Dido Read online

  Artemis shook her head. ‘No, child. I’m not angry with you. I am regretful. I foresee much anguish, but it does no good to be angry. And you will find out the truth of what I’ve told you when you’re a mother yourself. The ties of the flesh bind you for ever. You’ll see.’

  ‘Did you come to warn me? To scold me? To comfort me? I don’t understand.’

  ‘You don’t need to understand. You’re a mortal. I have seen you. I have spoken to you. You now know what to expect.’

  ‘I don’t. I don’t know what to expect. Tell me. If you’ve come to warn me, then warn me properly.’

  ‘Dido . . . Take care, Elissa, in your dealings with the queen.’

  Elissa stared at Artemis as she spoke. She was on the point of asking what that meant; how was she supposed to take care? Should she leave the palace? And then someone else was speaking in the room. She turned her head and saw that the dark sleeping shapes of Nezral and Tanith hadn’t moved. Amber light filled the chamber and Elissa caught sight of Aphrodite, standing in the doorway.

  ‘Don’t disturb yourself, child,’ said the Goddess of Love. ‘I’ve come to speak with Artemis. She and I are in disagreement about something. Be silent.’

  Artemis said, ‘I’m angry, Aphrodite, and I won’t deny it. You’ve been unkind to this child. Not only did you make her fall in love with someone who could never return her devotion; you also knew that her mistress was in love with Aeneas and yet you couldn’t stop yourself. You meddled. You’re forever meddling.’

  ‘You call it that,’ said Aphrodite, ‘but you don’t understand love, Artemis. Why should you, being the Goddess of all maidens? The pain of love is a price worth paying for the glory that comes with it. That’s my opinion.’

  ‘And mine is that the misery love brings is enough to keep anyone a maiden for ever. Look at this child. She’s going to be a mother and you are as much to blame for that as the man who lay with her.’

  ‘What can you possibly know about the pleasures of being a mother?’ said Aphrodite. ‘You are a maiden. But I have a child: Aeneas, my beloved son. That love, of a mother for her child, is worth any amount of pain. Any amount.’

  ‘You say I am a maiden and don’t understand such matters,’ said Artemis, ‘but I am also the Goddess of those who attend births, so I know what I’m talking about far better than you. The agonies of childbirth, if the baby survives, are simply the beginning. For the rest of the mother’s life she shares her offspring’s every sorrow, every bruise and cut and illness, every disappointment, every dark mood. And how many die in infancy? Very many. Too many. That pain is with the mother till she goes down to the kingdom of Hades.’

  ‘Pah!’ Aphrodite’s exasperation was plain. ‘What about the joys? The pleasure in every success? The unending love that a mother and child feel for one another, the pride in your child’s achievements?’

  ‘Nothing compared to the pain. Nothing. The pleasure is soon forgotten. The sorrow is not. That remains. And there are mothers and children whose love is more like hatred – do you consider that?’

  ‘Ask her,’ Aphrodite said. ‘Ask this girl. Would she rather be pregnant or not? I know her answer.’

  ‘I won’t ask, because it’s happened and it’s the will of the Gods – well, your will, Aphrodite – and all I can do is comfort her. That’s why I came.’

  ‘Oh, really? I thought it was to pick a fight with me. Then you can spare yourself the trouble, Artemis. I am the one who is here to comfort her.’

  ‘Nonsense. It’s you who’s picking a quarrel with me, but I know why you’re really here. It’s for Dido. To see what a pass she has come to – as a result of your wishes.’

  Aphrodite sank down on to the chair just inside the doorway. ‘I cannot deny it. Perhaps I do somewhat regret what has happened to Dido. I could see that my son was attracted and it’s hard to deny a child something you can easily give him. And it was difficult to resist Hera, who encouraged the love between them even while she knew very well that his destiny was to leave Carthage for ever.’

  ‘You spoil Aeneas. That’s another danger of motherhood, isn’t it? Anything he fancied, you tried to give him. Isn’t that right?’

  ‘I don’t regret it. I never regret anything. Regret is for weaklings. Mortals must submit to their fate, that’s all.’

  ‘Yes,’ said Artemis, and turning to Elissa, she said, ‘Be comforted. When your time comes to give birth, I’ll attend you. Don’t be frightened.’

