Marcus Aurelius Betrayed (14 page)

“But I can’t remember such...”

“Write what you remember,” commanded Severus standing up. “When you’re finished, tell the guard to call me.”

The judge opened the door and left the room. An armed marine in full uniform came in, closed the door behind him, and stood guard against it.

“What did he write?” asked Artemisia later that night.

Severus handed her the papyrus that Petamon had written.

“Drivel. He claims a failure of memory. He says he was drunk. He doesn’t remember anyone leaving their couch during the party.”

“Not even himself, when he went to make pre-sex ablutions?”

“He doesn’t mention it.”

“Or Secundus’ dance on his couch?”

“He doesn’t mention that either.”

“That’s not much help.”

“On the contrary,” corrected Severus. “I now have his affidavit in writing. That means he can’t come forward at the trial of Secundus with any story that he saw Ganymede do it.”

“I see,” said Artemisia laughing. “Very neat.”

XXI

CLIMBING THE LIGHTHOUSE

I
n the three days following Severus’ interview with Petamon, there was some progress. Severus prepared for Secundus’ trial and listened to the reports of his aides. Straton had succeeded in worming his way into the Moon Gate Serapeum as a devotee and with the help of the young initiate Psen-Mon, had met some of the other priests. Two of them had been in the Rhodes Serapeum at the time of the Paulina Affair and Straton was working on teasing information out of them.

A report from the Prefect said that an expert had confirmed the antiquities he purchased from Isarion were all genuine.

Vulso reported that Secundus and Cupid had, for the most part, remained together in Cupid’s apartment. One night, two girls had gone there and stayed until the next morning.

Severus and Artemisia took a day to go to the Pharos Lighthouse and climb to the top. First, with other tourists, they boarded a wagon which took them up a ramp to an entrance part-way up the first stage – the square almost
300 foot high base. Then they climbed up inside, stopping here and there to peer out the slitted windows. At the top of this level there was an observation deck with a great view and food vendors with snacks and drinks. Severus and Artemisia concentrated on the view, walking around the octagonal base of the next stage enjoying the magnificent, breathtaking scene – the sea on one side, the city on the other. Though most tourists stopped at this stage, some with aching thighs and dizzy from the height, it was only a start for Severus and Artemisia who were determined to go on and up to the fire chamber and reflecting mirror.

The second stage was the octagonal 100 foot tower where they entered and ascended a spiral ramp, along with a few tourists and carts carrying up wood to feed the flame at the top. But at the top of the octagonal tower there was another observation deck. Now almost 400 feet high, 4 times as high as the 10-story
insula
of Felicula in Rome, they were buffeted about by even stronger winds than below, and were even more amazed by the magnificent panoramic view of the gleaming white city and the sparkling blue-green sea. They could even see to the south past the city to the Nile delta and Egypt itself.

Artemisia flung her arms out wide, with her feet wide apart, and her head tilted upward to the Sun, feeling the wind and smiling into the sky. Then she threw her arms about her husband, whispering into his ear, “If there were no other people around, I would throw off all my clothes and make love to you right here.” Severus put his arms around her and melted in her embrace.

But there was still one more level to go; the third 100-foot tower, circular in shape, leading to the fire chamber and mirror on top. After resting for a bit, they looked
up, nodded to each other and went up, this time up a stair case surrounding a central shaft where a lift system could convey firewood on palettes to the top. When they finally made it to the top, they were tired and out of breath, but invigorated from completing the climb. Once again they admired the view, now from almost 500 feet up. Here they were almost giddy from the height, even a little scared from the narrowness of the top chamber, but they were still enthralled. They had never been so high.

Now they walked around the huge bronze mirror that reflected the central fire 30 miles out to sea at night. The guide on top told the tourists stories that the curved mirror had the property of magnifying objects in the distance and sometimes they could see across the Mediterranean to the city of Byzantium in Europe. But, said the guide ruefully, the weather won’t permit it today. That left most of the tourists skeptical because the weather was perfect.

