The Senate accepted the College of Pontiffs’ request, and shortly afterward, the meeting adjourned.
Outside on the Curia steps, I asked Marcus about Licinius’ comments on the prodigies.
“You know my father and I differ on this,” said Marcus. “I believe the sentiments of the gods are expressed in all that is around us, especially extreme events like those mentioned by Licinius. Yes, it’s true that sometimes the prodigies are exaggerated, and that the interpretations can be political, but the recording of these events is important, and they require well-considered responses. The sacrifices that Licinius requested were correct. They will give strength to the people and clearly demonstrate Rome’s collective respect for the gods.”
“But Licinius’ interpretations weren’t religious. They were political. After all that has gone on, the needless debate at Circus Flaminius and the selection of Sempronia to the Vestal Virgins, didn’t his pronouncement of concern for the consuls seem a little too pointed?”
“I’m sure that’s what my father is thinking. But I didn’t hear it quite that way. Licinius merely warned us that the consuls were in danger, and from what I’ve seen, watching the changes in my father, I believe that’s an accurate reading.”
CHAPTER 78
I went to the forum on the day Ennius had requested, carrying all the money I had—four quadrans, two asses, and a silver denarius—just in case I needed more leverage with the crazy street poet. I waited all afternoon and he never showed up. I would be leaving Rome soon. If there were anything more to know about my mother, I wanted to know it before I left. I went to the top of the Aventine Hill that evening and headed directly to the Community of Miracles.
Loud and obnoxious Ennius wasn’t hard to find. I grabbed him by his toga and stuck my face into his. “Why weren’t you in the forum at noon?”
He pushed me away and glared at me. “Because I don’t know anything.”
“Then let’s ask Caelius. Take me to him. I can pay more than you’ve asked for. I’ll give you an as.”
Ennius eyed me, thinking it over. “All right, but I want the as now, and it remains mine even if Caelius can’t help you.”
“Good enough.” I gave him the money. “Lead the way.”
I followed Ennius through the street party of poets and scoundrels to the back of the makeshift stage. Ennis pushed through the curtains into the shadowy chamber where the King of the Crooks held court. Instead of sitting in his wine cask throne, the heavyset Caelius was bent down awkwardly on one knee in a circle of shady-looking men drinking wine and throwing dice. Others, men and women, stood behind them watching. A rabid collection of scowling and suspicious faces looked up when we entered.
“Get out of here, Ennius, you fool,” snarled Caelius as he scooped a pair of dice off the ground. “Can’t you see we’re engaged in serious business?” Little piles of bronze quadrans or tiny personal treasures lay before each of the players. Three large stacks of coins stood in front of Caelius.
Ennius hesitated, but I prompted him with a jab in the back. “Yes, yes, I see that, your Majesty. I have just one question for you. If I may?”
“No, you may not. I’m busy. Both of you, out of here!”
The dice players all around him growled curses about the interruption, but I wasn’t leaving. I pushed past Ennius up close to the circle of gamblers and dropped my denarius into the center of their game. “Give me a chance with the dice, good King. If I lose, the denarius is yours. If I win, you entertain my question.”
Caelius didn’t seem to recognize me from my previous visit, but the silver coin got everyone’s attention. Caelius glared at me a moment, then looked down at my coin in the dirt. “Why shouldn’t I just keep your denarius and toss you out?”
“Because we’re in the Community of Miracles where everything is backwards. Here honest men steal and crooks have honor.”
This gave pause to Caelius and his collection of miscreants. Caelius pulled at the whiskers on his chin, eyeing my silver coin and thinking. He grinned. “Fine, what’s your game?”
“Three tries to roll a seven.”
The gamblers all looked to their leader. Caelius shook his head slowly from side to side. “That’s no better than a coin toss. I’ll give you two throws.” All around nodded their approval.
I wanted better odds but I was in no position to dicker. “Done,” I said, kneeling at the edge of the circle. “Give me the dice.”