  ‘I’m not,’ Elissa whispered, but she was lying. She had seen what her mother went through giving birth to her brothers and sisters, and dreaded that pain, but if the Goddess would help her, then surely her child would come quickly and easily into the world? She resolved to pray to Artemis in future, for a swift delivery. Now the Goddess laid a cool silver hand on her brow and said: ‘Sleep now. We will leave you.’

  Elissa climbed into her bed and lay back on her pillows, and the fragrance of almond blossom and roses filled the room as Aphrodite left the bedchamber. The dog’s paws clicked as he trotted away, and the silver light that surrounded Artemis faded to a darkness broken only by the flickering of a torch a long way down the corridor.

  Cubby

  The night edging nearer to the dawn; the courtyard

  CUBBY WASN’T SURE if he’d been asleep or not. He’d just had a dream and it wasn’t like any other dream he could remember. The more he thought about it, the less he could bring it back to his mind, but there was a dog in it, and a kind of silver person, and they were running along the dark corridor. Oh well, Cubby thought. I don’t suppose it meant anything in particular. He was a bit disappointed to find himself dropping off every now and then. The master of the guard didn’t say in so many words, but surely he meant Cubby to stay awake so that he could deal with anyone who wanted to interfere in any way with the stuff that belonged to the queen.

  He’d got quite used to the size of the bed. At first it seemed to take up more space than any piece of furniture he’d ever seen before, but now it looked normal: the right size for Queen Dido at any rate. She’d been here a while ago, and had sent him to stand further away while she chatted to that long-haired chap who had a bit of a girlish look. Iopas, they called him. Cubby had never spoken to him before tonight, but had seen him wandering around the palace. Seemed like a bit of a weed, with skinny arms and legs. Maron liked him though, so he couldn’t be all bad. It was true that Cubby was hurt sometimes that Maron chose to spend more time with Iopas than with him. Still, he told himself, I’m nothing but a kitchen boy and I’m lucky that Maron spoke to me at all.

  It was very quiet now and that made Cubby feel nervous. He didn’t really like silence. The thing about it was, you kept thinking you heard something in the nothing that you were actually hearing. He shook his head. This was complicated and it made his head hurt just to think such things. Up until a while ago, the courtyard had been quite noisy, even though it was night time. The servants who brought the stuff to put on the bed didn’t exactly keep their voices down. Cubby didn’t try to keep track of the weapons and clothes and bedclothes and odds and ends they’d piled up on the mattress, but after they’d gone he went and had a bit of a nose around and found something that he really liked. It was a toy crocodile on wheels.

  Cubby looked around to make sure no one was looking and then picked up the toy. I remember this, he thought. That kid – what was his name? Ascanius, that’s right – this is his toy. Why’s he left it here? Can’t be that he doesn’t want it any longer. He really loved it. He came racing into the kitchen with it, and I was there and not working for a change. Cubby held the little crocodile in his hands and suddenly felt sad. Well, the kid must have gone now and left this behind. It was a shame. When he’d burst into the kitchen (it wasn’t so long ago, either), he had the crocodile tucked under one arm and he was waving a wooden sword about with his other hand. Cubby sat down with his back against the bedstead and thought himself back to that day.

  For once the kitchen wa
s quiet and there was no one about. Cubby wondered whether he ought to make a start on preparing the vegetables for the evening meal when suddenly he heard a high-pitched yelling sound and a small boy ran into the room at high speed, almost bumping into Cubby as he went.

  ‘Hello, little boy,’ Cubby said. ‘What’s the rush?’

  ‘I’m not little. I’m big. I’m Ascanius,’ the boy said, coming to a halt just by the table. Then, ‘What’s your name?’

  ‘They call me Cubby.’

  ‘That’s a funny name,’ said Ascanius. ‘Why do they call you that?’

  ‘I used to live in a cupboard when I was small.’

  ‘People don’t live in cupboards,’ said the little boy, sounding very definite about it. Then he looked a little worried and added, ‘Do they?’

  ‘Not a lot of people,’ said Cubby, ‘but I did.’

  The boy started laughing. He said, ‘Cubby – that’s funny. My crocodile’s name is Croccy.’

  ‘Right.’ Cubby nodded in agreement. ‘That makes sense.’

  ‘D’you want to pull him? You can pull him.’

