Colleen McCullough - 2. The Grass Crown

Whether the passionately unhappy curse of Servilia had any influence with Fate and Fortune or not, Livia Drusa grew to believe it had. For she had come to realize that she was dying, and could find no other reason for it. Four children had she brought into the world without a single complication; why should a fifth change that pattern? Everyone knew they got easier to bear. When the stout little elderly lady appeared in the doorway of her room, Livia Drusa simply stared, wondering who was wasting her ebbing energy on a stranger. The stranger walked inside, her hands outstretched. "I'm your mother, Livia Drusa," the stranger said, sat down on the edge of the bed, and took her girl into her arms. They both wept, as much for the unexpectedness of this reunion as for the lost years, then Cornelia Scipionis made her daughter comfortable, and sat on a chair drawn up close. The already clouding eyes drank in that plain Scipionic face, the matronly garb, the unadorned hair, wondering. "I thought you'd be very beautiful, Mama," she said. "A typical eater of men, you mean." "Father even my brother " Cornelia Scipionis patted the hand she held, smiling. "Oh, they're Livii Drusi what more can one say on that subject? I love life, girl! I always, always did. I like to laugh, I don't take the world seriously enough. My friends numbered as many men as women. Just friends! But in Rome a woman cannot have men friends without half the world at least assuming she has more on her mind than intellectual conversation. Including, as it turned out, your father. My husband. Yet I felt myself entitled to see my friends men as well as women whenever I wanted. But I certainly didn't appreciate the gossip, nor the way your father always believed what the gossipers said ahead of his wife. He never once took my side!" "So you never did have lovers!" Livia Drusa said. "Not in the days when I lived with your father, no. I was more maligned than maligning. Even so, I came to realize that if I stayed with your father, I would die. So after Mamercus was born I allowed your father to think that he was the child of old Mamercus Aemilius Lepidus, who was one of my dearest friends. But no more my lover than any other of my men friends. When old Mamercus asked to adopt my baby, your father agreed at once provided I would go too. But he never divorced me, isn't that odd? Old Mamercus was a widower, and was very glad to welcome the mother of his new adopted son. I went to a much happier house, Livia Drusa, and lived with old Mamercus as his wife until he died." Livia Drusa managed to lift herself off her pillows. "But I thought you had many love affairs!" she said. "Oh, I did, dear girl. After old Mamercus died. For a while, dozens of them. But love affairs pall, you know. They're only a way of exploring human nature if a strong attachment is lacking, which it mostly is. One looks for something, always hoping to find it. But then one day a realization dawns that love affairs are more trouble than they're worth, that the elusive something cannot be found in this way. It's some years now since I've had a lover, actually. I'm happier simply living with my son Mamercus and enjoying my friends. Or I was until Mamercus married." She pulled a face. "I don't like my daughter-in-law." "Mama, I'm dying! I'll never know you now!" "Better the little we have than nothing, Livia Drusa. It isn't all your brother's fault," said Cornelia Scipionis, facing the truth without flinching. "Once I left your father, I made no attempt to try to see you or your brother Marcus. I could have. I didn't." She squared her shoulders, adopted a cheerful mien. "Anyway, who says you're dying? It's almost two months since you had your baby. Too long for him to make you die." "It isn't his fault I'm dying," said Livia Drusa. "I've been cursed. I have the Evil Eye." Cornelia Scipionis stared, astonished. "The Evil Eye? Oh, Livia Drusa, what rubbish! It doesn't exist." "Yes, it does." "Child, it does not! And who is there to hate you enough for that, anyway? Your ex-husband?" "No, he doesn't even think about me." "Who, then?" But Livia Drusa shivered, wouldn't answer. "Tell me!" her mother commanded, sounding every inch a Scipio. "Servilia." It came out as a whisper. "Servilia?" Brows knitted, Cornelia Scipionis worked the name out. "You mean a daughter by your first husband?" "Yes." "I see." She patted Livia Drusa's hand. "I won't insult you by telling you this is all your imagination, my dear, but you must overcome your feelings. Don't give the girl the satisfaction." A shadow fell across her; Cornelia Scipionis turned around to see a tall, red-haired man in the doorway, and smiled at him. "You must be Marcus Porcius," she said, getting up. "I'm your mother-in-law, and I've just had a wonderful reunion with Livia Drusa. Look after her now. I must find her brother.'' Out to the colonnade she went, eyes darting about fiercely until she saw her older son sitting by the fountain. "Marcus Livius!" she said sharply when she