The Eagle in the Dovecote Read online

  ‘You astonish me, Brutus, you really do,’ Mettius said. ‘You have no reason to love the Tarquins, perhaps less reason than any of us, and yet you would listen to these people who come speaking on the Tarquins’ behalf.’

  ‘The Roman people expelled the Tarquins because of their tyranny. We would be no better than they if we execute these envoys because they represent the Tarquins.’ Brutus waved Mettius aside as two figures appeared in the doorway. ‘Quiet now.’

  ‘We come from King Tarquin,’ the elder of the two men announced and Collatinus heard the tremble in his voice.

  Brutus gestured them to step forward. ‘Say what you have come to say.’

  ‘King Lucius Tarquinius sends his greetings—’

  ‘What is Lucius Tarquinius king of?’ Mettius interrupted. ‘He has no kingdom.’

  The envoy looked bewildered and glanced at his companion for help in making an answer but the companion shook his head, nonplussed.

  ‘Enough,’ Brutus said, scowling at Mettius. To the man, he said, ‘Speak on.’

  Relieved, the man continued. ‘The king asks that his goods and property be restored to his family. They are privately owned goods and property and do not belong to Rome.’

  ‘No, but they were got by the sweat of decent Romans,’ Mettius retorted angrily.

  Brutus put out his hand and grabbed Mettius’s wrist to quiet him. ‘And how is the Tarquins’ property to be transferred to them?’ he said to the envoy. ‘I will not allow them to return to Rome.’

  Collatinus’s eyebrow rose at Brutus’s use of the personal pronoun and involuntarily met Mettius’s angry eye. Mettius’s eyebrows also rose.

  ‘The properties can be sold,’ the man suggested.

  ‘I suppose they can,’ Brutus said, ‘if a buyer can be found.’

  ‘The properties are highly desirable. I am sure finding a buyer will be relatively easy. Perhaps you…’, the envoy gestured at Brutus.

  Brutus’s top lip curled. ‘I have not the taste for luxury my uncle has.’

  The envoy, realising he had blundered, shuffled his feet.

  ‘I suppose the Tarquinii have welcomed the Tarquins,’ Mettius said mockingly.

  ‘We have,’ the man said with a touch of defiance. ‘We remember our friends.’

  ‘You can have him as your king then,’ Mettius laughed, ‘seeing as how you love him so much.’

  The man’s lips tightened. He turned back to Brutus. ‘May we have your decision as to our very reasonable request?’

  ‘We will discuss it and give you our answer tomorrow,’ Brutus said.

  ‘Oh, send these minions packing, Brutus,’ Mettius said, waving his hand at them. ‘Lucius Tarquin has forfeited any goods he had. They are ours now. Why should we give them back?’

  ‘We will discuss it,’ Brutus repeated, silencing Mettius with a stare. ‘Leave us,’ he said to the envoys, ‘and we will send word to you tomorrow. Where will you be?’

  ‘We have your assurance we will not be harmed if we stay in Rome?’ the man asked.

  ‘I have given you safe conduct,’ Brutus said. ‘You will not be harmed.’

  The man nodded and said they would stay at an inn in the southwest corner of the Forum Boarium. He made to bow to Brutus in farewell but then thought better of it, perhaps remembering that Brutus was not a king but a man, as he was. He plucked the sleeve of his companion and the pair of them turned and left the Senate house.

  ‘Why should we not keep the goods?’ Mettius demanded impatiently when they had gone.

  ‘Because we are not thieves,’ Brutus replied, smoothing down the folds of his toga.

  ‘You have far too many scruples, Brutus. What do you think, Collatinus?’

  Collatinus looked at Brutus from beneath lowered lids. He agreed with Mettius; he felt entitled to the Tarquin goods and properties, but he didn’t feel up to an argument he knew he would not win. ‘Brutus knows what he is doing. We must appear better than those we have deposed.’

  Mettius grunted unhappily. ‘I tell you, I know the Tarquins. You give them what they ask for, and they’ll be back, asking for more. They’re never satisfied.’

  ‘They will have what is theirs and nothing more,’ Brutus insisted.

  Mettius moved to stand in front of Brutus. ‘Why are you so keen to give the Tarquins the means by which they can thrive?’

  ‘What would you have me do?’

  ‘Beggar them, that’s what I would have you do. Make them starve, if you can. It’s what they deserve.’

