John Roberts - The Princess and the Pirates

“Including,” I asked, “those settlements founded by Pompey to separate the erstwhile pirates from the sea?”

“That I could not say,” Nobilior asserted. “It would have been in violation of the surrender terms after all. These men were not to take up arms again. Still, few laws lack flexibility where power and ambition are concerned.”

“All too true. Well, then, it may be that this man Spurius is one of those paid-off veterans now set up in business for himself.”

“Quite likely.” Nobilior nodded. “Would you care for some of this excellent Lesbian?”

I left his house no more than pleasantly tipsy. Flavia saw me to the door personally.

“You must visit us again soon, Senator,” she said.

“I would not forego the pleasure,” I assured her. Her parting kiss was far more ardent than commonly sanctioned by the rules of etiquette, but at least she kept her clothes on.

As I walked away I reminded myself to steer a wide course around that woman. Julia would, after all, be here soon, Flavia was a deterrent to clear thinking, but I managed to draw my thoughts upward from my nether regions sufficiently to ponder what I had just heard.

Nobilior implied that these pirates were Gabinius’s men. But, if so, where did that leave me? Gabinius had no imperium, was no more than an exile like many others, awaiting his chance to go back to Rome and resume his Senate seat. If some of his veterans turned outlaw, that did not mean he had put them up to it, although the implication could not have been clearer.

When I reached my quarters at the governor’s mansion I sent Hermes to fetch Ariston.

“How do the accommodations here suit you?” I asked him when he arrived.

“Fine so far. The serving girls here have taken a shine to me. When you consider the quality of the men they usually have to put up with, that’s not too surprising. The food and wine and the room are all better than I can afford at most times.” He stretched his powerful arms. “It would get boring as a steady diet, but for now I like it just fine.”

“Good. Ariston, when you were in Spurius’s little fleet, did many of the men speak of serving with Gabinius on his Egyptian expedition?”

He nodded. “Several of them did, as I recall. They said his recruiters had come to the villages where they were settled and offered them the chance to do something more congenial than trudge along behind an ox, and they’d jumped at it.”

“Did these recruiters say why their oath not to take up arms again had been suspended?”

He shrugged. “I wasn’t there. But Rome is always raising auxilia from defeated people, right? And that oath specified that we never take up arms against Rome. If a Roman general wanted them to fight an enemy of Rome, what could be wrong with that? Anyway, Pompey was mainly concerned that we keep away from the sea.”

“Quite so. But did any of these men perhaps hint that he still served Gabinius in some fashion?”

Ariston’s gaze sharpened. “You mean you think he may be behind this?”

“It is one of many possibilities I am exploring.”

“Nobody said so. Anyway, if a man that highly placed wanted to do such a thing, he would treat with only one person, and that would be Spurius. Even then, he might not see the man personally. He’d probably use an emissary.”

“Yes, I know how it’s done.” I remembered innumerable dealings between prominent candidates and officeholders in Rome and the street-gang leaders whose support they needed. Some freedman always acted as go-between. “Go on back to your quarters. Mention to nobody what we’ve spoken about.”

“Come, Hermes,” I said, when he was gone, “let’s call upon Princess Cleopatra.”

We found her in a beautiful little nook of the formal garden, well illuminated by torches and braziers, accompanied by her scholars and listening to Alpheus, who stood before them declaiming a lengthy poem concerning the birth of Venus, which, according to the myth, had occurred not far from the spot we occupied. Upon coming ashore in her scallop shell, she founded her first temple right there in Paphos, where the ancient, rather modest structure remained the center of her cult.

Of course, the Greeks call her Aphrodite, “the foam-born.” Among the Greeks she is a gentle goddess, lacking the more alarming qualities of the Roman Venus. This does not keep us from identifying the two goddesses though. Among other advantages, it allows us to steal Greek statues of Aphrodite and set them up in our Temples of Venus without impropriety.

I am told that, in the old days before we came under Greek influence, our gods had no form, and we didn’t even know what they looked like. It is difficult now to think of Jupiter without picturing Zeus, or Mars lacking the image of Ares, but once this was so.

I waited in the shadows of the fruit trees until Alpheus had finished his song, and while I waited I noticed the man seated next to Cleopatra. He looked decidedly familiar-a pudgy, round-faced man with a bald head, wearing a great many Egyptian rings on his fat fingers. The Egyptian jewelry jogged my memory. It was Photinus, First Eunuch to the court of King Ptolemy. When I had seen him years before in Alexandria, he had worn the Egyptian dress, complete with wig and cosmetics, favored by that court’s functionaries. Despite that he was a Greek like the rest of them, and here he was dressing the part.

“Good evening, Princess,” I said, as the applause died down and Alpheus took his bows.

“Ah, Senator, there you are,” she said, smiling. “We tried to find you earlier.”

“I have been enjoying the hospitality of Sergius Nobilior,” I told her. “You remember Photinus, I am sure,” said Cleopatra. “It is so good to see you again, Senator Metellus,” he said heartily. Our previous relations had been of a decidedly hostile nature, but the present moment is all that counts to courtiers and diplomats.

“An unexpected pleasure,” I assured him. “What brings you to Cyprus?”

“Some trivial matters concerning the transfer of authority to Rome. A great many Egyptian noblemen have extensive landholdings on Cyprus, and their anxieties must be set at rest.”

“We wouldn’t want them worrying,” I said. “I’m sure all will work out to your satisfaction. We Romans are punctilious about property rights, especially in regard to land and slaves.”

“You mean,” Cleopatra said, “that having stolen the whole island, you will respect all the deeds and titles?”

“Exactly,” I affirmed. “It’s the way the world works, if you hadn’t noticed, Princess. After all, you Ptolemys stole the island from someone else, didn’t you? And I’ll wager you simply deposed the previous possessors, too-killed them or sent them packing without a drachma. Our way is better. Everyone agrees that our taxes are far lighter than the ones their old native rulers levied on them. It doesn’t take long for people to get used to it.”

“Rome’s lordship is the admiration of the whole world,” Photinus said.

“Come, sit with us, Senator,” Cleopatra said. “You have missed a marvelous presentation.”

“I caught the final verses,” I told her. A moment later Alpheus joined us. Cleopatra presented him with an olive wreath, as if he had won in the Olympics.

“You flatter my modest verses,” said the poet.

“Is this a new poem of yours?” I asked. “I have been working on it for some time,” he said, accepting a cup from one of the servers. “It was commissioned by the Temple of Aphrodite here in Paphos for the great festival. It will begin on the next full moon, ten days from now. Have you visited the Temple of Aphrodite, Senator?”

“I intend to, but I’m not on a sight-seeing expedition so it will have to wait until I have leisure.”