“Sounds like jealousy is talking.”
The haruspex flinched. “I have reasons enough to hate my brother, but it’s not because I covet his position.”
“Yet the king is the high priest of Veii, isn’t he? Godhead, general, and monarch all in one.”
“My brother is far from holy.”
Camillus smiled. “Or maybe he doubted you were. Did he question your powers as a seer?”
The soothsayer pressed his lips into a straight line. “He’s irreligious. And he’s high priest in name only. It was I, Artile, the chief priest of the Great Temple of Uni, who was revered. Servant to our city’s divine guardian. For that you should be grateful. The goddess is unlikely to favor my brother over me.”
“And yet haven’t you also deserted Juno? I think that makes your position precarious, don’t you?”
The Etruscan fell silent, his arrogance wavering. Camillus continued to press him. “Tell me why you hate Mastarna. And why you’re prepared to see your kin and people fall because of your ‘family matter.’”
Artile paused, his gaze moving between the general and Marcus before deciding to give his explanation. “My brother accused me of leading his wife astray. And he forbade me to mentor his adopted son to be a priest.” His deep voice rose in pitch. “That bitch persuaded Prince Tarchon to alienate me.”
Camillus appeared bemused. “You led Aemilia Caeciliana astray? What does that even mean?”
The priest hesitated, fiddling with one of his many rings. “A matter of religious instruction. I discovered that Caecilia is pious albeit misguided. Mastarna didn’t approve when he learned she wanted to convert to Rasennan beliefs.”
Pinna was shocked, her fingers digging into the general’s flesh so he turned to frown at her. She relaxed and continued to stroke his neck. Caecilia was worse than the concubine imagined. She had not only abandoned Rome but forsaken its faith. The woman deserved condemnation.
The general’s voice also revealed his disgust. “She’d already been led astray—by a guilty passion. But now it appears her corruption is absolute.”
Artile glowered. “You’re not the only one who despises her. She’s now caught between Rome and Veii. My people are suspicious of her motives.”
Camillus signaled Pinna to stop her massage and rose. Marcus also stood in deference. The haruspex remained seated. Pinna wondered how the Etruscan could deign to consider himself of equal or higher status to his captor.
With his coiffed, shoulder-length hair, Artile was a far cry from the bedraggled prisoner hauled into the general’s tent after being caught fleeing the battle. Face and lip bruised, he’d been drenched with rain, kohl streaking his face as though he were weeping soot. However, today he was no longer wearing the sheepskin-lined cloak or the peculiar twisted hat she’d learned marked his profession. Nor was he allowed to carry his crooked staff. Camillus insisted the seer be inconspicuous when in sight of Veii. The general did not want Vel Mastarna to know his brother was under Rome’s control should any spies manage to infiltrate the blockade. The priest’s chin was now covered with a beard instead of clean shaven. And he was dressed in the humble tunic worn by leves, although no Roman light infantryman would be soft skinned and pudgy.
Her Wolf was not impressed at Artile’s lack of respect. “Get up! No more wasting time. I want the answer now. It might be imprudent to hand you to Mastarna, but it won’t stop me from putting a collar around your neck and making you my slave.”
Artile knocked his stool over in his haste to stand. “I need to consult Aplu, the god known to you as Apollo,” he stuttered.
Marcus sounded impatient. “General, Rome has already sent a delegation to Delphi to Apollo’s oracle. Our own brother Spurius is one of them. This man is wasting our time. It’s best to trust our ambassadors rather than him.”
“There’s a sanctuary only a short distance away from here, Furius Camillus,” continued Artile. “It’s an oracular place. Aplu dwells there alongside other gods. Let me visit it tomorrow. I’ll be able to make the necessary sacrifices there. You’ll have the solution faster than waiting for the emissaries to return.”
Camillus grabbed the neck of Artile’s tunic. “That’s what you said six weeks ago!”
The priest rushed his reply. “Tomorrow. You’ll have the answer tomorrow. I want to ensure I have not incurred Uni’s wrath. To be sure she understands that I betrayed my city but not her. I must seek Aplu’s guidance.”
Camillus dragged the seer closer so they stood only inches apart. “Are you telling me your qualms have been delaying me, priest?”
“Tomorrow. I promise you. Visit the sanctuary with me. I’ll give sacrifice and read the victim’s liver to determine Aplu’s will.”
Marcus once again interrupted. “General, that sanctuary lies flush by the city wall. It’s dangerous territory even though we’ve secured it with a fort. It might be a trap.”
Artile shook his head. “It will be worth the risk, you’ll see.”
Camillus released the haruspex, who stepped back, rubbing his neck where the tunic had cut into his flesh. “Very well, I’ll chance it. Marcus, send orders to double the guard along that part of the lines. And make arrangements for the excursion.” He sat down again at his desk, rubbing his temple, his headache still present. Pinna placed her hands on his shoulders, knowing he needed her comfort.
The Aemilian saluted, scowling at her before he left. Artile scurried toward the tent flap, halting when he heard the general growl. “This is your last chance, priest.”
He bowed his head. “Aplu will reveal all.”
Camillus watched him depart, shaking his head. “I don’t trust him.”
“Then why do you rely on him, my Wolf?”
“Because his reputation as a prophet is widespread. I can’t discount it. It’s his conscience that is making him reluctant, not his lack of skill.” He tapped his gold ring, a nervous habit.
She nodded toward his fingers. “You are granted more protection if you tap it three times.”
He sat astride, pulling her to stand between his legs, his hands resting on her hips. “You and your superstitions.”
She looped her hands around his neck, lacing her fingers together. She was pleased he hadn’t resumed working.
He reached up and tucked her hair behind her ear. “Would you like to come with me to see this sanctuary?”
“Yes. Yes!”
“Then it shall be so.”
Pinna felt happiness well. To be asked to accompany him on such a trip was extraordinary. Before the Battle of Blood and Hail, they’d been forced to keep their liaison secret. Her position as his concubine was now taken for granted. All the times of sneaking and subterfuge had ended. “My Wolf, why do you want me to go?”
He shrugged his shoulders. “I thought you’d like to see the temple. As a treat. You needn’t come, though, if you’re too frightened.”
“I won’t be frightened. You’ll be with me.”