by Laura Dowers
Tarquinia returned from her holiday in the country with a slightly sunburnt face and a declaration she was glad to be home. Servius embraced and kissed her and ordered wine and dates to be brought while he took off her sandals and rubbed her feet as she reclined on one of the triclinium’s couches.
He listened with strained attentiveness as she recounted the details of her stay: how tall the sons of her friend had grown, how the estate was managing following the blight that had affected the barley crop and how uncomfortable her bed had been. She prattled on and Servius let her, wanting to put off the announcement that the girls were to be married next month for as long as he could.
But he knew he couldn’t put it off indefinitely, and after she had eaten her fill, he broached the subject. Tarquinia stared at him while he talked, not interrupting once. The silence that followed struck him as ominous. Where was the shouting? Where were the tears?
‘So soon?’ she said at last.
‘Well, not that soon really,’ he said. ‘They are all old enough.’
Tarquinia shrugged. ‘As you and Mother decide,’ she said and saying she was tired, left the room to retire.
When Servius went to bed, earlier than normal as a courtesy to Tarquinia, he expected her to treat him coldly, but he was surprised. She greeted him civilly, if not exactly lovingly, and made room for him in the bed.
‘Where will they live?’ she asked as he pulled the bedclothes up to his chin.
‘Your mother thinks they should live with us here in the domus.’
Tarquinia grunted. ‘We will be able to keep an eye on them, at least.’
‘Yes, I suppose we will. You’re agreeable, then?’
‘No, of course I’m not agreeable,’ she snapped, ‘but I know I won’t be listened to, not if Mother has anything to do with it.’
‘Tarquinia!’
‘And I will not pretend to the girls that I am happy about it, so don’t ask me to.’
‘Very well, my love,’ Servius said, aware her response was the best he could hope for.
Servius fixed a smile on his face as his daughters entered. As always, his heart swelled to see them. These girls of his had taken their time to enter his life and he treasured every moment he spent in their company.
Tullia, so like her mother in looks and temperament, docile and amenable, conformable to the wishes of others, was a girl to be cosseted and protected. Lolly was different. She had a character all of her own. Not everyone approved of her determination to have her own way all the time, Tarquinia for one, but it was a delight to him to see his little madam stamp her foot and give her orders, the tender rosebud mouth pouting. Tarquinia wondered where Lolly got her character from but Servius knew she’d inherited it from both her grandparents. From Lucomo she had inherited her sense of entitlement and pride, from Tanaquil her single-mindedness and brains. What, he sometimes wondered, did either of his girls get from him?
‘Get on with it, Servius,’ Tarquinia said sharply. ‘Girls, attend to your father.’
Both girls were standing before him expectantly. His smile held in place, he began, ‘Your mother and I—’
‘Your father and your grandmother,’ Tarquinia corrected.
‘We’ve decided,’ Servius said with only the slightest flicker of his eyelids betraying his annoyance, ‘it is time you were both married.’
Tullia blushed. Lolly’s eyes widened in interest.
‘Who are we to marry, Father?’ Lolly asked.
‘Lucius and Arruns,’ he said.
‘And which am I to have?’
‘You, Lolly, will marry—’
‘Lucius?’
He shook his head. ‘Arruns, as the younger.’
‘No,’ she cried. ‘Why? I don’t see that age matters at all.’
‘Lolly,’ Servius said sternly, ‘you will do as you are told and you will marry who I say you will marry.’
Lolly opened her mouth to retort, but her father’s expression seemed to change her mind.
‘So, I am to be given to Lucius?’ Tullia asked quietly.
‘You are, my dear,’ Servius nodded.
‘And may Vesta protect you,’ Tarquinia murmured from her corner.
Tullia turned to her. ‘Why, Mother?’
Tarquinia folded her arms and glanced at Servius before answering. ‘Because, my poor Tullia, in marrying Lucius, you’re going to need all the good fortune you can get.’
‘What do you think Mother meant by that, Lolly?’ Tullia asked as the girls returned to the garden where they had been spinning their daily quota of wool.
