 Section 16 of the Lion's Brood This has a LibriVox recording. All LibriVox recordings are in the public domain. For more information or to volunteer, please visit LibriVox.org Recording by Shashank Jagmola. The Lion's Brood by Duffield Osborne, the Queen of the Ways. There was much bustle and confusion throughout the little inn at Sinuessa. August was just closing and the midday summer beat down too fiercely to permit of comfortable travel safe toward morning or night. The innkeeper had hurried out and stood in the roadway, bowing and reading his face with smiles of welcome, while behind him were grouped his servants, each bearing some implement of his or her calling. A muster well calculated to impress the wayfarer with the assurance of comfort and good cheer. The occasion of all this demonstration was a party that had halted, apparently for refreshment and the customary travel siesta, a radar or four-wheeled travelling carriage, closely covered and drawn by three powerful horses yoked abreast. Two armed outriders, one apparently a freedman and the other a slave made of the company, the former of whom a stout, elderly man with grey hair and beard had reigned in his horse before the obsequious host, while the other remained by the carriage wheel as if to aid the driver in guarding the radar's occupants from intrusion. The innkeeper, short and fat, was breathing hard from the haste in which he had sailed out, but his words came volubly. Let the gentlemen alight and enter, or if they be ladies, so much the better. They shall make trial of the best inn along the whole length of the queen of ways. Such couches, as they have never seen, save doubtless in their magnificent homes, fit for the gods to lie upon, such dishes, such cooking, guinea hens, fed the fattened under my own eye, mullet fresh from the water with all greens of the season and such wine as only the massac mount can grow. Here, however, he paused to take breath and the freedman succeeded in interrupting the flow of words. By the gods, will you be silent? He said, perhaps we shall try your fare if you do not take up the whole day in telling us about it. First, however, it is necessary for us to learn certain things. How many miles is it to Capua? The innkeeper's face looked on a grieved look in place of the beaming smile of a moment's silence, but he answered promptly and humbly. The matter of 25 miles, my master, at what hour do they close the gates? The innkeeper glanced back at the group of domestics with a frightened expression. That is a military question. He said, how can I answer it in these times? It is dangerous to talk about such things. Not dangerous for you? Interested the other, rather scornfully. Since you campaignants have become pulse-eaters, not the wildest Numidian would dare disturb you. The cruel one is very tender of you all now. But wait till Rome shall fall, then you will know what his tenderness is worth when you are all busy grinding corn for cartridge. By all the gods, speak lower if you must say such words. I whispered the innkeeper, white with terror, if one of my servants should betray me. Like enough the gate is closed at all times. It is said that Hannibal enters the town tonight. Hannibal in Capua tonight came a voice from the redder, a woman's voice, softly and delicately modulated, yet deep and rich in its tones. At the same moment the curtains were drawn aside and she looked out, beckoning imperiously to the would-be host. Come near, my good man, I wish to speak with you more closely. The innkeeper stood as one dazed with open mouth and bulging eyes. He had looked upon great and beautiful ladies before for many such travelled by the Appian way, but the beauty and the nobility of this face seemed to him more than mortal. With all the grace, all the freshness, all the radiant charm of the girl Marcia were now joined the calm and deep-eyed crown of womanhood. The perfect lines that could so perfectly respond to playful or tender emotions were still unmarred and yet sorrow that had left no other trace had endowed them with new possibilities of devotion and high resolve. Come, repeated Marcia, and the little innkeeper trotted up to the redder and stood watching her with an expression of canine wonder and subservience in his big, dull eyes. Did I not hear you say that cannibal was to be in Kapua tonight? Have these false companions indeed carried out the treachery rumoured of them? The man had forgotten all his fears of a few moments since, nor did the slur upon his race rouse ought of indignation. Held fast under the spell of the dark eyes before him, he made haste to answer. The rumour, madame, that a traveller left with me some hours since is that Marius Blosius, praytor of Campania, has led all Kapua out to meet Hannibal, who is to feast tonight at the house of the Ninexcelerus, Stenius, and Paco Vius. But how was this done? She interrupted. It was said at Rome that some few evil spirits like Vibius Virius and Paco Vius Calo Vius were ill-disposed, but surely the senators of Kapua are faithful. I do not know as to that, said the fellow, with the stubborn dullness of a peasant. But I know it is hard to see your property and goods destroyed and to hold fast to allies who do not protect you and a Roman garrison at Casillinum all the time. They say this African is kind to his friends, and then, too, he sent home my son without ransom when the young man was prisoner in the north, some battle by some lake that I forget the name of. Such talk is well enough for poor spirit rabble, cried Marcia impetuously. But was there none of noble blood in the city, none who could compel duty? A look of cunning crossed his face as he answered. Paco Vius Calo Vius took care of that. He cooped up the Senate in the Senate House by telling them the people sought their lives. Then he went out and spoke against them to that same people and offered to surrender them for death, one by one, and then, when they had given up hope, he made a clever turn and persuaded us to forego their just punishment. So it is said in Capua that Paco Vius Calo Vius bought the Senators for his slaves and not one but runs to do his bidding. Senators, you see, do not like the rods and axe any better than humbler people like the sword and the torch. Marcia eyed him with disgust. Then her brow cleared. What could be expected from such a man, she thought, surely not exalted patriotism or high ideals, especially when the class question had been brought into play against public faith and public honour. Ms. Tepidity would yoke him to the side that seemed to promise the most immediate exemptions or rewards. It was possible though that the situation might not be as bad as it was painted, that there might still be faithful men in the second city of Italy. Men who, while at present, held down by the skillful plotting of their enemies or the hopelessness of open resistance were yet waiting, vigilant to seize upon the first promising opportunity to recover the lost crown. On the other hand, innkeepers were apt to be a well-informed class as to public happenings and this man told his tale with parrot-like precision. At any rate, there is nothing to do but reach Capua as soon as possible for the Carthaginian commander once within the walls, no one could tell what precautions and scrutiny might be established at the gates. She turned to the freedman. There is no time for resting and refreshment, Ligurius, we must not lose the chance of entering the city before nightfall. And to the man who rode at the wheel, come, Kaipur, a little weariness will not hurt us. The drivers whipped curled about the horse's flanks and they started forward, but the disappointed innkeeper laid hold of one of the poles that supported the covering of the raider and gasped and sputtered as he ran. What now? Would you die of the heat? Am I to lose my custom because I am good-natured and tell the news? Kaipur turned in his seat and raised the thong used to urge on his animal, but Masiya, hearing the clamour, thrust the curtain aside again and motioning the slave to restrain himself through several denari to her would-be host. At the same moment, the horses suddenly quickened their gate and the perceiver, keeping his hold, was jerked flat upon his face. Be cautious, shouted the Kaipur. There is silver in the dust you are swallowing and they hurried on, unable to distinguish whether the half-choked ejaculations that followed them were thanks or curses. There was a short silence punctuated by the cracking of the whip, the clatter of hooves and the crunching of wheels along the pavement. Then the curtains once more parted slightly and Kaipur, watchful to serve, saw Masiya beckoning head and drew closer to the raider. Bend down, she said, and as he obeyed, she whispered, You were my brother's servant, Kaipur, and you bear his name. Will you help me to avenge him? The slave's eyes flashed and he straightened himself on his horse. Then he lowered his head to hear more. Legurius, she continued, will be brave and faithful to my family in all things. I want one who will be faithful to what is greater and to see what is less, to Rome and to me. I seek sifting for the Republic and I seek revenge for those who are dead. Will you help me when Legurius haunts? The cross itself will not taunt me. He said simply, whatever you shall do, lady, I will be faithful to the death. For me, perhaps, to the death, Kaipur, she answered, but for you if the gods favour me to life and to freedom. His cheek flushed with the rich blood of his Samnite ancestors and as Legurius glanced back from his post at the head of the party, the young man made his horse bound forward, lest his attitude and perturbation might bring some suspicion of a secret confidence to the mind of the old freedman. So they descended within the hemicycle of hills. The heights of Mount Tifata began to fall away on the left, the rough precipitous line of crags sweeping around toward the east seemed to dwindle into the distance as they drew nearer, while the low jumble of Neapolitan hills beyond which lowered Vesuvius with its fluttering pen and of vapor rose higher and higher upon the southern horizon. A turn of the road, a temporary makeshift, led them around Cassilinum, whose little garrison lay close nor opened their gates to friend or foe. There at last, in the midst of the level plain that stretched down to the sea, lay Capua, gleaming white and radiant beneath the brush of the now descending sun. Gradually the great sweep of city walls grew lowering and massive. It still lacked an hour of sunset and the travellers had not urged themselves unduly through the midday course. The foam, yellowed and darkened by dust had dried upon the horse's flanks save only where the chafing of the harness kept it fresh and white. Marciel leaned far out of the redder and gazed eagerly at the nearing town, Caipur, seemed scarcely able to restrain his eagerness to dash forward while Ligurius shaded his eyes with his hand and viewed the spectacle like a general counting the power of his approaching foe. Even at this distance they saw or began to imagine they saw some indescribable change. Not a flurry of motion or excitement. They were too far away to know that had such been present. It was, as though above, around every tower and battlement hung an atmosphere of hostility and defiance. Yet this was friend of Rome through days of wheel and days of woe. The second city of Italy. Nearer and nearer they drew. The horses threw their heads in the air and presaging rest and preventer quickened their pace without urging. Suddenly an exclamation burst from the lips of Ligurius. Look, he