The Daughters of Palatine Hill: A Novel

by Phyllis T. Smith

  “I have allies in the army too,” Jullus said. “Men who will support me once I show there is a chance of success.”

  “But it will mean war,” I said.

  “If it comes to a battle, then so be it,” Jullus said. “We will win.”

  I turned to Julia. “You say the same?”

  She raised her chin. At that instant she was more her father’s daughter than I had ever seen her before. “Yes. We will fight and we will win.”

  “We will win with your help and Juba’s,” Jullus said. “You and those who are tied to you by bonds of loyalty must come over to us, right at the beginning. You must show you are on our side from the start, little moon.”

  He spoke with assurance that this aid would be forthcoming. I wondered at that moment—and would wonder ever after—why he was so sure and so willing to confide his plans in me. I think it was a testament to the strength of the bond we had formed when we were two orphan children, surrounded by those who had destroyed our parents. I felt it too—that tie that grew out of shared pain and loss.

  Julia said, “Selene, we want you with us. There will be a new day for Rome. You will see. The people will bless this day.”

  The people will bless this day. How many noble hearts had said that, not so far in the past when the Republic was ripped to shreds and Romans took up arms against each other?

  There are people who can tell themselves great lies and believe them. But I . . . even as a child, I had not had that option. I had had to face the truth unvarnished in order to survive at all.

  If Augustus was overthrown, he would be killed. What followed would be a civil war that would engulf the whole empire; I knew it in my bones. Tiberius would never accept the rule of his wife and her lover. Neither, I thought, would other leading generals who aspired to power themselves.

  I imagined Mauretania’s peace destroyed by war. My husband leaving his scholarly work to lead out an army, my son forced to become a soldier before he had time to truly learn what it was to be a man. Ptolemy and Drusilla perhaps one day suffering the same terrible losses that Jullus and I had suffered.

  I could feel in my viscera the agony of a child, deprived of mother and father, a captive at the conqueror’s mercy.

  I might avenge the blood of my parents and my brothers. I might become as powerful a queen as my mother had been. But first I would have to risk all. And win or lose, many would die.

  “There will be blood and more blood,” I said. “Jullus, do you remember what civil war has already cost us?”

  “I remember many things.”

  I took a deep breath. “My brother, don’t do this. You are gambling with your life, and more than your life. There is still time to turn back from this path. Please, turn back.”

  He had never expected me to say this, and he recoiled as if slapped. It took him a moment to collect himself. Then his expression hardened. “My path is already set. My decision is made. Understand, Sister, there can be no going back for any of us.”

  I just stared at him. The taste of death filled my mouth. I saw he had the ruthlessness to carry through his plan, whether or not it meant unleashing civil war. I knew he could not be turned aside by any words of mine. And I understood also that at this very moment, I was in great danger. There can be no going back for any of us.

  He said in a low voice, “You and Juba cannot be neutral. Situated as you are, that is impossible. This is a matter of life and death. You must be either with me or against me.”

  If I said I would not join him, would Jullus let me walk out of this house? How could he, after what he had already told me?

  He hadn’t believed that I, his younger sister, his little moon, would not follow him. I sensed it had greatly surprised him when I did not at once embrace his cause. Even now he scarcely believed it possible that I would say no. But if I hung back, he would view me as a traitor to our shared blood. My mother had executed her own sister who had betrayed her. If one is to rule, one must know how to deal with traitors. Jullus understood this, as did I.

  When I was young, the need to survive had shaped me. I was able to look at danger and keep a calm countenance. I had learned to coldly weigh odds and do what I had to do.

  Jullus spoke. “It is blood that calls to blood now, Sister. Remember our father, remember your mother. I am your older brother. I am calling on you in our father’s name. Will you not answer in loyalty?”

  “I love you, Jullus,” I said. “I have never loved you more than I do at this moment.” And it was true. I understood the causes that were impelling him forward, and I did love him.

  “Then you will you join us?” Jullus said. “You will prevail on Juba to join us too?”

  “Yes.”

  He smiled. I imagined our father smiling in just that way, on the battlefield of Philippi before he won his greatest victory. And I could suddenly see Jullus succeeding, avenging our father, and making himself ruler of the empire. Surely it was possible? Then all the shame of our parents’ defeat would be wiped away. Cleopatra and Mark Antony would triumph in the end.

  Jullus, Julia, and I spoke for a long time of plans and contingencies. The sun was setting when Jullus asked if I wished to stay the night at his lodging. He asked it almost casually. Why then did I think it was a test? Why did I wonder if he would let me leave?

  I said, “Augustus and Livia expect me to remain with them as their guest. I don’t want to create suspicion. And my children are there.”

  My brother looked at me for a long moment. Then he shrugged and said, “As you wish,” and gave me a lopsided smile. It was an expression I remembered from my girlhood.

  He was Jullus and I was Selene. There was old love, old trust between us.

  Something clutched at my heart as I embraced him.

  “Don’t worry so much, sweet Sister,” he said. “All will be well.”

  I was in my study, reading correspondence when my secretary came in. “Excuse me for interrupting you, mistress,” he said. “But the queen of Mauretania says she must speak to you at once.”

