Dido Page 14

  ‘You’ll come with us?’ Dido asked. ‘Please?’

  ‘If you wish me to,’ Anna answered. ‘I’d be glad to escape the city for a while. Thank you. I will go and leave orders with the servants for what is to be done in our absence.’

  ‘And put on your best clothes, dear sister. It will be a fine party!’

  Almost dawn; the small bedchamber

  Anna looked at Dido, who was sipping from the goblet of watered-down wine. The night would soon be over. Outside, the sky was almost black and she went to the window and gazed down at the city. Only a few lights showed there now, and the friendly yellowish glow cheered her. Down in the harbour there must be torches lit for the guards to see by, but she couldn’t make out any movement yet on Aeneas’ ships.

  ‘You’re longing for the daylight, aren’t you?’ Dido spoke, and Anna could hear that her voice was raw from too much weeping. ‘You wish him gone. You wish this over, this night and my sorrow. You want it all to end.’

  Anna turned to face her sister. ‘And you want it to continue? You like being like this? Oh, Dido, think! Think how you were before he came and how you could be again. A queen, a ruler, powerful, beautiful, with everything to make you happy . . . Can you not cease this crying and remember how it was before Aeneas came to the city?’

  Dido looked up at her, and for a moment Anna hoped that there would be a light, a glimmer of understanding in her eyes. Let her come to her senses, she begged the unseen Gods on Olympus. Let her realize that the Queen of Carthage cannot continue to sit on a small bed in a narrow room with her knees drawn up under her chin, her eyes reddened with tears, her hair – the magnificent amber-coloured curls so carefully washed and tended and oiled and scented, the envy of every woman who saw her, the object of so many men’s fantasies – knotted and tangled and unkempt. But no, she could see that her prayers had gone unheeded. Her sister’s gaze was fixed on a spot above the door handle as though all the answers in the world were there, if only she could decipher them. Her lips were clamped together into a straight line and she brought the fingers of one hand up to her mouth and began to bite at the nails.

  Anna shuddered and sat down on the bed, prepared to wait with Dido until the sky grew light again. Should she speak? Or should she simply pass the time by remembering? Dido’s eyes were closed now, and Anna went back in her mind to the morning of the hunt. The morning of what her sister always referred to as her wedding day. Dido certainly put on her clothes that morning as though she were dressing for some special occasion. Usually, for the hunt, she wore a shift made of softest leather and boots that covered her legs almost to the knee, but on that day she put on her white and silver robes, almost as though she were choosing the garments that would come off most easily. Was she planning what would happen later and wanting it to happen? Surely not . . . Dido had no powers to foretell the future, but perhaps Aphrodite was listening to her thoughts and preparing the ground for what was destined to happen that day.

  Cubby

  Daybreak approaching; the courtyard

  WHAT NOBODY EVER told you about being a guard was, it was boring. Cubby was finding it harder and harder to stay awake. He’d tried all sorts of things to keep his eyes from closing. He’d walked round the bed, first in one direction and then in another. He’d sung himself some bits of songs he remembered, which weren’t up to much because just as he was getting going, he forgot what came next. He went over things in his head, and sometimes something would happen which woke him up for a bit. There was the white dog and the silver lady or Goddess or whatever she was. Then Elissa went past on her way to the kitchen, but she didn’t stop to talk. Then the queen’s sister came by carrying a tray with a goblet and a jug of water on it, and that made Cubby feel very hungry and thirsty. Next time he saw someone, he’d ask them for something from the kitchen. One of the serving girls had brought him some food earlier on, but that was a long time ago. He looked up at the sky above the courtyard and it was black all over. He’d already gone over in his head most of the things that made him happy: playing with Ascanius, being a friend to someone like Maron . . . But the trouble with thinking about stuff like that was you ended up with a sad story, because both Ascanius and Maron would be gone by the time the sun rose. Nothing there to cheer a person up.

