Dido Read online

  ‘But what’ll you say when it becomes impossible to hide your condition? When the baby is born?’ Nezral had begun, Elissa noticed, to sound irritated. Why was that? Could it be envy? Or was she simply angry at the stupidity of a friend? She sounded crosser and crosser the longer she spoke. ‘You have to think of your future, Elissa. Who’s going to want to marry you with another man’s bastard in the house? Not even Iopas would be as forgiving as that. What will you tell Dido when she asks you who the father is? You have to think about these matters, however unpleasant it might be.’

  ‘Stop nagging me, Nezral. I know what you’re saying is true, but I’m prepared for this. I don’t care if I never marry. I’ll look after my baby by myself. And I’ll lie to Dido. I’ll invent a lover. What does she know about who I see and speak to when I’m not in the palace? Why should she care? Don’t worry about me. Or my baby.’

  ‘If anyone should ask you why you’re so sad,’ Tanith said, and Elissa was relieved that her tone was gentler and more soothing than Nezral’s, ‘tell them you’re weeping for little Ascanius. They’ll understand that. They’ll sympathize. What a tender-hearted girl that Elissa is, they’ll say. Mourning the boy she’s had the care of for so long. Most people will accept that, and you’ll be safe for a short while at least.’

  Elissa closed her eyes. Tanith went on, ‘That’s right. You should sleep. You’ll feel better tomorrow.’

  Elissa knew that sleep would be a long time coming to her tonight, if it came at all. She lay quietly as her friends prepared for bed, and found the sadness she’d felt at the harbour, knowing she would never again see Aeneas, returning to overwhelm her, even though she’d tried as hard as she could to be calmer. She couldn’t help regretting . . . well, regretting a great many things when she thought about it. But regret wouldn’t help her either. I’m too young to go into mourning for ever, she told herself. I couldn’t help what I did, and I don’t regret loving Aeneas. He would be gone at daybreak, and what use was weeping? She had to do everything in her power to look after herself, because Dido was the only person in the world who would care for her, but that would end in an eyeblink if the queen found out who the father of her baby was. If that happened, she would be banished, sent into exile, even (and this was the worst fate that she could imagine) sent home to her father’s house. She remembered her miserable home in the hills above the city and her family: a cruel father who’d sell his daughter (because she was a daughter and not a son) for the price of a drink or marry her to a brute, and a mother who was too cowed and beaten by her husband’s drunken fists to stop him doing it. And too many brothers and sisters to share what was there to be shared.

  I won’t allow such things to happen to my child, Elissa thought. I’ll be a good mother to this baby, even if others think I’m nothing and nobody. I’ll be its mother. The most important person in the child’s world. Her pregnancy would be visible quite soon. What she had told her friends wasn’t quite true. She’d suspected for a few days that a baby might be growing in her body. She had seen enough women (starting with her own mother) feeling ill, tired and listless in the early part of their pregnancies. Even that night, on the one occasion when she had lain down with Aeneas (and she tried as hard as she could not to think of it because it made her want to cry even more), the notion that she might have a baby as a consequence had come into her mind. Since then, she’d lain in her bed each night and stared at the ceiling, praying to the Gods to look on her with favour and allow her to be the mother of Aeneas’ child. The old women always said: Be careful what you ask the Gods to give you, and they were right. Her prayers had been answered, and what good was that? She’d asked for the wrong thing. She should have implored them to keep him here in Carthage. It was too late now and she wished that she’d made more of a fuss earlier, when she was down at the harbour. She ought to have called out: I’m going to be the mother of his child. But his soldiers would have laughed at her. Sent her packing. I don’t look as if I could be anyone’s mother, she reflected. I’m too thin and small and dark and girlish. Her breasts, which were not enormous, would grow bigger to feed this baby, and part of her was longing for that. She envied some of the other young women who worked with her in the sewing room who, even though they were the same age as herself, looked much older and had to deal constantly with young men pinching their bottoms as they went about the city and whistling after them and making lewd remarks.

  She wished that her friends hadn’t discovered the truth about her and Aeneas, even though she was fairly sure they would keep her secret – at least for a while. But what if they didn’t? What if Dido found something out from them? She would have to ensure their silence in whatever ways she could think of. It was going to be a long night, and Elissa closed her eyes. She would go back, she resolved, to remembering the morning Dido had introduced her to the man she would grow to love.

