The Seven Hills

CHAPTER TWO

"Scipio is a traitor!" shouted a red-faced senator. "He directed the defense of Alexandria when a Roman force was a part of the army besieging the city! He must be recalled and tried for treason!"

Another senator rushed over and shook a fist in the man's face. "That besieging army was led by the king of Carthage! Is a Roman a traitor for fighting Carthage? That alliance was never anything but a sham, anyway! It was done only to get intelligence of Hamilcar s army and tactics."

"Scipio was never given permission to open relations with Egypt, much less to frolic with the Egyptian queen and take charge of her army!" yelled a senator whose blond hair proclaimed his northern ancestry. "He wants to be a king in his own right!"

The uproar threatened to break into open violence until the presiding consul ordered the lictors to separate all the belligerents and restore order. When matters had settled a bit, he stood. The consul was a soldierly, fierce-faced man named Quintus Cornelius Scipio and the person being charged with treason was his son.

"Conscript fathers," he began, "this bickering is unseemly and advances our cause not at all. I remind you that my son was given a far-ranging commission with wide powers of discretion. If his methods have been unorthodox, does any man here deny that the reports he has sent to us have been invaluable? Has he not given us the city of Carthage as if we had built it ourselves?" He gestured toward the detailed model of the city that occupied a corner of the curia, constructed according to the reports and drawings of the expedition young Scipio had led. "Furthermore," here he glared around him at the assembled senators, "does any man here dare say that a Scipio has ever betrayed Rome? if so, I stand ready to lay down my imperium and meet that man, or those men, on the Field of Mars, on horseback or afoot, with sword, spear and dagger."

Amid the uneasy silence an older man stood. He was Publius Gabinius, the princeps senatus, empowered to speak first on all matters. "Gentlemen," he said calmly, "are we primitive tribesmen, to resort to arms over matters of personal honor? The gods forbid it! We are the Senate of Rome and we have raised ourselves to mastery over other nations because we prize reasoned debate, intelligent planning, compromise and discipline above brute ferocity. Rome is now embarked upon a campaign of unprecedented magnitude. Now is not the time for such unseemliness. Moderate your tone or I may be forced to expel some of you." He gazed around him, waiting for the proper moment. "And let me remind you that the Princess Selene is not queen of Egypt but merely the sister of the boy-king Ptolemy. Egypt is a nation with which Rome has no cause for hostility. In fact, as the implacable enemy of Carthage, we should seek alliance with that country."

Another senator stood. "Nonetheless, Honored Princeps, the fact remains that four of our legions are now lost somewhere in Egypt, and we can ill afford such a loss at this time."

"They are not lost, just missing," Gabinius said, hiding his own misgivings. "That force is led by the son of our other consul. Let us hear his thoughts on this matter."

"I yield the floor to my colleague," the Consul Scipio said, resuming his seat on his curule chair.

The Consul Titus Norbanus, elder of that name, stood. "That my son is in command of the missing expedition is of no consequence. A Roman soldier serves his country, without regard to parentage or family affiliation, and the highest officer is no more sacred than the commonest legionary."

There were many shouts of approval for this patriotic sentiment, and the Princeps Gabinius smiled and nodded cynically, thinking: He neatly sidesteps the fact that his boy got the command without ever having held a higher office, as the constitution requires.

"And while I cannot approve of young Scipio's actions in Alexandria," Norbanus went on, "the fact remains that those legions were stranded in Egypt when we, the Senate, meeting in this very chamber, voted to invade Sicily, thus declaring war upon Carthage."

As if in answer to a plea for an omen, the sound of clattering hoofbeats from without silenced even the low murmur in the room. A horse galloping across the Forum could mean only one thing: an army messenger with important dispatches.

"Clear the doorway, there!" called the princeps. Immediately, lictors made a pathway from the door to the consuls' podium. The hoofbeats ceased, and moments later a man in military belt, tunic and boots, travel-stained and exhausted, strode in. Looking neither right nor left, he went to the consuls' podium and held out a bronze tube.