  I felt a small fluttering in the pit of my stomach. I did not know why Selene wished to see me right at that moment, but I sensed it could be nothing good. I said, “Of course. Show her in.”

  I stood as she entered. For a moment we looked at each other, and I remembered another talk we had had in this room, so many years ago. I saw the shadow of a frightened fourteen-year-old girl. But that image quickly vanished. I saw a queen, her face so grave and still it might have been carved in ivory.

  “Please sit down,” I said, and we sat on the couch. “Is there some trouble?”

  She looked at me levelly. “Julia and my brother Jullus are plotting to overthrow Augustus.”

  All the air rushed out of my lungs. “Julia and Jullus . . . ?”

  “And others.” She named several senators.

  It would have been impossible to look into that somber face and not believe the truth of her words. “You must tell me all you know,” I said.

  She did, quietly, never hesitating.

  “When will all this be set in motion?”

  “Tomorrow.” She added, “They said Augustus would not be killed. He would be allowed to retire.”

  It would not happen that way. We both knew it.

  Where was Tavius? At the Temple of Castor and Pollux, inspecting some recent repairs, I believed. “My husband is in no immediate danger at this moment?”

  “No.”

  I rose and dispatched a messenger, one of his bodyguard I particularly trusted. “Tell him he must come home immediately. The matter is extremely urgent.” I went back into the study, sat down beside Selene. “You did the right thing coming to me. Thank you,” I said.

  “I kept my oath to you.”

  “Yes. Is that why you told me? To keep your oath?”

  “It was a terrible oath I took. But I am not sure I believe in it. I am not sure I believe in my mother’s gods. Still, one’s word should be sacred, should it not?”

/>   I listened for Tavius’s steps in the atrium. But that was foolish. It would be a while yet until he came home.

  Selene and I went on talking. “I do not want war. Not for Juba or my children. Not for the people of Mauretania.” Her voice was edged with grief. “I saw what was coming. I could not permit it to happen.”

  I imagined for a moment what Tiberius would do if his wife and her lover seized power. I knew he would gather an army and battle against them, wage a savage struggle to the death. “Your action will spare many lives,” I said. “That should comfort you.”

  “And my brother’s life? Is there a way to save it?”

  I said nothing, but she read the answer in my face.

  The answer did not surprise her, but her features tightened. “I hope at least he will be permitted to die with honor.”

  For a while, we were both silent. She sat motionless, her head raised. I imagined her mother sitting on a throne in Alexandria, just as still, just as erect, waiting for the serpent’s bite.

  A lifetime seemed to pass by the time Tavius came home. We entered a room alone, and I told him what Selene had told me. His eyes went wide, and for a long time he said nothing. I think it took him that long to make himself believe what I was saying was true. He spoke finally in a hollow voice. “Once long ago you reproached me for the blood I spilled during the civil wars. You swore the gods would have their revenge. Perhaps you were right. If this is intended to pay me back for wrongs I have committed, then believe me, the gods know how to punish.”

  I shook my head. “This is not the gods’ work.” What god was cruel or malicious enough to craft this punishment, wreak vengeance on Tavius through Julia’s betrayal?

  That night Tavius did what was necessary to protect the peace of Rome.

  The impact of soldiers’ boots echoed on paving stones. The most loyal troops from Tavius’s private guard moved through the city, making arrests.

  A flare of torchlight woke me from my dream.

  “Get up!” a harsh voice shouted.

  I lay beside Jullus and pressed closer to him, blinking at the light.

  Three soldiers, armed for war, stood over us. Each held a torch, and the insane thought came to me that they intended to burn the house down around us. I could hear shouts from the corridor.

  “Get dressed,” one of the soldiers said.

  “I am the First Citizen’s daughter!” I cried.

  The soldier who had spoken had a square face and small, close-set eyes. He looked at me with utter contempt.

  “You can’t just drag us off in the middle of the night . . .”

  “Julia.” It was Jullus’s voice.

  I turned and saw his face illumined by torchlight. He did not look surprised or desperate or even afraid, but like a gallant soldier, bleeding from many wounds and waiting for the deathblow. The fact that he had already despaired sent a tremor of terror through me.

  At that moment, I allowed myself to fully understand what was happening. I looked at Jullus, and I died inside. I threw my arms around him. “I can bear anything, but we must not be apart.”

  His eyes were full of pity for me. “The gods spin a web, and we are caught in it,” he said. “Better to believe it was fate. Better to believe this is the only way it could have ended.”

  “What is ending?”

  “Our time together. My life.”

  “No!” I cried.

  He tightened his arms around me, and he kissed me. He kissed me with a fierce hunger, as if just by this act, he meant to meld our two souls together. So we would never be apart. At that instant I knew with utter certainty that he loved me. Whatever trespasses we had committed, the bond of love between us was real and true. Facing death, he proved it to me by his action. Then soldiers pulled him away from me. I saw by their faces that they thought we should be ashamed, two naked people, caught in adulterous embrace, being dragged from bed.

  Fools, I wanted to say, there is no shame. I love him!

  They pulled Jullus out of the room. “Where are you taking him?” I cried.

