Roma - Saylor Steven (книги полностью .TXT) 📗
“Whenever they came to a girl or a young woman, they struck her with it.”
“Struck her?”
“Yes, Father.” She blushed more furiously than ever. “On her bottom.”
“And did they strike you, daughter—on your bottom?”
“I—I don’t really remember, Father. It was all so frightening, I can’t recall.”
Liar! Potitius wanted to say. He remembered the moment quite clearly. So, he was sure, did his sister. It was Remus who had slapped her bottom, and, far from being frightened, she had run after them, giggling and trying to give Remus’s naked bottom a slap in return. Despite his nervousness, Potitius had to force the grin from his face.
Potitius’s father shook his head. “As I said, an outrage! What’s even more outrageous is the fact that not everyone thinks as we do about this matter.”
“What do you mean, Father?” asked Potitius.
“I was just talking to the elder Pinarius. He seems to be amused by the incident! He says it’s only the older people who find such behavior scandalous. He says that all the young men envy these savage wolflings, and all the young women admire them. You don’t envy them, do you, Potitius?”
“Me? Of course not, Father.” Nervously, Potitius touched the amulet at his neck. He had put on the necklace as soon as he returned home that evening, wanting Fascinus to be near him. To be sure, he was not exactly lying to his father; a man could not envy himself.
“And you, daughter—you don’t admire these troublemakers, do you?”
“Of course I don’t, Father. I despise them!”
“Good. Others may praise these savages, but in this family, there are standards to be upheld. The Potitii set an example for all of Roma. So should the Pinarii, but I fear that our cousins may have forgotten their special standing among the people.” He shook his head. “The identities of two of these wolflings is only too obvious—those scoundrels Romulus and Remus. But who was the third wolfling? What innocent youth did the swineherd’s boys lure into playing this disgusting game with them?” He stared directly at Potitius, who turned pale. “Do you think, my son…do you think it might have been your cousin, young Pinarius?”
Potitius swallowed a lump in his throat. “No, Father. I’m quite sure that it wasn’t Pinarius.”
His father grunted and gave him a shrewd look. “Very well. Enough of this matter. I have something much more important to discuss. It involves you, my son.”
“Yes, Father?” said Potitius, relieved at the change of subject.
The elder Potitius cleared his throat. “As priests of Hercules, we play a very important role among the people. Our judgment in matters of the divine is greatly respected. But there is much that we could still learn when it comes to reading the will of gods and numina. Tell me, my son: When a farmer’s well runs dry, whom does he call upon to pacify the spiteful numen that blocked the spring? When a fisherman wants to find a new fishing spot, whom does he call to mark boundaries in the river and say a prayer to placate the water numina? When a bolt of lightning kills an ox, whom does the oxherd consult to determine whether the blasted flesh is cursed and should be consumed by fire upon an altar, or blessed and should be eaten with rejoicing?”
“If they can afford it, people call for an Etruscan diviner—what the Etruscans call a haruspex.”
“Exactly. Our good neighbors to the north, the Etruscans, are very wise in the ways of divination—and Etruscan haruspices make a very good living at it. But divination is simply a skill, like any other. It can be taught, and it can be learned. There is a school of divination in the Etruscan town of Tarquinia. I am assured that it is the finest of all such schools. I have arranged for you to study there, my son.”
Potitius was silent for a long moment. “But Father, I don’t speak Etruscan.”
“Of course you do.”
“Only enough to barter with Etruscan traders in the market.”
“Then you shall learn to speak Etruscan fluently, and then you shall learn all the Etruscans can teach you about divination. When your studies are done, you will return to Roma as a haruspex, and you will become an important man among the people.”
Potitius felt torn between excitement and a fear of leaving family and friends. “How long will I be gone?”
“I’m told that your studies will take three years.”
“Such a long time! When do I leave, Father?”
“Tomorrow.”
“So soon!”
“The sooner the better. As today’s incident of the wolflings demonstrated all too clearly, there are bad influences among us. I have every faith in your character, my son. Nonetheless, I think it would be best to remove you from those influences, and the sooner the better.”
“But Father, you don’t think—”
“I think that Romulus and Remus must be very persuasive young men. I think their harmful influence might draw even the most upstanding youth into serious trouble. It is my duty as your father to see that such a thing does not happen to you, my son. You will go to Tarquinia. You will obey your instructors in all matters. You will master the Etruscan arts of divination. I suspect you have an aptitude for such things, and the learning will come easily to you. And you will think no more about Romulus and Remus. The swineherd’s brats are good for only one thing—making trouble. They came from nothing and they shall amount to nothing!”
754 B.C.
About his love of learning and his natural aptitude for divination, Potitius’s father proved correct. About the fate of twins, he could not have been more mistaken.
Potitius had been the first youth to fall under the spell of the twins, but he was not the last. The incident of the wolflings greatly elevated their standing among the restless young men of Roma, many of whom were eager to become their companions. Romulus and Remus soon attracted a considerable following, especially among those whom Potitius’s father would have labeled disreputable—young men of obscure family and little means who were not above stealing the occasional cow or shearing a sheep and bartering the wool without its owner’s knowledge.
“They shall come to a bad end,” declared Potitius’s father, glad that his son was away in Tarquinia pursuing his studies. “Romulus and Remus and their little gang think their activities are harmless, that the men they rob are either too wealthy to care or too timid to strike back. But sooner or later, they will cross the wrong man, and that will be the last we see of Romulus and Remus!”
His prediction very nearly came true on the day that Remus and a few companions, venturing farther afield than usual, fell into a skirmish with some shepherds in the vicinity of Alba, a town in a hilly region to the southeast of Roma. Unlike the Romans, the Albans had long ago been subjugated to the strongest man among them, who called himself their king and wore an iron crown. The current king of Alba, Amulius, had accumulated a great store of wealth—precious metals, finely wrought jewelry, exotic clay vessels, and woven goods of the highest quality—which he kept inside a gated compound surrounded by high wooden pickets and guarded by mercenary warriors. He lived not in a hut but in a great hall made of wood.
The cause of the skirmish was later a subject of much debate. Many assumed that Remus and his men were trying to steal some sheep and the Alban shepherds caught them; Remus would later declare that it was the shepherds who picked a fight with his men, taunting them with insults to their manhood and slurs against the people of Roma. Whatever the cause, it was Remus who got the worst of the skirmish. Some of his men were killed, some were captured, and a few managed to escape. Remus himself was taken prisoner, bound with iron chains, and led before King Amulius. Remus’s attitude was defiant. The king, who was not used to being crossed, ordered Remus to be hung from a rafter and set about torturing him, using hot irons, sharp blades, and leather whips.