reached him. "Did you know that your sister believes herself ill-wished?" Drusus looked shocked. "She doesn't!" "Oh yes she does! By a daughter called Servilia." His lips thinned. "I see." "Now you're not surprised, my son." "Anything but. That child is a menace. Having her in my house is like playing host to the Sphinx a monster capable of organized thought.'' "Is it possible Livia Drusa is dying because she does believe herself cursed?'' Drusus shook his head positively. "Mama," he said, the word slipping out without his noticing it, "Livia Drusa is dying from an injury sustained during the birth of her last child. The doctors say it, and I believe them. Instead of healing, the injury has broken down. Haven't you noticed the smell in her room?'' "Of course. But I still think she believes she's cursed." "I'll get the girl," said Drusus, getting up. "I confess I'd like to see her," said Cornelia Scipionis, and settled back to wait by filling her mind with that slipped "Mama." Small. Very dark. Mysteriously pretty. Enigmatic. Yet so filled with fire and power that she reminded her grandmother of a house built upon a stoppered-up fumarole. One day the shutters would burst open, the roof would fly off, and there she would stand revealed for all the world to see. A seething mass of poisons and scorching gales. What on earth could have made her so unhappy? "Servilia, this is your grandmother, Cornelia Scipionis," said Drusus, not leaving go of his niece's shoulder. Servilia sniffed, said nothing. "I've just been to visit your mother," said Cornelia Scipionis gently. "Did you know that she believes you've cursed her?" "Does she? Good," said Servilia. "I did curse her." "Oh, well, thank you," said the grandmother, and waved her away without any expression on her face. "Back to the nursery!" When he returned, Drusus was grinning widely. "That was brilliant!" he said, sitting down. "You squashed her flat." "No one will ever squash Servilia flat," said Cornelia Scipionis, then added thoughtfully, "Unless it's a man." "Her father has done it already." "Oh, I see. ... I did hear that he refuses to acknowledge any of his children." "That is correct. The others were too young to be affected. But Servilia was heartbroken at the time or I think she was. It's hard to tell, Mama. She's as sly as she is dangerous." "Poor little thing." "Hah!" said Drusus. Cratippus came at that moment, ushering Mamercus Aemilius Lepidus Livianus. Very like Drusus to look at, he yet lacked the power everyone sensed in Drusus. Twenty-seven to Drusus's thirty-seven, no brilliant career as a young advocate in the courts had been forthcoming, no brilliant political future was predicted for him, as it always had been for Drusus. Even so, he had a certain phlegmatic strength his older brother lacked, and the things poor Drusus had had to learn unaided after the battle of Arausio had been offered to Mamercus from birth, thanks to the presence of his mother, a true Cornelian of the Scipionic branch broad-minded, educated, intellectually curious. Cornelia Scipionis shifted up on her seat to make room for Mamercus, who hung back a little shyly when Drusus made no move to welcome him, just gazed at him searchingly. "Be of good cheer, Marcus Livius," their mother said. "You are full brothers. And you must become good friends." "I never thought we weren't full brothers," said Mamercus. "I did," said Drusus grimly. "What is the truth of it, Mama? What you've said to me today, or what you told my father?" "What I've said today. What I told your father enabled me to escape. I make no excuses for my conduct I was probably all you thought me and more, Marcus Livius, even if for different reasons." She shrugged. "I don't have the temperament to repine, I live in the present and the future, never the past." Drusus held out his right hand to his brother, and smiled. "Welcome to my house, Mamercus Aemilius," he said. Mamercus took the hand, then moved forward and kissed his brother on the lips. "Mamercus," he said shakily. "Just Mamercus. I'm the only Roman with that name, so call me Mamercus." "Our sister is dying," said Drusus, not releasing Mamercus's hand when he sat down, his brother next to him. "Oh .. . I'm sorry. I didn't know." “Didn't Claudia tell you?" asked their mother, scowling. "I gave her a detailed message for you." "No, she just said you'd rushed off with Marcus Livius." Cornelia Scipionis made up her mind; another escape was necessary. "Marcus Livius," she said, looking at him with tears in her eyes, “I have given all of myself to your brother for the last twenty-seven years.'' She winked the tears away. “My daughter I will never get to know. But you and Marcus Porcius are going to be left with six children to care for and no woman in the house unless you plan to marry again?'' Drusus shook his head emphatically. "No, Mama, I don't." "Then if you wish it I will come here to live, and look after the children." "I wish it," said Drusus, and turned to his brother with a new smile. "It is good to know I have more family."