A Mixture of Madness, Book II of The Bow of Heaven (53 page)

BOOK: A Mixture of Madness, Book II of The Bow of Heaven
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Chapter
XXXI

54  BCE   -  
Spring, Antioch

Year of the consulship of

Lucius Domitius Ahenobarbus and Appius Claudius Pulcher

 

 


Is it my imagination, or are you spending every idle hour devising new and unique ways to torment me?” Crassus adjusted the laurel wreath upon its pedestal bust and flicked a bit of stadium dirt from one of its leaves.
Dominus
had had the governor’s suite emptied of any piece of furniture he considered extraneous, and now the cavernous rooms echoed.


I was under the impression I had you to thank for my triumph,
dominus
.”

“You went too far, Alexander.
And you go too far now.”


Forgive me,
dominus
. I was rash.”

“Have I not been kind? Have I not been generous? Does Livia not now share your bed in the Regia rather than a cot in one of the hovels at the fort town?”

“Yes,
dominus
.”

“If the crowd had suspected,
or had not been so well-pleased…”


You are a hero of Antioch. Yet, I apologize for creating the precedent.”

“I suppose I shall have to
keep you close at hand at least until those two charioteers retire. Who knows when you might need to portray Marcus Crassus again.”

“I shouldn’t worry. The odds are
high they will both die an early and horrific death.”
May Varro outlive us all.
“How was your meeting with Melyaket?”

“Pleasi
ng. Truthfully, your stunt in the hippodrome was well-timed. It was the talk of the city, and I used it to our advantage in my meeting with him. I confessed to him that it pained me to see you take such liberties. You were one of my most trusted servants, and it made me feel old and tired to see you take advantage of our friendship. I also told him something of the truth:  that you were fighting me every step of the way on this war. I told him how much Parthia stood to gain from a partnership with Rome, and how I feared you were speaking out against it. He asked how it could be that a slave could have such freedom. I told him of the Latin schools you had started, the medical clinics, the trade schools; that there were only a handful of men in Rome who had ever held such responsibility. That nobles, senators with influence and power, would seek your advice, and while I loved you, I was beginning to fear you.”

“You lied.”

“Somewhat, yes.”

“And he believed this?”

“After your chariot rides round the hippodrome, it’s just possible. Who knows? He is so forthcoming, I begin to doubt our suspicions.”

“Y
et you asked him to observe me?”

“He said he could think of at least three people who would be most displeased to learn of the arrangement:  King Orodes, Cassius Longinus, and you. Before he could decline outright, I offered him silver, more than he could carry. He refused the money.”

“I am not surprised.”


Is that so? And why is that?”

“I cannot tell
you. Something about his agreeing to take money for betraying his people seems…out of character.”

“Then I suppose,” said Crassus, sitting on his bed and letting a servant remove his shoes, “you will think it out of character when I tell you he accepted the assignment.”

“No, I do not, though I cannot for the life of me tell you why.”


Then I shall tell you,” he said, a hint of exultation in his voice. “I think he’d like to prove me wrong about my assessment of you. From what I could gather, he finds the idea of a creation like you fascinating.”

Ah. I had overlooked the obvious.
I waited for him to explain.

“Your talents versus your condition, obviously.”

I was in no mood for this game tonight. “Did you learn anything of your adversary?”


Our
adversary. No. Truth to tell, I forgot to ask. But that will come. The man is a puzzlement. He is brash and confident, like my youngest. But unlike Publius, he doesn’t strike me as reckless. There’s a sureness about him, a confidence, almost a glow.”
Dominus
made a sound in the back of his throat and kicked a shoe over the shoulder of his
ornator
. “I don’t know what I’m saying. It’s late; I truly am tired. Let’s write a short note to Tertulla, then retire.”

•••

A week later, Crassus sent me out into the city to meet with several camel merchants to discuss availability and terms for the purchase of two thousand of these improbable beasts. Have you ever allowed your nostrils to be stung by the bouquet of one these creatures? Allow me to advise you. Should you require transport over desert sands, and are left with the choice between your own two feet and a camel, walk. Die of thirst if you must, but walk.

This, of course, was
dominus
being clever. If Melyaket had indeed taken up the engagement to observe my activities, and should he truly be the eyes and ears of Orodes, passing on this information should set the Parthian king’s head spinning. If he did not burst out laughing. A far more plausible suggestion would have been to have me bargain for horses, but I was overruled. I prayed that Cassius would not get wind of my morning’s work, for if it were legitimate, as
quaestor
, a purchase of this size would have been his responsibility. The height from which he looked down upon me was great enough as it was.

When I returned, I discovered that Crassus had also just arrived from his morning at the
garrison. He told me he was tired and wished to lie down. I should rouse him in two hours. Hanno was with Betto and Malchus or Brenus and Taog and having the time of his life; Livia would not see me during the day—it interfered with her credibility. Never mind, I knew just how to use this time to my advantage. I went straight to the old city on the lower slopes of Mount Silpios and there, beyond a colonnaded street, found a public park and a shaded bench. From my satchel I removed some correspondence, several wax tablets and a stilus, then began to practice. I was almost as meticulous as she, so with time and repetition I was confident I could master her style. After half an hour or so, the city life around me faded until nothing remained but the craft of forming each letter.

“What beautiful handwriting,
” a voice said softly in my left ear.

“Pan’s hoof!” I
yelped as I leapt from my seat and spun around. Two of the tablets fell to the ground, ruined.

