The Seven Hills (37 page)

To the cosmopolitan eyes of the Greeks, the women were not particularly exotic. In deference to their master they had adopted Roman dress, which for women was about as modest as their native Judean. They wore far heavier cosmetics than any respectable Roman woman would, but nothing out
of the ordinary by Alexandrian standards. But they were
twins, always a strange circumstance, and they had a singu
lar attitude that put both men ill at ease. They were like one creature with two bodies, and that creature was not quite human. Something about their speech and movements was not quite right, and both men wondered whether this might be the result of nature or of calculation.

The women told them of the zodiac, and of the nature of birth signs and of the calculation of fortunes therefrom. They learned of the influence of the planets and of the sig
nificance of
kometes,
those "bearded stars" that appeared in
the heavens from time to time, marking the advent of momentous events, the death of kings and the coming of great
conquerors. Some of this they already knew, for astrologers
abounded in Egypt and in other lands as well, but these women truly seemed to possess a far deeper knowledge of the subject than others and claimed access to certain Babylonian texts long thought to be lost.

The men in their turn entertained them with tales of the
lands they had visited, of the wonders they had seen, of volcanoes and whales and lands where frankincense was traded
by the shipload, where feathers of the giant rukh came in
bales, and chests filled with the aphrodisiac horn of the unicorn. Slowly, they steered the conversation toward their city
of residence.

"You have come all the way from Alexandria," Glaphyra
said. "We have heard so much of Alexandria, and have longed to see it."

"The great palace of the Ptolemys," Roxana said, "the
Museum and Library, the Paneum and the Sarapeion and the
tomb of Alexander! It must be a place of wonders."

"Jerusalem is such a backwater," Glaphyra said, pouring wine for all of them. "Yet to hear the priests sing of it, it is the wonder of the world."

"Is it not the holiest of your cities, and the residing place
of your god?" Zeno asked.

The women shrugged in unison. "Our god is a god of the
mountain and desert," Roxana said. "Cities do not seem to be of great concern to him. The prophets of old railed against the wickedness of cities."

"Our faith has a long and unfortunate tradition of unwashed holy men from the wilderness," Glaphyra added.
"Thus the values of ragged desert dwellers are exalted as the
shining ideal of the cosmos. Anything sophisticated or beautiful, anything pleasurable or artistic—all are condemned as ungodly."

"I quite agree," Izates told them. "I, too, was born in your
faith, in the Jewish Quarter of Alexandria. In our quarter there were many reactionary rabbis who condemned the Gentile world as you describe. Fortunately for me, there were also many enlightened, Hellenized Jews, open to the wonders of learning and philosophy. They understood that
clinging to the ancient world of our ancestors is futile. At an
early age I took up lectures and studies in the Museum and
understood the narrowness of our old ways."

"How fortunate you were," said Roxana. "Our mother was Babylonian, and she taught us much of the wisdom of her homeland, but women, even royal women, have never been permitted a true education in Judea."

"Many women study and even teach at the Museum and
the other schools in Alexandria," Izates said. "Our city does not share the prejudice of the rest of the Greek world. I have
known women of Alexandria who are distinguished mathematicians, philosophers and astronomers."

"Really?" said both sisters, seeming truly astonished for
the first time.

"Very much so. And with the Princess Selene as de facto
queen, the position of women in Alexandrian society has seldom been higher."

"It sounds like a vision of Paradise." Glaphyra sighed. "But I fear that our lord, the great General Norbanus, would never permit us to travel there."

"He desires to keep us close always," Roxana concurred.

"You are favored far beyond the lot of common women,"
Zeno said. "You must be the envy of the princesses of the earth. And yet—"

" 'And yet?" said both women in their disconcerting way.

"Nothing," Zeno said, with a dismissive gesture.

"No, tell us," Glaphyra insisted. "You were about to say
that our happiness is not without flaw, weren't you?"

"He was," Roxana said.

"My ladies are most acute," Izates said. "I believe that what my friend was too delicate to say—I am a Cynic, and not nearly so delicate—was that all favors of men are un
trustworthy and easily withdrawn. Men are changeable, and
rulers the most fickle of all. Their unreliability is literally
Proverbial, for does not our own holy book advise: 'Put not
thy trust in princes'?"

"And how might such a fortune befall us?" Glaphyra asked. She said it coolly, as if it were an idle remark, but Izates could tell that she had given the matter much thought.

"In many ways, Olympus forbid that any of them befall. I would never suggest that you would give him a prediction that might prove to be wrong, but a ruler may easily be displeased with one that proves to be all too accurate."

"Such things have happened to other seers," Roxana murmured.

"And, forgive me, ladies, but the philosophy of Cynics is very hard on the vanity of the world, as hard as the prophets,
but even such radiant beauty as yours must fade with time.
A new mistress or wife can bring about a catastrophic down
fall." He said it with great sadness.

"On the other hand," Zeno said, "wisdom and learning such as your own will last a lifetime, in the right setting."

Both women nodded. "The court of Alexandria being such a setting?" Glaphyra said.

"Nowhere else are women such as you held in so much honor," Zeno assured them. "And the learned ladies of
Alexandria are free to come and go as they will, to have their own houses and schools, to found their own salons and con
trol all their own properties. Even husbands cannot forbid this, and no woman of learning and property needs the pro
tection of husband or master. So long as they attend at court
upon the queen's pleasure, the rest of their time is entirely their own."

