Drusus trudged up the hill toward Pinna in the hot midday sun. He was covered with as much red dust as she’d ever been with grave soil. Trickles of perspiration carved lines through the grime on his face. His tunic and leather corselet were filthy, his boots dense with dirt. Behind him a detail of similarly stained men followed.
Every four hours a detachment of men would enter the bowels of the earth to mine the tunnel. The pace of the digging had been increased as soon as Furius Camillus had arrived at the main camp. His drive to complete the task energized the sappers despite the grueling schedule. Care was taken not to arouse suspicion. As far as the Veientanes could tell, the Romans were quarrying stone for the reinforcement of the siege lines.
As head decurion, Drusus did not wield a pick or cart away stone. However, as one of the supervising officers, he inspected progress at the end of every shift throughout the day. The rotation of men ensured fresh muscle power and no slacking. Nevertheless, four hours without break in the airless, dark confines took its toll.
Pinna ladled water from a jar into cups, handing them to the men as they passed. She gave one to Drusus who drained it in one swallow.
“I’ll be glad when I don’t have to creep into the belly of the earth. The tufa is soft enough to remove, but we need to shore up the structure as we go. We want to avoid a cave-in. It makes my skin crawl to be deep underground.”
“How much farther is there to dig?”
He wiped sweat from his face, leaving a pale patch on his skin. “The engineers say we should reach the opening of the temple shaft the day after tomorrow as planned.”
She smiled. “General Camillus will be pleased. He wants to attack on the summer solstice. He believes the dawn goddess will bless the assault if launched at daybreak.”
He frowned. “Are you saying the general shares strategy with you?”
“You would be surprised what a woman can learn when tending to a man.”
“You have become very sure of yourself, haven’t you?”
“I don’t plan to betray you, if that’s what you fear.”
Drusus scanned her face. “Yes, I believe you.”
Pinna ladled more water into his cup. She was glad to be free of his malice.
The past few weeks had been thrilling. She’d been delighted to tread in the footsteps of her mother by visiting the sanctuary of Mater Matuta in Satricum. And her Wolf had promised to repair and reconsecrate the temple in Rome. Pinna was overjoyed her divinity would once again be housed in splendor.
All Camillus’s plans were on track. Spurius had drained the floodplains around Lake Albanus. Rome’s sins had been expiated. Latins were jubilant at reclaiming pastures of fertile, silted soil. And her Wolf had soothed their ire by declaring a suitable date for the Votive Games. The Latin Pact was once again being observed. Allied forces had succeeded at both Anxur and Labicum. Garrisons were now established. The gods truly favored Rome.
Having settled matters in the south and east, Camillus had been impatient to assist Scipio and Medullinus. Pinna thought he would leave her behind in Rome; instead he insisted on taking her to Nepete. Under his leadership, the northern armies were trounced, slinking back to their hilltop fortresses. Yet with less than four months remaining in office, he decided to advance no further, satisfied the north now lay exposed. Scipio remained with a small force to maintain control. After Veii fell, Rome would take each city of the Twelve one by one.
Now Camillus was outside Veii, and he still wanted her with him. His newfound authority fed his lust as well as his ambition. She’d been surprised at his appetite, thinking he would be too absorbed with warfare to want her. Instead the prospect of triumphing fueled his desire. He ate heartily, slept little, talked into the night about strategy with his officers, and took her in snatches of time in between. Any other man would have been exhausted. With Camillus, there was untiring fervor and unrelenting hunger, for both victory and her.
Yet Pinna was concerned. She worried that gaining power was changing him. He listened less to others’ opinions and made edicts without consultation. His self-confidence had tipped over into arrogance. No one dared counter him. No one could keep up with him either.
Drusus was pensive as he studied the quarry beyond the river before raising his head to survey the fortress on the cliff. His gaze rested on the palace with its terraced garden. “I’ll finally see her.”
Pinna studied his profile, not responding. She remembered how he’d clutched her in delirium after he was wounded, believing her to be Caecilia.
“Perhaps it would be kinder if I killed her. There is no way I can protect her once she’s in Rome.”
She rested her hand on his forearm. “She bears no love for you, Drusus. And you must do your duty.”
He turned to her. “I’m scared.”
“I don’t believe that. You have faced battle countless times.”
“I don’t speak of death or injury. I fear the emptiness when there is no dream to dream.”
“There was never any substance to that dream. Your love is unrequited.”
His focus returned to the citadel. “At least my hate for Mastarna gives me purpose.”
“Yes, the defixios have succeeded even if your love spell failed. You’ll have your revenge.”
Grimacing, he handed her the cup. “I’m to be deprived of the chance to kill him. General Camillus wants the king to be taken alive.”
Pinna did not want to think too hard about her Wolf’s decision. Strangulation awaited King Mastarna at the victor’s triumph. She decided to change the subject. “You must be proud that Marcus has chosen you to be his second-in-command. It’s a worthy promotion.”
“Yes, but he’s destined to wear the mural crown as the first to set foot in a besieged city.”
She hefted the water jar onto her shoulder, the terra-cotta side hard against her head. She didn’t want to be drawn into Drusus’s jealousies either. “I must go. The general is waiting.”
He resumed his observation of the palace, where the objects of his love and hate resided, both oblivious of the fate awaiting them.
Spurius’s forehead was furrowed as he sat on the backless chair and selected a fig from the plate Pinna offered. “I bring news that Icilius Calvus and his associates are stirring discontent again. They’ve caught the scent of the riches to be reaped from Veii. Now they say every citizen should profit, not just the troops.”
Camillus drummed the fingers of one hand on his desk. “And what do Medullinus and Aemilius say to counter their argument?”
“That customary law should be observed. Everyone’s tax burden will be relieved if the lion’s share is paid to the treasury. Veii’s vast wealth should replenish coffers that are almost depleted.”
“That argument will be howled down,” said Marcus, confident now to add to his superiors’ discussions. “The people’s tribunes will assert, as usual, that the commoners shouldn’t have to rely on the Senate doling out money.”
Pinna offered him a fig. He also ignored her. He’d done so for weeks. She thought his terseness unfair. After all, she’d kept her side of the bargain in healing Drusus.
Genucius cleared his throat. “Are you saying Calvus wants merchants and city idlers to end up with handfuls of gold?”