cried. It is true. They are indeed here. Marcia and Caipur strove to follow his hand. My northern eyes, old though they be, are better than yours of the south. Do you not see them? One, two, three. Gods, they are thick on the walls. What? In the name of Job? exclaimed Marcia impatiently and then Caipur started. I see. I see now, he cried. Ah, mistress, they are the standards of Carthage, the horse's head, yellow with red mains, guts, how they glitter, cold and blood, cold and blood. Drive on, said Marcia, for they had all drawn rain half unconsciously and she lay back behind the curtains of the radar. End of section number 16. Section 17 of The Lion's Brood. This is a LibriVox recording. All LibriVox recordings are in the public domain. For more information or to volunteer, please visit LibriVox.org. The Lion's Brood. by Duffield Osborne. Section 17. The Gate. A harsh cry of command or warning rang out ahead and the Reda stopped short with a jolt. Ligurius had thrown his horse upon his haunches and then backed him so as to take post at that side of the vehicle unprotected by Caipor. But, a moment later, the rush of a dozen tall figures thrust them both away. The curtains were torn aside and Marcia looked out into savage faces in great, staring blue eyes. Three or four overlapping circuits of iron just above the hip seemed the limit of these men's defensive armor and the skin of some animal was thrown about the brawny shoulders of such as had not replaced their barbaric mantles with the Roman military cloak. The hair of each, black or red, but always long and indescribably filthy was caught up in a knot at the top of the head. Once it streamed away, loose or matted, like the tail of an unkempt horse. Their feet were bare and their legs were covered by linen breeches bound close with leathern thongs. It needed not the great broadsword slung about their shoulders to tell them for Hannibal's galls, creatures scarcely half-human, whose name brought terror to the Roman maiden as the sight of them had carried death or slavery to her less-favored sister on the blacker days of the Aliyah. But Marcia showed little of womanish weakness. To the jargon of a dozen voices, a jargon that sounded like the yelping and barking of a pack of dogs, she opposed a cool and dignified silence. A dozen hands reached out to touch her as they would touch something strange and admirable, but she drew back and the rude hands and staring blue eyes fell before the flash of her indignation. At that instant a man strode forward, hurling the soldiers from his path right and left or striking them fiercely with his staff, taller by almost half-ahead than the others, his richer vesture in arms, but above all the gold collar about his neck and the gold bracelets upon his arms marked the chief. Standing by the reda he met Marcia's look of proud defiance for a moment, then his eyes shifted and seemed to wander. But cloaking with Marcia's sternness the embarrassment of the barbarian he spoke in Gaelic. Who are you? Unable to understand the question, much less to answer it, she turned away and ignored both the man and his words. Again the look of indecision and embarrassment returned to his face. But glancing round he saw Aigarius struggling at the hands of his captors and caught some words of Gaelic in his half-throttle remonstrances. Bring him, he said, shortly, with a motion of his staff and the freedmen who had been roughly pulled from his horse was thrust forward, his clothes hanging in tatters, his face bruised and bleeding from his efforts to break loose and guard his mistress from intrusion or insult. Who is she? And who are you? Asked the chief sternly for his eyes now that they looked into those of a man and an inferior had regained all their wild fierceness. Aigarius hesitated, partly from lack of wind and partly from a doubt as to how much or what it would be wise to tell. Speak! cried the other impatiently. Marcia threw aside the curtains which had been allowed to fall back in their place and leaned out. The scene looked critical. The Gael's face was working with nervous irritation while his followers scarcely recovered from his sudden onslaught stood around in a ring, some fingering their swords and with expressions whose wonder and stupidity seemed fast giving pace to the lust of blood and plunder. Kaipor had been nox senseless at the beginning and the driver was in the hands of several soldiers. Aigarius looked inquiringly at his mistress. He asks who he are, he said. What shall I say? Ah! you plot to deceive me! cried the Gaul losing control of his temper and before Marcia could answer he struck the freedmen down with his staff. One of his followers shifted his sword-belt after drawing the great weapons stepped forward but Marcia had sprung from Lareda and stood with clenched hands and flashing eyes above her prostrate attendant. Bandits! murderers! she cried. Does your general permit you to rob and kill travelers that seek to enter a friendly city? Understanding the act rather than the words the soldier halted and the chief's eyes began again to shift nervously. But soon an expression of mingled lust and cunning came into them. You are beautiful, he said. You shall not die, you shall dwell in my hut. Marcia shuddered at the glance in change of tone. He reached out his arms, tattooed in blue designs and made as if to advance. She drew a dagger from her girdle infuriated by the sight of what he took to be a hostile weapon. The barbarian's sword was out in an instant then he perceived that the dagger was directed not at his breast, but at the woman's. The point of the great sword already half-raised dropped slowly to the ground and a new look of embarrassed amazement took the place of the momentary glare of savage fury. How it would have ended never transpired for a commotion at the gate attracted the attention of all. A small detachment of soldiers was advancing at a leisurely pace headed by a young officer whose arms blazed with gold and silver. No hanabalian veterans these as they came near even Marcia could note the sleek soft look of the men and their listless, muscle-less gait. While their leader's hair and person literally reeked with perfumes his eyes turned slowly from the large gall to the woman then a flash of animation lent them light. How is this he asked? Why this tumult? Who are these people? The gall shook his head defiantly as if ignorant of the speech of his interrogator while his followers began to nudge each other pointing out the round limbs and fresh complexions of the capuans and laughing scornfully. The young officer flushed and turning to Marcia repeated the question, I am a Roman. Do you not understand my tongue? She said. He glanced fearfully at the galls then reassured by their evident failure to comprehend. He regained his assurance and answered Surely, lady, an educated capuan cannot fail to understand all languages civilized or barbarous. I speak the Greek, the Roman? All. Only permit me to beg you to be less frank in naming your city. Roman is a dangerous word to use here. What has led one to be so beautiful and so accomplished to run the risk of such a journey? Do you not know that Hannibal and his men are in Capua? That is why these beasts have been able to disturb you. But fear not, he continued as she was about to speak, I am also here to protect you. And he accompanied the words with a glance that left the nature of the protection offered more than equivocal. Suppressing her mingled feelings of disgust and amusement, Marcia answered haughtily May Jove favor you for your offer, but has it come that the expected guest of Pesuvius Calavius needs protection at the gate of Capua? Amazement and deference were at once apparent in his changed manner. Ah, he said slowly as if trying to gather his wits. That is different. Very different. It is a double regret that these vermin have troubled you, but you are safe now. Marcia found herself wondering whether he would allude to the gulls so scornfully had they been able to understand his words. The capuan turned to the Gaelic chief who together with his followers had drawn nearer. Make way, he cried, loose the slave that drives then to his own men, raise up the two that are heart, and to Marcia and you, lady, will it please you to return to your carriage? But the gulls, although evidently understanding the nature of his orders, showed no disposition to obey them. On the contrary, at a few words from their chief they pushed closer yet and some of them even began to jostle the soldiers of the capuan guard. A light blow or a sharp word bade fair to precipitate a conflict that, despite the numerical equality, could hardly be doubtful on its outcome when a sharp commanding voice rang out behind. All swung around, as if to meet a blow, and then the press opened. A rider, glittering in arms of simple but rich design and mounted upon a black horse was advancing from the gate. Two Spaniards, who rode several spear tanks behind him, were his sole escort. But alone, or at the head of a legion, it was all the same. No eye of gull or capuan saw ought but the one horseman. And yet it was not easy to tell where in the force lay. He was a young man, probably twenty, possibly twenty-five, for life advanced quickly under the sons of Africa. His figure was slender and boyish, his face thinly bearded, a lack which was accentuated by the beard dividing into two points. Yes, now they saw. It was his eyes that had dispelled the boast and swagger of the gull, the superciliousness of the capuan, and whatever of brawling boldness had been in either. Those eyes were black and large and flashing with courage and energy and the pride of noble birth. No detail of the scene seemed to escape their first glance, and he asked no question as he rode into the crowd. Artics, he said, addressing the gull in his own tongue, back to your gate, and you, turning to the capuan officer and changing his language with ready ease, it would be wise for you to consider the unwisdom of quarreling with our veterans. There was just enough of contempt in the inference of that last word to check the flow of explanation and complaint that was rising to the lips of the young exquisite. The newcomer had turned his back. The capuan saw his followers slinking away with artics and his gulls. It was hard to lose a chance of talking to a great man and surely a few of the words he could choose and speak so well would compel the Carthaginian to value him at his worth. Still, there was something that impressed upon him the unwisdom of speech and after a moment of embarrassed indecision, he turned and strode away with the rest, seeking to conceal the humiliation of his retreat by the swagger of his gate and the fierceness of his expression, which there was no one to see. While this little comedy was passing, he, whose advent had been at its occasion, was regarding Marcia fixedly, but he now looked into eyes that neither quailed nor wandered before his own and last he spoke, and in Latin I am Mago, son of Emilsar, what brings a Roman woman to Capua these days? This youth then was the famous brother of Hannibal, the commander of the ambush at Trabia. His voice was cold, harsh and metallic and in his eyes there was none of the rude lust of the gull or the polished licentiousness of the Capuan. They burned only with the fires that light the souls of patriots and leaders of men. I come, said Marcia, slowly, for several reasons and believing that Carthage does not make war upon women. The eyes lost nothing of their cold scrutiny at the implied compliment or the covert reproach and what reasons, he asked