Lolly picked up a cushion from a stone bench and began hitting the slave who stood by the nearest column. ‘Why — do — you — get — to — marry — Lucius?’ she demanded, each word a hit for the slave whose only defence was to turn his head away.
‘Oh, Lolly, don’t do that,’ Tullia said, snatching the cushion out of her sister’s hand. ‘You’ll burst the stitching.’
‘I don’t give a fig about the stitching,’ Lolly spat, pushing the slave away. She flung herself down on the bench.
Tullia sat primly on the very end of the bench, smoothing the cushion on her lap. ‘I wish you were to marry Lucius, Lolly. I’d much rather marry Arruns.’
‘By the gods, why? Why would you want to marry him?’
‘He’s kind.’
‘He’s boring.’
‘He’s not,’ Tullia said shyly. ‘He’s really not.’
‘Ugh, next you’ll be telling me how lucky I am.’
Tullia bit her lip. She did think Lolly was lucky and she really did wish she could marry Arruns. Lucius frightened her a little. She couldn’t deny he was the more handsome of the two brothers, but that only made her feel more inappropriate for him. She wasn’t pretty, she felt sure, although it was difficult to tell exactly what she looked like, for her bronze mirror provided a warped reflection only. But no one ever said she was pretty, not like they did to Lolly. And her mother’s words were still in her head. She knew her mother didn’t like Lucius. Tullia didn’t know what exactly her mother had against him, but she trusted her and if she didn’t approve of the marriages… but then, her father thought the marriages a good idea, and she trusted him too. It was rather confusing.
‘Father didn’t say when.’
‘Mmmm?’ Tullia murmured, bringing her mind back to her sister.
‘I said Father didn’t say when we will marry,’ Lolly repeated.
‘I expect it will be soon.’
‘I wonder if I have time to get Father to change his mind and let me marry Lucius?’ Lolly mused, twirling a loose strand of hair around her finger.
‘You heard what he said,’ Tullia reminded her.
‘Oh, I’m sure I can get around him. Men are stupid like that.’
Tullia winced to hear her sister speak so of their father. Their father wasn’t stupid, and Lolly shouldn’t speak of getting around him as if he were a man with no backbone, as if he were weak. He wasn’t weak, he was kind and loving, and he deserved to be treated better than the way Lolly treated him.
Lolly put her feet on the cushion on Tullia’s lap, banging the stuffing down to get comfortable. Tullia glanced at her sister, lying on the stone bench with her eyes closed, no doubt scheming how to get their father to change his mind about her future husband. Ashamed of herself, Tullia couldn’t help hoping, just a little, that Lolly would succeed.
Servius picked a grape from the bowl on the table and popped it into his mouth. ‘Lolly wants to marry Lucius.’
‘There’s a surprise,’ Tanaquil murmured, easing off her sandal and reaching down to massage her little toe. The leather of her sandal had been rubbing her corn all day and the toe was swollen and red.
‘I wonder… should we say yes?’
Tanaquil groaned. ‘Must you always give in to that daughter of yours?’
‘It’s not giving in,’ Servius protested, sitting down beside her and gently lifting her foot onto his lap. He began to rub the o
ffending foot, his hands passing over the cracked, hard skin and thickened yellow toenails. ‘It may make more sense. I’ve often thought Lucius and Lolly were better suited. Tarquinia thinks so too, although she’d rather not have the marriages at all.’
‘I’m not discussing Tarquinia’s opinions again,’ Tanaquil said flatly. ‘And I have my reasons for choosing which of them will marry one another.’
‘The eldest together, the youngest together. Was that not the reason?’
Tanaquil tutted. ‘Do you really think it’s that simple? What does age matter? They’re all young enough for that not to be a consideration.’
‘What are your reasons then?’
Tanaquil pushed his hands away. ‘Tarquinia is not entirely wrong about Lucius. He is—’
‘A monster?’ Servius suggested with a laugh, thinking of Tarquinia’s favourite word for her eldest nephew.
‘Headstrong,’ Tanaquil said. ‘He has a high opinion of himself, he thinks he’s better than everyone else. Well, in that, I cannot say he is entirely wrong.’