  ‘Elissa! Queen Dido has sent for you. You’re to go at once to the south terrace, please.’ Anna smiled and beckoned Elissa with her finger. Tanith had just come into the sewing room and whispered in Anna’s ear, and Elissa stood up, folded her work neatly and prepared to leave the room. I wish I didn’t have to go, she thought. The sewing room was on the shady side of the palace when the sun was at its height and the thick walls meant that you could stay cool there even when the weather was stiflingly hot. And you could sit down while you were working, and talk to your companions in a soft voice, and sometimes Anna would bring in sweets and small cakes as a treat for her young ladies, as she liked to call the women and girls who sat around the long tables. But if the queen wanted to see her, then of course she had to drop everything she was doing and get to wherever she had to be as quickly as she could. By the time she reached the south terrace Elissa was quite out of breath.

  ‘You’ve been running, child,’ Dido said, smiling at her. ‘Sit down here for a moment and catch your breath.’

  Elissa sat down and looked around her. The south terrace was beautiful. Greenery had been trained to cover wide arches and the stone seats had been placed in the shade. They were high above the city here, and you could look down and see all the new dwellings that Dido had ordered to be built around the harbour. The houses clustered together and the streets were lined with palm trees, planted to make shade for those who lived there. A breeze was blowing off the ocean, making the heat more bearable. Sitting next to Dido was Ascanius’ father, the Trojan prince, Aeneas. This was the second time she’d seen him. He’d come to kiss his son goodnight the previous evening, but he hadn’t stayed very long, and in any case Elissa had been occupied with going through the little boy’s clothes and making a note of what he needed, and she hadn’t paid any particular attention to this devoted father. She looked at him now and was embarrassed to meet his eyes. He was smiling at her and it was impossible for her not to smile back.

  ‘It was kind of you to sit with my son while he slept last night,’ said Aeneas, and Elissa found herself wishing he would go on speaking. He had a voice sweeter than music played on instruments and she felt at that moment that she would happily listen to him for ever.

  ‘I was glad to help,’ she said. ‘He’s such a sweet baby.’

  ‘He won’t like you calling him that. He’s nearly four years old and thinks that’s grown up. If you asked him, he’d tell you he was a big boy.’

  ‘Of course,’ Elissa said. ‘No one likes to be called a baby. I’ll be more careful when I speak to him.’

  ‘I hope,’ Dido said, ‘that you will agree to what I’m going to suggest to you. I know my sister values your skill in the sewing room, and of course you often help my own handmaidens with my clothes and jewels, but I think it would put Lord Aeneas’ mind at rest if he knew that you would be Ascanius’ permanent nursemaid. I hope very much that you will enjoy the work. Tell me what you think, Elissa. He’s been in the care of Maron but I feel a girl would be more . . . well, more suitable.’

  ‘Oh, yes, my lady,’ said Elissa. ‘It would be an honour. Ascanius is a s
weet boy and I think he likes me. And Maron . . . he’s been very good with him, of course, but I’ll enjoy looking after him. I know I will.’

  Almost as though he’d been waiting for this to be arranged, Ascanius burst out from behind an enormous terracotta jar overflowing with flowers. Maron, who’d been so funny last night, making her and Tanith laugh with his antics as they were getting Ascanius ready for bed, was just behind the boy and waved a hand at Elissa to show he recognized her.

  ‘I’m hiding,’ Ascanius shouted. ‘No one came to find me. I’ll hide again. Elissa, you come and find me. Count to ten and then come.’

  Elissa stood up and started counting at once: ‘One . . . two . . . three . . .’

  ‘I’m ready.’ Ascanius had run back behind the jar. ‘Come and find me.’

  ‘Where can Ascanius be?’ Elissa said, pretending she had no idea. As she crept around the terrace, looking in all the wrong places, she was suddenly reminded of the games she’d never been able to play with her little brothers and sisters, and tears came into her eyes. Would she ever see any of them again? Did they miss her? Speak of her? Wonder what had happened to her? Did her mother cry into her pillow at night, grieving for her eldest daughter? She shook her head to clear it of such thoughts and said loudly: ‘What’s happened to Ascanius? I can’t find him anywhere—’

  ‘I’m here!’ shouted Ascanius, emerging from his hiding place.