sharply. For the one, replied Marcia as she was conscious of an effort in holding her voice to its steady inflection, that my house is bound in hospitality to that of Pesuvius, Calavius, Mago's brow cleared for an instant. Our friend, he said. He's married to one of your Claudians. Then it darkened again as he continued. Well, and you seek him for what? To tempt him back to Rome? I seek him, said Marcia, boldly, because I am wise. Have I not seen the narrowing of Rome's resources, the quarrels of the factions? I have come from there and I tell you that if Hannibal have patience until the spring, it is Rome that will beg him to take her. What part has a woman with a man who cannot protect himself? Let her look for a new defender, if she be wise. An odd look had come into the Carthaginian's face as she spoke. A look more scornful but less threatening. You speak true women's philosophy, he said. That is the philosophy of these times. I'm convinced that there were days and women, ha, now it is only glory that is worthy to be a man's bride. Come, I will lead you to the house of Calavius. Ligurius had recovered sufficiently to remount his horse while Mago's attendants had laid the still senseless kaipor in the reda to which their master now assisted Marcia. Then he rode on by the wheel of the carriage. As for the daughter of Torkatus, not even the consciousness of her purpose and the high and bitter motives that had shaped it could drive the touch of shame from her cheeks. It gulled her when she considered how she must appear to this man a mere youth and a Carthaginian and it gulled her all the more that she should care for his opinion. That she had inspired only his contempt was quite evident and she, whose glances had always gone straight as the arrows of love to the hearts of men now found herself more annoyed by the indifference of an enemy than she had been by the dangers from which he had rescued her. She was not certain whether it was with the desire to gain his sight or only in the pursuance of her plans that she spoke again. Does my lord think worse for me for what I have said? I thought you a woman. Now I know you for one, he replied carelessly. Ah, but my lord did not ask as to my other reasons for seeking the camp of Carthage. That is a matter for Calavius to look to. He becomes an enemy so much the worse for him. And if I come as a woman who gave a hated marriage to seek a lover who has won her heart far off, Calavius? laughed Mago. The boy and him suddenly flashing out they say even the old men here are hunters of women. Have a care of the Claudian though. She may bite. Marcia flushed crimson. Mago was not an easy subject for female influence. Besides, she began to realize that the respect she could not help feeling for the attitude of the young soldier might hamper whatever effort she put forth to ensnare him. His closeness to Hannibal, however, would make his conquest as advantageous as it seemed difficult. And it was some such thought as this that prompted her next words. Happy the leader and brother that has so single and so firm a counselor! She spoke as if half unconsciously, but Mago shot a sharp glance straight into her eyes. My brother is the captain general of Carthage, and I am only a young soldier. Doubtless he is wise to ignore my opinions, and yet had he let Maharbaal and myself at the close of the day in Cannae, had he let us press on with the Calvary and followed with such speed as the gods could grant, I am convinced that within five days he had sucked in the capital. His tone changed as he spoke to one of fierce enthusiasm, and his listener shuttered, then syncing his voice he went on as if speaking to himself. Even now, even now before the winter closes in there might be a chance. Later there will recover strength and courage and we shall become compuents. Marcia hid her agitation behind the curtains of the radar. She was terrified by his vehemence and the justice of his reasoning. There was a man whose whole influence be pitted against the purpose of her journey, and her woman's intuition told her that no argument or allurement could turn his mind. There was a feeling of relief that the halting of the vehicle before the porch of a stately house checked the unwise retort that trembled on her lips. Later she could oppose him better than if yielding now to an impulse to contravert his views. She had a round suspicion. End of section 17 Section number 18 of The Lion's Brood. This is a LibriVox recording. All LibriVox recordings are in the public domain. For more information or to volunteer please visit LibriVox.org The Lion's Brood by Duffield Osborne Section 18 Pesuvius Calavius The house of Pesuvius Calavius was well situated near the center of town accessible to the forum and upon a street of considerable width. The porch of the Ostium was supported by four columns delicately fluted and painted the lower half in Dull Crimson the upper in O'Share. A porter in costume much richer than those worn by most free Romans lounged on a stool set upon the mosaic pavement and roused himself lazily to shuffle down and inquire why the raider had halted before his door. Ah, it was a lady, and he smirked with insolent meaning who desired to see his master. He threw out his hands with a deprecatory gesture. The gods were, in truth, very friendly to Pesuvius Calavius. But then he was very old a complaint which few could guard against. Oh, Mago had signaled to one of his horsemen and the soldiers lash whistled and wound itself around the slave's neck. All the fellows in laziness and insolence vanished and he fell upon the pavement, writhing and whimpering. Lashed the hound till he does his office and Mago quietly, and the shorthand thong rose again. But before it descended a second time the porter had rolled and scrambled to his feet and was rushing to open the door. He vanished with wonderful speed and a moment later there appeared a man somewhat above middle age with a close curling white beard and clad in a robe so heavily embroidered in a round color a matter of conjecture. With keen eyes that shifted nervously he hurried down towards the radar. Then, noting Mago and that he was a Carthaginian of rank he paused, uncertain and his salutation savored somewhat of over-respect. A lady, he said hesitatingly a lady who desires to see me. Marcia parted the curtains and leaned out, smiling. The newcomers stopped short and gasped in astonishment. Mago glanced sharply from one to the other and his look curled. He signed to his attendance and, with an obeisance that had it in haughtiness rather than courtesy, he rode away. Glancing cautiously up and down the street Galavia's approached the radar. And it is the lady Marcia who was to honor my house. He began in words that carried more welcome than did the tone. A dangerous journey in these days and a dangerous destination. Surely you are welcome. And who was the young man who rode with you? Did he know anything of your name and birth? I trust you were cautious? Marcia laughed. Do not fear, father. Galavia's frowned slightly at the venerable title and shook out his robe that the odors might permeate the air. Do not fear, but that I was as cunning as your companions. I told him I was a Roman. Wherefore not? For the matter of that, he divined it. He is Mago, the brother of Hannibal. And he brought you here? cried Galavia, trembling now in good haste. Surely it was done to ruin me. But who's plot? Who's plot? It is not necessary I should be your guest and Marcia with well feigned indifference. Doubtless there are inns, but he guided me here because I asked for your house. Imagining that my father's friend would have a welcome from my father's daughter. Galavia's instantly recovered his composure. Ah, dear lady, he began in a voice from which all the tremor had vanished. And do you dream for a moment that you should taste of other hospitality than mine? Will you not descend? Nay, I will help you. And let us enter quickly. These are indeed troublest days and every door creaks with a warning. Troublest days with each man's hand against his neighbor plotting by necessity, often rather than by preference. What, your attendance are hurt? Again his voice shook. Abrol? That is bad. But come within. It is there you shall tell me of it all. So speaking he assisted Marcia to descend and summoning his servants gave the Reda and its guardians to their care. And he led the way into the house carefully fastening the street door behind them, for the porter evidently had not halted in his flight short of the slaves' apartments upstairs. Marcia followed, wondering at the magnificence of the decorations. She passed through passages lighted by hanging lamps of gold and silver and bronze, past rich walls with frescoes and black and yellow and red. Panels and pictures such as Fabius Pictor could never have dreamed when he ornamented the Temple of Safety. Frescoes that so far surpassed the work of Demophilus and Gorgasus upon the Wall of Ceres, as these had surpassed the art of Pictor himself. Then came courts surrounded by rows of fluted columns set with fountains that threw light sprays of scented water over the flowers and garments of the pastors. Then more passages, with paintings of even greater merit and delicacy of execution mingled here and there, with scenes where the delicacy was of the execution alone and that brought hot blushes to her cheek. Amid all were scattered richly carved pedestals bearing beautiful statues done in marble or bronze or great vases, black or terracotta, with intricately composed groups of figures in the opposite tint. It came like a veritable revelation to one who had known nothing but the crude art of the Etruscans and the cruder handicraft of her own people, tempered as they were, by the taste of such Greek artists as fell so far short of their native ideals is to be willing to waste their skill upon barbarians. She had heard of the wealth and luxury of the Capuans but it had never entered her mind to imagine that a luxury of Capua could demand so much that the wealth of Campania purchased pictures whose distance and proportions were true to life itself and sachets had seemed veritably to live and breathe. Her eyes were big with wonder and admiration. When her guide and host turned sharply to the right and ushered her into a small room that looked out through a row of slender pillars into a portico beyond and thence into a garden that seemed a very forest of small rose trees, around the walls ran a shelf upon which were set a number of circular boxes, while laying upon the table were several bulky rolls of papyrus, in parchment wrappers stained yellow or purple. My library, said Calavius in a careless tone, but with a wave of his arm that showed his pride in its possession. 