Call to Juno (Tales of Ancient Rome #3)(141)

The plank and rope hit the side of the hole, then dangled in front of her. She climbed onto the board, clinging to the cable as it jerked upward. She whimpered with pain as Marcus grabbed her under her arms and lifted her onto the floor of the upper prison.

Aghast, he scanned her injuries and deprivation. “Great Mars!”

“Ati, Ati!”

She turned, stunned to see Pinna balancing Thia on her hip. The baby stretched out her arms. Caecilia reached out to take her, but her wrists were restrained by the shackles. She grasped her daughter’s hands, kissing them.

“Remove her fetters!” Marcus growled.

The keeper hesitated. “I got orders . . .”

“She’s going nowhere. Let a mother embrace her child.”

“I’ll get into trouble.”

Marcus drew a purse from the sinus of his toga and handed it to the guard. “This will make it worth your while. I’m paying for your silence, too.”

The jailor drew the hammer from his belt and tapped the bolt to release the cuffs. He disappeared down into the lower level of the Carcer.

Freed of her irons, Caecilia clutched Thia, kissing her. The baby was not revolted by her mother’s stink, burying her face into her neck, but Pinna stood back, gagging at the prison stench. Caecilia was confused. Why was Camillus’s lover being so kind to her? And what had changed her cousin’s contempt into compassion?

“Have you news of my sons?”

“They were never found,” said Marcus.

Caecilia closed her eyes, breathing in Thia’s sweet scent, relieved her boys might yet be alive.

Marcus placed his hand on her shoulder. “You’ve been beaten. Did they . . . ?”

“No. I told them I had the pox. Believing all Etruscan women are whores, they thought it the truth. But tell me, is Tarchon safe?”

“He’s to be spared execution. Artile owns him now.”

She felt nauseous. “Please tell him I love him. Tell him his father would be proud of him. And Lusinies?”

“To be strangled.” Marcus’s voice was clipped as he glanced around. “There’s not much time. I’m not supposed to enter the city until I march in the triumph.”

“And when will that be?”

“Have they not told you? It’s tomorrow.”

Her vision blurred for a moment. Her destiny was hurtling toward her. Thia lifted her head and touched her cheek, garbling to her mother. Caecilia focused again, kissing the babe’s fingers. She turned to Pinna. “You’ll look after my daughter as you promised?”

A troubled look crossed the woman’s face.

Caecilia glanced between her two visitors. “What’s the matter?”

Marcus dragged his fingers through his cowlick. She remembered the anxious gesture. “As patriarch, my father has decreed Thia is to die.”

Her legs buckled. Marcus steadied her. “Don’t worry, Caecilia. Pinna and I aren’t going to let him harm her.”

She was unable to stop quaking. She knew Aemilius loathed her but this was beyond bitterness. “But how?”

“I’ve told him I’ll see to her death after the spectacle. In the meantime, Pinna will take Thia to safety.”

“But he’ll expect to see a body.”

“There will be proof enough to satisfy Father,” said Marcus. “Leave it to us.”

Wary, Caecilia stared at Pinna. “How do I know I can trust you? You’re Camillus’s woman.”

“No longer. I’ve left him.”

Caecilia’s respect for her rose. “Then you are wise.”

Pinna glanced away, and Caecilia guessed there had been heartache in her decision. Then the woman recovered, reaching over to stroke Thia’s curls. “I’ll care for her as my own.”

Caecilia swallowed. It was painful to accept that this woman would be Thia’s new mother. She noticed the Atlenta pendant was tied around the baby’s neck with a short leather thong. Nestled beside it was the bulla Vel had given the baby, the sacred bees. She recalled his brief caress of Thia’s hair at the temple. He did not know it was to be his last. And he’d had no chance to bid his sons good-bye. “Do you still have the golden dice?”

Pinna nodded.

“Don’t lose them. They were her father’s. They brought us together.” Tears pricked her eyes. “For her own protection, never reveal who we were. But please tell her that her parents loved her dearly. And that her father was a great warrior.”

Pinna covered her hand. “I’ll tell her that her mother was courageous, too.”

“Her true name is Larthia,” added Caecilia. “Let her grow up knowing she was her grandmother’s namesake.”

The sound of clinking in the stairwell heralded the return of the jailor.

“We must go now, Cilla,” said Marcus. “Kiss your daughter.”

She was startled by the lilting nickname, one used in a time of confidences and brotherly love. She placed her palm against his chest. “Thank you, Marcus. But why are you doing this? I thought you hated me. You’ve repaid the blood debt twice over already.”

He stepped back at the intimate touch, his tone abrupt. “I’m not doing this for you. I do it because I don’t believe in killing children. And you must thank Pinna for us coming here tonight.”