"Dispatches for the honored Senate from the Proconsul Norbanus."

The presiding consul waved it away. "My colleague should read this first."

Norbanus took the message tube, forcing his hands to be steady. He examined the seal, then broke it and twisted the cap off the tube. He withdrew some sheets of Egyptian papyrus, unrolled them and began to read.

"From the Proconsul Titus Norbanus to the Senate of Rome, greeting." There were grumbles from those who thought it unfit for young Norbanus to style himself thus without having held the office of consul or even praetor first, but the father silenced them with a glare. He resumed reading.

"Our legions were in the process of subduing the cities along the Nile when word arrived from Alexandria that Hamilcar had withdrawn from Egypt and that the glorious reconquest of Italy and Sicily had begun. At a council of commanders our options were examined and discussed. We are eager to join the offensive, but a return through Carthaginian territory is unfeasible. The attitude of Egypt is uncertain, since we took part in Hamilcar's invasion. The Egyptian army is laughable and no threat to four Roman legions, but the Senate has not indicated a desire for war with Egypt, so we shall be careful not to provoke one.

"Marcus Scipio has tried to order us to Alexandria, but his commission from the Senate was merely to carry out a reconnaissance of Italy and Carthage, so none of us feel constrained to obey him, lacking orders from the Senate. There are those among us who doubt his loyalty.

"South of us lies a primitive wilderness, desert on both sides. Our only course is to march north to the Delta, then eastward, into territory unseen by Romans for more than a century. By the time the Senate receives this missive, we should be in a place called Sinai, said to be desert, but passable since the days of the pharaohs. The land beyond seems to be under some dispute. There is a sometimes-independent state ruled by a king of the Jews, and north of that lies Seleucid Syria, although both of these states are said to be under great pressure from the expanding Parthian Empire. Whatever our fate, we shall continue our reconnaissance and report faithfully to the Senate, in order that Rome's knowledge of the East may be expanded.

"Our plan is to march up the coast until we come to a port where sufficient ships are available to embark for Italy, Sicily or wherever the noble Senate shall order us. Should no such fleet present itself, then we shall march through Cilicia, Pamphilia, Lycia, Asia, Greece, Macedonia and Dalmatia until we reach Italy. We shall show the world that nothing is beyond the capabilities of the legions of Rome.

"I shall send further dispatches at every opportunity. Long live the noble Senate. Long live Rome." Norbanus the elder rolled the papyri and replaced them in the tube, his face glowing with triumph.

A senator leapt to his feat. "He proposes a feat worthy of Xenophon!" Shouts and cheers erupted.

Gabinius stood and gestured for quiet. "Let's cheer the feat when it is accomplished, shall we? Commander Norbanus proposes an extreme course, but anyone can see that his situation calls for such measures. I wish him well, as do we all. Now, we have been concentrating on Sicily, Carthage and the South to the neglect of the great world of the East. I propose we appoint a committee to study the situation there. We have assumed that the Seleucids are still supreme there, as they were when we went into exile. What sort of people are these Parthians who seem to be causing such trouble there? Will we be facing them once we have settled with Carthage?.We must know."

With some routine government work under proposal, the excitement subsided and the Senate got serious. While names for the study board were submitted, everyone talked of the latest news. First war in Sicily, now this! After generations of grinding warfare against the savages of the North, Rome was engaged with the old world once more.

Satisfied that the danger of open violence was past, the princeps joined the two consuls for some serious talk.

"Your son seems to be acquitting himself well," Gabinius said to Norbanus.

"I notice that you gave him the title 'commander,' not 'proconsul,'" Norbanus said.

"I believe it will set a bad example if we let men who have never served in the offices that rightfully confer imperium to hold so lofty a title officially. This situation is unprecedented in our experience and of course certain expedients were called for. Let's not make a practice of it."