  ‘So you are,’ Elissa said. The boy came running up to her and flung his arms around her knees. She bent down to hug him, stroking his brown curls, feeling his body against her legs. It was fragile and small and yet it held within it the promise of a man’s strength, his father’s vigour. Elissa shivered. She looked at Aeneas and he was smiling straight at her.

  ‘He’s very fond of you,’ he said. ‘That’s good. I want him to be happy more than I want anything in this world.’

  ‘I’ll look after him,’ Elissa said, watching the little boy as he ran off again. ‘He’s the same age as one of my own brothers. You don’t have to worry about him. We’ll stay here till it’s time for his supper. Then I’ll bathe him and put him to bed.’

  ‘And I’ll come and kiss him goodnight. Thank you, Elissa.’

  Elissa blushed and found herself longing for that hour. Ascanius would be in bed, and Aeneas would come to his room and she’d be there, and then . . . She couldn’t imagine what would happen then. She would be in Aeneas’ presence again, that was the main thing. How silly she was! Looking forward to the next time she might see him when he was still here, in front of her, and even speaking to her. I’m mad, she told herself. I’m being ridiculous.

  ‘Thank you, Elissa,’ said Dido. She stood up and turned to Aeneas, offering him her hand. He sprang up at once and they went off together. The queen kept her eyes firmly on the path in front of them, but Aeneas turned back and waved. At his son – because there was Ascanius, waving back – but also at me, Elissa thought as she lifted her arm. He may have been waving at the boy, but the smile was for me. How do you know that? she asked herself. How do you know it was for you? I just do, Elissa answered her own question. I could tell.

  She was going over the moment in her mind when Maron came up to her and said, ‘Are you happy to be alone with Ascanius for a while? Or would you like me to stay for a bit?’

  ‘Could you tell me a little about him? The kinds of things you do with him. I told Lord Aeneas that I had a brother of his age, but I’ve never looked after a child all by myself. It’s a bit . . . well, a bit alarming.’

  Maron sat down on a stone bench and smiled. ‘You’ll do very well, I think. I’ll talk to him . . . Here, Ascanius. Come over here.’

  The little boy looked up from the sand in which he was making marks with a pointed stick. Elissa wondered for a moment if it was safe for such a small child to have something that looked as though it could turn into a weapon at any moment, but before she could say anything Ascanius had thrown the stick away and come over to where Maron was sitting.

  ‘What?’ he said, and jumped on to Maron’s knee.

  ‘You’ve met Elissa,’ Maron said. ‘But I want you to say: Hello, Elissa, I’m going to be the best boy in the world for you. Go on, say it!’

  Ascanius giggled and began to pull Maron’s red hair. ‘Stop that, you little monkey!’ said Maron, but you could tell he wasn’t angry. He was grinning and pulled playfully on Ascanius’ hair. ‘I can pull harder than you can, so you’d better just stop!’

  Elissa wondered whether she ought to tell Maron to be serious, to be more grown up, but then decided not to.

  ‘I’m as much of a kid as he is – that’s what you’re thinking, isn’t it?’

  ‘No, not really,’ Elissa said.

  ‘I can see that you’re not used to telling fibs. You’re blushing . . . It’s all right. I am a bit of a kid, and I don’t care who knows it. We get on fine, don’t we, Ascanius? As long as you do what I say. And you must do exactly what Elissa says from now on. She’s going to be looking after you.’

  Ascanius ran over to Elissa and smiled up at her. ‘Good!’ he shouted. ‘Elissa won’t pull my hair. She’s nicer than you are. You’re horrible.’

  ‘I’m much more horrible than you think,’ Maron said, laughing. ‘I’m a monster.’ He stood up and formed his hands into claws and began to chase Ascanius around the garden. The two of them ran about with their faces twisted and their arms raised above their heads, shrieking loudly.

  ‘Stop! Both of you. Stop at once.’ Elissa was surprised how loudly she could shout when she had to.

  Maron caught Ascanius and swung him up on to his shoulders. He came over to where Elissa was standing and lifted him down to the ground.

  ‘Enough fooling around, right, Ascanius? We’re going to be as good and quiet as little lambs from now on.’

  ‘Not a lamb!’ Ascanius said. ‘A monster!’

