Colleen McCullough - 1. First Man in Rome

A hundred and seventy years before, the Volcae Tectosages had joined a migration of the Gauls led by the second of the two famous Celtic kings called Brennus. This second Brennus had overrun Macedonia, poured down into Thessaly, turned the Greek defense at the pass of Thermopylae, and penetrated into central Greece and Epirus. He had sacked and looted the three richest temples in the world Dodona in Epirus, Olympian Zeus, and the great sanctuary of Apollo and the Pythoness at Delphi. Then the Greeks fought back, the Gauls retreated north with their plunder, Brennus died as the result of a wound, and his master plan fell apart. In Macedonia his leaderless tribes decided to cross the Hellespont into Asia Minor; there they founded the Gallic outpost nation called Galatia. But perhaps half of the Volcae Tectosages wanted to go home to Tolosa rather than cross the Hellespont; at a grand council, all the tribes agreed that these homesick Volcae Tectosages should be entrusted with the riches of half a hundred pillaged temples, including the riches of Dodona, Olympia, and Delphi. It was just that, a trust. The homebound Volcae Tectosages would hold the wealth of that whole migration in Tolosa against the day when all the tribes would return to Gaul, and claim it. They melted everything down, to make their journey home easier: bulky solid-gold statues, silver urns five feet tall, cups and plates and goblets, golden tripods, wreaths made of gold or silver into the crucibles they went, a small piece at a time, until a thousand laden wagons rolled westward through the quiet alpine valleys of the river Danubius, and came at last after several years down to the Garumna and Tolosa.

Caepio had heard the story while he had been governor of Further Spain three years before, and had dreamed ever since of finding the Gold of Tolosa, even though his Spanish informant had assured him the treasure trove was commonly regarded as a myth. There was no gold in Tolosa, every visitor to the city of the Volcae Tectosages swore to that fact; the Volcae Tectosages had no more wealth than their bountiful river and wonderful soil. But Caepio knew his luck. He knew the gold was there in Tolosa. Otherwise, why had he heard the story in Spain, and then got this commission to follow in the footsteps of Lucius Cassius to Tolosa and found the Germans gone when he got there, the city his without a fight? Fortune was working her will, all in his cause. He shed his military gear, put on his purple-bordered toga, and walked the rather rustic alleys of the town, poked through every nook and niche inside the citadel, wandered into the pastures and fields which encroached upon the outskirts in a manner more Spanish than Gallic. Indeed, Tolosa had little Gallic feel to it no Druids, no typical Gallic dislike for an urban environment. The temples and temple precincts were laid out in the fashion of Spanish cities, a picturesque parkland of artificial lakes and rivulets, fed from and going back to the Garumna. Lovely! Having found nothing on his walks, Caepio put his army to looking for the gold, a treasure hunt in a gala atmosphere conducted by troops who were released from the anxiety of facing an enemy, and who smelled a share in fabulous booty. But the gold couldn't be found. Oh, the temples yielded a few priceless artifacts, but only a few, and no bullion. And the citadel was a complete disappointment, as Caepio had already seen for himself; nothing but weapons and wooden gods, horn vessels and plates of fired clay. King Copillus had lived with extreme simplicity, nor were there secret storage vaults under the plain flags of his halls. Then Caepio had a bright idea, and set his soldiers to digging up the parks around the temples. In vain. Not one hole, even the deepest, revealed a sign of a gold brick. The gold diviners brandished their forked withies without finding one tiny signal to set the palms of their hands tingling or the withies bending like bows. From the temple precincts, the search spread into the fields and into the streets of the town, and still nothing. While the landscape came more and more to resemble the demented burrowing of a gigantic mole, Caepio walked and thought, thought and walked. The Garumna was alive with fish, including freshwater salmon and several varieties of carp, and since the river fed the temple lakes, they too teemed with fish. It was more comfortable for Caepio's legionaries to catch fish in the lakes than