‘You like Lucius, don’t you?’
‘I do.’ She smiled ruefully. ‘Oh, I know he’s had his moments—’
‘That’s putting it mildly.’
‘But he reminds me of his father in so many ways and though he was a handful, he was also...’ she searched for the right word, ‘impressive. I like a doer, Servius, you know that. That’s why I loved you. Arruns is a pleasant young man, but he’s easily led. You’ve seen for yourself how he does whatever Lucius tells him to do. The raid on the village proved that. Do you imagine Arruns would have gone raping and killing if Lucius hadn’t put him up to it? Arruns would make a poor king. The senate would walk all over him, perhaps even get rid of him. But Lucius, ah, now there’s a man they’d have to watch out for.’
‘I’m not dead yet, Tanaquil,’ Servius reminded her.
‘You’re not a god, Servius, you’re not immortal. We have to think of the future.’
‘If I’m not immortal, then you’re nearer to the grave than I am, Tanaquil. You won’t be here to see Lucius become king, so why does it matter to you?’
‘Of course it matters to me,’ she said sharply. ‘It matters what we leave behind us, else why do we bother to have children, why do we bother to build, to educate ourselves? And you’re wrong. I will know of what comes after me. I’ll see all that happens here when I’m in Elysium.’
‘But you won’t be able to change anything,’ Servius pointed out. ‘If you don’t like what you see, for example.’
‘You don’t know that,’ she said, her lips twitching in amusement. ‘I’ve had dreams where my father and mother have come to me and told me what to do when I’ve been unsure. And I’ve woken up and done what they told me and I have changed things. The dead can speak to the living. And what we do today will lead the way for tomorrow and all the tomorrows ahead of us. Do you understand?’
Servius nodded.
‘My reason for wanting Tullia to marry Lucius is that she will be good for him. Her good nature will temper his bad one. She’ll teach him to think before acting. She’ll change him, you’ll see, that’s what women do for their husbands. Can you imagine if Lolly was allowed to marry Lucius? Ye gods, what a mess we shall all be in then. That little madam will bring out the very worst in him.’
‘Lolly’s not that bad,’ Servius protested.
‘She’s your daughter, of course you think that. But I see her with an old woman’s eyes, my boy, and let me tell you, your eldest daughter got all the good Tarquin blood and your youngest all the bad. Arruns will be good for Lolly as Tullia will be good for Lucius. Have I ever put you wrong before?’
‘No, Tanaquil, you haven’t.’
‘No, well, let that be enough for you.’ She put her feet back in his lap. ‘And rub my feet again. I’ll tell you when you can stop.’
11
The rich glow of the sun cast its colour over the fields of barley and embraced the forms of the men and women tending the crop. The estate was thriving. The crop was doing well, thanks to the good weather of the past few months, and most of the livestock had bred successfully, so much so that their enclosures were full of squealing from the young as they played with their siblings, while their mothers grunted in contentment as greedy mouths sucked on their teats.
Lucius squinted against the sun. ‘It almost makes me wish I was a farmer.’
‘Course it does,’ Manius said sardonically. ‘You’d give up Rome to live in the country and worry about the price of grain and how many pigs have been born, not forgetting to sacrifice all the time to Ceres to pray it doesn’t rain too much or too little.’
‘You do it.’
‘Yes, but I’m me,’ Manius prodded his chest with a dirty finger. ‘I’m not the nephew of a king.’
‘Much good it’s done me,’ Lucius muttered, throwing away the stem of barley he’d been fiddling with.
Manius studied his friend for a long moment. ‘What’s the matter?’
‘Nothing.’
‘Something’s wrong. You’re, I don’t know… subdued. And you show up here without telling me you’re coming. Not that you’re not welcome, of course, but you usually let me know.’