389 works, the best, and some of the most excellent authors, poets, philosophers, historians, retarticians, all that is worth reading. No man in Capua had a better show of literature, unless perhaps, be it D.C.S. Magius. And his voice sank as if the name had brought him back to a realization of circumstances. Here I can read without disturbance and here we can talk without fear of interruption for years. Their slaves always stationed at both ends of the portico, to ensure quiet. And you were the man who was dared turned Capua over to the enemies of Rome. Truly, I cannot understand. Marcia could not restrain the words and Calavius flushed. Do not condemn me for timidity, he said quickly. These are dangerous seas for a man of mark to steer his craft upon. Carthaginians and other barbarians are not citizens of Capua. No refinement, no civilization. Much has happened to disturb me and unsettle my nerves. D.C.S. Magius has been parading in the forum defying our friends. And who with him but my own son Perola, casting discredit on my plans and danger on himself is what the utmost difficulty I could drag him away. And then what does the Carthaginian do but fly into a rage and demand an audience of a senate with a view to punishing D.C.S. Nothing but my influence and that of the various and the 90 have persuaded him to forgo his purpose for the time. And that, only by pleading the joy of this day and that it should be given to nothing save festivity and feasting truly my mind misgives me. Still, they have sworn that no Carthaginian shall have any power over a Campanian. Was that not a noise at the portico? He rose and gliding out to the row of pillars looked up and down. Marcia regarded him with contempt and pity. And yet, she said, it is for this terror and distrust that you have betrayed Rome. Were there none of our soldiers and citizens in the town? Do not speak of it whispered Calavius, growing even paler a most frightful misfortune. They were taken in arms or at their business what matters at which and confined in the baths for safekeeping. And then, said Marcia for he paused and then some evil disposed persons turned on the vapor. They were killed? She cried. Not so loud not so loud for the love of all the gods but a mistake, a terrible mistake. Ah, guess friend of my father said Marcia sadly. If here is a mistake that Rome will exact a heavy price for, you say truly that it matters not how they were taken. But I swear it was of no will of mine he cried and then, fearing Lestia committed himself too deeply he went on. In fact, lady, they say too much. Who set this revolution at my door who say that I was the mover of all? Was it not by Vibius Verus who first suggested it? Was it not by Marius Blasius the Praetor who led out the people to meet the Carthaginians and see how my son is still with Rome? No, by Bacchus. There are many a thousand times more guilty if it be guilt and on whom the rods and axes must fall down first if there be justice under the gods you can bear witness at Rome to that. There will be rods and axes enough for all said Marcia, grimly filled with horror and disgust for the deeds told of and with contempt for this timid plotter of treachery and murder. Then, suddenly, she noted a sinister glitter within his eye. At the same time, remembering her mission, she checked her words and went on. Rods and axes enough for all who are feeble as to not take the sovereignty of Italy when it lies within their grasp. What is it that you say? He said eagerly and the threat fled from his face. The sovereignty of Italy? Ah, that is a great prize. Who shall deny it to us? Are we not the second city? Have we not allies the strongest in the world? A general the greatest? And when all is over, who so fitting to rule is the first man of the first city? For Rome will be no more. Ah, I will deal with him gently, though. I will conciliate, unless I be opposed to obstinately. You shall tell them that. Are they meditating surrender? Do they not see that we must prevail? But his tone changed again to distrust. I have forgotten to ask, amid my anxiety about matters of state, why have you come to Capua, a Roman, at such times? Marcia laughed, for she was ready for her part now. And this adversary, at least, she despised, perhaps too much. For he was a cunning man in his way, and when the matter demanded only chicanery against other cowards, ah, my Pesuvius, a politician like you, asked me that, she exclaimed gaily. Is it for a woman to remain a ship buffeted and rocking in the storm, a ship that must found her soon, if it be left to itself? Is that truth, he asked eagerly, but with a tinge of suspicion in his voice? Surely it is truth. And it is a truth that I, with many other women, have gone out to such cities where there are friends of our houses, cities friendly to the new powers, friends strong enough to give a shelter and protection. It is my happy fortune to have found a city and a friend the strongest of all. Calavius smiled complacently and stroked his beard. Yes, you have done well, he said slowly. I am not without interest with the captain general of Carthage, and there may be yet greater things at store for me. I will go now and send female attendants to you, that you may seek the bath in your room, and you have such refreshment as you desire. I will talk with you again later, but tonight there is the banquet at the house of the Nine-E. There will be the greatest feast that Capua has seen, a banquet to Hannibal and the Carthaginian leaders. Farewell. He turned to go, but she rose quickly and laid her hand upon his robe. You have not heard all yet, she said, casting down her eyes and speaking in halting phrases. Do you truly believe that it is only a woman's fears that have brought me to Capua? You have not questioned me closely. That is not worthy of your wisdom. It is hard for a woman to tell all things unless they be drawn from her. He stared with eyes full of wonder. What do you mean? He asked. Then, throwing her head to one side, she laughed, so that Sergius himself would have scarcely had known it from the laugh of the free-hearted, jesting Marcia of other days. Oh, my father, you a Capuan and a man learned in the ways of women. It is pitiful this littleness of your knowledge. Come, tell me now, as to a pedagogue. What is that that leads a woman who is through all dangers? Surely, my child, it is love, said Calavius, vacantly. Then his face took on an expression, first of furrowed surprise, then of gratified vanity, an expression that brought the hot blush to Marcia's cheek. Even while she struggled to restrain her contentious mirth, his manner changed at once to one of insinuating gallantry, which she hastened to check before he should commit himself. What is it that makes women love men? What, if not strength and courage? I am a Roman, my father, but Roman men are no longer fit-mates for Roman women. Where but in the camp of Carthage shall I find one worthy of my beauty? It is there I seek my lover. Disappointment lowered on the face of Calavius. He had noted her beauty long before she had referred to it, but now he noted it with a more distinct desire than the words my father, which she had used, though but a customary respect graded the more harshly upon his ears. Still, controlling himself, he asked, in which man of our allies has the Lady Marcia chosen to bless with the love that is too high for a humble Italian? She looked the siren herself, and she answered, surely my father would not learn the secret of his daughter, Calavius winced, believe only that he who has been loved at a distance is noble and powerful. However, if so be that my lord would learn the truth, let him take her to this banquet. I have heard often that much liberty is allowed to the women of Capua. Why not then, to the guest of the noblest of the Capuans? The mind of Calavius had been divided. With the first rebuff of his rising passion had come the impulse to avail himself of his power and of the helpless position of his guest to gratify his spite or his pleasure as she might choose to make it. Then, at the suggestion that she loved and had come to seek a Carthaginian of rank, he thought of the disfavor, even peril, it might incur, by such a course should an enemy or a slave learn the facts and expose him. And finally, he fell into a cunning casting up to the influence where he might gain over the lover, whoever he was, to whom he should be instrumental in surrendering such perfect beauty. Again, he winced at the thought. But then, what more likely that her silly women's vanity had aspired to the captain general himself, and he, Vesuvius Calavius, might soon be in the confidential go-between. What profit and influence might not be found in such a relation? So personal. So beneficent. After all, there were many beautiful women, even among his slaves. And what was the difference between woman and woman compared to the dreams of Italian sovereignty that hovered before his eyes? He knew well that no wife or daughter of a Capu'an would be present at the banquet. Only the most beautiful of the cities had Iri. But what of that? This girl was a Roman, an enemy. The dreams of hospitality between his people and hers would be shivered in the coming crash of arms. What mattered if it to gain a point? A great point. He wrenched to lose his personal obligations a few days sooner? Yes, Marcia should go to the banquet. And, if Hannibal desired her, then he, Vesuvius Calavius, would surrender her into his arms. He knit his brows and spoke. What you ask, my daughter, is truly difficult to compass. Nor do I know that any women or of what class will be present. Trust, however, that all my power shall be at your service to gain any wish of your heart. And you know I am not powerless. Only remember that it is your will that I am doing. I will send a servant who shall lead you to your chamber. Rest, prepare, and expect my return before the third hour. Farewell. Marcia did not detain him. She noticed the wealth of odors that his fluttering gown had left behind, and her contempt and disgust deepened. End of section 18 Section number 19 of The Lion's Brood This is a LibriVox recording. All LibriVox recordings are in the public domain. For more information or to volunteer, please visit LibriVox.org The Lion's Brood by Duffield Osborne Section number 19 The House of the Nineties Salaries The Russell of Garments aroused Marcia from asleep wherein had been more of bitter reverie than of rest. And, glancing up, she saw at the entrance of her apartment two girls, evidently slaves. They had knelt with arms crossed upon their breasts and downcast eyes. Will my mistress be pleased to place herself in the hands of her servants that she may receive refreshment and whatsoever she desires? The girl's voice was soft and musical. Marcia rose and with a slight inclination of the head indicated her acquiescence. Then, as she followed her new guides through new halls and rooms around and through the colonnade to a part of the house beyond the garden there were the apartments of the bath and, under the skillful hands of her attendants she felt the fatigue and blights of the journey passing from her. No such artists of luxury were known in Rome as were these slave women of Capua. New refinements were revealed at every step. Refinements had seemed to culminate when the hairdresser began her work. First came the anointing with the richest odors combined from a dozen vials of ivory and fine glass, then the crimping and curling with hot irons, the touch of which served also, as the attendant explained, to consume whatever coarseness clung to the perfumes and to bring out their finest and most delicate effects. Meanwhile, the Roman simplicity of Marcia's wardrobe and jewel case had been thoroughly explored, not without some scornful side glances on the part of the Capu and women. And she who was in charge of the tiring announced their contents to be quite inadequate for Marcia the Lady for a banquet of state, an announcement which brought more smiles than blushes to Marcia's face. Still, despite her half veiled contempt there was nothing to do but resign herself absolutely into the hands of such competent authorities. And besides she could not say that she found the process altogether displeasing. The elaborate structure of curls and frizzes had now been confined in place by a net of fine gold thread in which were set at regular intervals pearls remarkable for their color form. Then a dozen long pins with carved