Dido Page 10

  And then, just as Elissa was about to return to her work, the queen called her back.

  ‘D’you like dressing up? Did you do it when you were a little girl? Put on your mother’s clothes and walk up and down pretending to be a lady? I did. I did it all the time, as if I were practising for the time when I’d be a queen in Carthage.’

  Elissa blushed. ‘No, lady. My mother . . . well, she didn’t have very many clothes and we were always too busy on the farm.’

  ‘Of course . . . I’m sorry. I should have thought. Then come here and let me dress you up now.’

  ‘Now?’

  ‘Wouldn’t you like to?’

  Elissa nodded, too overcome with joy to speak.

  And then, she reflected, remembering that day now in the darkness and silence of her bed, the queen took off my dress and pulled a robe of white wool over my head and hung me with so many necklaces that I could only just hold my head up: a waterfall of gems spilling over my chest and hanging to my waist. She pulled bracelets on to my arms and put a garland of copper twisted into flowers on my head. And then she made me walk up and down while she clapped and laughed. I did feel like a princess for a while. Elissa turned over in the bed and faced the wall, remembering Dido’s words that day. They had never left her.

  ‘How proud your mother must be to have such a fine daughter . . . Well, now I’m proud of you too. Just as proud as any mother could be.’

  And before I left the room she kissed me, Elissa thought. After I had taken off the clothes and jewels. Those days were long ago, and remembering them filled her with remorse. She had a duty to Dido and she’d failed in that duty. She should never have looked at Aeneas. She ought to have kept away from him. Elissa threw the covers back because the night was too warm. And now he’s all I can think of, she told herself. Aeneas as he was when he first came to the palace. She closed her eyes and remembered the day when she’d gone with him and Dido down to the harbour. That, she thought, was the first time I realized that the two of them would love one another. That was the first time I really understood what jealousy meant.

  ‘Go on, Elissa. She’s waiting for you,’ said Maron. ‘My master says the queen particularly wants you in attendance today.’

  ‘But what about Ascanius?’ Elissa and the boy were in the garden, throwing and catching a painted ball made of the lightest wood. ‘We’re having a good time.’

  ‘I’ll play catch with you later, Ascanius,’ said Maron. ‘That’ll be fun, right?’

  ‘Elissa!’ said the boy, and Elissa smiled.

  ‘You see,’ she said. ‘He’s used to me already.’

  Maron said, ‘That’s true, but you’ve got to go where you’re ordered. You can take over again when you get back from whatever it is the queen wants you for. Go on, she’s waiting.’

  Ascanius had settled down near a patch of earth and was busily building a fort with some pieces of broken tile.

  ‘I can see why you’re so anxious to be rid of me,’ Elissa said. ‘Tanith’s coming, look . . .’

  Maron smiled and said, ‘I did tell her I’d be here in the garden. I suggested she might like to come and play with Ascanius. She seems very fond of him.’

  ‘What are you two talking about?’ said Tanith, hurrying over to where they were standing. She was pink in the face and Elissa wondered how much of that was caused by her almost running from the laundry and how much by her pleasure at the prospect of being alone with Maron.

  She said, ‘We’ve been talking about you, of course.’

  ‘You haven’t! Really? What did you say?’ Tanith directed her question at Maron and he took her by the hand and said, ‘If you come over here to this bench, I’ll tell you. Come on.’

  Tanith followed him quickly, turning her head towards Elissa as she went. She smiled in a way that meant: I’ll tell you what he says to me in our chamber tonight, and the two of them disappeared to sit on a bench half hidden behind some shrubs in a pot.

  ‘Don’t forget you’re supposed to be looking after Ascanius,’ Elissa called.

  ‘We won’t,’ Tanith called back, and Elissa could hear from her voice that she had been interrupted in the middle of kissing Maron. She smiled. How lucky Tanith was . . .

  Elissa ran back into the palace. She’d been enjoying looking after Ascanius, but still, she was happy to think she’d been chosen specially by the queen, and of course, wherever Dido was, Aeneas would be there too, and this prospect made her stomach turn in a peculiar way, as though her guts were trembling and churning. How wonderful to be in his presence, even for a little while.