  ‘Yeah, all right.’ Cubby took the string from the little boy’s hand and walked around the kitchen with the wooden creature rattling along on the hard floor behind him. He felt a fool, and a bit sad too. He’d never had a family, or none that he could remember, and he wasn’t very good at playing because no one had ever played any kind of game with him. His first memory was of this very kitchen. He must have been brought here – dumped here – when he was tiny. His mother. His father. He must have had one of each, even if he never knew them, and he might also have had some brothers and sisters but they’d obviously decided that they didn’t want him in their house. The kitchen workers had been kind to him for the most part, and Cubby could remember being allowed to bang on lids with wooden spoons and splash in basins of dirty water after the dishes had been washed. It hadn’t been such a bad childhood and at least he’d always had enough to eat. Still, he could never join in with any conversations about home, like the other kitchen lads. He couldn’t tell any stories about where he’d come from.

  This used to worry and upset him when he first came here, but he’d been young. Now that he was older and bigger he’d stopped thinking about home altogether, most of the time. It was only seeing this toy and this little boy when he wasn’t really expecting it – that made him a bit sad, gave him a kind of sore feeling just above his stomach. It was so strange to him, the pain, that he stood there staring at the crocodile and Ascanius, wondering whether he’d eaten something that didn’t agree with him, but no. The pain left him gradually, and Cubby went back to playing with the child.

  ‘Oi, Cubby, whatcha think you’re doing?’ That was Cook, who’d come back into the kitchen. ‘Time you were putting those lambs on the spit or no one will get any food tonight. Jump to it, boy! Who’s this? Don’t want kids in here, thank you very much. And what’s this bloody toy doing under my feet? This is a kitchen, not a bleeding nursery.’

  Then Cook bent down, picked up the crocodile and thrust it into Ascanius’ arms. ‘Scat!’ he yelled, putting his huge red face very near the boy’s. ‘And also scram. Don’t want to see you in here ever again, d’you hear?’

  ‘I’ll take him back.’ Cubby surprised himself by speaking out, even though he wasn’t in the habit of addressing Cook directly. It was better to stay out of his way if at all possible. ‘I’ll go with him to his nursemaid. I know where she is. Come on, Ascanius.’

  He tried to take the child’s hand, but Ascanius pulled away and began to run through the corridors. Cubby wasn’t very good at running but he shuffled along behind him as quickly as he could. And there was Maron, standing in the doorway of the nursery.

  ‘Ascanius!’ he cried. ‘We’ve been looking for you everywhere. Where have you been?’ He caught sight of Cubby and said to him, ‘Hello, Cubby. Has he been bothering you in the kitchen? I’m sorry if he has. It’s hard to keep an eye on him every minute. He’s always running away.’

  ‘No problem, Maron,’ said Cubby, blushing. Maron always spoke to him as though they were the best of friends. ‘We had a nice game, didn’t we? But Cook said we had to go.’

  ‘I’ve got a sword!’ Ascanius shouted, and began to flourish his wooden sword at Cubby, who parried with his hands. Soon the two of them were dancing around the corridor in a mock fight, with the child laughing and Cubby trying hard not to appear too clumsy and heavy-footed. He was already out of breath, but Maron was smiling so he was happy to continue with the game.

  ‘Who’s your opponent?’ said a low voice, and there was Aeneas. They stopped moving, and Ascanius brought his sword to rest just a hair’s breadth away from Cubby’s stomach.

  ‘Give up!’ Ascanius shouted. ‘Surrender!’

  ‘I give up!’ Cubby said, putting his hands above his head.

  Ascanius ran to his father, who gathered him up and held him.

  ‘I’m sorry if my son’s been worrying you,’ Aeneas said. Cubby couldn’t get over it. This was the prince from Troy. Everyone knew that the queen was in love with him and some said he might become the next king of Carthage. He’d overheard the queen’s sister, Anna, moaning about how difficult it was for anyone to speak to Dido these days because she was so taken up with the Trojan. And now this person was speaking to him. For a moment Cubby couldn’t think what to say. First Maron and now his master. In the end he muttered, ‘I liked playing with your son, sir.’

  ‘And I’m sure he enjoyed playing with you. Say goodbye to this kind lad, Ascanius.’

  ‘Bye!’ the child shouted. ‘Bye, Cubby!’

