The Pillars of Rome by Jack Ludlow

your singing to the gods and asking them for favours hasn’t all been in vain, husband. Perhaps we have come into some good fortune at last.’
    ‘I wonder how much it’s worth?’
    ‘What?’
    Clodius was so busy looking at the gold he mistook Fulmina’s surprised reaction for a real question. ‘The gold charm. If we sell it, would it provide enough to buy another farm?’
    She scowled. ‘Tend that pot before it cracks, you fool!’
    Clodius hauled the pot out of the fire. Some of the water spilt on his hand and by its heat he knew that he had got to it just in time, which brought forth a sigh of relief. A pot like this, fired in acharcoal kiln, was worth a bit, a valuable item that they would find impossible to replace. Then he smiled; sell that charm and they could probably afford a dozen pots like this, perhaps even a beaten copper one. He turned to carry the water over to his wife, who had laid the tiny infant on the rough top of the wooden table. The baby kicked with both legs and thrust its arms in the air, pushing against Fulmina’s hands.
    ‘My,’ cooed Fulmina once more. ‘We have a little fighter here.’
    She proceeded to bathe the little fellow, gently removing the dark streaks of dried blood from his body. Now well fed, the tot seemed to be enjoying it, gazing at Fulmina with those steady blue eyes, and gurgling happily.
    ‘Well, what do you think?’ Clodius demanded.
    Fulmina didn’t take her eyes off the child. ‘Think. About what?’
    ‘About what?’ said Clodius impatiently, feeling that his good fortune in finding the child allowed him a little licence to berate his wife. ‘What have we just been talking about?’ He put out his hand and lifted the eagle so that it lay in his palm. ‘How much is it worth?’
    That made Fulmina stop her bathing. She stood up and stretched to her full height. This still left her a good head shorter than her husband. ‘You’re a fool, husband. All you can think of is selling thisthing so you can have enough money to carry on with your drinking.’
    ‘That’s not true. I asked if it was enough to buy a farm.’
    ‘You drank away one farm, Clodius,’ she sneered. ‘I daresay you could easily manage to drink away another.’ Fulmina reached up and tapped the side of his head. ‘Think for once and try and see past the first flask of wine. Somebody exposed this child in a secret place so he would not be found, but whoever put this charm on him wanted him to live. How many people round these parts could afford to own something like this?’
    Clodius shrugged.
    ‘Not many, husband, and how many of them would have had a child since the sun went down last night?’ She stopped talking, watching the slow look of comprehension cross her husband’s brow. ‘Shouldn’t be too hard to find that out if we ask around. Then we’ll know.’
    ‘What happens then?’
    ‘One thing at a time, husband. Let’s find out who this little fellow is, then we can decide what to do.’ She lifted the charm out of Clodius’s palm. ‘Whoever it is might pay more than the price of this to see him grow up to manhood.’
    ‘Fourteen years is a long time, Fulmina. Another mouth to feed.’
    His wife fixed him with a glacial stare. ‘We canmanage it, that is if you stay off the drink and get some kind of work. You made a pig’s ear of raising our brood, let’s see if you can do a better job on this one.’
    Clodius knew when he was beaten, knew when it was time to make a tactical withdrawal and his golden rule was always to change the subject. ‘Well, if he’s staying with us, he’ll need a name. What are we going to call him. What about Lupus, since he was born on the feast-night of Lupercalia .’
    Fulmina looked down at the charm. The eagle flashed, seeming to be truly in flight. ‘Not Lupus, husband. With a charm shaped like this, what else can we call him but Aquila.’
     
    They asked all over the district. There were often disagreements about exposing children,