  The queen had been busy since early morning. One of her handmaidens had already told Elissa that Dido wanted to create the impression that she’d taken no particular trouble with her toilet but always wore her hair in these curls and ringlets, bound with these ribbons, and that she was always dressed in such fine embroidered robes. The truth of it was (and this was how the handmaiden put it), ‘The three of us had to take out almost every garment she possessed and spread them out over the bed so that the queen could decide. She chose a dress in a fabric that matched her eyes – she’s out to enchant someone, that’s for sure.’

  Elissa found Dido and Aeneas in one of the shady rooms off the main courtyard. Mosaics patterned the marble floor and cushions were heaped on the low divans where the two of them were sitting, very close together.

  ‘Thank you for coming, Elissa,’ said Dido, smiling. ‘We’ll soon be going for a walk in the gardens and I would like you to accompany us. I’ve seen very little of you in the last few days. Sit there.’ She pointed at a stool near the door and Elissa obeyed her at once.

  ‘You won’t be able to hear much from there,’ said a voice in her ear, and Elissa, who had just sat down as commanded, nearly fell off the stool. Standing in the doorway was a tall, well-built woman, with white hair piled high on her head. She had piercing dark eyes, and carried a pomegranate in her hand. Her cloak was sewn with peacock feathers. Before Elissa could say a word, this person went on: ‘I am Hera, the wife of Zeus, and it’s thanks to me and Aeneas’ mother, Aphrodite, that your mistress is so much in love with him. There are those who are against this union and they are powerful, but we will do our best. Listen . . . I will give your ears powers to hear what they say to one another and you will learn what love can be. You will be a witness. Be attentive.’

  As Elissa stared at this apparition, the outlines of Hera’s body began to blend into the marble walls and the only sign that the Goddess had been there was a peacock feather lying on the floor. As she picked it up and stroked it, wondering what she had seen, she realized that the Goddess had indeed touched her ears because suddenly she could hear every word that Dido and Aeneas were saying to one another.

  ‘It’s such a pleasure, Queen Dido,’ she heard Aeneas say, ‘to sleep ashore and not on a ship.’

  Dido answered: ‘It pleases me to hear that – and you’ve shaved your beard. Forgive me for making such a personal remark.’

  ‘You have good servants who are skilful in the use of their implements, and after so many moons wandering at sea it’s good to be rid of it. I feel . . . I feel cleaner.’

  ‘You look like a youth now,’ Dido said, and Elissa wondered how she could allow herself to speak thus to a man she had met so recently. The queen stood up and said to Aeneas: ‘Let us go down to the city. It’s such a beautiful morning and I did want to show it to you. Elissa, you will come with us in case I need anything.’

  ‘Yes, lady,’ Elissa said, and she followed Dido and Aeneas outside, still holding the peacock feather that Hera had dropped. They walked slowly through the garden, with Elissa two or three steps behind them.

  ‘It’s a beautiful garden,’ Aeneas said. ‘Many men must have worked hard to make it so.’

  ‘They did. But come, I will show you my new buildings. The foundations are being laid for a theatre – if that would interest you.’

  ‘Indeed it would.’ Together they made their way towards the pala
ce gates. From where they’d been standing, almost hidden behind trees and bushes, a few men emerged, carrying weapons. Aeneas smiled. ‘I see your bodyguards are ready for us. Did you warn them they’d be needed?’

  ‘No, they follow me wherever I go and I’ve grown so used to them that I scarcely notice they’re there. They’re well-trained.’

  ‘Are you under any threat, Queen Dido?’

  ‘I don’t think so,’ Dido answered. ‘There are doubtless those who would see me cast out and themselves ruling in my place, but they are unknown to me, and as long as I have the money in Carthage and the power, I don’t feel myself menaced. On the contrary, I’m loved, I think. By most people. I’ve tried to be kind to those who work for me. I pay good money to the men who are building this city. One day, Aeneas, Carthage will be a power in the world.’

  ‘I don’t doubt it. And it would be hard not to love you . . . I mean, of course your people love you as their queen.’