  He went to sit at the foot of the bed, and leaned against it. Something was stopping him. It felt like a long thin piece of wood. What was it? Cubby turned round and saw that he’d bumped his head on a bag which ought to have held some arrows . . . what did they call it? He didn’t know the right word, but it was made of leather and there were no arrows in it now. He pulled it out and flung it higher up the pile of Aeneas’ belongings and settled back against the bed. Arrows . . . Last time those were used was for the hunt. He’d only been on a hunt once in his life but that was enough. Cubby felt a bit strange whenever he thought about it, but he’d enjoyed it to begin with. Later on, it all got a bit weird.

  Cubby couldn’t get over being asked to go on a hunt with the royal party. It must have been Maron’s doing, he thought, because the day before, Maron had come into the kitchen and spoken to Cook.

  ‘It’ll be hot up on the mountain, Cook, and I think you’ll need help with menial tasks like putting fruit on trays,’ he told him, and then winked at Cubby behind Cook’s back. Cook said nothing. He didn’t speak very much at the best of times, and on this day he was busier than ever preparing fruit and bread and wine in leather bottles for the hunting party. Many baskets would be needed. Many water bottles, as well as those which held wine. And all day long, sides of meat would be lying in a bath of oil and herbs before they were threaded on to the spit and roasted in time for the feast, which would be prepared to greet the hunters when they returned to the palace. Maron was still talking to Cook.

  ‘Cubby’s the strongest boy you’ve got, I reckon. I think you should take him along with the others. He’s good at fetching and carrying too. He’ll be very useful.’

  At last Cook had nodded his consent. He scowled at Cubby after Maron left the kitchen and said, ‘Don’t put a foot wrong, mind, or I’ll send you back down to the palace before you can say roasted pig.’

  ‘Thank you, Cook,’ Cubby said, and made himself scarce.

  The rest of the day passed slowly because he was so eager for the next morning to come, but in the end it was over. Cubby was up at daybreak, loading the horses with baskets full of food and utensils. And who’d have thought so many people were needed just so that Dido and Aeneas, the Lady Anna and some courtiers could go hunting? As well as the kitchen staff, Cubby walking proudly among them, there were guards on horseback, about twenty of them, and attendants, and Iopas was there as well. Perhaps after they’d eaten, Dido and Aeneas wanted someone to sing them songs. I’d much rather have a nap than listen to songs, Cubby thought as they trudged up to the hills. He counted eight horses loaded with wine and food and folded tents to put up when they got to a suitable spot. Maron was there, riding one of the horses, and he actually came and spoke to Cubby briefly before joining the others at the front of the procession.

  ‘I’m looking forward to this, Cubby. Aren’t you glad you came? They’ve seen some stag up here in the hills. It’ll be a good day, right?’

  Cubby opened his mouth to answer but Maron had already ridden off. I’d still be in the kitchen if it weren’t for him, he thought. They reached a pleasant place after a bit, where there was room to put up the tents, and almost before Cubby had time to unpack the baskets he’d been put in charge of, men were rushing about with ropes, and shouting and heaving and puffing and blowing, and soon there was a kind of tent palace big enough for everyone in the royal party to sit down in comfortably, and another smaller tent a little way off for the servants and others to sit down in so that everyone could eat their fruit and cakes and drink their water and wine out of the glare of the sun. Cubby glanced into the royal tent and saw that cushions had been scattered around too. Grand people didn’t like the idea of sitting on the hard gro
und either, so there were rugs in there as well. A horse had carried them up here on his back, all rolled up and tied to the saddle with leather thongs. Cubby had felt quite sorry for the poor creature.

  The idea was that the hunting party would ride out after the stag for a bit and then come back and eat fruit and rest and drink, but then someone decided they’d better eat at least a bit first because the weather was turning funny.

  ‘Storm coming,’ said Cook, sounding sulky as he loaded grapes and figs and dates on to the trays they’d brought up with them. Cubby was standing ready to fetch and carry, and as soon as Cook gave him the signal, he took the food to the tent and came back for more. When he’d finished doing that, he began to look around for Maron, but couldn’t see him anywhere. He must be in the tent with the others, Cubby thought. Maybe talking to that Iopas. He sighed and sat down on a tree stump a little way off.