"Your boy is not being cheated of anything," the Consul Scipio said. "What any of us would have given for such an opportunity at so young an age, eh? The gods love young Norbanus; that much is clear. If he pulls this off, he'll return to Rome covered with so much glory that the highest offices will fall into his hands like ripe olives. But the princeps is right. Let's not let our young officers think they can bypass the cursus honorum through military glory. Men with successful wars behind them are nothing but a danger to the Republic if they don't know how to govern."

Norbanus waved a hand impatiently. "Let it pass for the moment. What concerns us now is: What's to be done? We can't leave a Roman army out wandering about with no guidance from the Senate, no matter who is in charge."

"Exactly," said his colleague. "We need a means of communication, as we have with our army in Sicily. Granted, the distances between your son's force and us are far greater than with the Sicilian expedition, but it should not be insurmountable. We need fast ships and men to sail them and a knowledge of the ports along the coast between Egypt and Greece."

"We have maps," Gabinius said, "but they are old ones. The ports will be there, but who knows who owns them now? I will take personal charge of the study board. In the meantime, we must all be thinking about how to use our reserve force. Six new legions are due from Noricum any day. Will we send them west, south or east?"

"Too soon to speculate," Norbanus said. "First they must get used to the climate. They can move into the camps down south that the Sicilian expedition left behind. From there they can move in any direction the Senate orders with minimum waste of time."

"Excellent," said the princeps. "An Italian summer is very different from one in Noricum, and it will prepare them for Africa."

The others nodded. An African campaign would be the next step, once Sicily was secured. Carthage had to be destroyed. The gods had ordained that grim task.

With the major questions settled, the Senate meeting broke up and they left the curia, in strict order of precedence: first, the consuls preceded by their lictors, then the princeps senatus, then the senior magistrates, the lower office holders, finally the mass of senators holding no particular office that year.

Gabinius stepped onto the porch of the Curia, feeling once again the exhilaration of serving Rome in the very building erected by the King Tullus Hostilius, from which every great consul and all the senators of old had made laws and sent forth the legions. Brutus and Camillus, and Appius Claudius, the builder of roads and aqueducts, had presided in-this sacred building. Now he, Publius Gabinius, carried on their tradition. As he looked over the city with great satisfaction, he noticed two unusual men standing at the bottom of the steps, gazing up at him. They had the unmistakable aspect of Greeks. One of them was a handsome man of excellent bearing and immaculate dress, the other a scruffy, unkempt fellow dressed no better than a slave but with an arrogant stance and eyes that blazed with intelligence. As Gabinius descended the steps, these two climbed toward him, as if they wished to speak.

Zeno and Izates listened to the noise from within the curia rise and fall. They heard individual speakers shout or project their voices in the manner approved by the teachers of rhetoric, and spoken thus they could understand that the Latin tongue had great force and dignity. Then they jumped aside as a messenger thundered up on horseback, leapt from his mount and ran into the building. Then there were a few minutes of silence followed by cheering.

"Good news, apparently," Izates said.

"Are Senate meetings usually this uproarious?" Zeno asked Gorgas.

"I've heard that they can get noisy. The Senate's divided into a lot of cliques, and they're all at each other's throat over high office and military command. They're only united against the rest of the world."

They waited a while longer, then Izates said: "I think there is nothing more to be learned here. Let's go get something to eat."

They were about to do just that when men began to emerge from the curia. First came a line of men who each carried a bundle of rods tied around an axe. These Gorgas identified as lictors: attendants to the higher magistrates. A man who wore a toga bordered with a broad purple stripe followed the lictors. Then came another line of lictors and another such magistrate. A third man emerged, unaccompanied by lictors, then more lictors preceding purple-striped magistrates and finally a crowd of senators, some of them wearing purple-bordered togas, most dressed in plain garments.

These men were different from those they had seen heretofore. Their faces were stern to the point of ferocity and their bearing was nothing short of regal. They trod like the masters of the earth. The third man to emerge after the two that Gorgas identified as consuls stood a little aside as if he were admiring the view. Then he gazed down at the two Greeks.

"I want to talk to that one," Zeno said. He began to ascend the steps.

