Call to Juno (Tales of Ancient Rome #3)(9)

Caecilia bit the inside of her lip, aware of the princip’s implied criticism of Mastarna. It was never her intention to cause Vel embarrassment. She was also surprised Karcuna sought her opinion. She was used to the men of the Tulumnes family spitting venom at her. “My exhortation was to boost morale. I agree with my husband that Veii must be relieved first.”

Karcuna smiled slyly. “Then you don’t believe Rome should fall as you declared.”

This time it was she who bridled. His words echoed his predecessors’ distrust for her. In the past, the Tulumnes clan asserted she was a traitor because she wouldn’t vow to destroy Rome. She’d often wondered how she could be doubly treasonous when both foes accused her of perfidy.

Having remained quiet throughout the discussion, Tarchon now stood. “I’m sick of Caecilia’s loyalty being questioned.”

“Enough!” Mastarna cut across his son’s defense. “All this talk of conquest is futile. You’re forgetting we need the support of the League of the Twelve Rasennan cities. Without extra forces, Veii won’t succeed. All the Rasenna must rise. And that’s unlikely. Our pleas for support have fallen on deaf ears for a decade now.”

Caecilia leaned across to Vel. “Perhaps it’s time to adjourn to the banquet,” she said loud enough for the others to hear.

He glanced at her, then nodded and rose. “My wife is right. Enough talk of war. Let’s enjoy the feast.”

The councillors bowed and headed toward the door, but Tarchon called out unexpectedly, “Lord Karcuna, could you stay behind?”

The tall man turned, a look of surprise on his face.

“What’s this about, Tarchon?” Mastarna growled.

“I wish to make a formal application to become Sethre Kurvenas’s mentor. Lord Karcuna is his guardian now King Kurvenas is dead.”

Caecilia took a deep breath, wishing her stepson had not opened himself up for humiliation. This was not the time to make a case to become the lover of the grieving son of the murdered lucumo.

Karcuna stiffened, addressing Mastarna instead of the prince. “King Kurvenas didn’t approve of Sethre becoming the beloved of your adopted son. I must honor his wishes as a father.”

Caecilia thought Mastarna would concur. Instead, to her surprise, he gave his son his support. “I believe Prince Tarchon’s desire to foster links between our Houses has merit.”

The councillor cocked his head to the side, his tone less than deferential. “It’s enough that I bend my knee to you, my lord. I don’t think my young cousin need be tainted by Tarchon’s reputation.”

“Oh, and what would that be?”

Karcuna’s eyes traveled along Tarchon’s figure, treating him as though he was some specimen who could neither speak nor feel. “Why hasn’t he married? Where are his children? He’s a soft one. I can’t risk Sethre’s reputation.”

Mastarna stood. “We’ve made gains here tonight, Karcuna. Don’t lose them by denigrating my son.”

The princip’s cheek twitched. “I merely speak what all know. You were about to shun him yourself when Lord Artile took him as his beloved. And Tarchon is far from eligible to act as a mentor. He fails to meet the required standards. He’s only thirty. He’s never held high office. He isn’t married. His war record is patchy. And there’s no guarantee he would relinquish his role when the boy has grown a beard.”

Caecilia’s winced to hear Tarchon’s shortcomings so brutally listed.

Mastarna tensed beside her at the litany.

Tarchon descended the dais to stand opposite the princip, hands on his hips. “I’m a prince of Veii, and I sit on the king’s council. Isn’t that status enough?” He placed his hand on his thigh. “And beneath these robes my leg has only just healed from the wound I suffered in the Battle of Blood and Hail. No man has ever questioned my courage.”

Karcuna stepped back, running a hand through his hair. He continued to eye Tarchon, unable to control a spasm in his cheek. “Sethre is not fifteen years old as is the usual age for a pupil. He is nineteen.”

“I understand Sethre will cease to be my pupil when required,” Tarchon added.

The councillor continued to study him, then nodded. “I will think on it, then. But in the meantime you must stay away from my ward.”

Tarchon was respectful instead of defiant. “I’ll accept any terms you set, Lord Karcuna. I’m grateful to be considered.” He cast a look over his shoulder to Caecilia, wanting her to share his success. She smiled at him although she was worried. She knew him too well. It would be hard for him to surrender Sethre when the boy reached full manhood. He was in love with the youth.

Mastarna raised his hand, signaling the end of the matter. “I’m hungry. Let’s eat.” He placed Caecilia’s hand on his forearm to escort her from the chamber.

Lord Karcuna bowed, waiting for the king and queen to walk ahead of him. He deferred to the prince, who followed immediately after the royal couple.

“You surprise me, Vel,” whispered Caecilia. “Defending him like that. I’m pleased.”

His voice was gruff. “Karcuna’s concerns are valid, but I will not have him thinking I condone one of my family being slandered.”

She squeezed his forearm. “But you’ll support Tarchon in this, won’t you? It might just be the making of him.”