Roma - Saylor Steven (книги полностью .TXT) 📗
Remus did not attack him. Instead he pointed to the fallen wall with his knife. “There, brother, do you see what your scheming and your lies have accomplished? Are you happy now?”
Romulus stared back at him, dumbfounded.
“You complained that the wall wasn’t high enough,” said Remus. “Look at it now! Any man could jump over it, even a man with a limp.” He took a running start and bounded over the fallen wall, then turned to taunt Romulus further. “What good is a wall, if it won’t stand up? And why won’t it stand? Because the gods are having a joke on you, brother. You’ve angered them. You can lie to me, you can lie to everyone in Roma, but you can’t deceive the gods. They’re laughing at you, brother, just as I’m laughingatyou!”
“The gods are on my side!” shouted Romulus. “You’re the one who’s been wrecking all my hard work. How dare you commit treachery behind my back, then blame it on the gods? How dare you laugh at me?” Romulus cried out in fury, picked up an iron shovel, and rushed at his brother.
The twins were too evenly matched for the fight to quickly go one way or the other. Since his torture, Remus had become the weaker, but he wielded a superior weapon. Romulus’s anger made him clumsy and he swung the shovel wildly, opening himself to Remus’s knife. The glancing cuts he received made him more furious than before, but also more reckless, and the pain sapped his strength. A few times he managed to strike Remus soundly with his shovel, hitting him across the shoulders and hips hard enough to knock him down, but Remus quickly scrambled up, regained his balance, and deftly wielded his knife. At last Romulus struck a blow to Remus’s hand and the blade went flying through the air.
Romulus raised the shovel and stood poised to strike the defenseless Remus with all his strength. As one, those watching drew a sharp breath. But instead of striking, Romulus cried out and cast the shovel aside. He fell on Remus, reaching for his throat, and the two tumbled to the ground.
Potitius clutched his chest. Until that moment, he had truly feared that one of the brothers might kill the other. But now, locked together and fighting with bare hands, they would surely exhaust their fury and come to their senses. He opened his palms to heaven and whispered a prayer to Hercules. As he mouthed the god’s name, he thought he heard it uttered aloud, and turned to see that Pinarius also stood with open palms, whispering a prayer. But for what outcome did Pinarius pray?
The twins rolled on the ground. The advantage shifted back and forth as they savagely pummeled each other, choked each other, and gouged at one another’s eyes.
That day, it was Remus’s turn to wear the iron crown. It was a tight fit. It stayed on his head throughout the combat, until Romulus suddenly reached for it and wrenched it from his brother’s brow. Remus gave a cry and tried to snatch it back. Each twin gripped the crown with both hands. They twisted this way and that until they struggled to their knees, each pulling with all his might at the circle of iron, which seemed to be suspended motionless in the air between them. Their knuckles turned white. Blood oozed from their fingers’ staining the crown red.
Remus lost his grip. His arms flew up and he fell backward. Romulus likewise recoiled, but scrambled back onto his knees. Before Remus could rise again, Romulus raised the crown high in the air and brought it down with all his strength.
Potitius, who had never ceased his fervent, whispered prayers, heard the shattering of bone beneath the broken flesh. The sound was as sharp and earsplitting as the snapping of a branch on a winter day. The blow to Remus’s head was so powerful that it left a dent the size of a man’s fist in his skull.
Romulus was breathing hard, trembling from exhaustion. He stared at his brother’s ruined face for a moment, then staggered to his feet. He fitted the bloody crown on his head. He circled his brother’s body, stamping and shambling like a drunken man, glaring at the circle of shocked faces around him.
He pointed down at Remus. “There! Do you all see? That is what happens to any man who dares to jump over my walls!”
Some in the crowd gasped. Some wept. A few, the most ruthless and bloodthirsty of the vagabonds who had come to Roma to seek Asylum, grunted in savage approval. In the background, Potitius heard the wailing of men still trapped beneath the fallen wall.
Potitius saw great oily spots before his eyes and felt light-headed. The moment became unreal. Somehow the waking world had vanished, and this nightmare had taken its place.
Romulus came to an abrupt halt. His shoulders slumped. His gaze followed the line of his own arm down to his bloody, pointing finger, then down to the crushed face of his brother. His chest began to rise and fall convulsively. He threw back his head, dropped to his knees, and let out a wail such as no man present had ever heard before. Men covered their ears to shut it out. Hearing that wail, it seemed to Potitius that his heart ceased to beat and his blood turned to ice.
Romulus collapsed upon his brother’s corpse, weeping uncontrollably.
Potitius averted his face. He found himself looking at Pinarius, who gazed unblinking at the spectacle of Romulus’s grief. More than ever, Potitius knew that he must be in a nightmare, for how could any man look upon the horror of what Romulus had done and react, as did Pinarius, with a faint smile?
Remus was buried at the summit of the Aventine, at the site where he had searched the sky for vultures. Potitius oversaw the funeral rites. Romulus stood among the mourners. He did not weep. Nor did he speak; it was Potitius who delivered the eulogy. Indeed, Romulus would never speak of his brother again, nor, after the funeral, would he ever allow anyone else to speak the name of Remus in his presence.
It was a curious fact, noted by everyone, that after the death of Remus, the series of setbacks stopped. Construction of the fortifications continued with no further mishaps, and the grand project was quickly finished.
Had Remus been lying to Potitius when he disclaimed responsibility for the mischief? No. Potitius believed that someone else had been responsible, and stopped after the death of Remus so as to make it seem that Remus had been the culprit. That same person had worked to poison the mind of Romulus against his brother, and likewise had incited Remus against Romulus by telling him, on the day of his death, that the contest of vultures had been a sham.
But Potitius had no way of proving these suspicions, and without proof, his ideas counted for nothing; his influence with the king had waned. After the death of Remus, Romulus relied more than ever on the counsel of Pinarius.
It was on the advice of Pinarius that Romulus, as king of Roma, took on more and more of the religious duties of the city—duties which otherwise would have fallen to Potitius. Potitius remained hereditary priest of Hercules and keeper of the Ara Maxima, and would be so for the rest of his life, and from time to time King Romulus still called upon his skills as a haruspex; but more often it was the king, not Potitius, who read the sky for signs of the gods’ favor and determined the will of heaven. And why not? Romulus was himself was the son of a god.
717 B.C.
Romulus was only eighteen years old when he founded the city and became its king. Thirty-six years later, he was still king of Roma.
Much had been accomplished in those years. Many battles had been fought. Most of these had been little more than seasonal raiding parties to take booty from neighbors and to establish Romulus’s dominance over other men who called themselves kings. A more important series of battles recently had been waged against the nearby town of Veii, which tried to claim ownership of the salt beds at the mouth of the Tiber and take control of the salt trade. By force of arms, Romulus forced the Veiians to give up their claims. He established Roma’s supremacy as a salt emporium beyond dispute and assured her continuing prosperity. But Veii had only been bested, not conquered; the city would continue to engage in warfare with Roma for many generations to come.