gold heads were passed through the net and above and around all was bound a diadem of thin beaten gold ornamented with intricate open work tracery. Finally, the hairdresser having bathed Marcia behold herself in the polished silver mirror which she held up, retired with an expression of serene self-appropriation upon her face and gave way to other attendants. One of these bound the smallest of jeweled sandals upon feet that were too small, even for them. Another produced a long pala or sleeveless tunic of apple tint ornamented with feather patterns and fastened it with amethyst brooches on the shoulders. Last, the head-tire woman herself came to perform what was, after the hairdressing, the most delicate of all these operations. The adjustment of the cyclas or overrobe, a garment of the finest texture and of a shade known as wax color through which the tint and ornamentations of the pala produced an effective, imitable beauty, a slender vinework design embroidered in gold bordered the cyclas and it was in arranging so that the course of this would form harmonious lines wherein the skill and difficulty of the task mainly lay. A final appeal to the mirror followed and then with Marcia's approval the work was over. She was robed indeed for a capoean banquet and in a manner her simple roman taste had never dreamed of. As yet Calavius had not returned she sat in the portico of the garden awaiting him and time was now afforded her to think of her plans, the risks she ran and the objects to be gained. Not since the resolve had first found place in her mind had she wavered and feared as now and an intolerable repugnance began to possess her. Darkness had veiled the city for several hours but it was the darkness of a southern night and of a city in a festival mood. The stars seemed to stand out from the blue-grey vault above as if reaching down to the earth, whether in pity or anger she could not tell. Around the city itself hung the luminous aura of its lights, the cries of revelers sounded from the neighboring streets even the rush of feet while to the eastward the glow of the carthaginian watchfires seemed to reach upward to meet the rays of the stars. Yes these were hostile to the invaders. She knew it now. They were the glittering points of Roman Pila descending upon the foe Pila driven by the hands that moldered amid the red mire of Cannae surely those men approved of what she was about to do. Was not surgius among them? And would he not will her to make good by her beauty, what the sacrifice of his own strength had failed to accomplish? What interest had he now in her as a woman? As a mistress? As a wife? Greater thoughts must inspire the shade that was once her lover. Their common city, its life and power, the destiny of the world that descended upon the preservation of both of these and still she could not banish the feeling of doubt, of disapproval perhaps Calavius would not return or perhaps he might not be able to gain for her such 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 next moment her hosted before her and surveyed with astonished approval the appearance she presented you are very beautiful he said slowly as if thinking with regret that he was surrendering such perfection for mere influence and power I have spoken of you and your wish and Stenius and Pesuvius the Nene Solaris consent to your presence the litters await us in the vestibule 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 a special note except Vibius Varus and Marius Blasius they are away busy about other matters of state Mago has just also departed on a mission to Carthage there will be no companion save our hosts myself my son Parola and Jubelius Tarea the bravest of our horsemen of our good allies you shall see Hasdrubal Maharbal Hannibal the fighter Silenius the Sicilian who was to write the history of the wars Edilcar the priest of Melcharth and the great Captain General himself come let us hasten said Marcia quickly as if fearful lest her resolution might forsake her while there was just yet chance to withdraw a moment later and Calavius had assisted her into a gorgeously comparison litter she hardly noticed the rabble that thronged she passed out and whom the slaves of her hosts seemed to keep back with difficulty still she was conscious of nudging looks and gestures that made her blush though the words that accompanied them were unintelligible Calavius was furious and paused as if to give orders for harsher repression then a voice called out in coarse jargon half Latin half companion she is pretty my Pesuvius Venus grant her to restore your youth with an effort he twisted his features into a smile may the gods favor your wish my friend he said then plunging into 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 to avenge the lump of filth who knows though but that he speak wisdom perhaps I'm truly giving up the hope of my youth to others meanwhile the bearers were running swiftly through the streets that is as swiftly as the crowds in their condition of humor permitted torches gleamed everywhere and from time to time as the curtains parted slightly Marcia caught glimpses of the scene the city had abandoned itself to the wireless debauchery a debauchery that at the time had seen more about the desire to drown unpleasant thoughts and haunting fears than a spontaneous exulsion of mirth and their drunkenness seemed but a garment thrown over the head to shut out the approaching specter of Rome in retribution all capua presented to her the spectacular results of a turbulent democracy exalted to power for the vagaries of the Roman plebeians seemed as nothing beside the unbridled insolence of the populace here was Pesuvius Calavius who had triumphed by their aid over a senate more than half in sympathy with Rome and now recognizing his litter they thronged around it calling out familiar greetings or even sheer vulgarities pulling the curtains aside kissing their hands to him and from time to time compelling his bearers to pause slobbered drunken kisses upon his garments in person no sign of true respect greeted their leader it seemed as if the mob recognized him only as the creature of its whim to be upheld as a facile puppet or cast down by the first savage gust of discontent as for Calavius himself he too fell readily into the part assigned to him his face was wreathed in a constant smile his lips spoke only compliments his hands waved greetings until at last Marcia laid back and closing her eyes refused to see more of her host's degradation suddenly the litter bearers paused and set down their burdens in distance the journey had been short but the many enforced halts had made it seem as if the whole city had been traversed they were now before the porch of a house that was if possible even more magnificent than that of Calavius every column was twined with garlands flowers hung in festoons from the architrave incense streamed up from the brazen tripod set on either side of the entrance in front and around the entire insula the streets were packed dense with a seething crowd save only for a small space before the vestibule where was stationed a guard of Africans equipped in the manner of Roman legionaries these were rude wiry soldiers scornful of civilians in their fancied rites but above all contemptuous of the soft companion mob that irrigated so much and could command so little at first the populace had tried to browbeat and play with them the soldiers had sallied out into the street and killed a couple of the most talkative wounding half a dozen more the cowardly kapoon stand back in awe giving passage wherever the strangers called for it and hardly daring to whisper among themselves as to what manner of rule they had invited to destroy them were it not for this summary treatment it is doubtful whether any of the guests would have been able to gain entrance at least of all Calavius who was looked upon as their peculiar creation and mouthpiece and at whom a hundred complaints were volleied by the aces, be it said, as he made his slow way through the press glad to escape at last from a position at once embarrassing and dangerous he now made haste to escort Marcia between the files of foreign guards into the atrium where the nine Isolaries, smiling hosts had stationed themselves to receive the guests that had been bid in to so important a festivity thence he led her, muffled as she was, to a vestarium opening to the left side where were already some half dozen women were adding the finishing graces to toilets disarranged in the litters one of these was assigned to Marcia's aid but a few touches to her hair and a slight readjustment of the cyclist were all that were needed meanwhile the Roman was watching with deep interest, the group in the court of the atrium she had taken a position from which she could have an unobstructed view through the doorway and her attendant had evidently informed herself as to the identity of the strangers and was anxious to win approval by communicating her knowledge but as 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 a man? who would imagine him of any consequence at all? while the girl spoke Marcia was regarding earnestly and for the time the chief of Carthage, the conqueror of Trivia and the Trimasius and Cannae and Sanpronius, and Flamenius and Varo, she saw a man slightly above the middle height, well built and strong aquiline figures and thick black, curling beard and hair though the latter was worn away at the temples by constant pressure of the helmet it was a face that combined deep thought immeasurable pride and absolute self-poise and inscrutability a face that would have been handsome but for the disfiguring effect of the eye lost in the marshes of the harness perhaps it was just this that lent it something of its prevailing expression of sadness perhaps it was a realization of responsibilities met and to be met and a premonition of the inevitable end his dress was, as the maid had so cornfully commented, plain in the extreme a striking contrast of the celebrated magnificence of his armor and military equipment now a simple white tunic-like garment relieved by a narrow border of gold descended to his feet while a slender gold fillet was his sole ornament in addition to the seal finger ring and heavy 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 or slurring comments there was Hasdrubal, coarse-featured middle-sized and corpulent whose garments gleamed with purple and gold and whose ears, fingers, and neck glittered with a perfusion of jewels him, Marcia's informant evidently regarded with admiration approaching to awe although his skill as a manager of the commissariat and his exploits as a soldier when occasion demanded were probably unknown to her Maharbal, slight and agile with plain dark robe and a few jewels the best high diadem of plumes and a beard worn forked in the Numidian fashion attracted but passing comment he was doubtless of savage 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 his dark ferocious face towered above the heads of his companions the woman's voice sank to a whisper as she said that is the one they call Hannibal the fighter they say he never spares an enemy that he eats the flesh of those he kills may the gods grant that my masters wean him tonight from the love of such hideous barbaric fare and yet, with all their horror Marcia almost smiled to note how the girl looked upon this brute with more of a woman's feeling for a man she bestowed upon any of his better favorite and more famous compatriots from these four the Roman's eyes wandered to a fifth Carthaginian who seemed to complete the tale of guests of