Manius waited. He’d known Lucius too long to believe that there wasn’t a good reason for his friend’s visit. Like Cossus, Manius had been one of those boys invited to take lessons with Lucius and Arruns. Unlike Cossus, Manius was the kind of friend Tanaquil had hoped Lucius would make. Manius was clever and interested in his lessons, but he also enjoyed the physical exercises that were a part of all Roman boys’ daily curriculum. He and Lucius would have wrestling matches and fight fair — sometimes he would win, sometimes Lucius — and he would always make a show of including Arruns in their games. He had felt sorry for Arruns, suffering under his brother’s bullying, and knowing he had influence with Lucius, had led him to not be so hard on Arruns, at least not when he was around. He couldn’t stop Lucius’s bullying entirely, he knew, especially when Cossus was with them, and he did his best to distance himself from Lucius’s other best friend. Manius understood perfectly the relationship he had with Lucius; he was the friend Lucius turned to when he wanted to talk. Cossus was the friend Lucius turned to when he was feeling frustrated and needed to break free of his bonds. So, Manius knew it would only take a little prodding for Lucius to tell what was troubling him.
‘I had to get away from Rome,’ Lucius blurted out just when Manius thought he would have to probe some more. ‘The constant disapproval was getting on my nerves.’
‘Disapproval from who?’
‘From Servius,’ Lucius snarled, ‘who else? Ever since those peasants came to Rome to complain about the raid, he’s done nothing but watch me to make sure I don’t misbehave again.’
Manius knew about the raid. Accounts of Lucius’s public dressing-down by Servius had quickly spread around Rome and friends had written to Manius to let him know this latest gossip. Manius had written to Lucius to find out the truth and had not been surprised to learn Cossus had been party to the raid. He had written that Lucius had been in the wrong but softened his admonition with the offer of a stay at his country farm. Lucius had not replied nor taken him up on his offer at the time, and Manius thought the affair must not have been as bad as reported.
‘I thought Servius would have forgotten about that by now,’ he said.
‘Don’t you believe it,’ Lucius laughed bitterly. ‘Of course, he doesn’t come out and say anything, not with Aunt Tarquinia there, but he’s always ready to remind me how much I disappoint him.’
‘He must be the same with Arruns.’
‘Oh, no, not Arruns. He’s a good little boy. It doesn’t matter that Arruns was with us that night and did everything we did. Arruns said he was sorry, so all is forgiven and forgotten as far as Servius is concerned.’
Manius could hear that Lucius was working himself up into one of his tempers and he wasn’t in the mood to deal with one of those. ‘We
ll, you’re out of Rome now,’ he said placatingly. ‘You can forget about him.’
‘I wish I could. But you know what he’s doing back in Rome? Arranging our marriages to his daughters.’
‘You and Arruns? That’s good, though, isn’t it? Wedding the King’s daughters. You couldn’t make a better marriage.’
Lucius made a face at Manius and didn’t answer.
‘Which one are you getting?’ Manius asked.
‘Tullia.’
‘Tullia, eh? Well, she’s all right. You won’t have any trouble with her.’ He laughed. ‘It must have put Lolly’s nose out of joint, though.’
‘Why would it upset Lolly?’
‘You’re not serious?’ Manius frowned. ‘You’ve always been Lolly’s favourite.’
‘Have I?’
‘Oh, don’t pretend you haven’t noticed. You could have had Lolly any time you wanted. All you would have to do is snap your fingers and she would lie naked on your bed with her legs spread for you. But you’re getting Tullia instead. Never mind.’
‘Lolly’s a pain,’ Lucius said. ‘Tullia’s easy.’
‘So, what are you complaining about exactly?’
Lucius shot a sharp look at Manius. ‘All right, I don’t mind marrying Tullia. I’ve got to marry someone and it’s best that it’s her if I’m to be king. I just can’t stand being told by Servius that I’ve got to.’
‘And the gods know you hate to be told what to do.’
‘Doesn’t everyone?’ Lucius snapped.
‘Lucius, these things are always arranged. My parents decided who I would marry. I didn’t argue with them. I was grateful.’
‘You’re telling me I should be grateful to Servius?’ Lucius asked incredulously. ‘Never.’
Manius held up his hands in a gesture of defeat. ‘Will I be invited?’
‘I doubt it. Why? Do you want to be?’
Manius shrugged. ‘Any excuse to go to Rome.’