After the long climb down, Severus hired a two-person litter to take them back to their apartment in the Hadrianum. They first fell asleep in the litter and then, reaching their apartment, collapsed into bed without having dinner and slept until the middle of the night. Then they awoke, remembered being high in the middle of the sky, threw open the shutters of their bedroom to allow in as much wind as possible, threw off their bed clothes, and made love excitedly, passionately and several times.

In the following days they recovered and attended the theater, one Greek play and one musical performance of citharists, and then spent two evenings in the suburb of Canopus, enjoying the pleasures of a pleasure city with the crowds of carefree Alexandrians seeking a good
time. They were attended by their slaves, Glykon and Galatea, on these evenings until at one point Severus noticed both slaves were not in sight.

“Where are they?” he asked his wife.

She smiled at him. “I told them they could go off by themselves and have a good time in Canopus. You may not have noticed but they’ve become lovers ever since we arrived here.”

Severus smiled back and put his arm around her. “The magic of Egypt!”

“Yes, my
deliciae
, the magic of Egypt!”

On the third day, Artemisia had her own schedule – a special tour of places associated with the life of Cleopatra. An historian from the Museum guided her through the old palace by the harbor that Cleopatra used 200 years before to the place where the queen and Marcus Antonius were buried side by side. The guide told her about Cleopatra and Antonius together, about how they played dice together, hunted and fished together, went incognito into the streets of Alexandria at night together and named themselves and the group of companions in their flamboyant life style the ‘Inimitable Livers.’ At the palace Artemisia was shown the dining hall where Cleopatra on a bet famously dissolved a priceless pearl earring in vinegar and drank it. And where the food she and Antonius had at their banquets was cooked to perfection, always ready to serve at a moment’s notice. How did the cooks manage this? the guide asked rhetorically. If they were having roast boar, they had eight boars roasting in the kitchen, all at different stages, so that whenever Cleopatra and her guests were ready, so would be one of the boars. She was also a gifted linguist, mentioned the guide, speaking 9 or 10 languages, including
Greek, Latin, Egyptian, Aramaic, Hebrew, Parthian and Ethiopian.

“What a woman”! exclaimed Artemisia admiringly.

“Perhaps too wild and uncontrollable,” replied the guide.

“What a woman”! repeated Artemisia.

That night, when Severus and Artemisia returned from their evening stroll, Alexander was waiting with a message. Severus had rarely seen him so excited.

“It’s from Manassah ben Jacob,” said Alexander. “The Jewish scholar who is helping us find the missing books. They made contact.”

“Excellent,” said Severus. “Who with?”

“Manassah had told a book seller he knows about the interest of the Jewish community in getting the Hebrew book back. The bookseller spread the word around and has received what he thinks is a serious feeler. The thieves, he says, want 10,000 sesterces in Roman gold coins. That’s 100 gold aurei.”

“Good,” replied Severus. “We have them on the hook. Tell Manassah not to overdo it. The price doesn’t matter. Tell him to arrange a meeting.”

XXII

ALEXANDER AND MANASSAH BEN JACOB BUY A BOOK

T
wo days later negotiations between intermediaries were completed and final arrangements made for the purchase of the stolen Hebrew book,
The Wisdom of Ben Sira
. The price was 10,000 sesterces, paid in 100 gold Roman aurei. The sellers had designated a place for the exchange as the back room of the taverna in the Egyptian section called “The Two Crocodiles”. The time was to be the 8
^th
hour of the day, early afternoon.

“That’s the same taverna where Petamon and Cupid met,” observed Severus. “Alexander, you go with Manassah to the meeting. I’ll requisition the money from the provincial treasury and Vulso will take a squad of marines from the
Argo
to surround the neighborhood and arrest whoever you meet after the transfer.”

At the appointed hour Manassah ben Jacob and Alexander entered the taverna and asked a slave-waiter for the back room. Manassah was tall and wiry and dressed in a long robe of Judaean design; Alexander was
in a simple brown tunic under a plain cloak. The place was fairly crowded, with belly dancers and musicians going full blast. The slave pointed to a beaded curtain and the two men walked through it. No one was there. They sat down at the only table and waited. Alexander pulled his cloak tightly around him and felt the two pouches uncomfortably dangling from his belt. Each pouch contained 50 gold aurei. No one came to take an order for drinks. A half hour passed.

