The Seven Hills (14 page)

"You've been right about him so far," Selene said.

Marcus shook his head. "No. I was wrong about him for far too long. I thought he was nothing but a Forum politician who would be worthless at war. I don't dare underestimate him again."

"If he gets things his way in Israel," Flaccus said, "what
will he do next?"

"That," said Selene, "will depend upon what Antiochus of Syria decides to do about him."

Titus Norbanus watched his men as they practiced maneuvers with Jonathan's army. The Judeans had nothing like the professionalism of the Romans, but they were spirited and had the appearance of brave men, though only the test of battle would prove that. Best of all, they had never adopted the rigid Macedonian phalanx, so he would not have to break them of the habits inherent in that obsolete combat formation.

The bulk of Jonathan's soldiers were peasants who
fought as spearmen, providing both light and heavy infantry.
The shepherds of the hill country fought unarmored, with small shields, javelins and curved knives. They were excellent scouts and skirmishers. Best of all, the country abounded in slingers and archers, arms in which the Romans were weak.

The wellborn young men provided Jonathan's cavalry. They were excellent horsemen and their mounts were surprisingly fine. This was an added bonus, for the Romans were at best indifferent cavalrymen, despite the splendid horses of Noricum. The hilly, wooded terrain of Noricum did not favor cavalry warfare, and the Romans had never emphasized its arts.

"We can put together a finely balanced expedition force
with these men as our allies," Norbanus said to his subordinates.

"At least until we've taken Manasseh's kingdom and given it to his brother," Cato said.

"Of course," said Norbanus. "Then, it will be time to renegotiate." He swept his commanders with his blue-eyed gaze and he approved of their appearance. Gone were the rags and grime of their desert crossing. Jonathan had been
generous with his new allies and had given each officer rich
clothing in accordance with the man's rank. Nor had the legionaries been neglected. They wore fine new tunics, and their helmets sported colorful crests and plumes.

The king had given Norbanus an extravagant purple cloak heavily embroidered with pure gold, and he now rode a horse so blindingly white that it might have been albino except for its fine black eyes. In concert with his already splendid uniform, patterned after Alexander's, he looked like a war god's statue come to life. Most men would have
looked ridiculous in such a rig, but Norbanus had the swag
ger and presence to carry it off. His officers refrained from comment lest they appear envious.

"Lentulus Niger," Norbanus said.

"Yes, General?"

"I want as many of our men as possible to train on horse
back at every opportunity. Let's not waste time trying to train them to fight from horseback, but I want them able to ride whenever necessary. That will give us a flying force in future operations. From all indications, most of the land in our immediate line of march favors mounted troops."

"Very good, sir," said Niger. "The Gallic boys are already good riders. They can help train their German and Italian friends who think horses are for pulling chariots in the Circus."

"When we've beaten Manasseh, I'll demand all his horses as part of our reward." Norbanus touched his horse's flank
with a small golden spur and the animal leapt down the slope before him. His soldiers waved their heavy javelins and cheered as he rode along the front line, shouting praise or disapproval as he passed each unit.

Niger spat on the ground and snapped his fingers. The soldier detailed as his orderly ran up to his stirrup and handed him a wineskin. He took a drink and handed the skin across to Cato. "Do you think he'll demand one of the royal ladies as part of his reward, too?"

Cato grinned and raised the skin, directing a stream of rough local wine into his mouth. He passed it to the officer on his left and wiped his lips with the back of his hand. "Reward? Jonathan will demand he take them, just to get
the bitches off his hands!" This raised a laugh from the knot
of officers.

Their commander had proven to be a great favorite with the women of the royal household. The king's wives and
daughters were kept secluded in a women's wing of the palace,
but his numerous sisters and aunts had the run of the place,
and court manners proved to be quite different from those of
the populace. The royal family wore their religion lightly, and
observed its many taboos and strictures only as suited them.

Holy men from the hinterlands, known locally as prophets, sometimes came to Jerusalem and inveighed against the loose morals of the palace. Jonathan usually found it politic to ignore them. The priests of the temple were far more accommodating.

The most aggressive of the royal women was Tamar, Jonathan's aunt. She was a great beauty and only a year or two older than the king himself. A woman of great force and passion, she might have shocked the Romans had they not already encountered Zarabel, princess and priestess of Carthage. The king's half-sisters, Glaphyra and Roxana, were twins. Their mother was Babylonian, and they were rumored to be addicted to unnatural practices. All three paid extravagant attention to the dashing Roman commander, and these were only the most notable of the palace women.

"I wonder if Manasseh's court has all the royal sons," Niger said.

"If so, I hope his luck in battle isn't as good," Cato commented.

When Norbanus had finished inspecting his troops, he rode back into Jerusalem through the Joppa gate and through the narrow, winding streets to the upper city. Above the smoky, tumbledown structures of the lower city, the wealthy had their dwellings. Finest among these was
Jonathan's palace, a rambling mansion far more modest than
the royal dwellings of Carthage and Alexandria.

.Norbanus rode up the steps to the terrace and drew rein as servants rushed to take charge of his horse. He dismounted and surveyed the city. On higher ground stood the Temple. He still found it difficult to understand a nation that had but a single temple to house its solitary god.