"Why that one?" Izates asked, following him.

"He looks more intelligent than the rest. Gorgas, you wait here." They climbed to the top and stood before the white-haired man, whose austere face expressed polite interest.

"Rejoice, sir," Zeno said, hoping the man understood Greek. "We are travelers from Greece. I am Zeno of Athensand this is my friend Izates of Alexandria. We would ask the indulgence of the Roman Senate, of which august body I perceive you to be a member of high standing."

The man inclined his head slightly. "Rejoice, Greek. I am Publius Gabinius and I am a senator. How may I be of service to a distinguished visitor? I perceive that you are both men of good birth. Are you officials of Athens?" His Greek was nearly flawless, but old-fashioned in the manner they had heard their native tongue spoken by other Romans.

"Alas, we are not officials, although we bear letters of introduction from the Athenian Council. We are philosophers. Most particularly, I am a historian, and when I heard that the Romans had returned to Italy, I understood that history is now taking a momentous new turn. It is my desire to be the historian of the Roman resurgence, and I would very much like to have the approval of the Senate in carrying out my researches."

A very slight smile softened Gabinius's granite features. He liked this young man. Though handsome, he seemed to have none of the effeminacy that Romans associated with Greeks, and his words, while flattering, bore no taint of obsequiousness.

"A historian? Like Herodotus?"

Zeno sighed. It seemed he was never to escape that comparison. "I can claim nothing so grand, although my friend here thinks I might make a second-rate Thucydides."

Gabinius looked Izates over. "We haven't had much opportunity to study Greek philosophy up north, but some of us have read a bit. We tend to favor the Stoics. Are you of that school?"

"Izates is a Cynic," Zeno told him.

"Aren't the Cynics the ones who growl and snap like dogs?"

"Some people's toes need to be bitten," Izates said.

Again they heard that swords-on-shields laugh. "So they do! Come, my friends. Join me at my house for some dinner. I don't know how I may be of service to you, but what little I can do is yours to command."

This, Zeno thought, was amazing luck. If it was luck. They fell in beside the Roman as he went down the steps and turned up a narrow street. His stride was that of a much younger man, and something occurred to Zeno.

"I notice that most Roman men walk in exactly the same way, with paces of the same length."

"It's the legionary pace," Gabinius told him, "one thousand paces to the mile. It's drilled into us from boyhood. Short men have to hurry and tall men amble, but every man walks at the same pace." He turned up a yet narrower street. "So you are a historian. I take it that this entails much travel?"

"I've traveled more widely than most," Zeno assured him. "And my new friend Izates is from Alexandria.

"I take it that you both have visited the lands to the eastern end of the sea? Our knowledge of those parts is very out of date and wasn't vast when it was current. Perhaps you could tell me something about that part of the world?"

"Gladly," Zeno said, sensing that this was why the Roman had accepted them so readily. He wanted to know about the East. Perhaps the whole Senate was eager to learn about those lands. It was hardly a matter for wonder. This hardheaded people would understand that knowledge was power, and if the Romans understood nothing else, they understood power.

As they walked, ordinary people greeted Gabinius as a personal friend and he returned their greetings, pausing to exchange words with many of them. Common citizens, it seemed, had great respect for their rulers but held them in little awe. This Zeno approved. It reminded him of the Athenian democracy in the days of Pericles. He remarked upon this to Gabinius.

"Oh, yes. The highest offices are open to all citizens save freedmen recently manumitted, and even they may hold the lower, municipal posts. Among my colleagues in the Senate are men whose ancestry stretches back to Romulus, and others whose grandfathers were barbarian warriors who fought us along the Rhine and the Danube two generations ago."

"We lack your flexible concept of citizenship," Zeno said, "but something of the sort has happened with the spread of Greek civilization. My friend here," he nudged Izates with an elbow, "could be mistaken for a native Hellene, but he was born a Jew."

Gabinius looked at Izates with new interest. "I've heard of your nation. Is it true that you have only one god? That seems unnatural."

