and so have only included the decisive ones.
Lastly, as I did in The Last King of Rome, I have altered one of the names of the conspirators to avoid confusion with other characters sharing the same name.
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ISBN: 978-1-912968-22-0 (PAPERBACK)
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