'Do you think I exaggerate? It's covered with the stuff-oh, I see.'
'Exactly. How rich do you think Achillas is? There are no nobles in Egypt as rich as Crassus, and that much iron bought all at once would bankrupt a small kingdom.'
I should have thought of it. When Sethotep told me that Achillas was a younger son, I should have realized that Achillas probably owned little more than his arms and his arrogance. There was great wealth behind those military contraptions.
'But Ptolemy is a beggar!' I protested.
'Makes you wonder where all that money we've given him went, doesn't it?'
My mind darted around. Somehow, even discounting my rueful affection for the old winebag, I couldn't picture Ptolemy as the mastermind behind this absurd bid for power through superior machinery. Another thought came to me.
'Perhaps Achillas is front man for a horde of those disaffected satraps and nomarchs we've been hearing about,' I hazarded.
'That's more like it. But I can't see them pooling their wealth and keeping it secret at the same time. Support with words, yes, and promises of aid and alliance once war is joined, that I can imagine. But parting with substantial money? These little Macedonian and Egyptian lordlings are too jealous of one another for that. Each would think he was giving more than his share, that the others were cheating him. And, Decius, you must learn one thing about all large-scale foreign conspiracies against Rome. Heed me, now, because you'll run into it many times if you live long enough.' This was the older generation of Metelli teaching the younger, so I listened respectfully. I also knew that it would be damned good advice, because the elders of my family knew domestic and world politics as few other people did.
'If many men of small power are asked to combine against us, there are always some who know that their future lies in bringing word to us and aiding us against their fellows. Many a little chieftain has become a subject- king that way.' I was to recall these words in later years when I encountered Antipater and his ferocious, gifted son, Herod. 'No one has come to us with news of this conspiracy, expressing a willingness to replace Ptolemy on the throne in Alexandria.'
'Then what could it be?' I demanded. 'Someone has decided that Roman might can be challenged with these ridiculous machines, and has expended vast wealth on the possibility.'
'Well, that's the sort of thing you're supposed to be good at ferreting out. Get to it.' With that, he left me pondering among the olives. That was where Julia found me.
'You look unusually grave this morning,' she said.
'This is what I look like when I'm torn between elation and distress,' I said. Then I brought her up to date on my discoveries of the previous day and that morning.
'Why didn't you take me on your spying mission?' she said, which was just like her.
'For one thing, you've limited experience of guerrilla warfare.'
'You just wanted to go off adventuring by yourself,' she retorted.
'It could have turned very dangerous. I don't want you hurt over this matter. The Caesars would never forgive me.'
'As if you cared about them.' Having established some form of verbal victory, she went on. 'Have you seen the streets this morning?'
'They seemed rather crowded. Is there some sort of religious holiday being celebrated?'
'People are streaming in from the countryside. It seems that Ataxas has had another vision. Baal-Ahriman will speak very soon, ushering in a new age for Egypt and the world. People are dropping everything else to be there.'
'If it's this crowded near the Palace, what must the Rakhotis be like?'
'I expect to find out. Berenice and a large party of her social set will be going to the temple this afternoon. She has invited Fausta and me to go with her. Would you like to go as well?'
'I wouldn't miss it for anything!' I said.
Her eyes narrowed. 'I'll bet you think those priestesses will flog themselves again.'
'No, far from it. The poor dears aren't recovered from last time. It's something else.'
Even narrower. 'What?'
'I'll have to muse it over for a while,' I said, unaware at first of my unintended wordplay.
'Muse? Who is the Muse of snoops and investigators?'
'A good question. Clio comes the closest, I suspect. She is the Muse of history, and I try to uncover the truth behind historic lies. Or perhaps there's another Muse, a nameless one for men like me.'
'Your genius is a strange one. Uncle Caius has often said so.' Always Uncle Caius.
I rounded up Rufus and some of the livelier members of the embassy staff and told them of the upcoming sport. We had the huge official litter brought and loaded it up with enough food and wine for a minor banquet. We ended up with a party of six, each man bringing a personal slave to attend to his needs. Then we waited by the main Palace gate for Berenice's party.
'If the streets are so crowded,' Rufus said, 'these land-going triremes are going to take hours just to get to the Rakhotis.' He should have known that would be taken care of.
When Berenice's party arrived, it was preceded by a flying wedge of a hundred Macedonian soldiers to help ease its passage. The men were dressed in the flashing bronze armor and towering scarlet plumes of the Palace guard. Behind them came Berenice's massive palanquin containing her personal favorites, including Julia and Fausta, a horde of slaves, dwarfs and dancers, plus numerous hissing cheetahs and frolicking baboons.
'I am so happy you have decided to join us!' Berenice yelled over the noise. 'Just fall in behind my conveyance. The others will make room for you.'
We did as directed, and the riders in the two other litters looked annoyed at being thus separated from their deity. I got a particularly ferocious glare from Achillas, who rode in the second litter. I was not surprised to see him there. Then, amid a shrilling of flutes and a pounding of drums, the twang of harps and the rattle of sistra, we were off.
Even with the soldiery clearing the way, our progress through the streets of Alexandria was leisurely. Densely packed mobs can get out of the way only so fast. From the Palace we took the Street of Argeus south to the Canopic Way, where we turned west like a line of warships veering into harbor on a still day. The crowds cheered us and sang praises to Berenice even as the soldiers' spears poked them out of our path. Flowers showered us, for everyone seemed to be wearing garlands. A good many were also draped with snakes, which I was grateful they did not throw at us.
'It's shaping up to be a lively day,' Rufus said, his head now sporting a rose wreath.
'Things must be getting really raucous at the temple,' I said, holding out my cup, which Hermes promptly filled.
'At this rate we may miss the statue speaking,' said one of the staff.
'Have no fear,' I told him. 'That god is not going to speak until the princess and all the most important dignitaries are present.'
'If this god has such a regard for royalty,' Rufus said, 'why does he operate through a greasy little Asiatic prophet?'
'Alien gods are strange, are they not?' I agreed. 'Our gods make their will known through omens sent to the augurs; an orderly and sensible system. Asian deities are altogether an emotional and irrational lot. They depend much on enthusiasm, oblique utterances and coincidence. Although sometimes those coincidences can turn out to be convenient for certain parties.'
'Eh?' Rufus said. 'You're babbling again, Decius.'
'I'll make you a little wager,' I said. 'Five hundred denarii says this god is about to predict a sudden shift in Egyptian-Roman relations.'
'You know something, Decius,' he said. 'You can't fool me. You bet on chariots and gladiators because you fancy yourself an expert. You wouldn't offer a wager like that if you weren't privy to some inside information. What is it? Have you been seeing one of those priestesses for a bit of clandestine flagellation?'
'Not at all,' I said, my dignity offended. 'I have arrived at this conclusion through a process of deduction.' They all laughed and hooted at me.
'You've been hanging out with those old philosophers too much, Metellus,' one of them said. 'You've begun
