The Seven Hills (5 page)

These men were different from those they had seen
heretofore. Their faces were stern to the point of ferocity and
their bearing was nothing short of regal. They trod like the masters of the earth. The third man to emerge after the two that Gorgas identified as consuls stood a little aside as if he were admiring the view. Then he gazed down at the two Greeks.

"I want to talk to that one," Zeno said. He began to ascend the steps.

"Why that one?" Izates asked, following him.

"He looks more intelligent than the rest. Gorgas, you wait
here." They climbed to the top and stood before the white-
haired man, whose austere face expressed polite interest.

"Rejoice, sir," Zeno said, hoping the man understood
Greek. "We are travelers from Greece. I am Zeno of Athens
and this is my friend Izates of Alexandria. We would ask the
indulgence of the Roman Senate, of which august body I perceive you to be a member of high standing."

The man inclined his head slightly. "Rejoice, Greek. I am Publius Gabinius and I am a senator. How may I be of service to a distinguished visitor? I perceive that you are both men of good birth. Are you officials of Athens?" His
Greek was nearly flawless, but old-fashioned in the manner they had heard their native tongue spoken by other Romans.

"Alas, we are not officials, although we bear letters of in
troduction from the Athenian Council. We are philosophers. Most particularly, I am a historian, and when I heard that the Romans had returned to Italy, I understood that
history is now taking a momentous new turn. It is my desire
to be the historian of the Roman resurgence, and I would very much like to have the approval of the Senate in carrying out my researches."

A very slight smile softened Gabinius's granite features. He liked this young man. Though handsome, he seemed to have none of the effeminacy that Romans associated with Greeks, and his words, while flattering, bore no taint of obsequiousness.

"A historian? Like Herodotus?"

Zeno sighed. It seemed he was never to escape that com
parison. "I can claim nothing so grand, although my friend here thinks I might make a second-rate Thucydides."

Gabinius looked Izates over. "We haven't had much opportunity to study Greek philosophy up north, but some of us have read a bit. We tend to favor the Stoics. Are you of that school?"

"Izates is a Cynic," Zeno told him.

"Aren't the Cynics the ones who growl and snap like dogs?"

"Some people's toes need to be bitten," Izates said.

Again they heard that swords-on-shields laugh. "So they
do! Come, my friends. Join me at my house for some dinner.
I don't know how I may be of service to you, but what little I can do is yours to command."

This, Zeno thought, was amazing luck. If it
was
luck. They fell in beside the Roman as he went down the steps
and turned up a narrow street. His stride was that of a much
younger man, and something occurred to Zeno.

"I notice that most Roman men walk in exactly the same
way, with paces of the same length."

"It's the legionary pace," Gabinius told him, "one thousand paces to the mile. It's drilled into us from boyhood. Short men have to hurry and tall men amble, but every man
walks at the same pace." He turned up a yet narrower street.
"So you are a historian. I take it that this entails much travel?"

"I've traveled more widely than most," Zeno assured him.
"And my new friend Izates is from Alexandria.

"I take it
that you both have visited the lands to the eastern end of the
sea? Our knowledge of those parts is very out of date and wasn't vast when it was current. Perhaps you could tell me something about that part of the world?"

"Gladly," Zeno said, sensing that this was why the Roman had accepted them so readily. He wanted to know
about the East. Perhaps the whole Senate was eager to learn
about those lands. It was hardly a matter for wonder. This hardheaded people would understand that knowledge was
power, and if the Romans understood nothing else, they un
derstood power.

As they walked, ordinary people greeted Gabinius as a personal friend and he returned their greetings, pausing to exchange words with many of them. Common citizens, it seemed, had great respect for their rulers but held them in little awe. This Zeno approved. It reminded him of the Athenian democracy in the days of Pericles. He remarked upon this to Gabinius.

"Oh, yes. The highest offices are open to all citizens save freedmen recently manumitted, and even they may hold the lower, municipal posts. Among my colleagues in the Senate are men whose ancestry stretches back to Romulus, and others whose grandfathers were barbarian warriors who fought us along the Rhine and the Danube two generations ago."

"We lack your flexible concept of citizenship," Zeno said,
"but something of the sort has happened with the spread of Greek civilization. My friend here," he nudged Izates with an elbow, "could be mistaken for a native Hellene, but he was born a Jew."

Gabinius looked at Izates with new interest. "I've heard of your nation. Is it true that you have only one god? That seems unnatural."

"It seems unnatural to everyone but us. But even Plato and other philosophers have speculated that there is only a single godhead, and that men have divided that deity into many aspects in order to explain the phenomena of nature and the universe: Zeus for thunder and lightning, Poseidon for the sea, Aphrodite for the attraction between men and
women, Dionysus for the terrible forces of nature, Apollo for
the enlightened thoughts of men and so forth."

"This is fascinating. I can see we shall have many enthralling discussions. Tell me, do your people still have their own kingdom, between Egypt and Seleucid Syria?"

The Romans are truly concerned about the power structure of the
East,
Zeno thought.
Something must be happening there.

"Yes, the Hasmonean family clings to the kingdom of Judea. Egypt cares nothing for that part of the world anymore, and the Seleucids are too hard-pressed by the Parthiaris to give them much trouble."

"So your kingdom is strong and secure?"

"No longer my kingdom or my people," Izates said. "I'm
more of an Alexandrian Greek, as Zeno says. But a man
can't separate himself from his ancestry. The kingdom is beset by civil war, but that's an old story. When we are not
united against an outside enemy, we fall to fighting among ourselves."