"It seems unnatural to everyone but us. But even Plato and other philosophers have speculated that there is only a single godhead, and that men have divided that deity into many aspects in order to explain the phenomena of nature and the universe: Zeus for thunder and lightning, Poseidon for the sea, Aphrodite for the attraction between men and women, Dionysus for the terrible forces of nature, Apollo for the enlightened thoughts of men and so forth."

"This is fascinating. I can see we shall have many enthralling discussions. Tell me, do your people still have their own kingdom, between Egypt and Seleucid Syria?"

The Romans are truly concerned about the power structure of the East, Zeno thought. Something must be happening there.

"Yes, the Hasmonean family clings to the kingdom of Judea. Egypt cares nothing for that part of the world anymore, and the Seleucids are too hard-pressed by the Parthiaris to give them much trouble."

"So your kingdom is strong and secure?"

"No longer my kingdom or my people," Izates said. "I'm more of an Alexandrian Greek, as Zeno says. But a man can't separate himself from his ancestry. The kingdom is beset by civil war, but that's an old story. When we are not united against an outside enemy, we fall to fighting among ourselves."

"Just like Greeks," Zeno said.

"Here we are. This is my house, which you are to regard as your own."

They stood before a blank wall that stretched in both directions for a considerable distance. They walked through the door into a spacious entrance hall dominated by a tall wooden chest. Before the chest was a bronze statue of a god, before which smoldered a small brazier. Gabinius took a pinch of incense from a box next to the brazier and dropped it onto the coals. His guests did the same.

"Is this your household god?" Zeno asked.

"This is Quirinus. He is our founder, Romulus, in deified form. This cabinet holds the wax death masks of my ancestors. My great-grandfather took them north on the exile and I have returned them home."

"Is this the home of your ancestors?" Zeno asked, looking around. Like most things in Rome, it looked and smelled new.

"There was little left but the foundations when we returned, but I have restored it exactly as it was. Most of us were able to locate our old homes. Our ancestors kept careful records of everything. Most especially of our lands and houses. This one has been in my family since Rome had kings."

They passed into a courtyard surrounding a pool in which a modest fountain played. The sides and bottom of the pool were lined with blue tiles lacking any design or ornament. The surrounding colonnade shaded the entrances to a number of rooms, but it held no sculptures. Instead, climbing plants were placed at intervals in large, earthenware pots. The vines had only begun to ascend the columns.

"We could use the triclinium," Gabinius said, "but the weather is so fine I suggest we eat out here. Does that suit you?"

"Admirably," Zeno assured him. "I can think of no lovelier setting."

"It is in excellent taste," Izates said grudgingly.

Gabinius smiled. "You mean it lacks any ornament? I know that you Greeks are fond of restraint. Actually, this place is just new, or rather newly restored. We could cart away little with us on the exile, and Hannibal's men took everything else. We Romans are rather fond of display and gaudy decoration. Come back in a few years and see whether you approve then."

Slaves brought out a table and chairs. "We recline only at banquets," Gabinius explained. "For ordinary meals we prefer to sit."

"Better for the digestion anyway," Izates said. "People shouldn't lie around like beached fish at a meal. Food was not meant to pass through the body horizontally."

They took chairs, and slaves brought ewers and basins to wash their hands. Cups were filled, and each splashed a bit onto the courtyard before drinking. The first course was hard-boiled eggs, and Gabinius explained that nearly every Roman meal began with eggs. They spoke of inconsequential matters through the simple dinner. The eggs were followed by grilled fish, then stewed lamb and, finally, fresh apples and pears. Throughput, platters of bread and cheese and bowls of oil and of a pungent fish sauce stood filled for the diner's use. When the plates were cleared away and the wine cups refilled, serious talk began.

"Why do you find Rome a fit subject for study?" Gabinius asked.

"Because the state seemed poised to take an important place on the world's stage when Hannibal eliminated it so abruptly. From obscure origins, Rome had thrust forth into importance in an incredibly short time. Its inhabitants and constitution showed every sign of destiny. Then all was cut short by Carthage. That much would rate a historical footnote.

