Vel did not respond, instead walked the length of the table to stand between Karcuna and Caecilia. The princip rose, towering over both king and queen.
“I have said before that it’s time for all Veientane soldiers to marshal under the royal banner,” said the lucumo. “Those remaining men of my clan will join with Tulumnes’s tribe. Karcuna and I will fight as one for Veii, not with our own armies. We will forge a true allegiance when we ride into battle together.”
Karcuna hesitated, then bowed his head. “I’m honored to be given the opportunity to bring the fight to the Romans.” He glanced at Tarchon and back to Mastarna. “My ward, Sethre, is yet to be blooded. I ask that you take him with you as your aide, my lord. It will guarantee there’ll be no temptation on the part of the prince in my absence.”
Tarchon stood, about to object, but Vel’s glare stopped him.
“Very well. Sethre will ride with me to learn the skills of war. He has proved himself to be a talented horseman. Let’s see if he can keep his seat in a battle.”
Tarchon frowned. “Why are you depriving me of the chance to be a warrior again, Father?”
“Because I wish to give you a greater opportunity. You’ll govern Veii in my stead. Lusinies and Feluske will act as your advisers.”
“You trust me to act as regent?” Tarchon was incredulous.
“A man from the House of Mastarna must stand in my place. You’ve proven you can restrain yourself from excesses over the last few months. Now everyone can judge if you have the ability to be a statesman.”
The prince glanced around to Caecilia and grinned before bowing to the king. “I won’t fail you, Father.”
Rising, Caecilia smiled at her husband. She never thought the day would come when he would put such faith in his adopted son. “I will leave you men to your strategy and tactics.”
Mastarna placed his hand on her arm. “Stay.” He addressed the principes. “I expect my wife to sit on the inner council from now on. As queen, she must have a say in all decisions.”
To her relief, the councillors made no protest, not even Karcuna. She swallowed hard, unsure what to say. She’d come so far from the Roman girl who hungered to be privy to the world of men. She’d once thought that, if she had the chance to wield a sword, she might save herself from the fate of wedding an enemy. Now that foe was placing a city into her hands.
TWENTY-SEVEN
Freed of her swaddling clothes, Thia lay on her back with her legs raised, trying to grab her toes. Caecilia sat on cushions on the floor beside her. Semni stood nearby, smiling. Cytheris, too, seemed content as she sat winding thread onto an amber spool.
The winter was mild, the bitter iciness of the past years forgotten. The palace was drafty, though. Caecilia was homesick for their old house, its atrium and garden made cozy by the warmth of family life. At least she’d found a smaller room within the private chambers. She had made it the family haven deep inside the palace.
She bent over and nuzzled Thia’s tummy. Her daughter’s giggles always raised her spirits. But tonight Vel would leave. Dread would again hover on the threshold of her mind. Yet she’d learned to hide heartbreak. Her tears only made their partings more difficult.
With shrill squeals, Larce and Arnth ran into the family quarters, their chase echoing through the chamber. Clad in full armor, Mastarna followed with mock ferocity, striding with enormous steps toward one and then the other, lunging to miss deliberately by inches before sweeping Arnth into his arms. Larce pounced on his back. Tas looked up from the scroll he was reading. He frowned at being distracted from his studies.
From the corner of her eye, Caecilia noticed Arruns propping his master’s shield and sword against the heavy timber doorjamb. He was inscrutable as always. Nevertheless, she knew he was hiding his disappointment the king was not taking him to war.
Noticing his lictor, Mastarna rose, shaking off his two sons, although each one latched onto his legs to hinder his movement. “I will be a little while longer, Arruns. I wish to bid farewell to my family.”
Tas studied his father’s armor and walked across. “Are you leaving us, Apa?”
Vel stroked the boy’s hair. “Yes. I’m going to ask the League of the Twelve for assistance. You must be the man of the family while I’m gone.”
Tas ducked his head away, reluctant as always to be touched. He appeared nervous at being issued with such a responsibility. “But I haven’t grown a beard yet. I can’t be a man.”
Vel glanced at Caecilia, bemused at how his firstborn always interpreted words so literally. She smiled and crouched before her son. “Don’t worry. Tarchon will look after all of us.”
“Come. I have something to give each of you,” Vel said, extracting Arnth and Larce from his legs and depositing them onto the nearest kline. “You, too, Tas.”
Disdainful of his younger brothers, the eldest prince climbed onto the divan next to them, keeping a small space apart, his tawny eyes solemn. The other two boys settled onto the plush mattress, their legs dangling, eyes wide, and shoulders straight, like two fledglings waiting for their mother to feed them.
Vel offered Caecilia his hand. “Ati and Thia also.” Intrigued, the queen lifted the baby into her arms and let him help her sit next to her sons. Larce shuffled on his bottom over to her and kissed Thia’s cheek. The baby grabbed at his nose. Caecilia put her arm around him.
The king beckoned to a servant boy who approached carrying a bronze cista by its handle. Mastarna delved into it, pulling from it three golden amulets.
“For my firstborn, Vel Mastarna Junior.” He looped the necklace over Tas’s head to nestle beside his birth charm.
The boy fingered the tiny carving. “It’s a bull like the boss on your shield.” He pointed to the pendant hanging from his father’s neck. “And your bulla.”
“Yes, the symbol of our House. And Fufluns was known to show himself as such a great beast.”
Larce leaned forward, peering at the other totems in his father’s palm. “What about me?”
“A dolphin for you. It’s sacred to Fufluns, too. After all, we need to journey over sea to reach our ancestors in Acheron.”
Keen for his turn, Arnth grabbed the bulla from his brother’s hand. “I want the dolphin!”
To avoid a squabble, Mastarna prized the talisman away and gave it back to Larce, then handed Arnth the last amulet. “For you, little soldier, I have a leopard. Its lithe grace belies the savagery within.”
Their youngest son showed it to his mother and growled like the beast. Larce eyed it. “It’s like the big cat in your bedchamber in our old house, Apa.”
“The leopard is Fufluns’s companion. It will protect us in the Beyond after we die.”
Caecilia frowned, disturbed at her husband’s choice of presents. Vel had not mentioned worshipping Fufluns to her since she’d expressed her qualms to him. Why then was he granting his sons symbols of the wine god’s protection?
“You once sailed upon the sea, didn’t you, Apa?” said Tas.
“Yes, I was a mercenary for the zilath of Tarchna. I helped him to fight the Syracusans.”