The Seven Hills (33 page)

"Senators, I stand before you as Rome's most loyal servant. Outside stand Rome's most capable soldiers. Use us! I
did not just lead the greatest march in Roman history so that • I could stay here and build a villa and bask in the admiration of my peers. Senators, my march is not yet half-completed!"

The senators muttered and looked at one another. What could he mean?

"Senators, for more than a hundred years we let our minds be fixated upon one thought: Destroy Carthage! Like a man tracking a lion to its den, we thought only of going south, taking Sicily, and jumping off from there to attack the great city itself. We thought about this so single-mindedly that we left a back door open to the Carthaginians. We forgot that they could attack us from the north, despite the fact that Hannibal did that very thing! Only by luck and the favor of the gods did we survive this blunder. The soldiers fought like Romans always do, and the
Carthaginian general, while better than ours, was no Hanni
bal. Look!"

He pointed a beringed finger at the golden model of Rome, then drew an imaginary line along the Italian coast northward to Cisalpine Gaul, then along its southern coast and that of Spain.

"I propose that I take my army and march north. I will
pick up the legions that replaced those lost at the Arnus and
with them proceed through Gaul to Spain and the Pillars of Hercules. I will take every city along my route: Massilia, Narbo, Cartago Nova and the rest. I will reduce them and make them swear obedience to Rome. Any natives who resist I will crush. Any Carthaginian army I meet I will destroy, and I swear by all the gods that I will not spare a single man who takes the pay of Hamilcar. All must die."

Now he looked at Africa. "From Spain I will cross the strait to Mauretania and then march east. I will make alliance with the kings and chieftains of Numidia and Libya. Failing that, I will crush them, too. I will strike the city of Carthage from the west, while the main force strikes from Sicily. We will have Carthage in a vise and she will crack open like rotten wood."

"How will such a campaign be supported, even supposing we agree to it?" Gabinius asked.

"I have a navy now, a very large one. It will accompany
my march and will deal with any Carthaginian fleet that dares show itself."

An elderly Brutus stood.
"Your
army!
Your
fleet! Have
you
become Rome, young Norbanus?"

Norbanus did not flinch. "We knew what the gods wanted when the eagles flew south from Noricum. I think
the gods have now shown that they favor me. Dare their dis
pleasure if you will."

The Senate held its collective breath, but Jupiter sent no lightning.

"And I want the main thrust, to be launched from Sicily, to be commanded by my father, Titus Norbanus the elder."

The uproar was fit to rend the roof and send it skyward in
tattered ribbons. The consuls sent their lictors into the bleachers to enforce silence.

"General Norbanus," said the Consul Gracchus when order was restored, "we cannot contemplate a major campaign in which members of the same family hold the highest com
mand. We have already apportioned military duties for the upcoming invasion of Africa. Your father, the Proconsul
Norbanus, of course has a splendid command, with three legions assigned to the first thrust against Carthage. But overall command has been given to the Proconsul Scaeva, hero of Syracuse. You both deserve honor, but not this." There came
a rumble of agreement.

Now the elder Norbanus stepped forward. He had noth
ing like his son's dash and flair, and he wore plain iron mail
of Gallic make and carried a simple bronze helmet beneath his arm, but he was a man of impressive gravity. "Noble senators, there will be quibbling in this house until we all die of old age. My son's war plan is bold, but it is worthy of
Rome, where only greatness is acceptable. You may call for a division of the house, you may call for ten divisions. It does
not matter, because this will be determined by the Roman people."

He swept the assembled senators with his eagle gaze. "Even now, the tribunes of the plebs are calling for an as
sembly. The Tribune Aemilius will place before the people a
new law, the
lex Aemilia,
which will assign the commands for this war exactly as has just been outlined to you. That law will pass, I assure you. You can accede gracefully and ratify the law, or you can continue in stiff-necked opposition, but then you will only earn the contempt the people always give to obstinate aristocrats."

In the low mutter that followed this statement, Gabinius
sat with his eyes closed, feeling every one of his many years.
Much was clear now. All year there had been rumors: that young Norbanus was sending chests of money from the
East, that some decidedly odd men were standing for the of
fice of tribune of the plebs. He had paid little attention at the time. Strange things were bound to happen when all the best men were away with the legions. Now he understood what had been happening all along. The Norbani had accomplished something very like a coup.

He looked around at his fellow senators. Had this been
an ordinary session, had the younger senators not been away on military service, violence would have broken out by now. Weapons might have been drawn. These men were too old
or unfit, to resist strongly, and that, too, had been a part of the Norbanus plan. He rose, leaning on his walking stick, and slowly the Senate quieted.

"My colleagues, I see that a new star has risen in the Ro
man firmament. In the past, since we expelled the Etruscan kings, it has been our practice to see that no one family, no one man, ever held the power that we once granted only to kings. But who is to say that this did not bring upon us
many disastrous defeats? Perhaps a Roman king would have
crushed Hannibal in the first battle. No matter. What is absolutely clear is that these are extraordinary times. At this hour, we are as the Greek army before Troy, when the actions of Agamemnon offended Apollo. Are we to send Achilles to his tent to sulk in the hour when we need him most?" He gestured eloquently in supplication to his peers. Then he went on.

"I think not. You all know me. None has been so firm in opposing the pretensions of military adventurers. None has
been so staunch in defense of our ancient liberties. Yet, all of
you know me as a voice of reason. When many accused young Scipio of treason, I counseled that we give him his head. He is doing something new; let us see what he can make of it. When others said that young Norbanus was far exceeding the authority granted him, I said that we put him in a terrible position, let him extricate himself and his men
as he may. And now who can say that he has not succeeded
gloriously?

