Call to Juno (Tales of Ancient Rome #3)(105)

“By tunneling under them.”

Camillus grunted in frustration. “Is that all? I considered such a tactic years ago. The tufa blocks are three feet thick, and the ramparts are compacted with eleven feet of earth. What you say is worthless! I should send you back to your brother!”

Artile raised his black-tipped fingers in supplication. “No! What I say is possible. Remember the channel I showed you near the sanctuary?”

“A drain? Am I going to conquer Veii by using a sewer?”

Artile glanced between both dictator and tribune. “In a way, yes. That conduit is just one of many underground cuniculi around Veii. As I’ve mentioned before, there are huge galleries extending for miles beneath the surface that form a complex network of pipes, locks, and dams. More importantly, some caves provide direct access to the city drainage system on the plateau. How do you think Veientane spies managed to gain access to the city during the siege?”

Intrigued, Marcus edged forward on his seat. Camillus no longer glowered. “But my troops would need to wade waist deep through water to traverse such passages.”

“If you wait until summer, the water courses dry up and the levels lessen. A little mud should not deter a Roman soldier.” Confidence growing, Artile eased back in his chair and crossed his legs. “What’s more, I know a way to access the citadel.”

Camillus leaned forward, a hand on each knee. “How so?”

The haruspex smoothed his eyebrow, his caginess returning. “First I ask that you reward me for revealing the secret.”

The general cocked his head to the side, voice caustic. “And what boon do you wish granted, priest?”

“To allow me to claim two slaves. My nephew, Vel Mastarna Junior—”

“Mastarna’s firstborn? He’s a child. What do you want with him?”

“Tas has the makings of a great seer. I wish to mentor him.”

Marcus felt uneasy, conscious of how the priest had tainted Tarchon. He doubted the uncle would restrict himself to merely being the little boy’s teacher. Camillus frowned but motioned the haruspex to continue.

“And I want Tarchon Mastarna, too.”

The dictator’s upper lip curled. “You’ll need servants to hold him down if you want the prince to be your bedmate again.”

“I want to make him suffer. To remind him every day that he has a master and he chose wrongly to show devotion to Mastarna and his bitch. And for loving that boy.”

“I’m not interested in your petty vengeance,” growled Camillus. “And you’re in no position to make demands. Tell me how I can breach the citadel.”

The Etruscan hesitated. Marcus wondered if he was digesting his last scruple. Then Artile bent his head toward the general, his tone conspiratorial. “There’s a shaft that leads up into the Great Temple from the base of the citadel. I escaped through it on the day of the Battle of Blood and Hail.”

Camillus’s eyes narrowed. “And how do we reach such a passage?”

“By digging a sap to connect to its opening. You’ll need to occupy the quarry in the valley again. From there you can tunnel through to the overhang that hides the shaft entrance. The Veientanes won’t think it unusual that Romans are once again wielding picks to cut stone to line trenches.”

Camillus tapped his ring, absorbing the intelligence. “Our main camp overlooks the pit. It will be amusing to think we’re undermining them beneath their noses.”

Marcus’s own excitement grew. “Once we’ve gained entry to the arx, our soldiers can open the main gates of the city.”

The general thumped his knee. “While our other troops move through the cuniculi on the plateau!”

The priest was watching them, once again sure of himself. His smugness made Marcus want to strike him. This man had just condemned his own people to death, and he was smiling. Artile did not have the strength to wield a weapon but he was deadly.

Camillus stood and gripped the soothsayer’s shoulder to force him to remain seated. “Why didn’t you disclose this to me before?”

Artile winced at the pressure. “Forgive me, Furius Camillus. I didn’t think it necessary to use the tunnels. I believed Rome would starve Veii into submission.”

“Or maybe you were reluctant to see your former lover killed. Is that why you have held out on me all this time?”

The seer tried to rise, but the dictator continued to pin him to his chair.

“It’s true. I did not wish Tarchon harmed. But now it’s clear he’s been beguiled. I want him to truly regret rejecting me.”

Camillus squeezed Artile’s shoulder even harder. He gasped in pain.

“You’re not to keep anything from me again, do you understand?”

The Etruscan nodded. “You have my word.”

The general released him, then patted him on the back. “You’ve done well. And if what you say is true, I’ll reward you.”

The haruspex massaged his shoulder. There was a mix of pain and anticipation in his dark eyes. “So you will give me both princes?”

The creases on Camillus’s cheeks deepened with his smile. “All our dreams will be realized once Veii’s citadel is mine.”

Marcus stared at both men, feeling a twinge of conscience that subterfuge, not daring, would bring the Veientanes to their knees. “Do you feel no qualms, Artile?” the tribune asked.