"Just like Greeks," Zeno said.

"Here we are. This is my house, which you are to regard as your own."

They stood before a blank wall that stretched in both directions for a considerable distance. They walked through the door into a spacious entrance hall dominated by a tall
wooden chest. Before the chest was a bronze statue of a god,
before which smoldered a small brazier. Gabinius took a
pinch of incense from a box next to the brazier and dropped
it onto the coals. His guests did the same.

"Is this your household god?" Zeno asked.

"This is Quirinus. He is our founder, Romulus, in deified
form. This cabinet holds the wax death masks of my ancestors. My great-grandfather took them north on the exile and I have returned them home."

"Is this the home of your ancestors?" Zeno asked, looking around. Like most things in Rome, it looked and smelled new.

"There was little left but the foundations when we returned, but I have restored it exactly as it was. Most of us were able to locate our old homes. Our ancestors kept careful records of everything. Most especially of our lands and houses. This one has been in my family since Rome had kings."

They passed into a courtyard surrounding a pool in which a modest fountain played. The sides and bottom of
the pool were lined with blue tiles lacking any design or or
nament. The surrounding colonnade shaded the entrances to a number of rooms, but it held no sculptures. Instead, climbing plants were placed at intervals in large, earthen
ware pots. The vines had only begun to ascend the columns.

"We could use the triclinium," Gabinius said, "but the weather is so fine I suggest we eat out here. Does that suit you?"

"Admirably," Zeno assured him. "I can think of no lovelier setting."

"It is in excellent taste," Izates said grudgingly.

Gabinius smiled. "You mean it lacks any ornament? I know that you Greeks are fond of restraint. Actually, this place is just new, or rather newly restored. We could cart away little with us on the exile, and Hannibal's men took
everything else. We Romans are rather fond of display and gaudy decoration. Come back in a few years and see whether
you approve then."

Slaves brought out a table and chairs. "We recline only at banquets," Gabinius explained. "For ordinary meals we pre
fer to sit."

"Better for the digestion anyway," Izates said. "People shouldn't lie around like beached fish at a meal. Food was not meant to pass through the body horizontally."

They took chairs, and slaves brought ewers and basins to wash their hands. Cups were filled, and each splashed a bit
onto the courtyard before drinking. The first course was hard-boiled eggs, and Gabinius explained that nearly every
Roman meal began with eggs. They spoke of inconsequen
tial matters through the simple dinner. The eggs were followed by grilled fish, then stewed lamb and, finally, fresh apples and pears. Throughput, platters of bread and cheese
and bowls of oil and of a pungent fish sauce stood filled for
the diner's use. When the plates were cleared away and the wine cups refilled, serious talk began.

"Why do you find Rome a fit subject for study?" Gabinius asked.

"Because the state seemed poised to take an important place on the world's stage when Hannibal eliminated it so abruptly. From obscure origins, Rome had thrust forth into importance in an incredibly short time. Its inhabitants and constitution showed every sign of destiny. Then all was cut short by Carthage. That much would rate a historical footnote.

"But over the years we received cryptic word of a new
Rome in the North, busily subduing the barbarians. This was more interesting yet. Nations that have been crushed usually disappear. Now you have returned, seemingly stronger and more warlike than ever. This is most remarkable of all, an unprecedented thing. I want to know how it happened and, more importantly, I want to chronicle what happens next."

Gabinius nodded. "A laudable project. In my library are several histories of Rome, both pre-and post-exile. Please feel free to use them in your researches."

"You are more than generous," Zeno said.

"I wish to enlighten you about Rome. At the same time,
I and other Romans have much to learn about this world we
have reentered. Perhaps you can help me there."

"Gladly."

Zeno had no compunctions about supplying the Roman with information that might well be put to military use. Greece was a tributary of Macedonia and he regarded the Macedonians as no better than barbarians. Rome was the implacable enemy of Carthage, and Carthage had resisted the spread of Greek interests in the western Mediterranean.
The Romans were brutal, but Carthage had become a by
word for cruelty.

Gabinius told them of the great northward march; when the Romans took their household gods and sacred objects,
their arms and whatever tools they could carry and sought a
new home beyond the Alps. He told them of the hungry
early years, of the resistance by native peoples, and of the Romans' ultimate victory. He told of Roman expansion year by year, and of how certain native nobles saw in the new
comers an opportunity for themselves.

"Since that time," Gabinius said, "we have spoken of the old families and the new families. Old families like my own
date from the exile. New families are of northern origin."

"And they are full citizens?" Zeno asked, intrigued as al
ways by this unique concept of citizenship.

"Certainly. Our Consul Norbanus, whom you saw leaving the Curia today, belongs to the most prestigious of the
new families. They have been consulars for more than fifty years. His father and grandfather were consuls and a great
grandfather was praetor shortly after the exile. He was a chieftain who understood that supporting Rome would make him far more than lord over a few hundred obstreperous savages."

It sounded too cozy and friendly for Zeno. No Greek could truly believe in political harmony on any profound level, and he remembered the shouting from inside the Curia. He sensed that there must be tension, jealousy and resentment between these new and old families.

In response to the Roman's questions, Zeno spoke of the situation in Greece, of the great coastal cities of Antioch,
Sidon and Tyre, of the islands Cyprus and Rhodes. Gabinius
asked Izates about Judea and its capital, Jerusalem. Zeno noticed that his friend was not asked about his native city, Alexandria, even though the capital of Egypt was perhaps the most important city on the sea.