  ‘Don’t be so rude, boy! Cubby’s not a proper name!’ Aeneas chided him, and Cubby hurried to say: ‘No, it’s all right, sir. That’s what I’m called. Everyone calls me Cubby.’

  ‘Do they?’ Aeneas looked solemn for a moment and then grinned. ‘Very well. Thank you, Cubby.’

  Cubby stood and watched as Aeneas, still carrying his son, went into the nursery to find Elissa. Maron said, ‘You were really good with him, Cubby. Thanks. He’s a bit of a handful for Elissa sometimes and I’m grateful for any bit of help with childcare. See you later!’ He walked down the corridor and Cubby gazed after him, wondering where he was going. Other people always seemed to have things to do and places to go to. My place is the kitchen, Cubby thought, and I’d better get back there now before Cook comes looking for me.

  The night edging nearer to the dawn; the courtyard

  Cubby sighed as he remembered that day and put the wooden crocodile back on top of the other toys and clothes heaped on the royal bed. It wobbled there for a moment and then fell down on to the flagged stones of the courtyard with a noise that startled Cubby so much he nearly jumped out of his skin. He looked around, hoping that the racket wouldn’t have woken anyone, and after listening for a bit he reckoned he’d got away with it. The silence was complete and Cubby sat down again. After a while his head lolled down on to his chest and he began to dream. No, I mustn’t fall asleep, he told himself, lifting his head up again. I’m a guard.

  Just then he heard a funny noise. At first he couldn’t think what it was: a sort of rhythmic clicking sound, exactly as if a dog were trotting about on the tiled floor. He was back: the dog from his dream. He looked up and couldn’t believe what he was seeing. There was a dog, but it wasn’t any old mutt, and certainly not an animal he’d ever seen the like of before. This creature had a silvery coat, long, droopy ears, a long pointed nose and thin legs. A girl was walking along behind it, and she was dressed in a short silver tunic and carried a silver bow. He’d never seen her before in his life, and however much he admired her dog and however pretty she was, Cubby was fairly certain that strangers weren’t meant to be traipsing the corridors in the middle of the night.

  ‘Oi!’ he shouted, remembering just after he’d said it that he was supposed to say, Who goes there? Perhaps it wasn’t too late to speak, even now, but the words wouldn’t come.

  ‘Don’t b
e concerned,’ said the woman. He could see, now that she was a little closer to him, that she was older than she looked, though he wouldn’t have been able to say how old exactly. ‘I’ve just come from Elissa’s room.’

  ‘Oh, righty-o!’ Cubby said, and the silver woman drifted off down the corridor. He looked for the dog, but that had disappeared as well. Never mind, he told himself. It’s too late to ask her what her name is. Elissa will tell me in the morning. I’m not chasing down the corridors and leaving this bed unguarded. No way.

  Elissa

  Some time before dawn; the palace corridors/a small bedchamber

  ‘WHAT’S THE MATTER, Elissa?’ Nezral mumbled. ‘Are you sick again?’

  ‘No, no, I’m not. I’m sorry. It must have been a dream. I didn’t mean to wake you.’

  Nezral sighed and turned over and went back to sleep almost at once. Elissa went on sitting on her bed, staring into the darkness. I’m not going to sleep now, she thought. And I’m hungry. I want something salty to eat. She picked up a thin cotton robe and pulled it on over her nightgown. Did she dare to walk along the corridors to the kitchen in the middle of the night? Yes, of course she did. What harm could possibly come to her? It was true that tonight of all nights, when there were guards everywhere and half the palace servants hadn’t gone to bed just in case the queen decided she wanted something, she was sure to be noticed, but so what? A person was allowed to be hungry in the middle of the night, weren’t they? If anyone sees me, I’ll tell them I’m going to get something to eat, which is no more than the truth.

  She tiptoed through the silence, and as she passed the courtyard, glanced at Cubby and couldn’t help smiling. He’d fallen asleep, leaning against one of the legs of the queen’s bed, and if the idea was that he should be guarding it, it wasn’t working very well. Elissa didn’t know why Dido had brought the bed to the courtyard, nor why a guard was necessary, but presumably it was to stop the servants and even some of the courtiers helping themselves to Aeneas’ possessions. For a moment Elissa wondered whether she dared to go over to the bed and perhaps take something as a keepsake. No, she told herself. I can’t. If I’m caught, they’ll throw me out of the palace. Dido will never forgive me.