  ‘They will not starve,’ Brutus said, gesturing for him to stand aside. ‘They are being entertained by the Tarquinii.’

  ‘Exactly. And if we give them back their fortune, and they wave it under the noses of the Tarquinii, what do you think the Tarquinii will do, eh? They’ll think there’s more gold to be had in Rome if Tarquin gets his throne back.’

  ‘What do you mean, Mettius?’ Collatinus asked.

  ‘I mean, Collatinus, that the Tarquinii will help Tarquin raise an army to reclaim his throne with all that gold we’re giving him.’

  ‘Brutus,’ Collatinus pleaded, ‘if Mettius is right—’

  ‘It is right they have what is theirs,’ Brutus roared, slamming his hands down on the arms of the chair.

  Mettius grimaced and stepped away. ‘Very well. I know your opinions,’ he nodded at both Brutus and Collatinus. ‘I’ll discuss this with the rest of the Senate and let you know ours. You shouldn’t be surprised if we’re not so eager as you to make the Tarquins rich again.’ He strode out of the Senate house.

  ‘We should listen to him, Brutus,’ Collatinus urged.

  ‘We must stick to our principles, ’ Brutus insisted, ‘else we will be just as corrupt and tyrannous as the Tarquins. And I will have no one able to say that about me.’

  About you? Collatinus thought as Brutus walked out of the Senate house. When in Hades did the death of my wife make this all about you?

  Caecilius stared down at the letter before him, wishing it had not come. He didn’t have an answer for it, and the Tarquinii envoys who had passed the letter on and instructed him to keep it secret, were expecting him to give them one.

  He looked up as he heard footsteps outside his tablinum and hastily covered the letter with some other papers. Too late.

  ‘What are you hiding, Father?’ Caius was hanging off the door frame, his head at an angle, his eyes flicking between Caecilius and the piles of papyrus on the desk.

  ‘Nothing,’ Caecilius said nonchalantly, checking the letter was covered. ‘What are you doing there?’

  Caius’s answer was a shrug. ‘You hid something.’

  ‘No, I didn’t. You shouldn’t contradict me, Caius.’

  He wasn’t believed, Caecilius could see that. His son’s eyes continued to wander between him and the desk. Suddenly, Caius disappeared from the doorway. Caecilius heard his swift footsteps and knew he was running off to tell Volumnia what he had seen. He sighed. There would be no hiding this letter now. Might as well sit here and wait, he decided.

  It was only a matter of minutes before Volumnia arrived, Caius at her heels. ‘Caius said you are hiding something.’ She pointed at the pile. ‘There.’

  ‘You should teach him not to be such a little sneak,’ Caecilius said, casting a hard stare at his son who stared unashamedly back.

  ‘What have you hidden?’ Volumnia asked, ignoring him.

  Caecilius sighed and slid the letter out from between the other papers. ‘It’s a letter, if you must know.’

  ‘From whom?’

  ‘From Prince Titus.’

  ‘How did he manage to get a letter to you?’

  ‘Via envoys the Tarquinii have sent to negotiate with the Senate.’

  Volumnia’s eyes narrowed. ‘Does the Senate know the prince has written to you?‘

  ‘Of course not,’ he snapped, ‘don’t be a fool.’

  She made a face at the insult. ‘What does he want?’

  ‘He’s appeali
ng to me to rally support in the city. Me and some of his other friends, the Vitelliis, the Aquilii...’. He passed the letter to her. ‘Read for yourself.’

  Volumnia quickly scanned the lines, her mouth forming the words she found in the letter. ‘The king intends to re-enter the city under cover of darkness and wants to have an army ready to destroy the Senate,’ she read. ‘Oh, by all the gods, is he mad?’

  ‘I don’t think it’s mad,’ Caecilius said. ‘Dangerous, but not mad.’

  ‘You’re not thinking of going along with this, are you?’

  ‘Why shouldn’t I? Titus is my friend. I owe him.’

  ‘Now, who’s being the fool?’ Volumnia said, sitting down on a stool by the desk.

  ‘Titus would have given me much once he was king.’

  ‘Exactly. Would have,’ Volumnia scoffed. ‘He’s unlikely to ever be king now.’

  ‘You’ve given up very easily, my dear. I never thought you would be for a republic.’

  ‘I’m realistic. Brutus has the whole of Rome with him. The king won’t be able to fight the Senate and the people.’

