Tarchon leaned forward. “Father, surely there’s no harm in seeking a celestial guarantee.”
The king’s gaze traversed between queen, prince, and priestess. “Very well, let’s show our enemy that our pantheon is greater than theirs. I will honor Queen Uni. I will placate her. And then, tomorrow, I will beseech the Veiled Ones to convince Tinia.”
Caecilia squeezed his hand in gratitude. Her relief at his acquiescence was tempered with apprehension, though. So much was at stake. Vel would need to be his most persuasive to achieve their desire to destroy their greatest foe.
FIFTY-ONE
Pinna, Outside Veii, Summer, 396 BC
The ram, boar, and bull were garlanded with laurel, a sign divine Mars would bring peace through war. The truculent beasts were tamed by potions, their horns and tusks proving no danger. Having made the circuit of the camp’s perimeter, Artile led the sacrificial beasts through the gate to the ritual space next to the general’s headquarters.
To the west, the sun was sinking, a great half circle of orange-purple clouds cushioning its fall. Tomorrow the solstice would usher in the narrowing of days—and the demise of a people.
A warm breeze played on Pinna’s skin, offering no relief from a day of heat and humidity. She watched the ceremony from in front of the command tent, brazen in her witness of blood sacrifice.
Holding his curved staff, Artile’s kohl-rimmed eyes were trancelike, the pupils dilated. His teeth were flecked with shreds of the bay leaves he was chewing. His serenity was unnerving, his prophetic talent emanating from him, a prince among priests.
The bull was led forward, its horns gripped by two soldiers. Pinna thought it sad to see such an animal made drunken but knew that, should it bellow and try to break free, it would be an ill omen. Nearby, the boar grunted, but the ram was silent.
The priest was practiced in holy slaughter. Calling for Apollo to assist him, he sprinkled flour and wine over the beast’s horns and head. His hammer blow struck the skull squarely. The bull crumpled onto its knees, stunned and helpless. The animal was then hefted onto the killing table by soldiers. Artile slit its throat with the sacrificial knife. Blood gushed into the runnels, draining into the sacred pit below. Then the haruspex carved the victim’s belly open. The reek of the entrails assaulted Pinna’s nostrils as they slithered in a sinuous tangle onto the altar. Hands and sleeves bloodied, the haruspex placed the liver in a patera dish and began his inspection.
Camillus and his officers and centurions clustered around Artile. He took his time, turning the dark, viscous organ over and over in his hands. Anticipation deepened. Then he raised his head and smiled at the general. “The veins are thickest in the quadrant where Queen Uni resides. It’s a sign of greatest good fortune.”
Camillus peered at the liver. “I thought an imperfection was a bad portent.”
“The surface reflects the sixteen sectors of the heavens where each deity is located. It’s not a simple case of blood clots and deformities.”
“You say Uni favors Rome’s cause?”
“Yes. The protectress of Veii must be angry with her people. I suggest you call to her. She may desert Veii if your case is persuasive. After all, Rome has righted its transgressions and is now purified.”
Camillus was incredulous. “You suggest I perform an evocatio?” He scanned the citadel on the precipice beyond. The pink light of twilight bathed the Great Temple. Pinna thought it inconceivable that tomorrow she would stand next to it. Yet could her Wolf convince the goddess to leave such splendor? To deny succor to the people who had long revered her above all others?
“Tomorrow there will be nothing to hold her,” said Artile. “So woo her to transfer her power and influence from the weak to the strong. Why would she stay in Veii when it is Rome who will rule supreme? If she unites with her incarnation as Juno there, she will be all powerful.”
Once again, the dictator surveyed the temple in the fading light of day. Shadows were creeping across the edifice, a grim foreboding of doom. “I’ll offer to build her a fine house if she heeds the call. Rome will also worship her as a queen. Juno Regina. Holy and mighty.”
Pinna scanned the assembled officers. Genucius appeared pensive as he considered the enormity of the act. Marcus seemed stunned. Farther back, she caught sight of Drusus among the decurions. He was smiling.
Artile pointed to the bull. “Don’t forget to thank Apollo, Furius Camillus. The god of prophecy also must be acknowledged.”
Camillus stood square on to the Great Temple. He raised his arms, his voice loud and bold. “Pythian Apollo, inspired by your holy breath, I go forward to the destruction of Veii, and I vow to you one-tenth part of the spoils. Queen Uni, I pray that you might leave the city where you now dwell. Forsake the Veientanes who have angered you. And in the wake of our victory, I ask that you follow me to Rome where I vow to build you a temple worthy of your greatness as Juno Regina.”
There was no divine response. No rumble of thunder or flash of lightning. The earth did not tremble or the wind rise in force. The plea winged its way across the valley as the sun sank, plunging the city of Veii into darkness.
Camillus lowered his arms and closed his eyes, meditating for a moment, as though saying a personal prayer to also canvas divine favor. When he opened his eyes, they were fervid. “Commanders of the cavalry and infantry! Howsoever many of you are present to see this favorable omen, carry forth this message. The goddess of Veii has been called to abandon its walls. And I will ensure both Wolf and Boar Legions will share the spoils. Victory will be ours!”
Genucius’s face split into a grin, but Marcus frowned at Camillus’s announcement. Yet Pinna was pleased her Wolf had granted her wish to reward his warriors without waiting for the Senate’s advice.
She gazed at the citadel. The moon was rising, and the star of Venus twinkled in the encroaching blue of the evening. On the arx, the lights of braziers and torches now sprinkled the darkness. Suddenly she was overcome with melancholy to think the people within were unaware their most famous haruspex had foretold their doom. Worse still, their protectoress had been wooed to perform the most terrible of betrayals. For Uni may even now be casting her eyes toward Rome, seduced by promises of a new home and greater reverence and power.
She shivered, thinking of how Marcus’s soldiers would creep through the tunnel to undermine the impregnable fortress at dawn. Rapine and slaughter awaited. A destruction wrought by the man she loved.
FIFTY-TWO
Caecilia, Veii, Summer, 396 BC
Caecilia woke to the touch of Vel’s hand resting on her bare hip. Roused from dreamless slumber, there was a fraction of confusion when traveling to the conscious world.