"Now this same youth proposes something incredible. He wants to finish a complete circumambulation of the Middle Sea by a Roman army, finishing with a siege of Carthage. Is this overweening ambition? Absolutely. But I agree with his father. This thing is
worthy!
The gods do not
expect less of us. I, wholeheartedly and in advance of any decision by the
Consilium Plebis,
say that we must give Nor
banus the younger what he demands." Abruptly, he sat. He hoped fervently that his colleagues would understand his implication: that by conceding, they set the incredibly ambitious boy up to fail in a spectacular manner. And if he should succeed?

Well,
Gabinius thought,
perhaps this is the future and the
will of the gods: that Rome be ruled henceforth by its best generals
instead of its oldest families. Who is to say that this is not just?

While the Senate debated, the two Norbani came to speak with the princeps.

"That was the sort of statesmanship that raised Rome to power over the barbarians," the elder Norbanus said.

"I did not expect this, Princeps," said the younger.

Hands folded atop his cane, Gabinius studied the glittering boy before him. "You have risen far and fast, young
Titus. Men have risen so before. Rome has a way of raising such men in times of crisis. Rome also has a way of tearing
them down as swiftly."

The father smiled crookedly. "You think I haven't told him that?"

"You are making mortal enemies," Gabinius pointed out.

"The greatness of a man is, judged by the number and quality of his enemies," said Norbanus the younger. "What else is the point of our lives?" It was the simple philosophy of the Senate, an intensely competitive body of men in
which each strove for honor above his peers.

"Much leeway is granted the truly gifted among us," Gabinius told him. "Those touched by the gods are not al
ways treated as ordinary men. But their actions must always
be understood to be for Rome's benefit, not their own."

Young Norbanus bristled, but his father. stepped in smoothly. "No one has ever accused the Norbani of disloyalty, or of striving for their own glory to the detriment of Rome's welfare. But this is our hour, and Rome will be the greater for it."

Gabinius nodded, knowing destiny when it stared him in the face. In time the senators came to an agreement and
they descended from the seats, coming down onto the "sea"
to congratulate the Norbani.

I
have lived to see the Senate of Rome walking on silk,
Gabinius thought.
What can this portend for the future?

"My instructions are quite unequivocal,"
Marcus Scipio explained. "I am to proceed against Carthage upon orders from the Senate, which, it is implied, will not be long in coming."

"You won't frighten the Carthaginians much," said Selene. "Just two Romans, though I've given you impressive uniforms."

The Romans and the de facto queen of Egypt were alone in her conference room, as Scipio had insisted.

"It is understood that I will arrive at the harbor of
Carthage with a sizable navy, including the new vessels de
signed by the Archimedeans."

"I believe the navy you refer to is the Egyptian navy, not
the Roman. It is mine."

"And, Your Majesty," Flaccus said smoothly, "it is for that very reason that we speak with you today. Rome is at war with Carthage. Egypt is at war with Carthage. An alliance only makes sense."

"Why?" she asked. "Hamilcar attacked Alexandria. Hamilcar was defeated. He has gone back to Carthage. I do not see why I should undertake an expensive, destructive war out of pique."

"Majesty," Scipio said, trying to hold his temper, "it is not enough to drive an enemy away. To be safe, you must track him to his lair and destroy both the enemy and the lair. It is the only way."

"Say you so?" She studied him coolly. "I am most grateful for your contributions to the defense of Alexandria, yet I re
call that there were Roman legions with Hamilcar's army. They were instrumental in defeating my brother's force in the first battle, and then they ravaged their way down the Nile doing great harm."

"Yes," Flaccus agreed, "but there was no Rome-Carthage alliance. The agreement was purely one of convenience, and
terminated when we invaded Sicily."

"I see," she said without expression. "And what if it should suit your 'convenience' to turn against Egypt as well? How am I to know that you will treat me any less treacherously than you treated Hamilcar?"

"Treachery?" Scipio shouted, his face going crimson.
"There was no treachery! Hamilcar insisted on regarding the legions as mercenaries, mere hirelings. That in itself was a deadly insult! Rome owed him no friendship, no loyalty."

"If, on the other hand," Flaccus added, "Your Majesty signs a treaty of alliance with Rome, your position will be
absolutely unassailable. Your enemies become ours and you
may call upon the legions of Rome at any threat. This is no small thing. Rome is most scrupulous about observing the particulars of treaties."

"Let me think about this," she said. "You will have my
answer tomorrow. You have my leave to go now."

The men bowed and withdrew. They left the conference room and passed through a crowd of courtiers, their faces set
in the impassive Roman mask. They crossed a wide court
yard and entered their own quarters, where Scipio threw his
helmet across the room against the wall. It fell to the floor, flattened on one side and its precious plumes tattered.

"Damn the woman!" he shouted. "Two years of sweet talk and cooperation—I save her city, her kingdom, her throne and her life, and this is how she treats us! How am I
to face the Senate if I can't
get
an Egyptian alliance after all
this!"

"Calm yourself, Marcus," Flaccus said, pouring them both some wine. "She is just playing with us. She wants to remind us that she is a sovereign queen—"

"She's not a sovereign queen," Scipio reminded him. "She's a princess and her brother is the king. She rules through our actions and favor."

"Nonetheless, she does not want to be seen as our puppet. Her court and the city of Alexandria must perceive her as a divine ruler and descendant of Ptolemy the Great, not a client of the Roman Senate. They've deposed other rulers who showed themselves to be under the thumb of foreigners. Believe me, she knows that her only future lies in alliance with Rome. She just has to grant it, not beg for it."