Dido (23 page)

‘Elissa . . .' he breathed. ‘Am I dreaming?'

‘I'm dreaming,' she answered, and said, ‘Kiss me. Please kiss me.'

‘Are you sure? I don't know . . .'

‘I know,' she said. ‘I know . . .'

That was the last thing she remembered before she felt herself silenced and oblivious of everything except the knowledge that she was holding Aeneas at last in her arms, and they were both overwhelmed; robbed of words and weeping with pleasure.

Before dawn; the palace gardens/the small bedchamber

Thinking back on that night, Elissa remembered other things. How she'd wanted to leave and how he'd stopped her. They hadn't slept at all. Then he'd begged her forgiveness; begged her not to tell Dido; entreated her to forget what had happened between them. She'd promised to say not a word to anyone, and she hadn't until today. But now that Aeneas had gone, she felt no obligation to maintain her silence any longer. If she hid what had happened, that was because it suited her to do so and she wanted to. But, oh, Gods, she had told Iopas and wished fervently that she hadn't. What if he told Anna? He was very close to Dido's sister. What would she say? Or do? Elissa sighed, and standing up, she walked to the pond and let her hand dangle in the cool water. It was time to go back to her bedchamber soon.

She turned towards the palace and was surprised to find Cubby hurrying – almost running – through the garden and calling her name: ‘Elissa!'

‘Cubby! You've left the bed. What's happened? You look . . . Is something wrong?'

‘I don't know. Weird stuff's happening. I saw someone I didn't know, and when I said
Who goes there?
he didn't listen and just carried right on walking. I don't know who he was. He was very tall—'

‘And wearing a long grey cloak with a hood that covered his face. Am I right?'

‘Yes! Did you see him too?'

‘He walked past me and right into the palace. I've no idea who he was. How odd.'

‘Anyway,' said Cubby, ‘I've got to go back to the bed. I'm still on guard.'

He squared his shoulders and tried to look tough. Elissa hid her smile.

‘Why did you come out here, though? It wasn't to tell me about the man in the grey cloak, was it?'

Cubby hit his head with the flat of his hand. ‘I forgot! I was meant to tell you to go and speak to the queen. She's sent for you. You're to go now.'

‘Thank you, Cubby. I'm glad you remembered. I wouldn't want to keep her waiting. Especially not tonight.'

‘Right,' said Cubby. ‘Best hurry then.'

Elissa began to run up the long path towards the doorway of the palace. Cubby followed her, not exactly running but stumbling along as quickly as he could. He was out of breath, but still managed to point to the colonnade across the courtyard. He whispered: ‘There he is! See, he's still there. Behind one of the columns. Can you see him?' Cubby peered into the dimness and pointed.

‘I see him,' Elissa said, ‘but I'm going to leave it to you to find out who he is. I have to go to the queen.'

‘Right,' said Cubby. ‘I'll try. But he looks a bit scary, don't you think?'

Elissa didn't answer. Her mind was on the queen.

‘You sent for me, lady.' Elissa stood in the doorway, hesitant, and with her hair dishevelled.

‘Come in, child. Come and sit down and talk to me. It's been such a long night. I'm so tired . . .'

‘I can come back if you'd like to sleep.'

‘No, no . . . I wish I could but it's impossible. The dreams would be too painful. Being awake is also painful. I can't find any comfort, Elissa. I'm sick with misery. I wish I could close my eyes and sleep for ever and never wake up.'

‘Please don't say that, lady. Only Death gives us endless sleep.'

‘I'd welcome him. I wish he'd come and take me down into darkness with him. No, don't cry, Elissa dear. I
do
want to talk to you. You comfort me. You're like a daughter to me, you know. The nearest thing to a child I've ever had – do you realize that?'

Elissa nodded. ‘And I've thought of you as a kind of mother too, even though a royal one.'

Dido smiled. ‘You look well. It's been a pleasant life for you here, hasn't it?'

‘Oh, yes! Yes . . .' Elissa said, and wondered how to go on. Why had the queen sent for her? Perhaps it was just what it seemed to be: Dido is lonely and thinks of
me kindly, even though she's so unhappy. Elissa felt hot with shame, as though perhaps in this small room the truth about Aeneas and how he had deceived her would come to Dido in a flash of understanding.