The Temple was magnificently adorned, but like the
palace it was of no great size. The successor kings who had
followed Alexander had set the style for grandiose building
projects, and like them the Jewish kings had longed to build an ostentatiously huge temple to aggrandize themselves and their city, but Jonathan had explained that ritual law thwarted them. Their holy scriptures specified the dimensions of the Temple down to the last cubit, and it could be built no larger. So the kings had contented themselves with adorning the Temple and building a vast terrace of interlocking courtyards to surround it. Much of the hilltop was surrounded by a great retaining wall to support the foundations of the spectacular terrace.

Norbanus turned from the view and strode into the palace, past the Greek mercenary guardsmen who saluted with their spears, into the cool interior. Here the walls were
frescoed and the floors inset with colorful mosaics, the designs drawn from Greek mythology, in violation of the local
cult's strictures against representations of living things.

The rooms of the palace were not large, for they saw little use. In this part of the world, most social life was carried on in gardens and under rooftop bowers. Even dinners and ban
quets were often held outdoors. He knew from Jonathan that the Judeans had once been desert wanderers and pastoralists, and they had not strayed far from their nomadic
roots. They preferred a fine garden to the finest house.

He went to the great formal garden on the eastern end of
the palace, where the royal family usually congregated after
the sun had passed its zenith. Up the garden walls climbed ivy and along their base grew myrtle. Huge jars were planted with silphium, hyssop and other medicinal herbs. There were date palms and fig trees and grape arbors, but the greater part of the garden was in the Persian style. This
meant that the many raised beds were planted with flowers,
cultivated for their color and beauty alone.

In the center, near the largest of the garden's many foun
tains, Norbanus found the Lady Tamar, attended by her
women. There were other men and women of the household
lounging about the garden, but Tamar had seized this particularly attractive spot as her own and she held it against the other women. Norbanus suspected that a variety of Forum politics prevailed within the palace, with alliances,
power blocs, and perhaps the occasional judicious assassina
tion to determine rank and preeminence.

Tamar's clothing left little visible save her face and
hands. Even her hair was covered by a veil. The voluminous
gown that draped her body fell in graceful folds that revealed little of the shape beneath, yet she possessed the art of making even this over-modest attire subtly provocative.

"Good afternoon, General." At her gesture, servants brought a chair for Norbanus. With studied art he sat,
sweeping his cloak to drape over the chair's arms in graceful
folds. He opened a hand without looking and a slave placed a fine goblet in his grasp.

"Will you be marching against Manasseh soon?" she asked.

"I would prefer more time to organize and train," he told
her. "Otherwise, your nephew's army and mine cannot act with cohesion."

"My nephew's army," she said, "had better cohere, and
quickly, because my other nephew's army is on its way."

Norbanus cut a calculating look at her. "You've had word?"

"I have my sources." She favored him with a bland smile.

"What else have your sources told you?"

"That Manasseh has been assembling his army near Megiddo. That he has requested help from Parthia."

"Has such help arrived?" This was astounding. Unless
the woman was weaving her story from whole cloth, she had
spies within Manasseh's court, and couriers to keep her in contact with them.

She smiled again. "There has hardly been time for that.
Manasseh is headstrong and has already begun moving his
army south. But I think you had better move rather quickly now. Parthians ride much faster than our own soldiers march, so he could have his reinforcements by the time he joins battle with you."

"Roman soldiers march faster than most ride," he assured
her, but inwardly he was not so sanguine. This Manasseh
was clearly a man of quick decision. "It's a risky thing, ask
ing for Parthian assistance. Once the king has his soldiers inside Manasseh's land, he may want to keep them there."

"This is something we needn't fear from you Romans?"
She smiled as she said it but he felt the sting, as was intended.

"We are most meticulous in observing our treaty obligations," he said.

"Those treaties never seem to specify a date by which al
lied troops should be off our territory."

"Because our allies find us so valuable. They often man
age to get into another war immediately, relying upon our
aid." He took a sip. "But we shall be on our way as soon as we've crushed Manasseh, and his allies, if need be. We have
to get back to Rome."

"And it might be a good idea for you to move your army
away from Jerusalem very soon," she said.

"Move my army away? Why?" He was instantly suspicious. It was basic sense for a general to stay close to his men. An attempt to separate him from his troops usually
meant treachery on the part of an enemy or even an ally. Es
pecially an ally.

"There are some new prophets in town. These are from the North, from Galilee. They heard of this foreign army and came to look for signs of corruption."

"Corruption?" Norbanus said, mystified.

"Exactly. The prophets make it their special duty to see that the people are not tempted to follow foreign ways. That, you see, leads to worshipping foreign gods."

"What harm does it do to honor the gods of other peo
ple?" he asked. "We are always careful not to insult the gods
of others."

"It is all too easy to insult the god of the Jews without in
tending to. For instance, these prophets, led by one Joshua
ben Joshua, are complaining about the idols your men carry
before them."

"I have no idea what you are talking about."

"The eagles and bulls and scorpions and so forth that the men dressed in animal skins carry on poles before the troops."

"You mean the military standards?" he said, incredulous.
"Your prophets object to our standards?"

"Yes. They are graven images, you see. Our religion for
bids the making of any object that imitates a living thing."

"So I've heard. What about those lion-things with wings and human heads that flank the entrance to your temple? Or the bronze bulls that support the big water bowl in front of it?"

She smiled again. "There is of course an exception for the
holy objects of the Temple. There is no exception for foreigners like you. When the Syrian Antiochus tried to introduce Greek statues and Greek rites in our holy places, there was war."