The thrill of the game immediately quickened when Caelius handed me the more or less cubed bones. Amid cackling and laughter, several of those in the circle placed side bets, and coins were pushed all around.
I weighed the dice in my hand with no way of knowing their bias. I gave them a shake in my fist, then rolled them out across the dirt. The little group went silent as they bumped and bounced across the uneven ground, tumbling to a stop—a four and a one. Caelius grinned. “One more try, stranger. Let’s see what you’ve got.”
Around the circle coins were exchanged and new bets placed. I gathered up the dice and again shook them in my hand. An image of my mother centered in my mind, I gave my fist a kiss and let the dice fly. One took three bounces and abruptly stopped with a two facing upward. The other skipped across the ground, hit a pebble, went sideways, and finally came to rest on its edge, leaning against one of Caelius’ stacks of coins, favoring no side or number.
The little room went silent. Everyone around the circle stared at the cocked die, then turned as one to Caelius. I had no idea what he would say. Was my turn over? Or would I be granted another roll? Caelius didn’t hesitate.
“It’s not in my nature to be fair,” he said, adjusting his crown of cat skulls, “but this die is clearly tipped. Roll it again, my friend.” He picked up the die and handed it to me. “You need a five.”
Of course this only added to the delight of those around the circle. The buzzing and chattering doubled as another round of side bets went down.
Ennius surprised me by bending down behind me and whispering, “I’m with you, Timon. Let’s see that five.”
I squeezed the cubed bone in my fist and pressed it to my lips. I closed my eyes just long enough to picture my mother, then gave the die a firm roll into the center of the circle. It tumbled and turned, then went into a spin. Everyone leaned into the circle, eyes wide open, watching the bone balanced on one corner, twirling like a top, wavering one way then the other. I’m sure not one breath was taken as everyone there hung on the moment, Ennius gripping my shoulders, waiting for the spinning to end.
When at last the die tumbled to a stop, five black dots showed on the uppermost side. Amid a chorus of groans and cheers, Caelius looked at me and nodded. “What is your question, young man?”
“I’m looking for a woman,” I said, picking up my silver coin. “Her name is Arathia Arathenus. Ennius said she once frequented your community. Can anyone tell me where she might be? Arathia is my mother.”
My question gained as much attention as my entry into the dice game. Caelius lifted his head in thought. I could hear hushed talk among the others. Before Caelius could answer, a woman came forward out of the shadows. She was the one who had whispered to Caelius during my first visit that the lenses were in the possession of a friend. “I know Arathia,” she said. “She plays the lyre and sings so beautifully she can stop all else around her. It’s been a year since I’ve seen her. She was accompanied by a woman by the name of Lucretia.”
“Yes,” I gasped, “that was one of our slaves in Croton. She was kidnapped along with my mother. Do you know where they are now?”
“It’s anyone’s guess, lad. When I saw them last, they were traveling with a group of pickers, following armies in the south. Your mother sang to entertain the soldiers, trying to earn money so that she might travel in the winter to find you.”
“Will she return to following the armies?”
“I don’t know. She hasn’t found you yet, so it’s possible she’s holed up somewhere in the south, waiting f
or the war to resume.”
I returned to the Claudian residence in Rome that night. I was hopeful, but well aware that finding my mother on the road would be more difficult than finding her in Rome. I would be traveling with Marcellus and his two legions in the months to come. I would be on the lookout for these groups of itinerant pickers, of which there were as many as there were armies, and see what I might learn from them about my mother.
CHAPTER 79
Three days later the Senate made the troop assignments. Twenty-one legions, the same number as the year before, were deployed across the Mediterranean from Greece to Spain with six placed in southern Italy. Fabius had not yet returned from Tarentum, so Marcellus took the lead in establishing a strategy for the summer. As he had proposed in his statement at Circus Flaminius, the central focus of the campaign would be aggressively targeting Hannibal’s army.
