Call to Juno (Tales of Ancient Rome #3)(146)
“I disowned you long ago.”
“Yet you’ve enjoyed my inheritance ever since. My father was a wealthy man.”
Her scorn dented his composure. “And he’d be ashamed of you. Today you’ll get what you deserve. You sullied both the Caecilian and Aemilian names. Your lust has brought catastrophe upon you and all whom you loved. You should have heeded the lessons learned as a child. Divine law preserves Rome. Even Veii’s goddess has confirmed that. At least go to your death showing contrition for your treachery.”
Caecilia scanned the self-righteous faces in front of her. Aemilius’s taunt about her father stung but she had no remorse. She would not apologize. “It’s the priest who is the traitor here. The blood of a multitude is on his hands. And you would be fools to trust him.”
Artile smiled, then said in Etruscan, “On the contrary, the deaths of thousands are on your head. You defied Nortia. Rome was always your destiny. You angered Uni and so caused Veii’s destruction. I will enjoy watching you die, Sister.”
His gibe struck home but she pushed it away. “Chains will not make Tarchon love you, Artile. All you’ll ever know is his hatred. And you can never have Tas. He is safe. Remember that when I haunt you.”
Camillus held up his hand, impatient with the exchange in a foreign tongue. “Enough,” he barked. “Aemilia Caeciliana, I sentence you to death for sedition.” He turned to Marcus. “Take her to the cliff and throw her off.”
A pain shot through her chest as she stared at the tribune. “You? You are to kill me?”
“I’ve been so commanded,” he rasped. His soft brown eyes were those of the youth of the past.
“Marcus Aemilius shouldn’t have shown mercy to your husband,” said Camillus. “And so he’ll now show his loyalty to me and Rome”—he gestured to Aemilius—“and to his father, family, and clan.”
Suddenly Caecilia did feel regret. After all he’d done, her cousin did not deserve this. It should’ve been one of the practiced guards who did the deed.
Camillus motioned to Aemilius and Artile. “Let members of both Roman and Etruscan families witness her death.”
The dictator walked down the steps into the precinct followed by the priest and senator. The rest of the nobles remained on the portico. In the sanctuary, people began chanting Caecilia’s name.
Quaking, she realized her life was now measured by the number of steps she’d take to the edge. Marcus fell in beside her as they followed Camillus.
The air was thick with incense from huge cauldrons in the precinct. It would be a scent that clung to her as she died. As they exited through the gates of the sanctuary, they passed the flawless, white cows that were tethered to a post next to the altar.
The Forum stretched before her. The Comitium, Temple of Vesta, and Curia surrounded by the seven hills. Viewing them made her realize how small Rome was compared to the world she’d lived in for a decade. The memory of her first sight of Veii as she sat in the hooped cart on the Via Veientana flashed into her mind. The majestic city on the plateau rising above the wooded ravines.
Camillus crossed his arms. “Take her to the edge, Marcus. You’ll be absolved of murder. You act for the State.”
Aemilius placed his hand on his son’s shoulder. “This is for the honor of our family. Justice is required.”
Artile said nothing, too busy studying the sky. The clouds were darkening as though sympathetic to Caecilia’s plight. They hovered blackest over the Senate House.
Marcus clasped her arm. “Come, Cilla.”
Again, the soft diminutive. “Why didn’t you tell me last night you were to be my killer?”
He glanced over his shoulder, checking he was out of earshot. “I didn’t have the courage. But I’ll make up for it now. I’m not going to let you become a ghost. You will join the Good Ones, Cilla. I’ll ensure your body is bathed and shrouded. I’ll cremate you. Say funeral rites. Your ashes will be kept in secret. And I’ll give libation to you every year. No one will ever know.”
Her knees buckled. He steadied her. “How? They’ll throw my corpse on the Esquiline to rot. You’ll be punished if caught.”
He grimaced. “Bribery. Penniless cemetery workers can be paid off. I’m determined despite the consequences.”
She clung to him, grateful. “Thank you. But why?”
“Why? Because I love you, Cilla. As does Tarchon. He bid me tell you that. It seems you have been surrounded by love for a long time now. I see now why you chose Veii.”
Caecilia sighed in relief. She hadn’t angered Nortia after all. She now understood the reason the goddess brought her back to Vel. For without defying Fortuna, she would never have found love. Never borne her children. And never been given the chance to live with them forever.
Camillus shouted. “Marcus Aemilius! Do it!”
Her heartbeat quickened. Marcus clasped her arm, his hand trembling. “I’m sorry I am the one to push you.”
A flicker of light caught her attention as a single streak of lightning exploded on the Curia’s roof. A thunderclap boomed. Tiles shattered and were sent flying.
Caecilia glanced back. Camillus was transfixed on the blackened furrow in the Senate House. Artile’s face was ashen. Only one god in Rome had the power to throw a lightning bolt—Jupiter—Tinia. Had Antar delivered Vel’s message?