“Maybe they’re not coming,” ventured Manassah.

They continued to wait.

A short time later the curtain parted and two men entered. They were also wearing cloaks, with hoods covering their heads, obscuring a good view of their faces. One was a thin, wiry man, while the cloak couldn’t obscure the size and bulk of the other. He looked like a gladiator or wrestler from his size and bearing. The thin man sat down, while the huge one positioned himself against the wall and watched.

“Do you have the money?” the thin man asked. His voice was edgy.

Manassah nodded. “Do you have the book?”

The other nodded in response. “Let’s see the money first.”

Manassah nodded to Alexander who withdrew the pouches from his belt and put them on the table. The man grabbed for the first one, emptied it and smiled as he ran his fingers through the gold coins. He then reached inside his cloak and pulled out a cylindrical case, from which he extracted a scroll. He shoved it across the table to Manassah and reached for the second pouch and looked inside.

Manassah mumbled a quick prayer in Hebrew and opened the scroll, scanning it rapidly. “It’s the one we want,” he said to Alexander and got up to go.

The large man came over and gently pushed Manassah and Alexander back into their seats. “We’ll leave first,” said the thin man, “just as soon as I finish counting the money.”

He poured coins out of the second pouch, counted them all, put the gold back into the pouches, closed both pouches and then rose. “You two will wait here another hour.”

Manassah and Alexander sat still.

The two men then went through the curtain, through the tavern and out the front entrance. They walked right into the arms of Vulso and the squad of marines from the
Argo
.

“You’re under arrest,” said Vulso, as the squad drew their swords and surrounded them, pushing them against a wall. Some of the marines kept the crowd back, while others searched the two captives, quickly retrieving the pouches of gold coins.

“What’s this all about,” the thin man screeched. “Leave those bags alone. They’re mine.”

Vulso grabbed him roughly. “Where’d you get that book?”

“What book?” he answered defiantly. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

Manassah and Alexander came out of the tavern with one of the marines. “That’s them,” said Alexander. “I have the book,” said Manassah.

“Where’d you get it?” repeated Vulso.

“I never saw these two before,” replied the thin man.

Vulso gave him an evil grin. The thin man saw it and imperceptibly pressed himself against the wall, away from the Centurion.

Vulso swiftly turned him around, drew his hands behind his back and handcuffed him. Then he punched him in the small of the back. The man screamed. Vulso grabbed a clump of his hair and dragged him down the street, while the marines cleared a path.

“Stop it,” yelled Vulso’s captive. “You’re hurting me. Let me go.”

Vulso passed a grocery, a carpet shop, another wine shop and then stopped with his prisoner in front of a blacksmith’s stall.

“By the order of the Emperor,” said Vulso to the blacksmith, “I need the use of your shop.”

The blacksmith took in the scene. A uniformed Roman Centurion, a squad of uniformed Roman marines, and a handcuffed man in a cloak. He quickly left the stall, calling a young boy and a slave out with him.

Vulso threw the thin man against the wall and closed the shutters, sealing off the shop from watchers on the street. The only light was provided by the eerie red glow of the blacksmith’s furnace. The prisoner looked terrified.

“Where’d you get that book?” asked Vulso again.

The thin man spat at him.

Vulso smashed him in the face, knocking out three teeth. Blood spurted from the man’s nose and mouth. Vulso then kicked him in the groin, and when he went down, booted him hard in the stomach. The Centurion let him writhe and groan and then picked him up and chopped him on the collar bone. He screamed in agony and went down again. Vulso picked him up and sat him
on a chair and without saying a word picked up a pair of metal tongs. The Centurion put on a blacksmith’s glove and held the tongs over the hot coals of the furnace, while his captive gasped in pain and watched in horror.

“No, don’t,” he said weakly. “I told you I don’t know anything.”

Vulso ignored him, took the tongs from the fire and approached him. The tongs were glowing red.

“No, please,” croaked the thin man. Vulso ripped open his cloak and tunic with his free hand and let the heat of the tongs radiate into the man’s chest and then into his face.