The Lion's Brood
IV.
THE HOUSE OF THE NINII CELERES.
The rustle of garments aroused Marcia from a sleep wherein had beenmore of bitter revery than of rest; and, glancing up, she saw, at theentrance of her apartment, two girls, evidently slaves. They hadknelt, with arms crossed upon their breasts and downcast eyes.
"Will my mistress be pleased to place herself in the hands of herservants, that she may receive refreshment and whatsoever she desires?"
The girl's voice was soft and musical. Marcia rose, and, with a slightinclination of the head, indicated her acquiescence; then she followedher new guides through new halls and rooms, around and through thecolonnade, to a part of the house beyond the garden. Here were theapartments of the bath, and, under the skilful hands of her attendants,she felt the fatigue and blights of the journey passing from her. Nosuch artists of luxury were known at Rome as were these slave women ofCapua; new refinements were revealed at every step--refinements thatseemed to culminate when the hair-dresser began her work. First camethe anointing with the richest odours deftly combined from a dozenvials of ivory or fine glass; then the crimping and curling with hotirons, the touch of which served also, as the attendant explained, toconsume whatever coarseness clung to the perfumes and to bring outtheir finest and most delicate effects. Meanwhile the Roman simplicityof Marcia's wardrobe and jewel-case had been thoroughly explored, notwithout some scornful side glances on the part of the Capuan women, andshe who was in charge of the tiring announced their contents to bequite inadequate to dress a lady for a banquet of state--anannouncement which brought more smiles than blushes to Marcia's face.Still, despite her half-veiled contempt, there was nothing to do butresign herself absolutely into the hands of such competent authorities,and, besides, she could not say that she found the process altogetherdispleasing.
The elaborate structure of curls and frizzes had now been confined inplace by a net of fine gold thread, in which were set, at regularintervals, pearls remarkable for their colour and perfect sphericalform; then a dozen long pins with carved gold heads were passed throughthe net, and above and around all was bound a diadem of thin-beatengold ornamented with intricate open-work tracery. Finally, thehairdresser, having bade Marcia behold herself in the polished silvermirror which she held up, retired with an expression of sereneself-approbation upon her face, and gave way to other attendants.
One of these bound the smallest of jewelled sandals upon feet that weretoo small, even for them; another produced a long palla or sleevelesstunic of apple tint ornamented with feather patterns, and fastened itwith amethyst brooches at the shoulders. Last, the head tirewomanherself came to perform what was, after the hair-dressing, the mostdelicate of all these operations--the adjustment of the cyclas orover-robe, a garment of the finest texture and of a shade known aswax-colour, through which the tint and ornamentation of the pallaproduced an effect of inimitable beauty. A slender, vine-work design,embroidered in gold, bordered the cyclas, and it was in arranging sothat the course of this would form harmonious lines, wherein the skilland difficulty of the task mainly lay.
A final appeal to the mirror followed, and then, with Marcia'sapproval, the work was over. She was robed, indeed, for a Capuanbanquet, and in a manner her simple Roman taste had never dreamed of.
As yet Calavius had not returned. She sat in the portico of thegarden, awaiting him, and time was now afforded her to think of herplans, the risk she ran, and the objects to be gained. Not since theresolve had first found place in her mind had she wavered and feared asnow, and an intolerable repugnance began to possess her.
Darkness had veiled the city for several hours, but it was the darknessof a southern night and of a city in festal mood. The stars seemed tostand out from the blue-gray vault above, as if reaching down to theearth--whether in pity or anger, she could not tell. Around the cityitself hung the luminous aura of its lights; the cries of revellerssounded from the neighbouring streets,--even the rush of feet,--while,to the eastward, the glow of the Carthaginian watch-fires seemed toreach upward to meet the rays of the stars. Yes, these were hostile tothe invaders! She knew it now. They were the glittering points ofRoman pila descending upon the foe--pila driven by the hands thatmouldered amid the red mire of Cannae. Surely those men approved ofwhat she was about to do! Was not Sergius among them, and would he notwill her to make good, by her beauty, what the sacrifice of his ownstrength had failed to accomplish? What interest had he, now, in heras a woman, as a mistress, as a wife? Greater thoughts must inspirethe shade that was once her lover: their common city, its life andpower, the destiny of the world that depended upon the preservation ofboth of these; and still she could not banish the feeling of doubt, ofdisapproval. Perhaps Calavius would not return, or perhaps he mightnot be able to gain for her permission to attend the banquet?
A commotion at the street entrance, the sound of approaching footsteps,and the rustle of a gown seemed about to answer her question. The nextmoment, her host stood before her and surveyed with astonished approvalthe appearance she presented.
"You are very beautiful," he said slowly and as if thinking with regretthat he was surrendering such perfection for mere influence and power."I have spoken of you and your wish, and Stenius and Pacuvius--theNinii Celeres--consent to your presence. The litters await us in thevestibule, and it is time that we set out."
