Call to Juno (Tales of Ancient Rome #3)(113)
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.
In the pitch black, the warmth of his fingers and the scent of sandalwood defined him as much as lamplight.
His breath tickled, his lips soft on the nape of her neck as he spooned against her. “It’s time to wake, Bellatrix. We must be ready before dawn.”
She welcomed the sound of his voice each morning. She would never tire of it; its timbre and cadence had seduced her even before she knew she loved him. She turned and laid her head on his shoulder, her hand resting on the soft, satiny grain of his scar. She did not want to rise. She wanted to forget about duty. All she wanted was to hold him in the hushed darkness, cocooned together.
Danger lay ahead of them today. They risked failing to convince the gods. Both of them needed to lustrate themselves before seeking Uni’s forgiveness. Only then could they exhort the favor of the divine king and queen. Twenty white bulls would be sacrificed to the goddess in her citadel sanctuary in the morning. Twenty black ones to Tinia at his temple in the northern forum in the afternoon. There would be no rationing when it came to seeking heavenly approval. And at noon, her husband would beseech the Veiled Ones to convince Tinia to throw his thunderbolt. And if his plea was heard, Rome would fall.