“He might be in the stables.”
Hathli placed her hand on Semni’s arm. “You’ll be swept along in the crush of those trying to flee outside. The Romans may already be in the side streets.”
“But they’ll find us in this cellar if they look hard enough!” said Perca.
Indecision paralyzed Semni at the thought of leaving Nerie. And yet they were trapped if she didn’t find Arruns. She surveyed the stricken faces of the three boys. “Ssh, Perca, you’re scaring the children. And Arruns will be trying to reach us, too. I know him.” She kissed Nerie, prizing his fingers away to hand him to Hathli.
Semni headed to the corridor to the service lane. Servants were crowded in the warren. The enemy was starting to infiltrate the inner bowels of the palace. If she did not locate Arruns fast, she would be cut off from the children.
When she reached the exit, she stood to the side to let the crush of fugitives spew into the street. She smelled smoke. Curls of it spiraled into the air. The shrieking in the palace was nothing compared to the frenzied screams outside. She glanced down the road to the forum. She didn’t think her heart could beat any harder or faster. It hurt to breathe. The square was teeming with Roman hoplites.
She turned the opposite way to the stables. She could hear the horses whinnying in alarm. Two grooms rushed past her.
A hand gripped her shoulder. She jumped in fright, then closed her eyes, expecting the slice of a blade or to be pushed to the ground and raped. Instead she heard Arruns’s urgent voice as he pulled her around and hugged her. “Thank the gods!”
Before she could reply, he yanked her into the stable and closed the doors. “Where are Nerie and the princes?”
“They’re hiding in the pithoi cellar. With Perca and Hathli.”
He glanced in the direction of the temple. “The king and queen . . . the sanctuary must be overrun by now.”
“It’s your family who must come first. And the princes.”
“Don’t you think I’ve wanted to search for you? I couldn’t make any headway through the service door with all those people blocking it.”
A fresh wave of screaming distracted them. Semni peered through the crack between the stable doors. Romans were disgorging from the service exit, hacking at the Veientanes choking the street. A woman screamed over and over. Each shriek higher in pitch, jarring Semni’s nerves. She cowered beside Arruns. “What are we going to do? How are we going to get back to Nerie?”
Arruns rose. “The delivery chute. We can reach it through the yard.”
He flung open the stable doors, then ran back along the stalls, unlatching each gate and standing back to allow the panicked horses to escape. Then he held Semni close, protecting her from being trampled as he let the animals gallop into the lane to add to the mayhem. “They’ll be a distraction as we cross the yard.”
Her fear enabled her to keep pace with him as they raced to the chute in the palace wall. Semni peered into the service area below. She could hear Roman voices talking to each other, then moving off. “They’re searching the storerooms!”
Arruns drew his dagger from his sheath. “We’ve surprise on our side. Follow me.” He ducked his head as he crouched and ran down the ramp. Semni scurried down the incline, too.
“Stay close,” he whispered. “Keep your back to the wall until you get a chance to run to the cellar.”
They edged into the corridor. Semni gasped when she saw a Roman striding toward them. He halted in surprise. Arruns attacked before the soldier could raise his sword, thumping into him and knocking him to the ground. Then he drove his dagger into the man’s gullet. Blood spouted from the sliced artery. Semni shuddered when she felt the warmth of the fluid hit her arm. The speed of the attack was as shocking as the expertise of her husband at killing. Arruns’s face was spattered, but he remained impassive, flicking the blood away from his eyes. He gestured her to continue. She took a deep breath and forced herself onward, almost treading on his heels in her efforts to remain near him.
They crept closer to the Medusa chamber. With the prospect of a Roman looming at any time, the distance seemed miles. Suddenly, Semni heard laughter coming from one of the wine cellars. The door had been wrenched open, the lock broken. Three soldiers emerged. Arruns pulled her into one of the smaller storerooms. She held her breath as the enemy passed inches from them.
Arruns signaled her to follow him again. Holding her breath, she dashed past the wine cellar. There were no shouts. No footsteps running after her.
The pithoi chamber was only two more rooms away. Semni felt the urge to rush ahead, but as they neared it she noticed the door was open. Arruns halted and placed his hand across her mouth, warning her not to cry out. Her stomach twisted. For this time it was not Latin voices she heard but grunting, brutal and primal, and a girl sobbing “no, no, no.”
FIFTY-SIX
Caecilia, Veii, Summer, 396 BC
“Get up, Caecilia.”
Marcus had returned from his inspection of the sanctuary.
Thia clutched her mother and whimpered, hiding her face. Cytheris tightened her grip on her mistress’s arm. Caecilia glared at him. “I won’t leave Vel.”
“Do as I say!”
His demand reminded her what it was to be a Roman woman. A spurt of anger shot through her. “What are you going to do, Marcus? Drag me away like Drusus did? It will be easy. I’m weak.”
“Shut up. Do you think you can protect him forever? There are more than Drusus who want your husband to be a tormented ghost.”
She swallowed, realizing her defense of Vel had been in vain. The dictator may have been deprived of the chance to execute a vanquished king, but he still had an opportunity to degrade his foe.
“Please, don’t let Camillus desecrate his body! He must be cremated with due honor.”
Marcus reached down and grasped her by her upper arms, forcing her to stand. Then he released her. She staggered a little, unsure whether he would reinforce his order with a slap.
“I’m not going to let him be decapitated.”
She swayed, faint headed, unsure if she’d heard him correctly. “You won’t?”
“I believe in paying a debt.” He spat out the words.
He made no sense. “Debt?”
“You know what I’m talking about. The blood debt I owe Mastarna.”
“I don’t understand.”
“Didn’t he tell you? In return for sparing my life at Nepete, I’m obliged to grant you a favor. I doubt there’s much I can do for you other than save Mastarna from mutilation.”
She was astonished. The husband who’d chided her for keeping secrets had kept one from her. Gratitude surged through her that Vel would try to protect her. “But how can you prevent his body being defiled?”
“Burn him in one of the fire pits outside. It seems your people were preparing for a monumental sacrifice today.”