this nationality her informant had passed him by in silence and had gone on to point out Jubilis Tarrera Prasuvius Calavius and his son Perola the only companion's present beside the host of the occasion when the category was completed however she called the maid's attention to the omission he said the latter lightly the man in the violent tunic, he is nothing a priest of one of their gods whom they call Melcharth he was a tall gaunt man and he stood directly behind Hannibal he was fixed upon the pavement as if studying the intricacies of its mosaic pattern Selenius the Greek red oar made the last of the group and now, at a signal from the hosts the company turned and followed them in single file towards 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, the summons came walls, floors, ceilings every part of the house through which they passed were festooned and superlaid suddenly they found themselves at the entrance of the great banquet hall where two tricinia were set facing each other with room for the servants to pass between and minister to the wants of the feasters at the table to the east, that of honor reclined Steneus Ninius in the middle place of the middle couch with Hannibal himself at his right the place of honor above all Marcia was led to the head of the lowest couch next to the Carthaginian leader where she found Pesuvius Calavius reclining below her as the phrase went while on the couch directly opposite lay the priest of Melcharth in the lowest place and Perola in the highest the other places below Pesuvius between Steneus and the priest and between the priest and Perola were assigned to the women while the other table of which Pesuvius Ninius presided were arranged in similar fashion end of section 19 section 20 of the lions brood this is a Librivox recording all Librivox recordings are in the public domain for more information or to volunteer please visit Librivox.org recording by Tom Mack Tucson, Arizona the lions brood by Duffield Osborne section 20 the banquet Marcia had felt an instinctive shrinking when she saw that the women also were to recline after the manner of the disillusioned Greeks instead of sitting as she had been taught to consider the only decent posture for a Roman maid or matron then the thought of her mission brought the blush surging to her cheeks whence it receded leaving them pale with a sterner resolve was not love of a country the greatest virtue it was time to school herself to shrink at nothing in that cause as she took her place she noticed that the priest of Macarlath who lay directly opposite had been regarding her fixedly she could see his face now and it was not a pleasing one the Semitic features fine and noble in their best form but capable of greater depths of degeneration than those of any other type were in this case exaggerated to an extreme degree of coarseness the mouth was large and badly formed the forehead low the small eyes peered out snake-like from under heavy puffy lids the nose alone was cut with any measure of fineness and that projected wide nostrils and aquiline as the beak of a bird of prey it would have been difficult to imagine a face more gross and sensual in its lines and the look of low admiration and eagerness which it now wore was well calculated to bring out the sensuality in its most repulsive form Marcia felt her cheeks burning under the fixness of the man's gaze and looking down she struggled to compose herself by a close study of the gorgeous cover lid of the couch a fine Campanian texture dyed scarlet and heavily embroidered with figures of birds and beasts and flowers worked into an elaborate design even then his eyes seemed to burn through her hair through her brain down into her heart and she found her will revolting more violently than ever against the possibilities involved in her mission the voice of Hannibal addressing some conventional compliment to Stineus upon the perfection of the arrangements came as an intense relief for the others all turned toward the speaker and a moment later the slaves passed around with silver basins and drawers pouring centered water upon the hands of the guests and drying them with dainy flickings of flimsy napkins vessels of gold and silver and fine earthenware burdened the tables while at each end of the garden stood a butler in charge of several large amphorae those at the north end were half buried amid imitation mountains peaked with real snow while those at the south were surrounded by more than tropical verger with the braziers and vessels of heart water beside them ready for mixing the warm drafts and now the slaves hurried hither and thither bearing costly dishes with elaborately dressed vivans dormants stewed with honey and poppy seeds becafiso surrounded by yolks of eggs seasoned with pepper and made to resemble pea fowls eggs in a nest whereupon the stuffed bird was sitting fish floating in rich gravies that spouted from the mouths of four tritons at the corners of the dish crammed fowls hairs fitted with wings to resemble pegasus thrushes in pastry stuffed with raisins and nuts, oysters, scallops snails on silver grid irons boar stuffed with field fairs with baskets of figs and dates hanging from his tusks sweet meats cold tarts with Spanish honey these and a hundred other dishes strange or costly followed each other in quick succession and all the while the carvers flourished their knives in time with the music now of instruments again of choruses of boys and girls the butlers too had not been idle and the cups were constantly replenished first with the form and later with the cold mixtures yet though both men and women ate greedily and drank deeply a gloom seemed to hang over the feast the Carthaginians whether influenced by native dignity or by a real or simulated contempt for their hosts were reserved and silent while the Capuans seemed at one moment forcing themselves into strained merriment and at another cowering before the cold eyes that watched their efforts with scarcely veiled indifference with fear on the one side and distrust upon the other the chances for hilarity and good fellowship looked scanty enough yet Stenius Ninius was too much a man of the world to yield readily to untoward social conditions clapping his hands he cried out as the head butler bowed before him now my good Capudox let us have no more of these native vintages good though they were they but served to cultivate the taste for the wines that cement friendships such as ours henceforth poor for us only the Cone, the Cudian and Thasian and see that you select those Amphora whose contents are toothless with age a rough laugh rolled up from the other table and the voice of Hannibal the fighter broke out with it is well said, host truly I was wondering if we had been drinking from the famous sellers of Capua we washed our horses with better wine in the north, Stenius flushed then he smiled and, Capudox, he went on in an unruffled voice do you send what remains in my cellar of the vintages we have been drinking to the horse of my worthy guest at the giant's discourteous words Hannibal himself had started from the mood of thought in which he had seemed well nigh buried a quick glance shot from his eye and his brow furrowed then the courtly answer of Stenius relieved the situation and he turned to his host you must pardon rough words to rough soldiers my friend we of Carthage have had but slender chances to avail ourselves of Greek culture and urbanity we are mere merchants and warriors not men of letters or social manners the hulking savage grew purple and trembled under the rebuke of his chief twice he essayed to speak and then discreetly gulp down the words for Hannibal's face though calm and courtly showed a hardening of his lines which meant munch to those who knew him as for the companion he raised his hands in valuable deprecation of the apology did he not realize that but for soldiers and merchants letters and social manners would never have come into being it was the privilege of so brave a warrior as Hannibal the fighter to say what he pleased and when and where ordinary rules were only for little men besides of companion wines were truly all too poor for heroes whose souls were already attested to the nectar of the gods the suppressed fury and shame of the offender melted away under the balm of these honeyed words and laughing loudly with some constraint he tossed off to his host a cup of wine last brought and now Hannibal seemed to shake himself loose from the bonds of silence and thought though the conversation still showed the trend of his mind he turned to Calavius 30,000 foot and 4,000 horse form an excellent array and yet I should imagine that the second city in Italy could do even better in case of need the attention of hosts and guests became tense at once though Marcia could note that the motives were diverse. Calavius seemed nervous and flustered there was a time when that was undoubtedly so my lord he said hastily but now many of our young men have fallen in the wars and many are serving with the enemy unable to escape and doubtless in serious danger 300 horsemen interrupted Hannibal dryly and my spies inform me that they are likely to continue serving Rome by choice as would doubtless many of your well born at home like this fellow Magius and his brow darkened ominously the companions moved uneasily on the couches Magius is a traitor and will be dealt with in due seasons said Stenius it is friends and festivities first with us and enemies and punishments later yes Magius shall be dealt with echoed Hannibal but the acquiescence brought no relief to his hearers why should he feel it necessary to supplement their assurance so significantly did not the treaty between Carthage and Capua provide the Capuan laws and magistrates should still govern all Capuans why should he speak so markedly of their military power did not the treaty expressly state that no Capuan was to be called upon for military duty except by his own rulers Colavius had been signaling vigorously to his son Parola who had reclined silent and gloomy but who now seemed about to speak disregarding his father's warning the young man broke in it is idle to deny the companion horse serve willingly with Rome and will continue so to serve as for Decius Magius there are many good men here who hold with him but who lack his boldness for an instant everyone held his breath in terror of the coming outburst but those whose angry or frightened eyes first ventured to glance toward the captain general saw his face wreathed in smiles and his wine cup raised toward the daring speaker happiness to you flower companion youth and know that there are two things that Hannibal prizes most among men a friend who was once an enemy and a friend who dares to speak the truth Colavius had recovered his composure during this speech I would not have you imagine my lord he began but that my son speaks as he believes and in order that you may have full information yet he is ill today in body and mind and even were it not so I am older and wiser than he and no more of men that Decius Magius has sympathizers it is vain to deny but that there are many or influential I know who the Capuans of Ur is not the case as for our horsemen it is easy to see that there are safety demands on apparent friendship for Rome it is not wise for 300 to revile 30,000 Hannibal had continued to keep his gaze upon parola scarcely listening to his father's words in the young man's face something of surprise had mingled with his half defiant half moody expression I do not ask of you my son pursued the general that you whose heart was but lately with our