The Princess and the Pirates (27 page)

“That was my own thought,” I said, “but I don’t trust my knowledge of nautical matters. Titus, Cyprus produces in abundance one very heavy product: copper.”

“So why is Gabinius stockpiling copper in his house and smuggling it out?” he mused. “It’s a legitimate trade.”

“Good question. But we know already that there are a number of people involved in this matter. Spurius said, ‘Your business isn’t just with me and you know it.’ I am certain that Nobilior the banker is one of them. But who are the others?”

“I hope not Cleopatra,” Julia said. “I like her, and besides, anything touching Egypt is always dangerous.”

“Say that again,” Milo said.

“Say what?”

“What Spurius said. You were imitating his accent, weren’t you?”

“I suppose I was. I’ve been trying to place it since I heard him. It’s from somewhere near Rome, I’m sure.”

“Repeat everything you heard him say. I’m sure I know that accent.”

So I repeated everything the man had said, which wasn’t all that much. Milo stopped me a few times to get the pronunciation of certain words.

At the end of it, he grinned. “The man is from Ostia! I ought to know since I spent so many of my younger years there.”

I slapped the table. “Why didn’t I realize it! It’s the way you talked when I first met you, back before you became more Roman than Cincinnatus!” Things began to connect more firmly. “Silvanus was from Ostia, and so is Nobilior.”

“I wonder if Spurius meant what he said,” Hermes put in.

“About what?” I asked him.

“About attending the
Aphrodisia.
”

I looked at him. “Surely the gods would never be so good to me.”

T
HE TOWN WAS PACKED
. T
HE HARBOR WAS
jammed with ships of every size and description. The Roman grain fleet was still in harbor, loading supplies for the final leg of its long journey down the coast of Syria and Judea, past the Delta of the Nile, on to Alexandria. Although predominantly Greek, the crowds featured people seemingly from every nation of the world. There were Arabs in desert robes, Egyptians in linen kilts, Africans in colorful skins, tattooed Scythians, and people from no country I had ever heard of. I even saw some Gauls in checked trousers.

Flavia had arrived early to carry Julia off for their tour of the city. It may seem foolhardy to trust her to the wife of a man whose execution I might well demand, but to have begged off at the last moment might have roused too many suspicions. Anyway, violence aimed toward me would come from some other direction. Flavia’s awe of Julia’s family would keep her safe.

Leaving Milo to crack the whip over my men, I took Hermes and plunged into the festivities. Everywhere, people decked in flower wreaths sang Greek hymns and poured libations at the town’s many small shrines
to Aphrodite. Businesses that used her name or her image on their signs were decked out in flowers and other decorations and offered free drinks and food to passersby. Processions carried her images and sacred emblems through the streets, and people from widely separated cities and islands offered the sacrifices and performed the rituals of the goddess that prevailed in their own locales. A few of these were genuinely orgiastic, but most were fairly sedate. Of course, it was still daytime.

“Gabinius’s men,” Hermes said, as we came to the market where I had inquired about frankincense. I saw a cluster of tough-looking specimens, some of them armored, all of them draped with weapons.

“That is a very unbefitting sight on a holy and festive occasion,” I said. They were glaring toward me, but nobody was making a hostile move yet. “Come along, let’s try the public garden.” I had received an invitation to a reception being held there by the city council for all officials and distinguished visitors.

The garden was laid out in imitation of the Academy at Athens. Every Greek city has one of these groves. Like most of them, the one at Paphos was used primarily by the city’s schools, for Greeks do not believe in confining boys indoors except in bad weather. Its plantings and fine statuary had been donated by successive generations of rich residents, and there was a beautiful gymnasium and palaestra attached to it. On this day it had been commandeered by the city council for its annual celebration in honor of the town’s goddess.

On entering the grove I was handed a cup, and I poured a small libation before taking a healthy swig. As I handed the cup back, Nearchus came to greet me.

“Welcome, Senator. I am so glad your duties have not kept you away.”

“I wouldn’t have missed it.” I scanned the crowd. “Is Gabinius here?”

