The Golden Dice - A Tale of Ancient Rome by Elisabeth Storrs Page B

His wife had only borne a daughter. A girl’s hands could never wield his weapons. In time, though, they grew strong enough to lift his tools.
    Lollius soon became more soldier than farmer, forced to leave the harvest to his women through summers that grew ever hotter and where no rain fell. The heat bathed wife and daughter in sweat, withering the crops and denying their goat and geese any water.
    Praying to Mater Matuta to grant a fruitful harvest was of no use. And paying a war tax to fund his own salary both galled him and bled Lollius dry. And so to tide his family over while he was fighting the Volscians, he made a contract with his patron. On one side of the scales were weights of copper; on the other his oath to forfeit his freedom should his liabilities not be discharged.
    Pinna remembered rising before dawn to do men’s work, leaving her to perform her usual chores after dusk. Soon her palms were blistered, her face burned, her ten-year-old body growing lean. She would cry from weariness, but her mother continued with bleak determination, knowing their debts were growing even if their crops were not. Soon she needed to borrow more for seed and fodder and food, until Lollius returned that last bitter winter to find them eating gruel, his animals sold, his land barren and his patrician creditor at his door.
    “ I will find the money to free you,” her mother had promised as Lollius was fettered in chains.
    “ Feed yourself and Pinna instead.” He was unable to meet their eyes as he was led away to bondage, dragging the weight of those heavy irons, shuffling his feet, his shoulders slumped.
    Pinna could not let him go . She clutched at one of his large hands with its wrist scraped raw from struggling. She squeezed his fingers, wanting his toughness to be transferred to her, but they were limp and he did not bid her farewell.
    Remembering her loss, Pinna joined in the taunting. She was overcome with hatred for Aemilius. He may not have been the nobleman who ruined her father but he was just the same, just as cruel.
    Calvus held up his hands. The clamor died away. “Perhaps the patricians want the common man to be away in winter for another reason. After all, the elections are to be held in a few weeks. If a man is absent from Rome he cannot vote. Isn’t it enough that the aristocracy denies us a chance to govern? Now they want to prevent us voting at all. I say no to a winter campaign. I say no to any levy of troops!”
    Pinna nodded as she listened to the plebeian with the upright stance and righteous demeanor. This man may have been excluded from being a senator, magistrate or consul, but he did hold power. Power that he wielded as smugly as any highborn. As one of the ten people’s tribunes he could indeed veto any law that was proposed, any edict the Senate declared.
    The portly Aemilius waggled one finger at him like an irascible tutor. “You’re talking mutiny while you should be swearing fealty.”
    Once again the throng howled. A few stray missiles were thrown. Pinna could smell their sweat and fury. Fearing a riot could break out she glanced around her, wondering if she could escape across the rooftops instead of having to brave the crush of incensed citizens. Others must have been thinking the same as they scrambled to higher ground. Soon there was a gallery of observers balanced atop the terracotta roof tiles of buildings lining the forum.
    From the corner of her eye, Pinna saw a man stride from the steps of the nearby Senate House and ascend the platform. He bowed to the others. Calvus stiffly responded but Aemilius scowled as did Sergius and Verginius. Pinna wondered why the three patricians were annoyed by the newcomer. After all, it was another of their class.
    Green Teeth tugged at Runny Nose. “It’s Marcus Furius Camillus. I fought under him this year at Anxur. He is a true warrior, a leader worth following. It’s a pity he can’t be elected general two years in a row.”
    Amid the tumult