Dido (25 page)

‘Not any more. The queen sent me to tell you you can go. Back to your quarters. You can go to sleep is what I mean. What
she
means, I mean.'

‘As if! The queen talking to the likes of you? Maybe I'm still asleep and dreaming this. Gotta be that.'

‘No, look.' Cubby didn't blame the guard for his words. It
was
a bit unbelievable, the idea that the queen would give her orders through someone like him. He didn't properly believe it himself. He held out his open hand with the ring lying on it. ‘This is the queen's ring. I told her you wouldn't believe me and she gave me this. To show you.'

‘Bloody Hades! It
is
the royal seal too. You sure you've not just stolen this?'

‘No, of course I haven't. The queen gave it to me, I told you already.' Tears pricked in Cubby's eyes and he blinked rapidly to stop them from falling. Guards didn't cry. Not for any reason. They just didn't. He said: ‘If she finds you haven't obeyed her orders, she'll be upset. Cross. You should go now.'

‘Not arguing with you, mate,' said the soldier. ‘Could do with a bit of kip and that's a fact. Feels as though I've been here for ever. Come on, you.' He prodded his companion in the ribs and the two of them slouched away in the direction of the guards' quarters. Cubby watched them go. I'm the only guard left now, he thought. I'm not going to bed, even though the queen said I could.

He sat down on one of the stone benches set on either side of the doorway and leaned his back against the wall. He slipped the ring on to one of his fingers. Would he be allowed to wear it? Wouldn't everyone think he'd stolen it? They would, but then the queen can put them right, he told himself. She can say:
I gave that to Akbar
, and everyone'd have to believe her. She'd have to explain to them who Akbar was, but she could do that. They'd believe her. They might even start calling him that too. Akbar. He was starting to like the sound of it.

He fell asleep almost at once. Then he had a dream. That woman – Aphrawhatsit – the beautiful one he'd seen on the hunt and when they'd first brought the
bed into the courtyard – was here again, and what's more, sitting right next to him. Should he say something? Maybe better not.

‘I can't prevent it,' she said. ‘Even the Gods are powerless sometimes. My son is sailing out of the harbour because that's his destiny. He couldn't stay here. And Dido – Dido has her fate too. I've tried to prevent it. Now we have to wait.'

‘Wait? What for?' Cubby thought: I'm talking in my sleep.

‘For things to come to pass, boy. Look down there.'

‘D'you mean the tall man in the grey cloak. I've seen him before. He coming here?'

‘Of course. He has an appointment with the queen. I wish I could turn him away. I can't.'

‘Well,' said Cubby, trying to sound cheerful; to console this pretty lady, who was looking a bit teary-eyed. ‘Maybe she's looking forward to seeing him. Maybe he's a friend of hers.'

‘Don't say that! How
dare
you say that!' She stood up then and drifted away. Her skirts floated around her ankles and there was that tinkling noise again he remembered from before. Those silver bells sewn on her clothes. And the lovely smell. But why was she so angry? Cubby had no idea and was too tired to work it out.

‘Keep your hair on!' he shouted after her. ‘I've not done anything wrong.'

The sun rising; the maidservants' bedchamber/Dido's bedchamber/Iopas' bedchamber/the courtyard

‘
WAKE UP, ELISSA.
Listen to me. Oh, please wake up, child!'

‘I'm awake. What is it? What do you want? Oh . . .' Elissa struggled to sit up, still half asleep but realizing all at once that it wasn't either Tanith or Nezral or even the Lady Anna who was pulling at her gown, but Hera, the queen of all the Goddesses on Olympus. ‘Am I still asleep? Is it you, Hera?'

‘Of course it's me, girl. There's no time to lose. You must go at once. I need your help. Dido needs your help.'

‘Why, what's the matter?'

Instead of answering, the Goddess sat down on Elissa's bed and tears began to flow from her eyes. She gathered her cloak, trimmed with peacock feathers, around her shoulders and Elissa thought she looked more like a sad old woman than an inhabitant of
Olympus. Hera said, ‘There's nothing more I can do. I can only send you to help her and see to it that she doesn't suffer too much. Go, go to Dido's chamber – the royal bedchamber, not the little room she's been hiding in . . . She's there choosing garments to wear for this day.'