  ‘The king has the Tarquinii with him. The other tribes may be with him too, for all we know.’

  ‘Really?’ Volumnia narrowed her eyes. ‘Maybe we should ask Menenius’s opinion on this,’ she said thoughtfully, re-reading the letter.

  Caecilius snatched it back. ‘I forbid you to tell Menenius about this letter. In fact, I forbid you to tell anyone.’

  ‘But Menenius is our friend—’

  ‘He’s for the republic. He’s glad the Tarquins are gone.’

  ‘Even so, what are you scared of? Menenius wouldn’t betray you.’

  Caecilius didn’t answer, not having the same faith in his old friend as his wife had.

  ‘Caecilius, I insist you do not answer that letter,’ Volumnia said, rapping the table to get his attention.

  ‘Very well, and what do I do about this one?’ Caecilius slid out another letter from the pile. ‘This letter came not half an hour ago from Lucius Aquilii. He’s hosting a dinner tonight for those he calls ‘friends of the king’. I expect he wants to discuss raising an army. But whatever he wants, he wants me to stand with him and his brother.’ He passed it to Volumnia. She barely glanced at it, and threw it back on the table.

  ‘What will happen if you ignore it?’

  Caecilius shrugged. ‘The Aquilii may come round here to find out why I am silent.’

  ‘We can’t have that,’ Volumnia said. ‘Write back saying you are ill and cannot come.’

  ‘Lie low, you mean, until it’s obvious which is the winning side?’

  ‘It never pays to be hasty,’ Volumnia said impatiently. ‘Do stop all this hand-wringing, Caecilius. Your priority must be to protect yourself and your family. So, do as I say. Send a reply to Lucius Aquilii declining his invitation because you are ill in bed and cannot rise.’

  Caecilius couldn’t deny there was sense in Volumnia’s words and he was past arguing. In fact, he realised it was a relief to be told what to do. He reached for a sheet of papyrus. As he wrote, he jerked his head at Caius. ‘Tell him not to breathe a word of this, Volumnia, to anyone.’

  ‘He’s no telltale.’

  Caecilius laughed. ‘He told on me to you, didn’t he? He can’t keep his mouth shut. But if he speaks about this, we could all be dead, so make it clear to your son that he’s to say nothing of the letters.’

  She wanted to argue with him, Caecilius could see that, but she evidently divined the wisdom in his words for Volumnia pulled Caius onto her lap and held up a warning finger.

  ‘You are not to speak of this to anyone, do you understand?’ she said.

  Caius looked from her to his father and back to Volumnia. ‘No one, Mother?’

  ‘No one at all. Not to the slaves, not to your friends—’

  ‘What about Uncle Menenius?’

  Volumnia glanced at Caecilius. ‘Especially not to Uncle Menenius,’ she said. ‘Promise me.’

  ‘I promise, Mother,’ Caius said.

  ‘There,’ Caecilius said, throwing down his stylus. He rolled up the papyrus and sealed it. ‘It’s done.’ He held it out to Volumnia. ‘Would you like to send it to Lucius Aquilii, my dear?’

  Volumnia took it, her mouth pursing in irritation at his manner. ‘There’s no need to be so sour, Caecilius. It’s for the best.’

  ‘It might be for the best but it’s not very honourable.’

  ‘No, but it is pragmatic, Caecilius. Of course, I would prefer it if the monarchy were still ruling in Rome, but we must face the truth. I just hope the Senate will keep the plebs under control. And who knows, perhaps we will prosper under a republic.’

  ‘And what of honour? Am I to live without it from now on?’

  Volumnia sighed. ‘You have your honour still,’ she said, putting her hand on his briefly. ‘And we must consider what is best for Caius,’ she said, kissing her son’s black hair.

  Caecilius slumped back in his chair. ‘Of course,’ he said, ‘we must all do what is best for Caius.’

  House of the Aquilii

  Vindicius bent low, offering the tray to the last of his master’s visitors to arrive. That made four men who had come to the house in secret, not including his master’s brother, Marcus. The women in the house had been told to keep to their rooms. Something was going on.

  Vindicius wished he could have been among the household slaves who had been instructed to keep to their duties at the rear of the domus. His master, Lucius, had already flung a cushion at his head for spilling some of wine. The gods knew what else his master would do in such a mood and Vindicius would rather be out of the way.