Marcellus would return to Venusia and command the same two legions he’d had the last two campaigns. Crispinus would command Fulvius’ two legions, currently in Lucania. The two consuls would work in concert with the intention of forcing Hannibal into battle against their combined forces.
Claudius Flaminius, a relative of Marcellus’, would take over Fabius’ two legions in Tarentum, meaning for the first time since the beginning of the war, Fabius, now nearly eighty, would not have a command.
Gaius Fulvius Flaccus, brother of Gnaeus and Quintus, was given the legion in Capua. Gaius Hostilius Tubulus would take command of Calpurnius’ two legions in Etruria. Venturius Philo would remain in northern Italy with his two legions to contain the Gauls and prepare for the arrival of Hasdrubal. Sextus Julius Caesar was given the army of Cannae survivors in Sicily. Publius Sulpicius Galba would remain in Greece with his two legions to keep Philip of Macedon in check, and two legions would be garrisoned in Rome.
The deployment of the navy received special attention due to reports coming from Africa saying Carthage was preparing a fleet of two hundred ships to raid the shores of Italy and Sicily. Laevinus was given command of the southern fleet, one hundred ships operating out of Syracuse. Publius Licinius Varus was ordered to refit thirty warships and build twenty new ones to guard the port of Ostia and the west coast of Italy. Gaius Aurunculeius, who had two legions and eighty warships in Sardinia, would remain there and receive fifty more ships from Scipio, who would stay in Spain with his two legions, as would Marcus Junius Silanus with his two legions.
This represented a tremendous military expenditure. When the matching allied troops were included, Rome would have two hundred and ten thousand men on combat duty—easily twice the number that would be assembled by the Carthaginians. Before the war with Hannibal, Rome had never commissioned more than ten legions. The dynamics of the war with Hannibal were steadily transforming Rome from an Italian city-state into a world power—whether she wanted to be or not.
While the other generals prepared for their campaigns, Marcellus went to Arretium with Calpurnius Piso to address the issue of colonial revolt. Marcus remained in Rome and subsequently left for Venusia with the Eighteenth legion. Because Marcellus wanted me to extend my maps to the Po Valley, I accompanied him on the trip north. Better maps of the north end of the peninsula would be of immeasurable value if and when Hasdrubal arrived.
We traveled north on the Appian Way, escorted by one hundred cavalry and Marcellus’ twelve lictors. Marcellus rode his white war horse. I rode Balius. The entire trip took two weeks. I was given opportunities to explore the countryside north of Arretium with three scouts. I certainly didn’t cover the peninsula east to west, but using other maps, and what I could measure and see, I made significant improvements in the accuracy and detail of Rome’s existing maps of the region.
I had always enjoyed the geometry for itself. Surely I had been influenced by my father and during my time with Archimedes, but because of the maps, I had begun to believe in the application of the forms and the figures to practical problems. Three years after the promise I had made to Archimedes, I had to wonder why it was so important to keep the compound lenses a secret. And yet I did. Yes, I had shown Marcus and several of the soldiers the magnifying glass, and Troglius had even guessed at a greater purpose. But the real power of the lenses was more than invading a woman’s privacy from a distance, it was looking into the sky, viewing the surface of the moon or the planet Jupiter or the vast three-dimensionality of the star-filled heavens. That in itself was heart-stopping, and profound to a degree that it could change the way we viewed the world and its place in a universe much vaster than anyone believed or could understand. Perhaps Archimedes was right; people weren’t quite ready for that.
Marcellus spoke to the Arretium city council. He told them they had nothing to fear. Four Roman legions would be in northern Italy all summer, and if Hasdrubal should arrive, he would bring his two legions to Arretium for added security. Marcellus had no intention of doing that unless he had already defeated Hannibal, but it did ease tensions for the time being. The region would continue to be a source of trouble for the next two years, all in anticipation of the arrival of Hasdrubal.