‘Then she must feel better,' Elissa said, and got out of bed. ‘If she's dressing.'

‘That depends on what she is dressing for,' Hera said. ‘What occasion.'

‘Is there to be a special occasion?'

‘Don't ask so many questions. Just go. Go and be beside her, I beg of you. Help her as much as you can. Remember that I'm there, watching you both, even if you can't see me. I will come with you as far as the queen's door.'

Elissa left her room, aware of the Goddess floating beside her. When they reached Dido's bedchamber, they found it closed.

‘Shall I knock? What shall I do?' Elissa asked.

‘Take this feather and I will open the door. Step inside and say nothing. Dido will neither see nor hear us, but we will see her and her companion.'

Elissa was about to say,
What companion?
when the door to the chamber swung open and she shrank back, chilled with terror. The tall man in the long grey cloak was there, with his hood pulled over his face so that his features were hidden. The queen was speaking to him.

‘I remember you,' she said, looking up at him. ‘I saw you once before. As I walked up from the harbour on
the day my lord arrived in the city. Who are you? How did you get past my guards? How dare you come into my room without my permission? And take that hood off if you want to speak to me.'

‘There are not many who can look at my face, but you are capable of it.' The voice that came from the folds of the cloak was low and grating, as though speech was difficult. ‘I am Hades, God of Death. Good and bad, everyone comes to me in the end.'

Elissa trembled as white, bony hands pushed back the hood of the grey cloak. She saw how Dido flinched as she stared at the black beard and the hollow cheeks. The God had so little flesh on his bones that you could see his skull quite clearly. His eyes were dark and shadowed and had no flicker of life in them. Elissa thought that looking into them would be like falling into a bottomless well. An icy mist clung to Hades' figure and drifted into every part of the room.

Dido gave a mirthless laugh. ‘I'm not frightened of you, you know. Indeed, I find myself drawn to you. Will you kiss me? I long for your cold white mouth on mine. Has anyone ever said such words to you before?'

‘Multitudes. There are many who seek me out. Who love me.'

‘I could love you now,' Dido said. ‘I long to come with you. Take me in your arms and kiss me. Give me your hand and I will follow.'

‘It is almost time. We will meet again, you may be sure, Dido. And in the meantime, a kiss to seal the promise of your love for me.'

Hades bent his head and Elissa saw the God kiss Dido, who flinched and cried out but who nevertheless leaned in towards him, almost swooning against his chest. She put out her hand to touch his face. He stroked the queen's hair, then turned and walked away. At once the warmth of the night returned and Dido went back to sit on the bed. She covered her eyes with her hands.

Elissa came forward, dropping the peacock feather on the floor. ‘Lady, I have come to help you dress – to help you choose what to wear.'

‘Who told you to come? How did you know I was here? I'm perfectly well able to choose something by myself . . .'

Elissa was about to tell the queen about Hera but it was clear that Dido had forgotten she'd even asked the question. She stood by the chest that held her finest robes and threw it open.

‘Once,' she said, ‘when I was a very small girl, in my native city of Tyre, snow fell on the high ground. Do you know what snow is? No, how could you know?'

‘I've seen it,' Elissa said. ‘You forget that I was born in a mountain village. I remember it.'

‘I loved it. We children ran out and scooped up handfuls of the soft, white, wet stuff. I put some in my mouth to taste it. The cold made my lips numb and yet they burned at the same time: isn't that strange? Well, now I've felt it again. I've found someone new to love me, Elissa. Better than Aeneas. His kiss is like an icy branding iron and he's marked me. I'm his for ever now.'

Dido began to take out the clothes in the chest and lay them on the bed. She moved, Elissa noticed, slowly and languidly, as though swimming in the air. She said, ‘Sit down, Elissa. You can't simply stand over there like a statue. Come here and sit on the bed and help me to dress.'

Elissa obeyed and Dido went on speaking. ‘I've been silent for most of the night, Elissa. I'm tired of keeping my thoughts to myself. My dearest sister left me a phial of the healer's sleeping draught and soon, very soon, I will sleep, but not yet. There it is, on the table over there. I've been turning over in my mind what I will do now that Aeneas is no longer here in Carthage. I could go back to my life as it was before he arrived, couldn't I?'

Elissa nodded eagerly. ‘No one would blame you. Your people would still love you just the same.'