“We have not seen the general yet. Doubtless he will come in time. This reception will be open until late in the afternoon when the great procession goes up to the temple.”

“If you should see him, tell him that I would like to speak with him.” I wanted to confer with Gabinius, but only in a public place, preferably one where a lot of important men were gathered. Safer that way. Under no circumstances was I going to his house, nor would I meet with him in some deserted place.

“I shall see that it is done. In the meantime please enjoy the hospitality of the city and the company of our many distinguished guests.”

I saw the quaestor Valgus from the grain fleet, standing with a group of well-dressed Romans. I walked that way and introduced myself.

“How good to meet you, Senator,” Valgus said courteously. “All Rome speaks glowingly of your aedileship. I think you may know some of these gentlemen. This is Salinius Naso of Tarentum, who is in overall command of the fleet.” This man was not a ship’s captain, but rather the man charged by the Senate with responsibility for the fleet and its cargo.

“I believe I know the name. You have had this command before, have you not?”

“This is my fourth voyage to Alexandria, Senator.” He looked more than competent. Such a trust probably made him the most prestigious man in Tarentum.

“And this,” Valgus said, “is Marcus Furius Marcinus, once a Tribune of the People.” This was a large, pale-faced man who took my hand and nodded formally. “An honor,” he said, in a deep voice.

“And this,” Valgus said, “is Senator Manius Mallius, just arrived this morning, who came to Cyprus to be Governor Silvanus’s assistant and now, it seems, is to be governor himself.”

“If the Senate approves it,” Mallius said. He was a young man with the look of the inveterate Forum politician. I had the look myself, with a few more years on it.

“You were quaestor two years ago, weren’t you?” I asked.

“I was.”

“Nearchus and the council will be overjoyed that you are here,” I assured him. “The situation has been complicated, but with a clear commission from the Senate you should have little trouble.”

“Such is my hope. I was not expecting this. May I call on you for a briefing on the situation here?”

“Please do so. As a matter of fact—” I excused us from the little group of Romans and took him aside. “What is the Forum gossip about Gabinius?”

“Gabinius? I’d heard he was here helping Silvanus. What about him?”

“Is there agitation to get his exile rescinded?”

“Well, naturally. He has many friends, you know. He was convicted in Cato’s court on the charge of extortion. But Cato opposes Caesar, and
Gabinius is Caesar’s supporter. Pompey and Caesar are allied at the moment, so it is only a matter of time before he’s recalled. The tribunes had it up before the Plebeian Assembly when I left Rome, and you know who has the power in that assembly these days. His recall letter may be on the next ship. Why do you ask?”

I gave him a judiciously edited version of the way Gabinius was trying to take control of Cyprus, minimizing my own questionable acts. I knew that Mallius was an experienced man and would know well poisoning when he heard it, especially since my family’s shift toward the anti-Caesarian faction, but he would be on his guard against Gabinius anyway.

“How go your operations against these pirates I was told about?” he asked.

“I expect to smash them utterly within a few days,” I told him, smiling. He expected no other answer of course. “In fact I happen to know that several persons here in Paphos are in league with them, and I may need you to lend me your authority in arresting them and bringing them to trial.”

“That seems reasonable, but I just got here and I need to learn exactly what resources I have. The city guard will be under my command, I suppose. Arresting some Greek conspirators, trying and executing them right at the outset of my administration—yes, that might just set a good tone for my government.”

“Actually, Governor, some of the people I need to arrest are Roman citizens.”

He didn’t exactly turn pale, but his attitude changed noticeably. “Citizens? You mean to arrest Roman citizens in a newly annexed territory, then take them back to Rome for trial? A process that can consume years? This is not reasonable, Commodore!”

“I am afraid it will be necessary if I am to suppress piracy in these waters, Governor,” I insisted.

“Nonsense! Find them, destroy their ships, find their base, and bring the surviving wretches here to me, and I will be most happy to crucify them for you. If there are Romans here in league with them, go back to Rome and indict them. I won’t begin my administration by disgracing citizens before foreigners!” Well, I hadn’t expected it would be easy.

I circulated for a while, limiting my wine intake and checking from time to time to assure that my weapons were handy. As I left the garden to see what was happening elsewhere in town, a familiar voice hailed me.

