Call to Juno (Tales of Ancient Rome #3)(14)
Semni crept forward, hovering at the doorway to peep inside the throne room. Garlands of ribbons adorned the walls of the great hall with its high checkered ceiling. And there was an enormous bronze-clad table laden with linen books piled between two candelabras.
The last petitioner had been seen. The high councillors rose from their ivory stools and headed toward the door. Lord Karcuna strode ahead while Lords Lusinies and Feluske sauntered in easy conversation.
Semni ducked back behind the doorjamb to let them pass. A slave followed them, carrying the water clock used to time the duration a petitioner could speak. He regarded her in puzzlement, curious as to why a wet nurse had strayed into such surroundings. To her relief, there were no other lictors present. She did not want the palace abuzz with gossip about the pardon she was asking for today.
Arruns stood next to the dais where the monarchs were seated on golden thrones, their feet resting on lavishly padded footstools. Prince Tarchon stood beside them. Queen Caecilia chatted with Cytheris.
Spying Semni, Arruns beckoned to her, his mien grim. She steeled herself, tucking her thick, wavy hair behind her ears, and smoothed her hands along her chiton again.
The hall was cold compared to the smaller antechamber. Only a few of the braziers were lit. King Mastarna did not waste fuel when his people shivered for lack of firewood.
Semni kneeled in front of the podium, but it was not until Arruns knelt beside her that the royal couple noticed there were two more supplicants.
The lucumo’s brow creased. “What’s this?”
Semni gripped Arruns’s hand. She was surprised his palm was as slippery as hers. His apprehension only fueled her own. He always seemed immune to fear. She gulped, doubting she would be able to speak other than in a hoarse whisper. Luckily, he spoke first.
“I seek to marry Semni, my lord. And to claim her son, Nerie, as my own.”
“You seek a wife, Arruns?” Lord Mastarna’s attention swung to Semni. “And a family? I never thought to see you pursue such responsibilities.” Then he chuckled. “It seems you found a pretty benefit when I left you behind while I was on campaign. I hope you’re not going to grow soft now you’ll always have a warm bed to share.”
Semni felt Arruns tense at the king’s jest. She knew how much he resented being denied the chance to accompany his master to war.
Lady Caecilia smiled at her husband. “I think you can let them stand now.” Her smile broadened as she addressed the couple. “This is wonderful news. But you are both freed; you don’t need the king’s permission to wed.”
Arruns squeezed Semni’s hand. His grip was powerful. She doubted he meant to hurt her. “Semni has something to confess to you before I can marry her.”
Lord Mastarna gestured the applicants to stand. “What is this revelation?”
Semni’s knees buckled a little as she rose. Arruns steadied her. This time the pressure of the Phoenician’s grip was bearable, but she could sense his anxiety hadn’t lessened. She bowed her head. “My lord and lady, I seek forgiveness. For I said nothing when Aricia took Master Tas to see Lord Artile.”
Caecilia frowned. “But you stopped her absconding with our son. I’ll always be grateful you saved him. Tas would be in Velzna with the haruspex if not for you.”
Perspiration pricked Semni’s scalp. She concentrated on addressing her mistress, but she felt the king’s gaze boring into her. “No, I mean before the day of the Battle of Blood and Hail. I knew Aricia was taking Tas to see his uncle for many months through a secret passageway to the Great Temple. I didn’t help her, but I did nothing to stop her.” She let go of Arruns’s hand, falling to her knees again. “I did wrong in not telling you. Please forgive me.”
Semni heard Cytheris gasp. The queen’s face paled, shock in her round hazel eyes.
Lord Mastarna stood and roared. “Forgive you! My priestly brother tried to turn our son against us. Filled his head with dreams of being a great seer. Our seven-year-old son could have been lost to us forever—both in mind and in body.”
Semni cringed. The king’s mellifluous voice was harsh with rage.
Lady Caecilia gripped the armrests of her chair, her knuckles white. “Why Semni? Why?”
“When Aricia was your sons’ nursemaid, she saved me from destitution by bringing me to the House of Mastarna. My husband had divorced me because I’d borne a bastard child. My family had shunned me. She found me starving near the Great Temple on a night when she’d brought Tas through the tunnel from your house. She was kind to me, so I felt obliged to keep her secret. And then, after a time, I was trapped by my own silence. It was too late to speak out without being punished. I didn’t want to be cast out again to be homeless. I didn’t want Nerie to starve.” She steepled her fingers. “I was foolish and selfish, then I realized my mistake. So I stopped her taking Tas. Please, please, forgive me.”
Lady Caecilia’s voice was full of hurt. Semni had heard the tone before, on the day the princip realized Aricia had betrayed her, the slave she’d freed and protected since the maid was tiny.
“It was I who was kind to you. I heard Aricia’s plea to grant you succor. I gave you a job and clothes and food and shelter. And then you repaid me with treachery? Your duty was to Lord Mastarna. To me. To our House. Not to the scheming nursemaid!”
Semni’s face burned with shame. “And I’m loyal to you. I’ll be loyal to you forever.”