We stayed in Arretium only three days. We picked up our pace on the return to Rome. Marcellus was eager to complete his consular duties and go south to Venusia. Though less than one hundred and twenty men, we made camp each night just as any Roman army would. Two legions or a single cohort, the camp layout remained the same, only smaller.
Marcellus invited me to have dinner with him one night. He cooked the same wheat gruel and flat bread that the soldiers lived on. We ate at the campfire in front of his tent.
After the meal, we had a cup of wine. We were in the hills and the stars covered the sky as though a twinkling mist. The moon wasn’t full, but was bright enough to see the texture of its surface.
“Timon,” said Marcellus, breaking a long silence. “The power of the numbers and the geometry are clearly evident in your maps. And yet the methods you employ are so far from my imagination, I don’t even know how to think about them. I witnessed Archimedes’ machines in Syracuse. I saw them lift a ship entirely out of the water using compound pulleys and counterweights. But our engineers can’t figure out the system these machines are built upon. We brought one of his catapults back to Rome to study. No matter how the craftsmen apply themselves to copying the original, they can’t get it right. Why is that?”
“They can’t match the precision. That’s the real secret of the science. When the machines are built just right, and engineered perfectly, as only Archimedes was capable, the results are many times more powerful than something that’s merely an approximation.”
Marcellus thought about this, then asked, “Where is this science leading us? What will war be like generations from now? It certainly won’t be men with gladii and bucklers. I saw those focusing mirrors. They speak of something more—things I can’t possibly foresee. What’s next? What did Archimedes say about that?”
“He spoke of machines that could fly. Carriages without horses. Machines to lessen the burden of work for every man—that might even replace the need for slaves. But he also spoke of untold power—power so vast that he worried if humankind were ready for it. He feared this so much he wanted to give it all up, to keep the numbers and geometry in his head and not apply them to the ‘vulgar needs of men,’ as he or Plato might have said.”
Marcellus shook his head. “I’m not sure I want such a future either. It’s beyond my comprehension. It seems like sorcery. Perhaps that’s why many choose to believe in the gods.”
I thought of the lenses in the pouch around my neck. What if I were to show Marcellus the craters of the moon or the moons of Jupiter? That might give him an idea of what lay ahead! And yet, wasn’t that another reason to keep them secret? They weren’t just some device that helped you see. They were something more suggestive. They provided a window into the future of science, a future far more profound than could be revealed in the actions of birds or the reading of entrails.
Marcellus took a sip of his w
ine. “How is progress on your map of Italy?”
“It’s going well, sir. This trip has been incredibly helpful.”
“Of course you know we anticipate the arrival of Hasdrubal this summer. It’s a difficult passage through the mountains. He might never make it. In any case, the time is ripe. This spring will be our best chance to finally defeat Hannibal. We’ll chase him with two armies and force him into battle. Accurate maps will be of tremendous value.”
“Yes, sir.”
Marcellus paused momentarily to look up at the moon. “Timon, you’ve seen all that has occurred in the last two campaigns. You’ve been in every briefing. You’ve heard my generals’ complaints. You’ve sat around the campfire with my men night after night, before battle and after. I know my son has come to believe that I’m obsessed, that I’m chasing destiny instead of operating like a pragmatic general.” He turned his eyes to mine. “What do you think? Am I wrong? Am I obsessed? What do you see?”
We had touched on this once before, but I never expected him to ask me this question so directly. But I heard it in his voice. He wasn’t asking me as a military adviser. He was asking me as someone who knew his son, as someone he had accepted into his family. He was asking at a personal level.
“I’ve seen two things. sir. I’ve seen a general who has exercised extreme caution while pursuing a remarkably clever adversary. And I’ve seen a general who is completely focused on his objective, going about it in the only way possible—with the tenacity of obsession. In my opinion, there is no better man in Rome to do what you propose. If Marcus is concerned, it’s because the enemy you’ve chosen as your own is so dangerous. He worries about you as any son would worry about his father.”
The Death of Marcellus Page 39
