“That’s enough,” I said. “Sell the girl if you wish, but she must be sold to a good man who will take care of her.”
Hanna had slumped to the ground, hanging by her wrists, and sobs shook her body although she tried to control them. Arsinoe stamped her foot and her eyes were round.
“Don’t interfere, Turms! The girl must confess who has raped her and with how many she has slept and where she has hidden the money that she has earned. It is our money and we can collect something from the rapist if we threaten him with legal action.”
At that I slapped Arsinoe across the face. It was the first time that I had hit her and I was frightened by it myself. Arsinoe turned pale and her face twisted, but to my surprise she remained calm.
When I took out my knife to free Hanna, Arsinoe signaled to the slave and said to me, “Don’t cut the costly thongs. Let the slave open the knots. If the girl is so dear to you that you don’t want to know what happened, so be it. Let her be led immediately to the cattle market to be sold. I myself will accompany her there to make certain that she finds a respectable master, even though she doesn’t deserve one. But you have always been tender-hearted and I must obey your wishes.”
Hanna raised her face from the ground, her eyelids swollen from weeping. She had bitten her lips raw, for despite the flogging she had refused to divulge a word although it would have been easy for her to name me as the one who had led her down the wrong path. But her glance was not accusing. She merely opened her eyes as though in joy that she could see me defending her.
A cowardly relief came over me when I caught her glance and it did not occur to me that Arsinoe might be untrustworthy. Nevertheless I felt sufficiently skeptical to ask, “Do you swear to look out for the girl’s good even though it means getting a lower price for her?”
Arsinoe looked me in the eye, took a deep breath and assured me, “Of course I swear it. The price makes no difference so long as we get rid of the girl.”
One of the household slaves brought her the large stole worn by Roman women and draped it over her head and shoulders. The stable slave pulled Hanna to her feet, tossed a rope around her neck and so they departed through the gate, the slave first, leading Hanna by the rope, and Arsinoe last, tightly wrapped in her stole.
I ran after them, touched Arsinoe’s shoulder and begged in a tearchoked voice, “At least take down the name and city of the purchaser so that we will know where Hanna is.”
Arsinoe paused, shook her head and said gently, “Turms dear, I have already forgiven you, for I understand your ugly behavior. Apparently it is as though you had to let some beloved animal be killed because of sickness. In such a case, doesn’t the kind master entrust the deed to a dependable friend without seeking to know how and where it happens or where the carcass is buried? For your own sake it is better that you don’t know where the girl goes. Trust me, Turms. I will take care of everything for you since you are so sensitive.”
She brushed my cheek with her hand and hastened after the slave. I had to admit that Arsinoe’s words sounded reasonable, but doubt gnawed at my heart and I felt guilty no matter how I tried to persuade myself that as an Elymian Hanna was innately wanton. Otherwise she would not so readily have flung herself into my arms. It would be better for me if I thought no more of the matter.
In that Arsinoe helped me, for when she returned that afternoon she was so considerate that she did not even mention the price that she had obtained for Hanna. Nor did she say one word about the matter even later. That in itself should have made me suspicious, but instead it helped me to forget. So settled was I in everyday life in Tcrtius Valerius’ house.
4.
It was probably meant that I should struggle within walls for the nine long and certainly hard years indicated by the ravens, so that I would better learn to know life and achieve the proper age. That is undoubtedly why Arsinoe was ordained to be my companion, for it is doubtful whether any other woman would have succeeded in keeping me fettered to the earth and everyday life for such a long period. Indeed, it was because of her that Tertius Valerius took me aside one day to talk to me in his kindly old man’s way.
“My dear son Turnus,” he said amiably, “you know that I am fond of you and that your wife’s presence brightens my old days. But my illness in the forum was a healthy reminder of mortality. You yourself know that any day I may fall lifeless to the ground. And that is why I am so concerned about your future.
“You see, dear Turnus,” he continued in his quavering voice, “as much as I like you, permit me as an old man to say that the life you are leading is not worthy of a man. You must brace yourself. You have looked around long enough to understand Roman customs and you even speak the language better than some Sabine or other person who has been transplanted here to increase the population. You can pass for a Roman as well as anyone else if you but choose.”
He shook his head, smiled with wrinkled eyes and observed, “You probably think, as I do, that this is a brutal and merciless city. I myself would wish it to return to Saturn’s power, but the war god’s wolf is the suckler of Rome. The gods have decreed it and we can only submit. I don’t consider all Rome’s principles correct or its wars just. Greed is our weakness and we do not wish to yield even a portion of our land until we are compelled to do so.”
Again he shook his head, laughed and said, “Forgive an old man if I stray from the subject and return to the same old matter that has given me the reputation of a simpleton among my friends and relatives. But right or wrong, Rome is my city and that of my family ever since our progenitor left Volsina one hundred and fifty years ago to build a future for himself in a new land. Only a stupid man tries to turn his mistakes into virtues and rejoices in them. I am not proud of the death of my only sons. It was the bitterest error of my life even though the people point to me in the forum and fathers whisper to their sons, ‘There goes Tertius Valerius, who surrendered his own sons to the lictors to protect Rome from autocracy.’ I don’t turn around to shout that it was a horrible mistake, for it is better that people believe in a lie if it benefits Rome and helps the young to withstand future ordeals. And such there will be.”
His body began to tremble and saliva trickled from the twisted corner of his mouth. Arsinoe entered the room as though she had passed the doorway by chance, wiped the old man’s beard with a linen towel, gently stroked his sparse hair and spoke to me angrily. “Surely you are not tiring our host or distressing him?” Tertius Valerius ceased trembling as soon as he clutched Arsinoe’s hand, looked at her lovingly and said, “No, daughter, he has not been tiring me. Rather, I have tired him. I should remember that I am not speaking in the Senate. I have a proposition to make to you, Turnus. If you wish, I can obtain Roman citizenship rights for you in a fairly good tribus. As a plebeian, of course, but you had sufficient means upon entering the city to meet the property demands for a heavily armored soldier. You cannot enter the cavalry because that is separate, but you can enter the army and you have experience in warfare as your wife has related and your scars prove. There is your opportunity, Turnus. After that, everything depends on yourself. The gate to the temple of Janus is always open.”
I knew that a serious war was expected because the traitor Coriolanus was training the Volscians’ best warriors in Roman battle tactics. I surmised that I could become a Roman citizen by merely petitioning it since I had sufficient means to pay for my arms, and under those conditions I did not need Tertius Valerius’ recommendations. While it is true that he thought of my interests, as a Roman he also thought of the city’s. Even one experienced heavily armored soldier strengthened the army, and as a new citizen I could be expected to fight as well as possible to gain a reputation.