enemies should love and trust us at once you were the part of a hypocrite and I honor you both for the filial piety that threw down your preference before your father's will and for the slowness with which your heart follows your act grant me but this that you judge us fairly by our deeds and if we prove not better friends than Rome return to them in peace and safety meanwhile there is a horse with crimson feet that shall be led from my stable to yours in the morning ride him and remember that Hannibal honors courage, filial obedience and truth all in like measure subdued applause from both tables followed these words but the face of parola lost but little of its stubborn hostility Hannibal turned away and Calavius and Ninius however by eager talking the young man's ungracious reception of such signal favor the faces of the Carthaginians remain for the most part impassive only their dark eyes seemed to sparkle either with wine or suppressed passion Marcia still felt that one pair was trying to look through her and she was conscious that Salenius the Sicilian Greek making eager and in decorous love to one of the women at the other table another of the latter had just ventured on some light bandage with the chief guest in whose face smiles had chased away all the abstraction of the earlier hours he answered her as lightly but with indifference and turned to Marcia and what says our Roman beauty he asked she has come boldly and far to see her enemies who knows but she has a boon to beg again Marcia noted disturbance under Calavius's smile he was wondering at the general's knowledge then he realized that Mago's report must be its basis and his face cleared yes truly I have a boon to ask replied Marcia fixing her great eyes upon the bearded front stern through its smiles it is that you will spare one house in Italy from ravage and destruction and where may this house be he asked in bantering tones we shall leave many standing but this one most surely of all it is upon the brow of the Palatine hill she began and then a burst of applause gave notice that the compliment had struck home it is my father's she concluded blushing Calavius was in ecstasy over the graceful tact of his protege no capoean or Greek could have done better Hannibal eyed her with a curious expression half admiring half doubtful I grant the boon freely he said then fixing her with his gaze he went on and when will you claim it the son of Hamaclar knows best replied Marcia casting down her eyes and again she felt the approval of her his friends that Hannibal was pleased and flattered was evident and yet there was a certain reserve in his manner possibly he suspected that she wished to provoke an announcement of his plans perhaps an even deeper insight led him to a fuller conception of her purpose yes it is truly for us to say he said loudly glancing around the board then turning quickly to Marcia I understand that I will also delay until spring to my brother Mago why? so Frank a question so different from all that had been told of the more than Oriental craft of the Carthaginians and one that went so straight to the motive of her presence through Marcia into some confusion Calavius noticed it and fearing less she might say something to do away with the impression of her former tact surely we shall not insult my lord Bacchus by a council of war in his presence but Hannibal waved his hand toward him and looked fixedly at Marcia goddesses may speak on all subjects at all times and the gods smile that my words she began with eyes still cast down were deemed worthy to be born to my lord an honor that he should deem them worthy of thought is beyond the dream of mere woman then glancing up and smiling wistfully into his face she went on know that whatever of judgment born of knowledge of the place and the men has come to me a girl that and more is for the service of the great general of Carthage the benignant liberator of Italy why do you advise delay ask Hannibal again and the eyes of Maribel glittered as he leaned over from the other table there are those who say I have delayed too long already for this replied Marcia boldly that you may save your soldiers and your allies that they may lie in rest and luxury and that air springtime the cities of the Latin name yes truly and the very rabble of Rome shall come to you on their knees for leave to bear the horse heads along the sacred way up the capitoline slope in the spring why not now Maribel and Hannibal the fighter made a clucking sound of ascent Hastrabal and the other guests seemed indifferent but the capwins were hanging on Marcia's words because the time is not ripe she began words cried her questioner cutting off her speech I asked why frightened at his vehemence but put to it of necessity she answered because there are stripes and bickering at Rome throughout the Latin name that must soon bear the fruit of civil strife the nobles grind and hold to their privileges the commons serve and starve look to carthage for aid how shall these things grow better while you hold the garden of Italy while the Greeks of the south and the Samnites and the men of the soil gather behind you on one side and the Gauls and Truscans muster in the north the water is eating at the mole soon the waves will lash up and sweep it from its foundations Hannibal eyed her closely for a moment then he said there are those in Rome and among the Latin name who tell me otherwise they are good men and they know perhaps I have been even too cautious you are young and beautiful hold fast to matters suited to youth and beauty and leave the conduct of wars and statecraft men turning to Stenius he went on if this Likudian wine of yours my Stenius were let into the veins of those who lie dead at Cannae they would be fit to rise and do battle again Stenius bowed and smiled Marcia grew red and then pale with shame and vexation seeing how her plots were like to fall and crush her but at this moment the voice of Hannibal the fire rose from the other table flushed with wine he was boasting of his slain for a trivia he cied out seven at Tarrasimus eighteen at Cannae but all men it is better to slay the wolves whelps if only to teach women that it is no longer wise to bring forth Romans I I who speak have already killed eleven boys ah but you must wait till we enter Rome then will be the day when they shall build new cities in Hades the Carthaginians heard him with indifference the Capuans all saved Perola applauded nervously and Marcia grew sick at heart and mad with a rage that could almost have strangled the giant as he reclined and now began Nenius mildly when there was a moment's silence that we may better enjoy what is to come there are baths and attendants and the red feather will make way for new feastings at the end of two hours slaves had run in to assist the diners from their couches the Capuans with dreams of relief refreshment and re-repletion the Carthaginians bored but striving to be polite and to follow the customs of their entertainers even Hannibal while his smile was half a frown permitted himself to be led away filled with disgust and despair Marcia felt herself all unfit to begin a new revel one that was to be made possible by the loathsome practices as yet unknown at Rome and which bade fair to end in aimless and hideous debauchery the women were but warming to their part when the summons of Stinius Ninius had proclaimed a truth with Bacchus and Venus a truth with promise of more deadly battle to be joined she had seen glances hot with wine and lust clasping of hands loosened cyclas and more lavacious reclinings the gloomy Perulia had yielded a little to the soft influences and even Hannibal seemed to force himself to toying if only in the name of courtesy while through it all and more and more as the light of day advanced Marcia felt the eyes of Ithelcar priest of Melcharth burning into her soul he at least gave no heed to nearer blandishments and terror and loathing filled her in equal measure a faintness a sudden weakness born of her recent journey served for excuse which Calavia seemed not unwilling to voice and surrounded by a guard of slaves her litter bore her back to his house through streets littered with drunken men and flucked with the figured robes of courtesans end of section 20 by Tom Mack section 21 of The Lion's Brood this is a LibriVox recording all LibriVox recordings are in the public domain for more information or to volunteer please visit LibriVox.org recording by Rutherford Osborne The Lion's Brood by Duffield Osborne section 21 Allies Night had come again before Marsha could arouse herself from the deep sleep with which exhaustion of mind and body had overwhelmed her she remembered the scenes of the banquet as the phantasms of a dream strange and terrible for her thoughts were slow to gather the threads and weave the wolf only a feeling of failure of fruitless abasement was ever present Hannibal had admired her but proof against any controlling attraction he had put her words aside with little short of contempt a dread even lest the strange acumen of this wonderful man had pierced her mask and that her very motive and mission were already suspected was not lacking to add dismay to discouragement such thoughts were but wretched company and they brought with them a vague conception of her own vain egotism in imagining the possibility of other outcome she tried to sleep again but could not what mattered it though by some shifting of hours her day had become night and her night day she must arise and talk with someone if it were only the host whom she so hardly despised attendance entered at her summons and the refreshment of the bath and the labor of the toilet were once more passed through then dismissing the slaves she walked out alone into the garden and sat down on a softly cushioned seat of carved marble a fountain splashed soothingly in the foliage nearby the stars were shining again while from without the jarring sounds of the city came to her ears how long she sat awake yet thinking of nothing dull and dazed she could not tell then she was aroused by a sandaled step upon the pavement a man was standing before her whose face, despite its youthful contours was deep lined in melancholy he was short of stature and slenderly though gracefully built and his black curls clustered over brow and eyes that seemed rather those of a poet or a dreamer than of a man of action in the somber dark blue garments of morning without ornaments or jewels so different from the gay banqueting robes in which she had last seen him Marsha gazed a moment before she recognized Perola the son of Pachuvius you are not pretty tonight, Seyla he said tauntingly though you left us early there are dark circles under the eyes that look kindly at the enemy of your country Marsha flushed crimson and he went on yes I watched you smiling and ogling but it will take greater traitors than you to snare him he is like Minos in that he did not reach out to take from your hands the purple lock shorn from your father's head he is not like him otherwise he is not just and he will not give honorable terms you at least are faithful to Rome said Marsha slowly and ignoring his insults can you ask he answered is it that you wish to betray me well then know truly that I have betrayed myself to your heart's content do you not see the morning garments I wear for my city's faithlessness and for her coming ruin have you not heard how my father dragged me from the side of Desius Magius in the marketplace that I might attend the banquet but you have not heard how I had planned to startle them all Marsha began to wonder what I was