"But over the years we received cryptic word of a new Rome in the North, busily subduing the barbarians. This was more interesting yet. Nations that have been crushed usually disappear. Now you have returned, seemingly stronger and more warlike than ever. This is most remarkable of all, an unprecedented thing. I want to know how it happened and, more importantly, I want to chronicle what happens next."

Gabinius nodded. "A laudable project. In my library are several histories of Rome, both pre-and post-exile. Please feel free to use them in your researches."

"You are more than generous," Zeno said.

"I wish to enlighten you about Rome. At the same time, I and other Romans have much to learn about this world we have reentered. Perhaps you can help me there."

"Gladly."

Zeno had no compunctions about supplying the Roman with information that might well be put to military use. Greece was a tributary of Macedonia and he regarded the Macedonians as no better than barbarians. Rome was the implacable enemy of Carthage, and Carthage had resisted the spread of Greek interests in the western Mediterranean. The Romans were brutal, but Carthage had become a byword for cruelty.

Gabinius told them of the great northward march; when the Romans took their household gods and sacred objects, their arms and whatever tools they could carry and sought a new home beyond the Alps. He told them of the hungry early years, of the resistance by native peoples, and of the Romans' ultimate victory. He told of Roman expansion year by year, and of how certain native nobles saw in the newcomers an opportunity for themselves.

"Since that time," Gabinius said, "we have spoken of the old families and the new families. Old families like my own date from the exile. New families are of northern origin."

"And they are full citizens?" Zeno asked, intrigued as always by this unique concept of citizenship.

"Certainly. Our Consul Norbanus, whom you saw leaving the Curia today, belongs to the most prestigious of the new families. They have been consulars for more than fifty years. His father and grandfather were consuls and a greatgrandfather was praetor shortly after the exile. He was a chieftain who understood that supporting Rome would make him far more than lord over a few hundred obstreperous savages."

It sounded too cozy and friendly for Zeno. No Greek could truly believe in political harmony on any profound level, and he remembered the shouting from inside the Curia. He sensed that there must be tension, jealousy and resentment between these new and old families.

In response to the Roman's questions, Zeno spoke of the situation in Greece, of the great coastal cities of Antioch, Sidon and Tyre, of the islands Cyprus and Rhodes. Gabinius asked Izates about Judea and its capital, Jerusalem. Zeno noticed that his friend was not asked about his native city, Alexandria, even though the capital of Egypt was perhaps the most important city on the sea.

He remembered reports he had heard that a Roman delegation had already visited that city. They've been sending reports to the Senate, he thought. This Roman already knows all he needs to know about Alexandria. The scope of Roman preparations was something far beyond his experience. They have just retaken Italy and already they are laying plans for world conquest. They will know exactly what they are doing and whom they will face when they start. Even Alexander made no such plans. He just bulled his way through with luck, charisma and a confidence in his enemy's weakness.

"Perhaps you can answer something for me," Zeno said hesitantly.

"You have but to ask," Gabinius told him.

"The world knows that you Romans are in the process of taking Sicily."

"We are taking it back," Gabinius corrected. "It was ours after the first war with Carthage, when we fought Hannibal's father there."

"To be sure. Yet, travelers hear many things and there is a story on the ships and in the taverns all around the sea that a Roman force, a rather large one, accompanied the Shofet Hamilcar's expedition to Egypt. Yet now you are at war with Carthage. What has happened to that Roman army, last heard.of some distance down the Nile from Alexandria?"

Gabinius leaned back in his chair and seemed to considerthis for a while. He gestured with his cup and a slave refilled it, then the others.

"Ah. This very question is getting to be something of a sore point in the Senate lately. You see, our two consuls for the year are Titus Norbanus and Quintus Scipio; one old family, one new. Each has a son. If you would understand the new Rome that has arisen here, then I must tell you about these two remarkable young men."

And so he began to speak to them of the younger Marcus Scipio, and of the younger Titus Norbanus.