Behind the bench stood
a desert nomad, his headdress, robes, boots, everything was dyed in shades of black or deepest grey. His scarf, protection against the sandstorms which plagued the deep desert was drawn unnecessarily across his lower face. He spoke to me in lightly accented Latin. “May I join you?”

I
picked up the tablets and sat back down, angry at having my senses childishly jolted. “How do you know I am not being watched by Cassius?” All right, they weren’t ruined. A little scraping, a little fresh wax and they’d be fine. But still.

“Because I am the one who has been watching.” Melyaket moved to the front of the bench. W
hen he sat, his robes rose on an errant breeze like dark wings, then settled about him.


The
quaestor
would have us both arrested if he saw us talking together.”

“Do you remember the white robes I was wearing the day we met? Cassius’ men are chasing those, but they are
worn by Hami, not me.”

“Who is Hami?”

“My best friend. I hope that some day the two of you will meet.” He let the face cloth drop. “I’ve had an interesting request. Your general has asked me to spy on you.”

I blinked, trying to think which features my face should be displaying
—surprise, anger, disbelief. What I manufactured was something like a concerned grimace. “Did you accept?”

“Naturally! How could I resist?”

“Why would he do this?” I asked, giving an atrocious performance of someone trying to sound hurt. “Furthermore, why would you come straight to me with the information?!” That was said with genuine and quite believable frustration.

“He claims
he does not trust you. But of course we both know that can’t possibly be true.”

“How do you know it isn’t true?”
Was I arguing in favor of my disloyalty?

“You are a terrible actor, Alexandros, but not when it comes to your master; then, you have in every instance acted in his best interest.”

“You know nothing of me, or of Marcus Crassus.”

“You asked me why I came to you. The faster we end this game the sooner we may begin to help each other. Your master is trying to flush me out. He used your genuine misgivings about the invasion to entice me to watch you on his behalf. That and quite a lot of money. If I am I spy, through you he will feed me information to confound
his enemy. By the way, I hope the camels were not your idea.”

I could feel his eyes seeking mine. My fingers played with the leather bindings of my satchel. I jutted my lower lip and pressed down upon it from above, making any shape that would not be construed as a smile. Melyaket persisted. “Can you picture it? A legionary. On a camel.” I did picture it, and then I looked at him, and we both burst out laughing. 

It took a moment for us to collect ourselves. “I
told
him it should have been horses,” I said, which was a mistake, because it sent us back to that place where laughter lives in spite of reason.

The second attempt at composure was successful. Melyaket removed his headdress and ran his fingers through his hair. He wiped his eyes and steadied his breathing. We sat a moment doing no more than watching the elegant passage of commerce on the street beyond the colonnade. “How have you done it, Alexandros? So many years. What hatred you must have felt for him. I can’t even imagine. I don’t feel it there now. Frustration, yes, and sometimes anger, too. But no matter how many thousands he brings across the Euphrates, I know that Marcus Crassus is at heart a good man.”

“How can you possibly know that? You are too young to know anything.”

“You must learn to stop talking about the difference in our ages. Even your own philosophers know that it is not how long you look but what you see that discovers truth, and despite my youth, I have seen much. No, don’t bother to ask, just trust a stranger a little while longer.

“Let me tell what I know. I know when politics drew their real father away for days, sometimes months at a time, little Marcus and Publius turned to you and never found you lacking. I know that before you departed, Crassus hadn’t a clue what amounts resided in all his treasuries, because he trusted you to guard each balance down to the last
sestercius
. I know that the arrival of Lucius Curio stung like the crack of the
lorum
.”

“Who is telling you these things? Is
dominus
revealing such intimacies to you?”

“I am a spy, am I not? Let me share one last discovery. I know you are practicing a woman’s handwriting.”

“That was nothing,” I said offhandedly, glancing at the tablets.

“More than this, I know that when Chanina, one of the servant girls who cleans the Regia, takes the refuse to be burned, she sometimes finds crumpled letters; once in a while, after she has been through your quarters, she will discover two notes almost identical in every detail. A letter, copied, then the original and the copy, both discarded, neither sent. Most unusual.”

“I know her. A sweet child. Why would I not have her arrested the minute I return?

“Why not arrest me? Sympathy? Empathy? Caution, perhaps?”

“Melyaket, what game are you playing at?”

“I could ask the same of you,” he said, nodding toward the folded tablets in my lap.

“None that is of your concern.” I slid the wooden frames back inside my satchel. “Tell me how you come to know these things.”

“By looking in your eyes. I see a man who is far from home, a man more worried for the safety of those dear to him than for his own fate.”

“What sane man would not want to protect those he loves?”

Melyaket laughed. “Many men. Men like Orodes and many who follow Crassus. Men who are not like us.”

“Not Crassus himself?”

“Marcus Crassus is beset by demons.”

That this man, hardly more than a boy, should pluck such private truths about my master and me seemingly from the air suddenly made me angry. “I know who
I
am,” I said, “and what I am doing here; but you, I see no reason to trust a man who betrays first his own people and then the enemy who subverts him.”

“I would
never
betray my people,” he said, his sensibilities pricked. “You think those schemers in Seleucia and Ctesiphon are my people? Parthia is even less an empire than the one your Roman masters have stitched together with their swords and politics. The 200 families who live on a mountainside village out there at the desert’s edge are my people,” he said, pointing east. “They know nothing of Parthia. Yet this war will come even to them.

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