***
“No doubt the history books will garble it”, Tarquinius said later. “They'll probably say it was Attus Navius who cleft the stone. No one will admit an Etruscan did it. Or a woman, come to that.”
“You think the Romans will ever have history books? Greeks, yes. Romans? Maybe.”
“I keep having to tell you not to be so superior. We are Romans.”
“Sort of,” she said grudgingly.
“But I would like to know how you did it.”
“Oh, we real augurs have our secrets,” she said.
“Just a hint?”
“Well...” She moved closer to him on the couch, leaning against his side. “You notice how I made him inspect the razor.”
“Of course. It wouldn't do to have anyone suspect us of cheating.”
“He didn't look at the stone.”
Tarquinius frowned. “But there are hundreds of stones scattered across the plain. How could you know...”
“Remember how it happened.”
Slow recognition smoothed itself over his face. “You strode up to him. You pointed at the stone. He followed. Tanaquil, you are a wonder.”
“I am indeed.”
“But...”
“Yes?”
“But how could you have known Attus Navius would object?”
“Politics, dear. Politics.”
“No, I'm not buying that. He's not part of Faustus' faction. He's never spoken before - not at the assemblies, not privately. He had nothing to say when I took the throne, he never objected to that, he never objected to any new laws before this. So how could you have known he would object?”
“Tarquinius, my dear.” She laid a finger on his lower lip, pressed firmly; took her finger away, and kissed him lightly where it had lain. “You must allow us augurs to have a few secrets, after all.”