  They continued their progress through the city. He was blushing when Dido spoke to him. Elissa could see it even on his sunburned skin. Could it be that he means he loves the queen? She felt as though someone had dealt her a blow. I have no right to be jealous, she thought, but I can’t help myself. Dido bent her head to acknowledge Aeneas’ last remark and she was also blushing a little; then she turned to the Trojan and said, ‘Tell me about yourself, Aeneas. What you didn’t tell us at the banquet on your first night in Carthage. I’d like to know more about your wife.’

  Aeneas went on walking, looking down at his feet. They’d arrived at the shore. ‘May we sit somewhere? On that bench by the water?’

  ‘Of course. This is the place I love best in the whole of Carthage. We can rest here for as long as you’d like to.’ Dido raised her hand in a signal to the bodyguards, who took up their positions among the columns of the harbour-side buildings. ‘Elissa, please sit down over there.’ The queen pointed to a low wall. ‘You’ll be in the shade.’

  ‘Yes, lady,’ Elissa said, and went to sit where she’d been told. She stroked the peacock feather and then threaded it into her garments, weaving it in and out of the loose-woven fabric of her dress. Amazingly, she could still hear every word the queen and Aeneas were saying to one another. Hera was truly a powerful goddess.

  ‘Creusa was not the person I thought I would wed,’ said Aeneas. ‘There was a young woman I loved when I was a boy, but my father chose Creusa for me and my love for her grew after I married her. That sometimes happens, doesn’t it?’

  ‘It does. It happened to me. My husband, Sychaeus, was ten years older than me and I was frightened to find myself a wife while I was not much more than a child. But Sychaeus was so kind and gentle to me that I became fond of him; I only realized how much I loved him when he was killed. Because of the sorrow I felt whenever I thought of him.’

  ‘Creusa was a good woman, and her son, Ascanius, is the person I love most in the whole world. I remember her with gratitude and reverence, but so much has happened since she died that sometimes I can’t call her to mind and I feel unworthy. I find it hard to picture her face. She’s no longer present to me and that makes me sad.’

  ‘If you talk of her often, to her son and to others, like me’ – Dido was speaking very gently and soothingly – ‘that will ensure that she is not forgotten.’

  ‘My mother says that love is the most important thing in the world.’

  ‘Tell me about her. About your mother.’

  What a lot of questions Dido was asking! She must be very interested in Aeneas to be so eager to know every single thing about him, Elissa thought. Every tiny detail of his life, his past, his relations, was fascinating to her. It’s fascinating to me too, Elissa reflected, but he’d never speak to me in the way he speaks to Dido.

  ‘My mother is Aphrodite, the Goddess of Love.’

  Dido was staring at him, and even Elissa found it hard not to exclaim aloud. The queen said: ‘Your mother is a goddess?’

  Aeneas nodded. ‘She is. And there are other Gods who have my future in their hands. Zeus himself has me in his care. And Hera too is interested in my fate. What I say sounds boastful and, because I have no more than a few men and three ships, also a little mad.’

  ‘Tell me,’ Dido said, and Elissa saw her touch him on the arm briefly, as if to encourage him.

  ‘I’m to found a dynasty – there, across the ocean. It will be a power in the world. It sounds ridiculous, I know.’

  ‘Not at all,’ Dido said, but then she was silent for a long time. At last she went on: ‘I understand very well the desire to rule. I share it. I’m proud of this city and my happiness is bound up with its prosperity and the welfare of its people.’

  ‘You are the perfect queen,’ Aeneas said, and offering Dido his arm again, he stood up. ‘Will you come back to the palace with me now? I have to ensure that my men have been settled in their accommodation.’

  ‘How thoughtless I am!’ said Dido, standing up at once. ‘We’ll go back as quickly as possible. I wish you’d told me earlier. I’m sorry. I’ve taken my time . . .’

  ‘It’s been a pleasure, my lady.’

  ‘Please call me Dido,’ she said. ‘And I will call you Aeneas, if you allow it.’

  ‘You didn’t need to ask.’

  ‘I like to know where I stand.’

  Elissa saw Aeneas turn so that he and Dido were facing one another. He put his hands on her upper arms, and for a wild moment she thought the two of them were going to embrace, and even kiss one another. Elissa saw the queen blushing again, and Aeneas’ gaze didn’t move from her face.

