women got.)
In the box with us that day was a man whose dress and beard were Greek, and everything about him reeked of wealth. He took a keen interest in the fights and seemed knowledgeable about the fighters, for he knew each man by name, his style, and the number of his victories. When the two-sword man and his opponent came out, he leaned toward me and said, 'Praetor, which of these two do you fancy?'
I could not imagine how a man bearing two offensive weapons could defend himself properly. 'I favor the spearman. He has good armor and a shield. He can attack and defend himself at the same time. The other man can only attack.'
'That is the conventional interpretation, but there is nothing conventional about such a fight.' He smiled in that superior Greek way. 'I think that, should you bet on the two-sword man, you will leave this place richer than when you arrived.'
'Who would take such a bet?'
The Greek looked around, then said, 'Since no one else seems inclined, I will bet on the spearman myself. One thousand sesterces, five-to-one odds.'
'Five-to-one in whose favor?' Hermes wanted to know.
'In the praetor's of course. If my man wins, he pays me a thousand. If his wins, I pay him five thousand.'
'Why would you bet at five to one on a man you think will lose?' I asked him.
He smiled again. 'I am a sportsman. I like long odds.'
'Very well, then,' I said, curious to see where this would lead. 'Done.'
We settled down to watch the match. The men saluted and then squared off under the sharp eye of a trainer. Other trainers armed with staves stood by, ready to separate the combatants should they get carried away and actually try to kill each other, a not uncommon occurrence among these spirited men.
The spearman wore a leather sleeve covered with metal plates on his weapon arm and high greaves strapped to both legs. His helmet had wide cheek plates with throat protectors. To defend his body he had a round, deeply convex shield. To supplement his spear he carried a straight, slender sword behind his shield. This was a type of fighter rarely seen in Rome but popular in the south.
By contrast, the other man was all but unprotected. He wore a light helmet and had studded leather guards on both forearms, and that was the extent of his protective gear. His swords were legionary type: twenty inches long, straight, broad and double-edged.
They looked to me for the signal, and at my nod the trainer shouted, 'Begin!'
The two went at it immediately, with the two-sword man pressing in aggressively, forcing the other man back several steps and seeming, to me, to expose himself recklessly.
'A pair of double-edged
I'd thought of that myself, but I was more interested to see how my man was going to defend himself from that spear, which had reach. This became quickly apparent. When the spearman thrust, my fighter used his left- hand sword to block while simultaneously aiming a thrust at the other's face. And so it went through several exchanges; each time the spearman attacked, the swordsman used one weapon to defend, immediately counterattacking with the other.
This was what I had not anticipated. A soldier uses his sword to block only as a desperate measure. Clanging sword against sword damages both weapons. Swords are expensive, and you want to keep yours in good condition for the rest of the battle. Thus, soldiers depend on their shields and armor for defense, reserving the sword for attack against an enemy's vulnerable areas. Swords are intended to cut flesh, not wood or metal.
But, I now saw, if you had two swords, and were paying for neither of them, you could afford to let them get notched, blocking and parrying your enemy's weapons. You'd get new swords for the next fight. Plus, you could keep your enemy guessing which sword was going to be used for what.
Both men fought with exceptional spirit and skill, and we were all jumping to our feet and shouting like boys attending their first
Finally, the spearman overextended on a thrust, and the left-hand sword came down, shearing away the iron point. Immediately, the man dropped the useless shaft and snatched the reserve sword from behind his shield. But in that instant the right-hand sword darted in over the shield and scored a cut on the man's shoulder.
Immediately the men with staves jumped in and separated the two fighters while we cheered and applauded. The loser's wound bled freely but it was only a superficial cut, the best sort of wound for a gladiator: a real crowd-pleaser that doesn't incapacitate the man.
'It seems that you won, Praetor,' said the Greek. He reached into his robe and drew out a well-stuffed sack, which he handed to Hermes. 'Sport doesn't get better than that. I am Diogenes, perfume importer and partner of Manius Silva. Please accept these gifts for your esteemed lady.' He reached behind him and a slave placed a small wooden box in his hands. The Greek worked the latch and raised its lid. Within, nestled in fine wool felt, were perhaps twenty exquisite little glass vials filled with clear liquid, some colorless, others amber tinted. 'These are a modest sampling of the perfumes I import. I hope she will find them pleasing.'
I accepted the gift. 'You are a generous man and a good loser, Diogenes.'
He smiled again. 'I am a Greek. We are good at losing.'
He took his leave, and when he was gone Hermes said, 'He arrived with his losses already counted out and bagged. Decius Caecilius, I believe you've just been bribed.'
'No, I've just won five thousand sesterces. That Greek may think he's bribed me, but he's wrong.'
'Bribed to do what?' Hermes wondered.
'Doubtless we'll know soon enough,' I assured him.
That evening, Julia and the other women had a sniffing party. They made admiring sounds over the fine cedar box and the beautiful glass vials, and then they unstoppered them and began to dab scent on themselves, on each other, and on their slave girls. Each new perfume brought a babble of excitement. When all had been tried, the women gazed at the vials in wonder.
'Decius,' Julia said, 'these are some of the costliest scents in the world. This collection is worth far more than you won with your foolish bet.'
'No bet is foolish if it wins,' I told her. 'Maybe it was you the Greek wanted to bribe.'
'The vials are Babylonian glass, the very finest,' Antonia reported. 'Any time that Greek wants to bribe me, I'll be glad to accept.'
'I'm not certain it's the Greek doing the bribing,' I said.
'Manius Silva?' Julia said.
'He and Diogenes are partners,' I said. 'It would make sense if Silva wanted to bribe me, to send his foreign lackey and keep his own hands clean.'
'I notice,' Circe said, 'that no one thinks the Greek is just a foolish gambler who is princely about gift giving.'
When the laughter died down, Hermes enlightened her. 'I've been asking around. He's not just Greek, he's from Crete. Everyone knows that the Cretans are born liars and connivers. They couldn't be truthful under torture.'
'I've never liked them,' Antonia said. She had good reason. Her father was known as Antonius Creticus. But the Creticus was not an honorific voted by the Senate. It was bestowed in derision by the populace when he was defeated by the Cretans. In my opinion, any Roman who could get himself whipped by Cretans deserved worse than a funny name.
'What else did you learn?' Julia asked Hermes.
'Just that he's recently back from a purchasing expedition. It seems each year he makes a circuit of the big markets: Alexandria, Antioch, Cyprus, Berytus, and so forth. He spends about half the year at this, then he returns and spends the balance of the year here in Baiae.'