  Marcellus Vitellii and his brother, Manius, had been the first to arrive, and Vindicius knew they both took great delight in tormenting slaves, kicking them when they bent over to send them sprawling, smashing their faces into the cold stone of the floor, or making them undress and parade before their friends, both male and female, pointing out where they were lacking in manhood. Vindicius hated the Vitellii brothers and braced himself for their taunts. But they didn’t seem interested in tormenting slaves this night. They were strangely quiet and yet excited, their fists clenching and unclenching as they rested them on their knees, their eyes flicking continually between each other and the door. Their agitation increased further when Titus and Tiberius Brutus arrived. Vindicius served the wine and then retreated to the corner of the room, standing ramrod straight against the wall.

  ‘Is this all of us?’ Manius Vitellii asked, looking around the small company.

  ‘Who else were you expecting?’ Lucius Aquilii asked.

  ‘I don’t know,’ Manius threw up his hands. ‘Canus Pilatus, Vopiscus Bestia, Caecilius Marcius.’

  ‘Canus and Vopiscus didn’t reply to my letters,’ Lucius said. ‘I’m not surprised, they’ve always been cowards. Caecilius Marcius sent word he is ill in bed and cannot come.’

  ‘If you can believe that,’ his brother, Marcus, sniffed.

  ‘You don’t?’ Titus Brutus asked in a surprised tone.

  ‘I saw him yesterday,’ Marcus shrugged. ‘He looked well enough to me.’

  ‘The coward’s too scared to join us,’ Tiberius Brutus shook his head.

  ‘We don’t know that,’ Lucius said.

  ‘It’s better this way,’ Marcellus Vitellii said decisively. ‘The fewer who know of this, the more certain the success and the greater the glory for us. It will show King Lucius who his true friends are.’

  ‘If he comes back,’ Lucius said.

  ‘When he comes back,’ Marcus insisted. ‘We will be successful, brother. The alternative is abominable.’

  Titus got to his feet. ‘We’re decided then. So, how do we go about restoring the king to his throne?’

  ‘We form our own army. We can get more than two hundred men between us,’ Marcus gestured between himself and Lucius. ‘How many can you each get?’ he asked the others.

  Marcellus and Manius Vitell
ii spoke quietly together and came up with a figure of roughly one hundred and fifty. Titus and Tiberius Brutus surprised them all by claiming they could raise near three hundred men.

  ‘All because of your name?’ Manius asked scornfully.

  ‘It is a worthy name,’ Junius said, his chin rising a little higher.

  ‘It is also the name of the man who started this all, the man everyone thought to be an idiot,’ Manius pointed out. ‘You must have known he was not.’

  Tiberius’s jaw tightened. ‘Do not speak of our father so, Manius Vitellii.’

  Marcellus put a restraining hand on his brother’s arm and glared at him. Manius reluctantly quietened. ‘You claim you can get three hundred men,’ Marcellus said to Tiberius. ‘Are they your men or your father’s? Because if they are your father’s, then I’m sorry to say it but you’re hoping for the moon.’

  ‘They will fight for us once they understand the rightness of our cause,’ Titus Brutus insisted before his brother could answer. ‘Our father is mistaken in his expulsion of the king. He bears an old grudge against the Tarquins. It’s personal and men won’t follow personal grievances.’

  ‘Oh, won’t they?’ Manius laughed bitterly. ‘How very sure you are.’

  ‘Enough, Manius,’ Marcellus barked. ‘Tiberius and Titus will bring as many men as they can muster and so, we will have our army. Moving on, we need to work out a strategy. Who will be our allies?’

  ‘The Tarquins have been given shelter by the Tarquinii, who have promised aid,’ Titus said. ‘They want King Lucius back on the throne because they have too many trade agreements that may suffer otherwise. They will be our chief allies. And the Tarquinii army will be formidable.’

  Marcus nodded. ‘We can attack the Senate on two fronts. The Tarquinii from outside Rome, us from within it.’

  Tiberius held out his hand. ‘Wait a moment, Marcus. You speak of attack. I thought our army was just to be a threat to the Senate. We wouldn’t actually use it.’

  ‘Why gather an army you don’t intend to use?’ Marcus asked.

  ‘To be a show of force,’ Tiberius said vehemently. ‘I am not so ready as you to shed the blood of my fellow Romans.’