‘Yes, but they would
speak
. I am the queen, and everyone at court, in the city, in the countryside beyond – my friends and allies, my enemies and detractors – they'd all have opinions and they wouldn't be slow to voice them. Can't you just imagine it? Listen:
She was bamboozled, just like any serving wench. Couldn't keep her legs together, and look what happens? He leaves her, doesn't he? And she's high and dry. And that's not all. Not by a long chalk. He's been meddling with her maid too, and guess what? That chubby child – yes, the maid's kid – that's Aeneas' work. No doubt. I wonder that she lets the child have the run of the palace. Generous but stupid, I call it.
'

‘Don't say such things, my lady,' Elissa cried, tears
beginning to gather in her eyes. ‘Please . . .' Dido had adopted a stupid voice, a common accent, like the lowest of the servants. She thought: I won't stay here if that's what she's going to keep on doing – being unkind to me.

‘You can't leave her,' Hera whispered in Elissa's ear. ‘Remember all I told you. She needs you, Elissa.'

Dido clearly hadn't heard anything. She was still speaking, half to Elissa and half to herself. ‘I couldn't bear it, d'you understand? Whispers wherever I went. Sideways looks. The disgusting
pity
on every face.
Poor Dido
. Even if I were to send you back to your village – oh Gods, don't look at me like that, child. I have no intention of sending you anywhere. But imagine if I did, how the gossips would prattle and there'd be no way of hiding the truth. What am I saying? I'm not myself. You know that I love you . . . Elissa – why should you be punished when I myself lost what little sense I had in Aeneas' presence? Why should I blame you when I too have been acting like a lovesick fool? And then, even worse, more wounding than the voices of the living would be the memories of the dead. What will historians and poets say about me? What will they write? What'll remain carved on tablets of stone? You don't think that matters but it does, and I know exactly how the story will be presented.'

Dido sank on to the bed and hid her head in her hands.

‘Say something to her,' Hera whispered. ‘Anything.'

‘How?' Elissa asked. ‘How will it be presented?'

‘It'll be written by men. I won't be important enough to merit a mention on my own account. No, it'll be a brief appearance in tales of Aeneas' bright journey to fame and power. To triumph.
The great leader, Aeneas, stopped in Carthage on his way to found a powerful nation and fell in love briefly with the queen, whose name was Dido
. That's what they'll say. Unless I make the story mine. And I have the power to do that. I have a way of changing everything. And I will do it, I promise you, Elissa.'

‘Are you looking for a particular dress, lady?' Elissa asked.

‘I've found it. The robes I wore on the day of the hunt. The robes that I was married in. Here. Help me take off this rag.'

Elissa stepped forward and eased the soiled garment over the queen's head. It was damp with the sweat of the night, and torn where Dido's nails must have plucked at it.

‘Throw it away, Elissa.' Dido kicked the dress from where it lay on the floor at her feet into the furthest corner of the room. ‘Give me the white robes . . . Yes, that's good. And now I must have a crown. I need a crown.'

‘Shall I comb your hair, lady?' How could the queen place a crown over this dishevelled mop of tangled curls? It would look ridiculous. ‘Please sit here and let me attend to it.'

Dido sighed. ‘Very well, child,' she said. ‘If you like. It makes no difference to me.'

Elissa picked up the comb, carved from a single piece of ivory, and began to draw it through the mass of hair. Slowly, gently, she teased apart the knots and tangles, and Dido closed her eyes. She might fall asleep as I work, Elissa thought, and was careful not to pull or hurt the queen in any way. There was silence in the bedchamber, but for Dido's quiet breathing.

‘Aren't you finished yet?' she said suddenly, sitting up abruptly. ‘Surely it's done by now?'

‘Well enough,' Elissa said. She gathered all the hair together into a knot at the nape of Dido's neck and fastened this with an ebony clasp.

‘Thank you, Elissa.' Dido stood up and went to the jewel chest that stood in a corner of her chamber, where her most prized treasures were kept. Now, carelessly, the lid was flung open and the soft leather pouches containing the queen's most precious gems were thrown on to the bed as though they were worthless. Dido bent down and took out her best headdress: a circle of gold set with amber, lapis lazuli and pearls; with topazes, emeralds and chalcedony.