Marcia rose, and he led her back through the halls and courts.
"Who will be there?" she asked, as they approached the street door.
"All of especial note, except Vibius Virrius and Marius Blossius. Theyare away, busied about matters of state. Mago also has just departedon a mission to Carthage. There will be no Campanians save our hosts,myself, my son, Perolla, and Jubellius Taurea, the bravest of ourhorsemen. Of our good allies, you shall see Hasdrubal, Maharbal,Hannibal-the-Fighter, Silenus the Sicilian, who is to write the historyof the wars, Iddilcar the priest of Melkarth, and the greatcaptain-general himself--"
"Come, let us hasten," said Marcia, quickly, as if fearful lest herresolution might forsake her while there was yet chance to withdraw.
A moment later and Calavius had assisted her into a gorgeouslycaparisoned litter. She hardly noticed the rabble that thronged roundthe door as she passed out, and whom the slaves of her host seemed tokeep back with difficulty. Still, she was conscious of nudgings,looks, and gestures that made her blush, though the words thataccompanied them were unintelligible. Calavius was furious and paused,as if to give orders for harsher repression. Then a voice called outin coarse jargon--half Latin, half Campanian:--
"She is pretty, my Pacuvius! Venus grant her to restore your youth!"
With an effort, he twisted his features into a smile.
"May the gods favour your wish, my friend!" he said. Then, plunginginto his litter, he clapped his hands, for the bearers to proceed, and,lying back among the cushions, ground his teeth in rage.
"Ah! I must play to them--now. Later I shall remember and know how toavenge. The lump of filth! Who knows, though, but that he spokewisdom? Perhaps I am truly giving up the hope of my youth to others."
Meanwhile the bearers were running swiftly through the streets; thatis, as swiftly as the crowds and their condition and humour permitted.Torches gleamed everywhere, and, from time to time as the curtainsparted slightly, Marcia caught glimpses of the scene. The city hadabandoned itself to the wildest debauchery--a debauchery that had aboutit more of the desire to drown unpleasant thoughts and haunting fearsthan of spontaneous exultation or mirth; and their drunkenness seemedbut a garment, thrown over the head to shut out the approaching spectreof Roman retribution. All Capua presented to her the spectacularresults of a turbulent democracy exalted to power; for the vagaries ofthe Roman plebeians seemed as nothing beside the unbridled insolence ofthis populace. Here was Pacuvius Calavius, who had triumphed by theiraid over a senate more than half in sympathy with Rome; and now,recognizing his litter, they thronged around it, calling out familiargreetings, or even sheer v
ulgarities, pulling the curtains aside,kissing their hands to him, and, from time to time, compelling hisbearers to pause while they slobbered drunken kisses upon his garmentsand person. No sign of true respect greeted their leader; it seemed asif the mob recognized him only as the creature of its whim, to beupheld as a facile puppet or cast down by the first savage gust ofdiscontent.
As for Calavius himself, he, too, fell readily into the part assignedhim. His face was wreathed in a constant smile, his lips spoke onlycompliments, his hands waved greetings, until, at last, Marcia layback, and, closing her eyes, refused to see more of her host'sdegradation.
Suddenly the litter-bearers paused and set down their burdens. Indistance the journey had been short, but the many enforced halts hadmade it seem as if the whole city had been traversed. They were nowbefore the porch of a house that was, if possible, even moremagnificent than that of Calavius. Every column was twined withgarlands, flowers hung in festoons from the architrave, incense steamedup from brazen tripods set on either side of the entrance. In frontand around the entire insula, the streets were packed dense with aseething crowd, save only for a small space before the vestibule, wherewas stationed a guard of Africans equipped in the manner of Romanlegionaries. These were rude, wiry soldiers, scornful of civilians andtheir fancied rights, but, above all, contemptuous of the softCampanian mob that arrogated so much and could command so little. Atfirst the populace had tried to browbeat and play with them, and thesoldiers had sallied out into the street and killed a couple of themost talkative, wounding half a dozen more. Now the cowardly Capuansstood back in awe, giving passage whenever the strangers called for it,and hardly daring to whisper among themselves as to what manner of rulethey had invited to destroy them. Were it not for this summarytreatment it is doubtful whether any of the guests would have been ableto gain the entrance--least of all Calavius, who was looked upon astheir peculiar creation and mouthpiece, and at whom a hundredcomplaints were volleyed (in low voices, be it said) as he made hisslow way through the press.
Glad to escape at last from a position at once embarrassing anddangerous, he now made haste to escort Marcia between the files offoreign guards, into the atrium, where the Ninii Celeres--smilinghosts--had stationed themselves to receive the guests that had beenbidden to so important a festivity. Thence he led her, muffled as shewas, to a vestiarium opening to the left side, where were already somehalf-dozen women, whose attendants were adding the finishing graces totoilets disarranged in the litters. One of these latter was assignedto Marcia's aid, but a few touches to her hair and a slightreadjustment of the cyclas were all that was needed.