  That storm will be here soon, he told himself. The clouds were huge and dark bluey grey, piled up like puffy mountains all over the sky. Occasionally a dart of lightning would shoot out of the clouds and the first one he saw made Cubby jump. I’m scared, he thought. I hate storms. The thunder sounded to him like a whole collection of barrels being rolled over a pavement, ready to crush him flat, and lightning, everyone knew, came from a powerful god called Poseidon, who brought death and destruction to those at sea who happened to annoy him. Cubby shivered and looked for somewhere to take shelter. He noticed something like the mouth of a cave a bit further up the path and went to explore it. As he walked towards the dark opening in the rock, he wondered what would happen if Cook needed him for something. Should he go back or go on? A flash of lightning decided him, and he made a dash for the cave just a few moments before the rain came washing down in torrents. The light had turned a funny colour too. It looked almost purple.

  Cubby was just starting to explore the cave when he heard voices getting louder, which meant someone was coming. He hadn’t reckoned on that happening. I daren’t let anyone see me, he thought. They’ll send me back to the tent, out into the storm. I can’t go out there. The lightning will skewer me like a piece of meat and I’ll roast alive. He ducked behind some rocks, and making himself as small as possible, squatted down with his arms around his knees.

  ‘Come, Dido,’ someone said, and Cubby recognized the voice of Maron’s master, Aeneas. And he’d said Dido, which meant that she was here too. He nearly fell over in astonishment. What should he do now? If he made a dash for the opening of the cave, the royal couple would see him, and then what? Aeneas was still speaking. ‘We’ll go in here . . . look. We’ll be quite dry.’

  ‘But what’ll they say? The others?’ That was the queen. Cubby peered through a gap in the rock and saw the two of them, the queen and Aeneas, both soaking wet. Their hair was dripping on to their shoulders and they were holding hands. The queen was wearing a dress made from thin material that was so wet it clung to her body and Cubby could see everything as clearly as if she’d been naked. He squeezed his eyes tight shut, wondering whether a terrible punishment awaited a kitchen boy who’d looked at the queen’s . . . he didn’t even like to say the word ‘breasts’ in his head. Didn’t even like to think it, but he opened his eyes again and stared. He couldn’t help himself.

  ‘There,’ Aeneas said. ‘We’re dry and safe and the storm will last for a while. There’s no need for us to hurry.’

  As he spoke, the Trojan was leading her further and further into the cave. Cubby could see, in the dim light that came in from the entrance, that it was huge, much larger than he’d thought at first.

  ‘I think the Gods have visited this place,’ the queen said. ‘This is a kind of temple.’

  ‘Aphrodite’s here now,’ Aeneas said, and the two of them stood still, facing one another in the middle of the cave.

  ‘Where? I don’t see her . . .’

  ‘Here. On my lips. In my hands. Come to me, Dido. Let me kiss you.’

  Cubby practically stopped breathing. He wasn’t supposed to see stuff like this. Or hear such words either. In some way that he couldn’t quite put his finger on, he knew that it was wrong to stare at the two of them, but his eyes were almost popping out of his head and his mouth hung open. Aeneas had his arms around the queen and was holding her so close that the whole of her body was squashed up against his. She didn’t seem to mind that. Cubby saw her lift her face and kiss Aeneas and he tried to imagine what that would be like, and thinking about it made him feel most peculiar and he blushed and hid his eyes. Suddenly he could smell something delicious, like roses and almond blossom, and he sniffed as quietly as he could. Where did that perfume come from? He looked behind him and almost cried out. A beautiful woman had just appeared at his shoulder. How had she come in without him noticing? Who was she? Should he warn the queen and Aeneas?

  ‘Sssh!’ said the woman. ‘Don’t speak. I am Aphrodite, Goddess of Love, and that’s all you need to know. My business is with Dido and Aeneas and the fact that you’re here is completely unimportant. You will see things and hear things and that can’t be helped. Fortunately, you’ll forget most of it later. You’re not the sort of person who keeps things in his memory, are you?’

  Cubby shook his head. The Goddess said, ‘Good. Now stand up, boy. You’ll be more comfortable. They won’t be able to see you. I’ve arranged matters so that they see and hear nothing but one another. Now I must leave you and speak to Dido.’