  ‘You stand high in my estimation,’ he said. ‘I’m your friend for ever. I have . . . I admire you more than I can say. You knew that, didn’t you?’

  Dido nodded, and they started to make their way back to the palace, with Elissa following them. The queen didn’t say a word as they walked and Aeneas kept looking sideways at her. Elissa wondered what could be wrong, because it had been quite clear, up to a moment ago, that Dido was more than friendly towards Aeneas. At last, as they stepped out of the sunlight and into the cool colonnades, the Trojan said: ‘You’re silent, Dido. What are you thinking about?’

  ‘Nothing of any interest, Aeneas, I assure you. Thank you for your company. I have enjoyed walking with you.’

  ‘And I with you,’ Aeneas said, and bending low over Dido’s hand, he kissed it before walking away.

  Dido stared at the place where his mouth had been for a long time. Then she came to herself, and turning to Elissa, said: ‘I’m sorry to have taken you from your duties, Elissa. You may return to them now.

  ‘Yes, lady,’ Elissa said, and went to find Ascanius.

  The night edging nearer to the dawn; the maidservants’ bedchamber

  How can I be dreaming, Elissa thought, if I’m not asleep? She was in her bed but she could tell she was awake because there were Tanith and Nezral and she could hear them breathing deeply. Nezral was making the kind of noise you’d call a snore if you weren’t a good friend of hers. Or could it be that both her companions were part of the dream as well? Maybe she was asleep, because all at once she became aware of a noise like a dog panting. There were no dogs in the palace. Cats padded along the corridors and lurked in the shadows, but they were needed as mouse-catchers. Dogs were only used for hunting and were kept firmly out of doors in kennels near the stables. Besides, no dog she’d ever seen looked like this one. He was white, with fur that seemed almost to gleam, and his eyes were like translucent chips of amber. Elissa struggled to sit up and blinked in amazement.

  ‘Oh, you lovely creature!’ she whispered. ‘Where did you come from?’ She pushed back the sheet, went to kneel beside the animal and began to stroke him. ‘You’re beautiful. Where is your owner? What are you doing by my bed?’

  ‘He’s my dog. And I’ve come to speak to you, Elissa.’

  ‘Who are you?’ As Elissa peered into the darkness, a silvery shape stepped away from the shadow of the wall. ‘How did you ge
t past the guards?’

  ‘I am Artemis, the Goddess who protects young girls. Also the Goddess of the Hunt. And of Childbirth. He is one of my hunting dogs. Guards mean nothing to me. They never see me.’

  A goddess! Elissa stared at the woman and noticed that her tunic was shimmering as though it were made of beaten silver; that her hair was the colour of moonlight; that she was crying. The tears falling on to her cheeks were silver too.

  ‘Why are you weeping?’

  ‘I’m weeping for you. You’re no longer a maiden. You are going to bear a child. This is the end of your youth. You have thrown away the gift of your love. Aeneas did not deserve what you gave him.’

  ‘But I loved him! I still love him, and that’s not going to change, ever. I don’t regret what happened. I don’t regret this child that is growing inside me. How can I be sad about that?’

  ‘You will find out,’ Artemis said, ‘that the pain of bearing the child is only the beginning. Do you know what it means to be a mother? You are tied for ever to another person. You can never be free. The child you bear is bound to you for ever.’

  ‘No, it’s not,’ Elissa said, struggling to keep from crying herself. She got up from the hard floor and sat down on her bed. How did this Goddess dare to come and tell her such sad things! Wasn’t Aeneas fleeing Carthage enough to make her miserable? In any case, it wasn’t true. Elissa frowned and wondered if she dared to contradict an inhabitant of Olympus. She said, ‘Mothers and children are not always bound together. I’ve left my own mother. I hardly ever think of her now.’ Was that true? Well, maybe not, but Elissa didn’t care.

  ‘She thinks of you.’

  ‘No she doesn’t. She has the other children to worry about, and my father too. She has no time to fret about me.’

  ‘You know nothing. You are always in her mind.’

  ‘That’s not true! You’re lying. You’re just . . . You’re put out because I’m no longer a virgin. That’s something you don’t like and you’re taking your anger out on me.’