talking with a madman shall I tell she made a sign of assent it was toward evening they have but just risen from the tables now then it was to seek the red feathers for the third time but I led my father back among the rose bushes and showed him a sword which I had girded to my side beneath my tunic this said I when us pardoned from Rome look you when we return I will plunge it into the Carthaginians breast Marsha bent forward eagerly and then he went on my father bound my arms to my sides with his own around me and wept and talked of our recent pledges to these foreigners can they outweigh our ancient pledges to Rome I answered so he pleaded how the attendants would surely cut me down and mentioned Hannibal's look which he affirmed I would not be able to confront but I laughed and made little of these things then he spoke of the hospitable board which I admitted had something of reason and finally when he had declared that the sword must reach Hannibal only through his own breast then at last from filial duty mark you I threw the weapon from me telling him that he had betrayed his country thrice in revolting from Rome in a lying with foreigners and now in turning aside the instrument of escape then we returned to the banquet but my father trembled and ate and drank no more there now is a story to tell your city's destroyer if you betray me perhaps he may yet love you Marsha viewed him sternly truly your father was right when he said you were ill in mind yes ill in mind and in heart how then do you recognize one whose heart is sicker than your own Perola looked at her inquiringly and she went on you have a city that has been false to itself and is in danger of punishment a father too if you will my city has already suffered every evil but destruction my brother and he to whom Juno was about to lead me have been killed by these pulse eaters are such things the benefits that go to make friendship and love for the slayers say rather hate and the cravings for revenge yes said Perola they are indeed evils but less than mine in that they are past and is Rome safe do you think she asked quickly Rome will conquer he said doggedly unless there be many more traders like you fool she cried grasping his wrist can you not see you who claim to be a philosopher and to have Greek blood you at least should have understood my words he gazed at her vacantly and she began to regret her vehemence it came to her mind that this was not altogether a safe man to trust with her secret faithful he was no doubt but a fool might be even more dangerous than a trader still she had said too much to be silent and she felt the need of some ally to whom she could talk upon whom she could at least pretend to lean when the weight of her burden was heaviest I have told you what I have lost what I dread to lose now learn what I am here to gain for many days after the black news of Cannae I heard them talking in my father's house talking of the advance of the insolent victors and of the paltry defense we could oppose the certain destruction that awaited us still they were brave old men and boys the soldiers were dead but we set to work training new shaping them alike out of youth and age and bond men and the slayers of our citizens delayed and we gained strength and courage in every temple of the twelve gods it was the same prayer by day and night grant us delay grant us that the winter may find him in the south at last came the news that he was advancing to Capua and rumors of a Carthaginian party in the city from Capua seized with all its engines of war was but a few days to Rome then I took a resolve and made a vow tell me am I beautiful beautiful as Venus know then that I have dedicated this beauty to her that she may guard Rome and avenge me upon Rome's enemies he shook his head stupidly Minerva does not favor me lady he replied for I do not understand your words listen she went on with the earnestness of desperation he shall love me he or one who can sway him and they shall play the laggards here until the winter gives us time and time brings safety he understood her now but still he shook his head if you speak truth he said slowly you speak foolishness as well Hannibal will love no mistress but Carthage and there is no man living who shall sway him by a hair's breath now I see why you spoke to him of plots at Rome and of the wisdom of delay a woman to make game of him and he threw back his head and laughed do you imagine he has not divined your plot give him your beauty if you will he will take it doubtless if he have time and march north forthwith after you have confessed your little plottings beneath the hot tweezers only one thing shall stay him steel and in the hands of man not blandishments in the mouth of a girl Marsha was in despair and is there no help she cried for me a Roman woman from you a friend of Rome surely we shall be stronger together even if our plots are different two plans are better than one before he could frame his answer they heard footsteps coming toward them and then a man enveloped in the brown cloak of a slave pushed aside the foliage and glided out into the moonlight parola wheeling about had half drawn his sword while Marsha shrunk back into the shadow put up your sword my parola said the newcomer speaking in low tones and throwing aside his mantle desius magius by all the gods cried the young man but why are you disguised because my friend said magius slowly capua is no longer free because spies of the carthaginian and of our senate are watching my house making ready to seize me desius magius can no longer walk in his own city clad in his own gown and tomorrow doubtless he cannot walk at all therefore I wish to speak with you and I have put on this disguise in order that I might gain your house unobserved and that your father might not die of fright learning me to be here but how did you enter how find me I entered my parola because your porter like every slave in capua is drunk tonight and because the boy whom he left to keep the gate was only enough awake to mumble that you were in the garden parola frowned then suddenly he remembered marsha concerning whom his suspicions were not yet entirely removed and he raised his hand in warning there is a woman here a roman woman who tells a strange story he whispered it is better to be discreet the time for discretion is past for desius magius said the other wearily let him at least speak freely upon his last night of freedom marsha came forward is it permitted a roman made to honour a companion who is true to his city's faith assuredly daughter replied magius quietly she could not see his face except that it was stern and grey bearded but kneeling down beside him she took his hand and poured out of her life her sorrow her resolve and its prosecution here at least was a man upon whose faith and judgment she could rely and his manner grew more gentle as she made an end of speaking so you doubted her truth my parola he said softly that is because you have not felt her hand tremble and because you are too young and too much of a philosopher to judge of the honesty of a woman's face the same instinct that tells me doubtless warned Hannibal also that this was not a courtesan much less an immodest woman well born and least of all a coward who would flee her city or a traitress who would betray it you will know more of such things my parola when you learn to study them less then turning to marsha he went on what you have designed my daughter is noble and worthy of your race and yet while I commend I am slow to encourage are you strong to carry your sacrifice to the utter most marsha shuttered yes if there be need she said in a low voice I look to no marriage now is not the republic worthy of our best it is a hard thing he said doubtfully for a woman well born and modest to belong to a man she hates but it is easy to die my father as died Lucretia desius magius looked at her several times his lips moved as if about to speak and once he turned away sharply for a moment as if to gaze up into the night tell me my father she said earnestly do you give me no hope is not my beauty worth a purchase of a few paltry months and then comes the winter bringing safety still magius said nothing for several minutes and when he spoke it was in harsh quick tones yes it is all possible as you say it Hannibal to surrender his plans for a woman cried scornfully surely my desius you jest do you not know him that only the gods can turn him from his purpose marsha had wheeled about with flashing eyes and face the last speaker you have shown me the way she cried it is the gods who shall delay him parola gazed at her astonishment as at one gone mad but magius nodded and frowned it is the best chance he said slowly the only one still manerva does not favor me said parola shaking his head but marsha went on in a high nervous voice and with a gait that made the older man draw his cloak up to his face in pity come my philosopher you are indeed stupid tonight if you did not observe it at the house any you should have heard me just now when I told the story of the banquet to my lord desius it is idilkar the priest of melcharth who shall bring his god to be my ally romes ally idilkar who could not so much as take his eyes from me through all their feasting there is the man who will prefer my beauty even to his gods favor may your Hannibal will not wage war against the auspices the face of magius was still shaded by his cloak and he said nothing but over the features of the younger man came strange expressions first amazement then horror then a look which had something of horror but more of yearning he held out his hands in supplication no no he cried you shall not do it you are too beautiful first I hated you when I dreamed you to be but a courtesan traitorous now oh gods favor me listen you shall not do it it is I who will kill him yes and you also first and turning suddenly away he staggered then as magius raised his hand to support him he shook himself free and ran furiously into the house Marsha turned to magius in astonishment and he smiled sadly even philosophers are not proof he said and you are very beautiful and he is young and half a greek she blushed and the grim senator took her hand may the gods grant my daughter that your sacrifice be not for nothing you have spoken wisdom but he is a madman as for me I am as one who is dead farewell he dropped her hand and she felt rather than heard or saw him go only her voice would not obey her when she strove to detain him if but for a moment the only man in capoe whom she could honor upon whom she could rely surely he would not desert her thus yes he was gone then she ran several steps in the direction he had taken and called though she dared not call his name until a female attendant came herring to answer her my lord parola said the girl had but just rushed out into the street as if possessed of a demon as for a strange slave she had observed no one but if such there was doubtless he had slipped by the porter's boy who was worthless marsha groped her way to her sleeping apartment harshly brushing aside an offer of aid once alone she threw herself down upon the couch and burst into a torrent of moans and sobs the girl who had followed hesitatingly listened in the hallway nodding her head with conscious satisfaction and so the roman woman loved for all they were said to be so grand and stern what a fool this one was though to prefer the son to the father who was much richer and who being old would doubtless realize the necessity of being more generous and she went back to the slaves apartments laughing softly to herself end of section 21