  The Goddess drifted over to where Aeneas stood, still kissing the queen as though he never wanted to stop. Could a kiss go on for such a long time? Had it been a long time? Cubby couldn’t tell. He had an idea that maybe he was dreaming and would wake up any moment now in his narrow bed down in Carthage, but no, there was the Goddess whose name he couldn’t remember whispering to Dido, and he could hear every word: He’s my son. Take him, take him as your husband. Let him lead you to your marriage bed. Here, behind you, there’s a hollow in the rock and I have lined it with soft leaves and wool from the youngest goats, and you can lie here and be together, and when you rise from this bed, you will be husband and wife. I have told you so. It’s true and you want it, Dido. You want it more than anything . . .

  ‘I can hear her,’ Dido was whispering right in Aeneas’ ear, but Cubby could still hear every word. ‘I can hear Aphrodite. She’s speaking to me, Aeneas. She says we’re man and wife . . . she says we’re to be married.’

  ‘She speaks nothing but the truth, for here is our wedding couch, see? Prepared by the Gods for us, Dido. How can you disbelieve?’ He was laughing as he spoke, kissing her as he laughed.

  Cubby watched as Aeneas picked up the queen and carried her over to the long hollow in the rock and laid her down on what looked like a cloud of white woolly stuff heaped up there.

  ‘This is the softest bed . . .’ she said to him, and he answered: ‘Our bed.’ Then he untied the queen’s wet garments and Cubby practically stopped breathing. He was dimly aware of lightning flashing somewhere in the distance, but his whole attention was on the white limbs entangled on the couch right under his eyes, and he could hardly hear the thunder or the drumming of the rain outside the cave for the moaning and cries that came from the two of them. Cubby knew what was going on. He’d heard talk in the kitchens about men and women and what they did together in the dark, and he thought his whole body was going to explode if he didn’t stop looking and listening, and yet he couldn’t stop. No one had told him how noisy it was, and the noises kept on and on, and then he saw the queen throw her head back and her long hair was trailing nearly to the ground, and then she cried out so loudly that the sound went right through him, and if he hadn’t known better, he’d have thought someone was murdering her, and then Aeneas shouted out too, and Cubby wondered if the others could hear these noises from where they were in the tent, and he also wondered if the storm was loud enough to cover what was going on in here and thought maybe it was, and that was a relief.

  ‘You’ll forget most of this,’ said the Goddess, whose name had alrea
dy almost disappeared from his head. ‘This is like a marriage and that’s what Dido will tell everyone. It is a marriage that I have arranged and you can see how happy they are.’

  ‘Yes,’ said Cubby, but he was still staring at the queen and Aeneas, lying together naked with their legs and arms entwined. Then the queen turned over on to her back and there they were again – her . . . her chest, Cubby told himself. Her chest. He couldn’t move. Would he ever be able to move again? Then Aeneas seemed to wake up and they started kissing, and Cubby looked around for Aphra-something but she’d gone. The only way you could tell she’d been there was from the fragrance of roses and almond blossom that still hung in the air.

  I’d better move before they get up, Cubby thought. He could see sunshine lying in a thick gold strip along the cave floor and there hadn’t been any rain or thunder for a bit. He was safe to run away. Also, he thought they might be about to start up again. The queen was breathing heavily – he could hear her from where he was – and Aeneas was panting a bit too. Cubby didn’t think he could deal with any more of that. Once was bad enough, he told himself. If they’re going to go through the grunting and moaning and things again, I’m getting out now.

  When he returned to the tents, Maron spoke to him and waved a hand. ‘Where’ve you been, Cubby?’

  He seemed happier than he usually was and that was because everyone had been drinking wine and water and eating everything while they waited for Aeneas and Dido to return to the tents. ‘We were about to send out a search party for the queen and Aeneas and we’d have asked them to look for you too. But there they are on the path. They’ll be here soon and then we’ll have to move on, I suppose, and get down to the hunting. Shame really. I’m quite happy sitting here now that the storm’s over. They must have taken shelter somewhere. You must as well, because you’re quite dry. Here, have a drink. Take a fig or two. Bet you’re starving.’