in the river, wide and deep and swift flowing, so as he walked, he was surrounded by soldiers tying flies and making rods out of willow canes. Down to the biggest lake he walked, deep in thought. And as he stood there, he absently watched the play of light on the scales of lurking fish, glitters-and gleams flickering in and out of the weeds, coming and going, ever changing. Most of the flashes were silver, but now and then an exotic carp would slide into view, and he would catch a gleam of gold. The idea invaded his conscious mind slowly. And then it struck, it exploded inside his brain. He sent for his corps of engineers and told them to drain the lakes not a difficult job, and one which certainly paid off. For the Gold of Tolosa lay at the bottom of these sacred pools, hidden by mud, weeds, the natural detritus of many decades. When the last bar was rinsed off and stacked, Caepio came to survey the hoard, and gaped; that he had not watched as the gold was retrieved was a quirk of his peculiar nature, for he wanted to be surprised. He was surprised! In fact, he was flabbergasted. There were roughly 50,000 bars of gold, each weighing about 15 pounds; 15,000 talents altogether. And there were 10,000 bars of silver, each weighing 20 pounds; 3,500 talents of silver altogether. Then the sappers found other silver in the lakes, for it turned out that the only use the Volcae Tectosages had made of their riches was to craft their millstones out of solid silver; once a month they hauled these silver millstones from the river and used them to grind a month's supply of flour. "All right," said Caepio briskly, "how many wagons can we spare to transport the treasure to Narbo?" He directed his question at Marcus Furius, his praefectus fabrum, the man who organized supply lines, baggage trains, equipment, accoutrements, fodder, and all the other necessities entailed in maintaining an army in the field. "Well, Quintus Servilius, there are a thousand wagons in the baggage train, about a third of which are empty at this stage. Say three hundred and fifty if I do a bit of shuffling around. Now if each wagon carries about thirty-five talents which is a good but not excessive load then we'll need about three hundred and fifty wagons for the silver, and four hundred and fifty wagons for the gold," said Marcus Furius, who was not a member of the ancient Famous Family Furius, but the great-grandson of a Furian slave, and now was a client of Caepio's, as well as a banker. "Then I suggest that we ship the silver first, in three hundred and fifty wagons, unload it in Narbo, and bring the wagons back to Tolosa to transport the gold," said Caepio. "In the meantime, I'll have the troops unload an extra hundred wagons, so that we have sufficient to send the gold off in one convoy." By the end of Quinctilis, the silver had made its way to the coast and been unloaded, and the empty wagons sent back to Tolosa for the gold; Caepio, as good as his word, had found the extra hundred wagons during the interval. While the gold was loaded, Caepio wandered around deliriously from one stack of rich bricks to another, unable to resist stroking one or two in passing. He chewed the side of his hand, thinking hard, and finally sighed. "You had better go with the gold, Marcus Furius," he said then. "Someone very senior will have to stay with it in Narbo until every last brick is safely loaded on board the last ship.'' He turned to his Greek freedman Bias. "The silver is already on its way to Rome, I trust?" "No, Quintus Servilius," said Bias smoothly. "The transports which brought heavy goods across on the winter winds at the beginning of the year have dispersed. I could only locate a dozen good vessels, and I thought it wiser to save them for the gold. The silver is under heavy guard in a warehouse and is quite safe. The sooner we ship the gold to Rome, the better, I think. As more decent ships come in, I'll hire them for the silver." "Oh, we can probably send the silver to Rome by road," Caepio said easily. "Even with the risk of a ship's foundering, Quintus Servilius, I would rather trust to the sea for every single brick, gold and silver," said Marcus Furius. "There are too many hazards by road from raiding alpine tribes." "Yes, you're quite right," agreed Caepio, and sighed. "Oh, it's almost too good to be true, isn't it? We are sending more gold and silver to Rome than there is in every one of Rome's treasuries!" "Indeed, Quintus Servilius," said Marcus Furius, "it is remarkable."