“Senator! Decius Caecilius!” It was Alpheus, already tipsy, a laurel wreath slightly askew on his head. He was with a little group of similarly festive companions. “Come join us!” I meandered over to the joyous band.

“I thought you would be taking part in the ceremonies,” I told him.

“There is nothing left for me to do. I have taught and rehearsed the sacred chorus, but there is no role for me in the rest of the ritual, so now I am just enjoying the festivities like everybody else. Have a drink with us. There is a high-class tavern near the Temple of Hephaestus that is giving away Judaean wine flavored with rose petals, this day only.”

“What is it called?”

“The Hermaphroditus. The statue in front is worth the trip by itself.” This intrigued me. I had never seen a really convincing depiction of the double-sexed offspring of Aphrodite and Hermes, and was curious to see how this statue interpreted the difficult subject.

“Hermes, run, find Julia, and tell her to join us there.”

“I’d rather not leave you by yourself.”

“Don’t be an idiot. I’m among friends, and nobody is going to cause trouble at this festival. Anyone who tries to spoil the fun will be torn to pieces by the crowd as a sacrifice to the goddess.”

“I still don’t like it. How will I find her in this mob?”

“Easily. They’ll be at one of the town’s more famous locations, and Flavia will have the biggest, showiest litter in sight. It will stick up well above the crowd. Off with you now.”

He left us and Alpheus introduced me to his companions, who had Greek names that all sounded the same: Amyntas and Amoebeus and Admetus or something of the sort. I knew I would not remember the names the next day so I made no effort to sort them out. Probably tavern acquaintances, I imagined: sworn brothers today, forgotten tomorrow.”

“Will you be staying much longer on Cyprus, Alpheus?” I asked, as we set off for our destination.

“As soon as the ceremony ends tomorrow, I’m off for the next island.”

“That is unfortunate. I was looking forward to—” I stopped when I saw five well-armed thugs pushing their way through the crowd toward
us, their beady eyes fixed on me. Immediately, I regretted sending Hermes away.

“Gabinius’s men. Alphaeus, do you know how we can lose them?”

“Are you feuding with Gabinius? And you Romans are always chiding us Greeks for infighting. My friends here know the town well. We ought to be able to lose a pack of iron-bound Romans easily. Come on.”

So we ducked into a narrow alley, which featured a turn into an even narrower alley where there was a ladder propped against a wall. We scrambled up to a flat rooftop and pulled the ladder up after us, then across two or three roofs and down a set of stairs into a courtyard where about a hundred naked people were worshipping the goddess in her most basic ritual, after an astonishing fashion that Alpheus assured me was a most pious observance in Phrygia. They invited us to join them, but I was forced to decline.

“Why couldn’t I have visited this place ten years ago?” I complained. “Or even five? You and your friends can stay if you like, Alpheus. I can probably find my way to the Hermaphroditus.”

“Nonsense. We’re just resting up. The real celebration starts after nightfall, and you need to keep up your stamina if you hope to last until sunrise.”

So we went out onto a side street, and I realized that I had no idea where we were.

“This way,” Alpheus said. We went down a long stairway between two rows of houses. “Now through here.” We entered a tunnel that bored into one of the buildings, into a large, dim room.

“Where are we?” I asked. “I think you took the wrong—” I was stopped short by the dagger that appeared beneath my chin. A hand plucked my own dagger from beneath my belt.

“He’s got a
caestus
under his tunic,” Alpheus said.

No, I definitely shouldn’t have sent Hermes away. “Alpheus! I was suspicious of everybody else, but I thought you, at least, were my friend.”

“You mean I wasn’t important enough to be involved in any of the great matters of international concern, don’t you? Well, that was the idea. But please don’t take this personally. I truly have enjoyed your company, and I regret that your stubborn persistence has led you to this dismal fate.”

“Well, what now? I take it you plan to kill me.” I didn’t plan to go without a fight, not that there was much I could do in my predicament, but I suspected he had something else in mind for me. People who intend to cut your throat usually do it before you know they have a knife.