‘Come and sit beside me, Elissa. I want to ask you something. Do you promise to answer me truthfully?'

Elissa nodded and sat down on the bed, pleating the fabric of her skirt and looking down at her knees. She licked her lips, then started biting the bottom one. Dido was silent and a feeling of dread came over Elissa. She waited and waited and at last the queen began to speak.

‘Iopas came to see me,' she said. ‘He told me something.'

Elissa felt rage like a mist blinding her. Iopas . . . He'd betrayed her and she thought for a moment that she would scream with fury and misery, but she said nothing. Her fingers went on twisting the material of her skirt and she stared down at them as though they weren't a part of her at all. Dido said, ‘D'you want to know what he told me?'

‘No, I know what he told you. I mean, I can guess, I think.' It was hard to speak when she was holding herself together, trying not to weep, trying not to scream.

Dido went on: ‘He said you're pregnant. Is it true, Elissa?'

Elissa nodded. Dido sighed and went on: ‘How long have you known?'

‘Not long. A few days really.'

‘And you didn't tell me? Or anyone?'

‘No. I wasn't . . . I wasn't sure.'

‘And now you are.' Dido stood up and went to the window. She'd turned her back on Elissa, who was blinking to stop herself from crying. I'm not going to cry. I can't cry. I won't. But what'll happen now? How can I breathe?

When Dido spoke, it sounded to Elissa as though she too was near to tears. She couldn't even speak aloud, but whispered, ‘Who is it? Who is the father?'

‘I'd rather not tell you, lady. It's not important. Really, it's better that you don't know.'

Dido whirled round and started screaming at Elissa, hysterical: ‘Better! Better for whom, I'd like to know? It's
not
better for me. You randy little bitch! Iopas told me who you'd been with, and I curse the bones and blood and breath and skin of your child. I curse his father, who could lie with my servant when he was married to
me
. To the Queen of Carthage, who would have given him everything.
Everything
. . . And in my palace. You lay with him in
my
palace. What were you thinking of? How could you? You were like my child, Elissa, but now I can't even look at you. Go. I want you to go and never come near me again. I don't want to see you in the palace. Leave. Go to your family in the hills and have your damned baby and I wish you nothing but anguish and sorrow for ever. Go, go.'

Elissa sat stunned, and the tears poured from her eyes and she said nothing. Every bit of her – skin, eyes, nose, hair –
everything
felt scorched, as though Dido's words were fire, burning her. She sobbed and then put
a hand over her mouth, and then gasped for air because suddenly she couldn't breathe properly. She couldn't move. Couldn't stand up. Couldn't do anything but sit uselessly on the bed and wish she might die.

For a long time the two women sat in silence. Elissa wanted to go, to leave this small prison of a room and flee to her own bedchamber. But she didn't dare to move till Dido spoke, and the queen showed no sign of wanting to speak.

‘Aren't you going to say anything?' Dido asked suddenly. Her voice sounded stronger. Elissa tried to compose herself.

‘I don't know what to say.'

‘Of course you don't! There are no excuses. How did you dare? After all that I've done for you. I've looked after you and tried to be good to you and even' – Dido's voice wavered a little as she continued – ‘thought tenderly of you, as though you were much more to me than a handmaiden. And you do this. Oh, Elissa, if I were stronger I would beat you with my own hands. I'd throw you out of the palace if I had any sense. How
could
you? I thought you were devoted to me. I thought I could trust you, Elissa. How could you add so much pain to the torments I was feeling already?'

‘I don't know,' Elissa said. ‘I was . . . I couldn't help it. I knew it was wrong. I knew it would hurt you if you found out about us – me and Aeneas.'

‘How dare you speak his name and yours in the
same breath?' Dido was shrieking now. ‘Are you trying to torture me with every single thing you say? Because that's what you're doing. Go. I don't want to see you ever again. Leave now.'

‘Leave the palace? Go back to my parents' home? Oh, please, no, lady. I'd do anything. Anything at all if you'd forgive me. If you'd only let me stay here, in Carthage, I promise you I'd never do anything else to displease you. Please. Tell me what I can do to make matters right between us.'

Dido went to the window and stood with her back to Elissa. ‘You'd do anything?' she whispered. ‘Would you rid yourself of his child? There are ways.'