Meanwhile, the Roman was watching, with deep interest, the group in thecourt of the atrium. She had taken a position from which she couldhave an unobstructed view through the doorway, and her attendant hadevidently informed herself as to the identity of the strangers, and wasanxious to win approval by communicating her knowledge.
"That is he, most beautiful lady; the one with the long, white tunic,at the right of my masters. Is he not poorly dressed for so great aman? Who would imagine him of any consequence at all?"
While the girl spoke, Marcia was regarding earnestly, and for the firsttime, the chief of Carthage, the conqueror of Trebia and Trasimenus andCannae--of Sempronius and Flaminius and Varro. She saw a man slightlyabove the middle height, well built, with strong, aquiline features andthick, black, curling beard and hair, though the latter was worn awayat the temples by constant pressure of the helmet. It was a face thatcombined deep thought, immeasurable pride, and absolute self-poise andinscrutability--a face that would have been handsome but for thedisfiguring effect of the eye lost in the marshes of the Arnus.Perhaps it was this that lent it something of its prevailing expressionof sadness; perhaps it was a realization of responsibilities met and tobe met and a premonition of the inevitable end. His dress was, as themaid had so scornfully commented, plain in the extreme--a strikingcontrast to the celebrated magnificence of his armour and militaryequipment. Now, a simple, white, tunic-like garment, relieved by anarrow border of gold, descended to his feet, while a slender goldfillet was his sole ornament in addition to the seal finger-ring andheavy earrings, which he wore in common with his companions.
The latter formed a group hardly less interesting than their leader,and the girl pointed them out, one by one, and made her approving orslurring comments. There was Hasdrubal, coarse-featured, middle-sized,and corpulent, whose garments gleamed with purple and gold, and whoseears, fingers, and neck glittered with a profusion of jewels. HimMarcia's informant evidently regarded with admiration approaching toawe, although his skill as manager of the commissariat, and hisexploits as a soldier when occasion demanded, were probably unknown toher.
Maharbal, slight and agile, with plain, dark robe and few jewels, withhair dressed high, diadem of plumes, and beard worn forked in theNumidian fashion, attracted but passing comment. He was doubtless asavage from the desert and of little wealth. Another of the generals,however, seemed to arouse more positive sentiments: a giant in size,with scarlet tunic, and loaded with gold chains and rings and gems, hisdark, ferocious face towered above the heads of his companions. Thewoman's voice sank to a whisper as she said:--
"That is the one they call Hannibal-the-Fighter. They say he neverspares an enemy, and that he eats the flesh of those he kills. May thegods grant that my masters shall wean him to-night from the love ofsuch hideous, barbaric fare!"--and yet, with all her horror, Marciaalmost smiled to note how the girl looked upon this brute with more ofwoman's feeling for man than she bestowed upon any of his betterfavoured and more famous compatriots.
From these four the Roman's eyes wandered to a fifth Carthaginian, whoseemed to complete the tale of guests of that nationality. Herinformant had passed him by in silence, and had gone on to point outJubellius Taurea, Pacuvius Calavius, and his son, Perolla--the onlyCampanians present besides the hosts of the occasion. When thecategory was completed, however, she called the maid's attention to theomission.
"He?" said the latter, lightly; "the man in the violet tunic? He isnothing--a priest of one of their gods whom they call Melkarth."
He was a tall, gaunt man, and he stood directly behind Hannibal, andkept his eyes fixed upon the pavement, as if studying the intricaciesof its mosaic pattern.
Silenus, the Greek rhetor, made the last of the group.
And now, at a signal from the hosts, the company turned and followedthem in single file toward the rear of the house.
"They will send for you when they have reclined," said the attendant,in answer to a glance of inquiry from Marcia; and, a moment later, thesummons came.
Walls, floors, ceilings, every part of the house through which theypassed, seemed covered with roses clustered, festooned, and superlaid.Suddenly they found themselves at the entrance of the great banquethall, where two triclinia were set facing each other, with room for theservants to pass between and minister to the wants of the feasters.
At the table to the east--that of honour--reclined Stenius Ninius, inthe middle place of the middle couch, with Hannibal himself at hisright, the place of honour above all. Marcia was led to the head ofthe lowest couch, next to the Carthaginian leader, where she foundPacuvius Calavius reclining below her, as the phrase went; while on thecouch directly opposite lay the priest of Melkarth in the lowest place,and Perolla in the highest. The other places, below Pacuvius, betweenStenius and the priest, and between the priest and Perolla, wereassigned to the women, while the other table, over which PacuviusNinius presided, was arranged in similar fashion.