  ‘Not any longer,’ Maron said firmly. ‘Monster time’s over for now. Another day we’ll play monsters again.’

  He turned to Elissa and said, ‘Will you do something for me, Elissa?’

  ‘Of course I will. I’m very grateful for your help with Ascanius.’

  ‘It’s about Tanith . . . is that her name? The curly-haired dark girl?’

  ‘Yes, Tanith . . . What about her?’ Elissa smiled and added: ‘As though I can’t guess. You want me to put in a good word for you, is that it?’

  Maron ran his fingers through his hair, pushing it off his forehead. He said, ‘Yes, that’d be great. If you don’t mind.’

  ‘Of course not. And now you’re the one who’s blushing.’

  ‘Naah . . .’ said Maron. ‘Not really. It’s a hot day. I’ve been in the sun too long. I burn very easily. It’s having red hair, you know. But thanks. For your help, I mean. Have fun with Ascanius.’

  He ran ahead of her and winked as he disappeared into the shade of the colonnades.

  Elissa smiled. Have fun. Maron was good at fun. He went through life enjoying everything. Some God must have smiled on him when he was born.

  The early part of the night; the maidservants’ bedchamber

  That was the first day, she reflected, lying on her back on the bed. Tanith and Nezral were breathing deeply but Elissa gazed into the darkness, still unable to fall asleep. I did a good thing for Tanith. I told her what Maron said and she was so happy about it. Or maybe it wasn’t a good thing at all, because now he’s gone and she’s sad. But she wouldn’t have wanted not to love Maron. I’m sure of that. And I was right about Aeneas too, she thought. He had been smiling at me, and what I understood in that look was there. It was. It truly was.

  Iopas

  Later in the night; Iopas’ bedchamber/the courtyard

  IOPAS STOOD AT the window of his bedchamber, looking down at the city and, beyond that, the harbour. The moonlight fell on a landscape of roofs, which during the day made a complicated pattern of russet brown and gold and white and black, with the gardens of the larger houses showing like splashes
of green. Now, clouds lay in wispy strands along the horizon and he could see the whole of Carthage, with its fine houses and temples and shops and workshops and markets spread out around the bay, leeched of their colour and seeming to be a uniform silvery grey. Points of light, like tiny yellow flowers, shone from the windows. Down on the sea, Aeneas’ ships waited for the dawn tide. Small figures, probably guards, stood at the entrance to the harbour. The Trojan was leaving. Well, Iopas thought, I for one was expecting it. There isn’t much I don’t know of what goes on in this place.

  Because of his quietness, the natural shyness that made it difficult for him to speak much in public unless he was performing, he had managed to learn a great deal. If he came into a room, for the most part the people in it didn’t stop talking on his account. You could discover a great many secrets like that, and you could also contrive to spend time in places which you’d normally steer clear of. He didn’t mind being the way he was except when it came to Elissa. Iopas knew that he’d missed an opportunity earlier, when they’d been sitting together on the bench in the corridor. Perhaps he should have been braver and said something about his feelings. For a long time he’d been able to see that she was besotted with Aeneas, but no one else seemed to realize so he said nothing. Even now that he was gone, she wasn’t ready to speak about it. He sighed.

  When Elissa first came to the palace, he’d been struck by her beauty, and the fact that she’d run away from home made him feel protective. She was no more than a pretty child then, but over the years she’d spent as a servant in the palace, she’d become a young woman and Iopas had noted the changes carefully. As she grew, so did his affection for her. Now, he told himself, it would be true to say I love her. He never spoke either to Elissa or to anyone else about his feelings but she was always quite friendly. I was jealous of her crush on the Trojan, he thought, but no one would have known just by looking at me. He sighed. For a long time, whenever he found himself dwelling on Elissa’s admiration for Aeneas, he’d had to keep himself carefully under control. The last thing he wanted was anyone feeling sorry for him, or thinking that Elissa actually preferred someone else. Anyway it was completely ridiculous for a mere servant to nurse a passion for someone so far above her in status. Madness. Aeneas was not only a prince, but the man who shared the queen’s bed, although it was true that lately the two of them had been more distant and were even heard to quarrel on occasion. Elissa hadn’t seemed to mind talking to him today, even though she was obviously feeling bad. It could be, he told himself, that with Aeneas gone, I might be in with a chance.