"It does sound more attractive than these rough soldiers' camps," Roxana admitted, "or the crude palaces of Judea, with their throngs of ignorant, uneducated women of the great families."

"You would not believe the sort of petty intrigue that prevails there should we tell you of it," said Glaphyra.

"I think we can imagine it," Izates assured her.

"We must consider what you have told us," Roxana said.
"These are weighty matters, and not to be taken lightly. Will you be here for long?"

"We sail in a day or two, bearing General Norbanus's correspondence," Zeno said. "But now that the new sea-courier service is under way, the Roman establishment of Egypt and
that of the peripatetic General Norbanus will keep in close touch. It may well be that we shall have occasion to call upon you ladies again, soon should that be your pleasure."

"Be sure to inform us upon your arrival," Glaphyra said.

"It may be that we shall have much to speak of." She ges
tured toward the table full of astrological paraphernalia. "We have not begun to disclose to you our deepest knowledge."

That night the two Greeks lounged in the fine tent Norbanus had put at their disposal.

"Well, our first roll of the bones came up Venus, as the Romans would say," Zeno commented.

"Thus far, we have succeeded beyond our expectations," Izates agreed, sipping at his wine. It was very fine wine, and
he found that he was growing accustomed to fine things.
This was unworthy of a philosopher, he knew. He also knew
that he didn't care.

"We must be very careful with those two," Zeno said.

"It goes without saying."

"You noticed how they spoke in turn?"

Izates nodded. "It's meant to baffle people; confuse them
and throw them off guard."

"That's what I thought. Even after a lapse in conversation, one would speak forthrightly while the other kept silence. Never once did both try to speak at once. I wonder how they arrange that. Some secret signal, do you think?"

"Twins share a bond that others lack. Perhaps no signal is needed, so sensitive is each to the other's thoughts and will.
In some ways they are uncanny, but in most ways they are just common women. Better born, more learned than most, but ordinary, mortal women for all that."

"Ordinary?" Zeno said. "But how? I found them most extraordinary."

"No matter how high they started and how much higher they have risen, they have the same fears that haunt other
women. Men, too, if truth were known. They fear loss of all
they have. They fear old age and mortality."

"They fear being supplanted by other women," Zeno said, nodding. "And now we know what they want that Norbanus cannot give them: a secure future."

"And that is the weakness we will exploit," Izates said.
"We have come a long way from our studies, my friend. We have gone from contemplation of the ideal and the ineffable
to the manipulation of human beings for our own purposes."

"Then it behooves us to do this well. Power is more dan
gerous than wisdom."

In his own tent, Norbanus was contemplating
his own future. The acquisition of Massilia was a great coup.
It would cause outrage in the Senate, but so what? Every
great Roman sought to increase his
clientele.
If he used his
army to do it, he would not be the first. Others before him had placed tribes and nations in clientage to their families.
He had merely done it better. Jonathan of Judea and the city
of Massilia were now his. More would be his soon. Always as
suming, of course, that he remained victorious.

Now he looked at the scroll before him. It held his future
in a way that the predictions of the Judean women could not. Another boat had put in that day, this one from far
west. It had sailed from Cartago Nova, and it carried a mes
senger: a taciturn man who had refused to speak to anyone but the general. The man had shown him a seal, and it had given Norbanus a little thrill that told him the gods had something exceptional in store for him. It was the seal of Princess Zarabel of Carthage.

Great Proconsul Norbanus,
the message began.
The time has
come for us to make common cause, as we did while you were my guest in Carthage. Your countryman Scipio and his Egyptian queen are preparing to make the Middle Sea their own, while my foolish brother tries to emulate Alexander. With what I send you, you can
make yourself master of the world. Make good use of this, and you
and I can rule that world together.

This was bald enough, he thought, though why she thought he would need her, having destroyed Hamilcar, he could not guess. Desperation, he supposed. But what she had sent him was invaluable. It was nothing less than Hamilcar's campaign route and schedule and his order of battle, complete with numbers and units.

Hamilcar had departed Carthage with his army and was
marching west. That meant he was heading for the Pillars of
Hercules and Spain. Then he would turn east and march for Rome. But first he would meet Titus Norbanus.

He, Norbanus, would be first to crush Hamilcar. Not his father, not Scipio or any other Roman. The glory would go to Titus Norbanus the younger. He might have to share the glory of taking Carthage itself, but this would be his alone. It was destiny. It was the will of the gods.

He began to pore feverishly over his maps. Hamilcar would be moving slowly. Norbanus had seen the army of Carthage on the march, and it could not move at anything like the speed of the Roman legions. Hamilcar would plan to link with Mastanabal, to add that victorious general's army to his own.

But he could not do that if Norbanus found Mastanabal
first. It was always good to destroy the enemy's forces in detail, before they had a chance to mass against the Romans. It
was one of the oldest dicta taught in Roman military schools: Bring your greatest strength against the enemy's weakness. This was far better than challenging strength with strength. He studied his maps.

Where was Mastanabal?

The march was proceeding altogether gloriously. The massive Carthaginian Army trailed out behind him so far that should he halt, the last elements would not arrive in his camp for two or three days. Size alone did not dictate this attenuation. So vast a host would devastate any country through which it passed. Friendly territory
would suffer nearly as sorely as that of the enemy. Not that Hamilcar worried overmuch for the welfare and happiness of
his subjects, but his Libyan and Numidian allies could
quickly become enemies and their raids might slow and dis
tract his troops. He needed his allied cavalry and dared not offend even their flea-bitten, barbarous chieftains.