Elissa could feel the blood drain away from her face and thought for a moment she was going to faint. She wanted to speak but couldn't. The air seemed to ripple and move in front of her eyes. She had promised the queen.
Anything
, she'd said. If there were words in the world which she might have uttered, Elissa didn't know what they might be. She sank on to the bed and began to weep.

Then, suddenly, Dido was there, sitting next to her; she put an arm around Elissa and began to sob herself. ‘Oh, Elissa, listen to me. Listen to my cruelty and cursings – I take them back. I do. I truly do. I'm sorry, sorry, sorry. Forget what I said. What I just said, most of all. I wish you a good life and a good birth and your child nothing but good things. It's not your fault. I understand how it must have been. It was
him
. The bastard Aeneas, who loves nothing and no one but
himself and helps himself to any young woman who crosses his path and doesn't care. Doesn't care about anything. I know you love me. You do, don't you? Love me? Stay with me, Elissa. Don't go. I didn't mean it. None of it. I'm crazed. He's made me lose my reason, and I'll never forgive him. It's
him
I curse. May he never know a moment's peace and may the nation he founds be blighted and doomed and never thrive. Carthage will be its enemy for ever. If Aeneas is the beginning of a dynasty, then my people will be the enemies of his people. I vow that on my life, Elissa. You can go. Go to your room. Rest. I'm sorry for what I said. Forgive me.'

Elissa tried to get up but the queen's arms were tight around her neck and she was weeping. ‘I forgive you, Elissa. I do. I forgive you everything. I'll miss you so much.'

‘But you said I could stay in the palace. Why will you miss me? You said—'

‘
Of course
you can stay. I don't know what I'm saying. Weariness has made me mad. Don't listen to me.'

Elissa put her arms up to embrace the queen and they clung together, weeping. At last Dido pulled away and sat up, drying her eyes with the edge of her robe.

‘You can see how much I am not myself,' she said, and Elissa understood the effort it cost her to sound normal. ‘It's strange, you know. I've never been interested in babies. I've never had any desire to be pregnant. I've seen what it does to a woman's body – how it makes your stomach swell and how lumbering and clumsy you become when you're carrying another
human being inside you. The very thought is disgusting. As for birth itself, I've not seen many babies being born, but two or three's quite enough. What's clear is, it's agonizing. The women bellow like cows being slaughtered. There's so much blood and bodily fluids everywhere . . . It's revolting.' She looked at Elissa and smiled. ‘I shouldn't be speaking like this about it to you, of course, but I expect you've seen birth and know just as well as I do what's involved.'

Elissa nodded. ‘Yes,' she said, and was wondering whether she ought to tell Dido about the visit of Artemis and her promise of help with the birth when the queen went on: ‘Until quite recently, when I imagined myself in that posture, with my legs apart and screaming like a stuck boar, I told myself that I'd never, never submit to such torture. But then, after my marriage, those feelings just vanished.'

Dido glanced at Elissa. ‘Since that day, I've wanted Aeneas' child to fill my body; to grow within me. Isn't that odd? I don't fear giving birth any longer. I was ready to go through any pain. I would have been brave. And you do hear stories of easy deliveries. Some women find the process completely painless and untroubling. I collected countless tales of peasants who gave birth in the fields and then picked themselves up and went on gathering in the crops.'

Elissa stood up. ‘If you give me permission, lady, I'll leave you now.'

Dido said nothing, but waved her hand in a gesture of dismissal and Elissa fled.

She ran down the corridors till she came to Iopas' chamber. Without knocking, she flung open the door, and seeing him sitting at his table writing away on a parchment as though he'd done nothing inflamed her to such an extent that she began to shout as soon as she was in the room.

‘Iopas, how could you do such a thing? Don't speak. I don't want to hear your excuses. I wish I had the strength to hit you, to fight you. If I were a man, I'd beat you with my fists and bite you and kick you and spit on you when I'd finished. How did you dare to betray my secret? I thought you were my friend. I thought . . . Oh, what does it matter what I thought? It's not true, any of it. What matters is what's happened. You . . .
you
, Iopas, have ruined everything. My life, Dido's life, everything. She's so hurt. Did you know that she wanted a baby with Aeneas? How do you think knowing about me makes her feel? And me – how do you think I feel? Why do you sit there and say nothing?'