  The only way it could have ended. Our time together. My life.

  I screamed, “No!”

  The soldiers let me dress. Then the officer in charge said, “Come.” He put his hand on me, gripped my arm.

  “Where are we going?”

  He did not answer.

  Soldiers packed the hall. A knot of Jullus’s servants stood huddled together. I realized they would be interrogated. Would my father have them tortured to get them to tell Jullus’s secrets and mine? Three of my own servants had come here to serve me. I saw Phoebe in the group, and we exchanged a glance. Her eyes were full of terror. Then I was taken away, one soldier shoving me from behind, another who had hold of my arm pulling me.

  I felt an inward shock—that common soldiers should deal with me this way, with no courtesy at all.

  “Where are we going?” I said again.

  Again my question was met with silence.

  “I want to see my father! I demand to see him.”

  The soldier who had hold of my arm gave a chuckle. “Oh, never fear, you will see him.”

  I was not afraid for myself even then, not physically afraid. My fear was for Jullus, for Jullus above all. And then for the others—Gracchus and the rest who were privy to our plot. I thought of Phoebe’s face, the awful fear I saw there. She was a freedwoman now, not a slave. I told myself that meant they could not legally torture her. But I knew laws could be broken.

  At the road, the officer stopped as if startled by his own thought. He turned to me and said, “Do you have any weapons on you?”

  “Weapons?” I said stupidly.

  He ran his hands over my body, felt my chest, my waist.

  “Are you searching for a dagger? What do you imagine I would do with it? Attack your soldiers?”

  Maybe he was afraid that I would slash my throat and escape him, I thought. Or maybe—yes, of course, since he was bringing me to my father—it was Father he feared I would attack.

  I could almost have laughed at the absurdity. “I would never harm my father,” I said.

  The officer looked me hard in the eyes, the way you would look at a criminal or perhaps a lunatic. Then he lifted me into a cart that was waiting and pushed me roughly into a seat. He sat on one side of me, and another soldier sat on the other side.

  Overhead, I could not see the moon or any stars. The sky was pale gray. The cart began to move. It went up the Palatine Hill, in the direction of my father’s house.

  Inside myself I cried out, Jullus!

  Father’s steward darted a nervous glance at the soldiers and then at me. “Take her in there, please,” he said, and he gestured toward Livia’s sitting room.

  The homely familiarity of this room leant a sense of unreality to what was happening. I had sat in here so many times with Livia. But now she was not alone. Father was with her. He stood facing away from the door, looking down at the brazier that heated the room. Staring at nothing. Livia meanwhile sat on a couch. She rose when I entered. I saw how tense her face was—as if someone had pulled the skin back more tightly over the bones. She stared at me with her great dark eyes.

  Father turned around. His face was pale, and his eyes glittered with rage. “Leave her here,” he said to the officer who had been standing by uncertainly. “You wait outside.”

  “Father—”

  “Don’t call me that. You are no longer my daughter.”

  I felt a tightening in my guts.

  “I know all your plans,” he said. “Don’t bother to lie. I know everything.”

  I shook my head, as if with wonderment. “Has someone been speaking against me to you, Father? Against me and Jullus?”

  He did not answer.

  “Selene had the good sense and the loyalty to come to me,” Livia said.

  I found I was not truly surprised. I remembered how she at first had tried to sway Jullus from the path he was on.

  “And you believe her accusati
ons, Father? Against your own daughter?”

  “All the fools you drew into your conspiracy, Sempronius Gracchus and the rest, are being rounded up even now,” Father said. Then he asked coldly, “Who initiated this scheme? Jullus, I suppose? Or was it Gracchus’s idea?”

  We stared at each other. A great deal of time seemed to pass; seas could have turned to desert in that time. My voice finally broke the silence. “I was the initiator, Father. The others went along with me out of love and friendship.”

  “I don’t believe you. It was Jullus, wasn’t it?”

  Jullus and me. We thought of the plan together. Because we are one. “I had to persuade him. He only agreed because he loves me.”

  “Are you informed of what the penalty for patricide is, Julia? To be tied up in a sack with crazed beasts and thrown into the river. Do you understand why the punishment is so horrible? Because to kill a father—the one who gave you life—is the epitome of ingratitude and disloyalty. No other act is so base.”

  “But you’re alive, Father.” I felt my lips twist into a semblance of a smile. “You would have been alive in any case. If we succeeded, you never would have been harmed.”

  Livia spoke next, her voice as I had never heard it before, charged with cold fury. “Can you possibly believe that?”

  My eyes were still on my father’s face. “You would have been allowed to retire—to return to Velitrae.” I desperately wanted him to believe me, to know I had not planned his death. But there was no change in his expression. I might as well not have spoken.

  “Your friends would have slit my throat,” he said. “And I can almost forgive that now, for the gods know at this moment I am sick of living. But what you would have done to Rome is beyond all forgiveness.”

  “We would have saved Rome from Tiberius. Even if we had to fight, it would have been worth it.”

  Livia took a step toward me, her face full of anger and fierce pride. “My son would have rallied the army. He would have met you in battle. And I assure you, he would have won.”