2. The Grass Crown

by Colleen McCullough

  When the "sixteener" hove to in the harbor of the city of Cos on the island of Cos, King Mithridates left the captain to deal with his oar troubles, and himself went ashore in a sleek and well-rowed lighter. He proceeded immediately with his guard to the precinct of the god of healing, Asklepios, which lay on the outskirts of the city; so rapidly had he moved that his identity was unknown when he strode into the forecourt of the sanctuary and bellowed to see whoever was in charge a typical Mithridatic insult, as the King knew perfectly well the man in charge would be the high priest. "Who is this arrogant upstart?" demanded one priest of another within the King's hearing. "I am Mithridates of Pontus, and you are dead men." Thus it was that by the time the high priest arrived, two of his servitors lay headless between him and his visitor. A very subtle and intelligent man, the high priest had guessed who his unknown visitor was the moment he had been informed a big gold and purple ape was shouting for him. "Welcome to the precinct of Asklepios on Cos, King Mithridates," said the high priest calmly, displaying no fear. "I hear that's what you say to Romans." "I say it to everyone." "Not to Romans I had ordered killed." “Were you to come here yourself crying for asylum, it would be granted to you in like measure, King Mithridates. The God Asklepios plays no favorites, and all men need him at one time or another. A fact it is wise to remember. He is a god of life, not of death." "All right, consider them your punishment," said the King, pointing to the two dead priests. "A punishment two times greater than it ought to be." "Don't try my temper too far, high priest! Now show me your books and not the set you keep for the Roman governor.'' The Asklepeion of Cos was the greatest banking institution in the world apart from Egypt's state bank, and had grown to be so because of the careful acumen of a long succession of priestly administrators who had come into being under the aegis of the Ptolemies of Egypt Cos had once been an Egyptian possession. Therefore its development as an institute devoted to the care of money was a logical offshoot of the Egyptian banking system. At first the temple had been a more typical sanctuary, akin to those in other places. Consecrated to healing and to hygiene, the Asklepeion of Cos was the brainchild of some disciples of Hippocrates, and had originally practised the art of incubation the sleep-cure of dreams and their interpretation as still practised in the precincts at Epidaurus and Pergamum. But with the passing of the generations on Cos and its occupation by the Ptolemies of Egypt, money had replaced cures as the staple income of the temple, and the priests had become more soaked in things Egyptian than in things Greek. It was a huge precinct, its buildings scattered among parklands beautifully gardened gymnasium, agora, shops, baths, library, a priestly training college, facilities for scholars in residence, houses and slave quarters, a palace for the high priest, a necropolis on special ground, circles of subterranean sleep cubicles, a hospital, the great complex devoted to banking, and the temple to the god himself contained within a sacred grove of plane trees. His statue was neither chryselephantine nor gold, but made of white Parian marble by Praxiteles, and showed a bearded, rather Zeus-like deity standing leaning upon a tall staff around which a serpent was entwined. His right hand was extended and held a tablet, at his feet was a large and supine dog. The whole had been painted by Nicias in such a lifelike way that the statue seemed in the shadowy light to stir its garments from the minute and natural movements of its muscles; the god's eyes, a bright blue, sparkled with human and unmajestic joyousness. None of which enchanted the King, who put up with the grand tour of the sanctuary for just long enough to decide that the statue in the god's temple was a poor thing, not worth looting. Then he got down to the books, and informed the high priest what he intended to confiscate. All Roman gold on deposit, of course; some eight hundred talents of gold on long-term deposit from the Great Temple in Jerusalem, whose synod was canny enough to keep an emergency nest egg safe from the depredations of the Seleucids and the Ptolemies; and the three thousand talents of gold brought to the temple some fourteen years earlier by the old Queen Cleopatra of Egypt. "I see that the Queen of Egypt also gave three boys into your safekeeping," said Mithridates. But the high priest was more concerned about his gold, and said in tones he tried to keep cool rather than angry, "King Mithridates, we do not keep our gold here in its entirety we lend it!" "I haven't asked you for all of it," said the King, voice ugly. "I've asked you for yes, I make it five thousand talents of Roman gold, three thousand talents of Egyptian gold, and eight hundred talents of Jewish gold. A small percentage of what you carry on your books, high priest." "But to give you almost nine thousand talents of gold would leave us completely without reserves!" "How sad," said the King, getting up from the desk where he had been examining the temple records. "Hand it over, high priest, or watch your precinct reduced to dust before you bite the dust yourself. Now show me the three Egyptian boys." The high priest yielded to the inevitable. "You will have the gold, King Mithridates," he said colorlessly. "Shall I send the Egyptian princes to you here?" "No. I'd rather see them in daylight." Of course he was looking for his puppet Ptolemy; Mithridates waited impatiently until they were brought to him at the spot where he strolled beneath the shady boughs of pines and cedars. "Stand the three of them over there," said Mithridates, pointing to a place twenty feet away, "and you, high priest, come here to me." These directives fulfilled, the King asked, "Who is that?," indicating the oldest-looking of the trio, a young man wearing a floating dress. "That is the legitimate son of King Ptolemy Alexander of Egypt, and next heir to the throne." "Why is he here instead of in Alexandria?" "His grandmother, who brought him here, feared for his life. She made us promise we would keep him until he inherited the throne." "How old is he?" "Twenty-five." "Who was his mother?" The Egyptian influence at work in the Asklepeion of Cos showed in the awed tones the high priest used to answer; clearly he thought the House of Ptolemy far more august than the House of Mithridates. "His mother was the fourth Cleopatra." "The one who brought him here?" "No, that was the third Cleopatra, his grandmother. His mother was her daughter and the daughter of King Ptolemy Gross Belly." "Married to their younger son, Alexander?" "Later. She was married to the older son first, and had a daughter by him." "That makes more sense. The oldest daughter always marries the oldest son, as I hear it." "That is so, but not necessary constitutionally. The old Queen loathed both her oldest son and her oldest daughter. So she forced them to divorce. Young Cleopatra fled to Cyprus, where she married her younger brother and bore him this young man." ""What happened to her?" asked the King, keenly interested. "The old Queen forced Alexander to divorce her, so she fled to Syria, where she married Antiochus Cyzicenus, who was warring with his first cousin, Antiochus Grypus. When Cyzicenus was defeated, she was hacked to death on the altar of Apollo at Daphne. The author of her murder was her own sister, wife of Grypus." "Sounds just like my family," said Mithridates, grinning. The high priest did not think it a matter for humor, so went on as if he hadn't heard this remark. "The old Queen finally succeeded in ejecting her older son from Egypt, and brought Alexander, this young man's father, to rule with her as King. This young man went to Egypt with him. However, Alexander was afraid of his mother, and hated her. Perhaps she knew what, was in store for her, I don't know. But certainly she arrived in Cos fourteen years ago with several ships full of gold and three male grandchildren, asking us to care for them. Not long after she returned to Egypt, King Ptolemy Alexander murdered her." The high priest sighed; clearly he had liked old Queen Cleopatra, the third of that name. "Alexander then married his niece Berenice, the daughter of his older brother Soter and the young Cleopatra who had been wife to them both." "So King Ptolemy Alexander rules in Egypt with his niece Queen Berenice, this young man's aunt as well as his half sister?" "Alas, no! His subjects deposed him six months ago. He died in a sea battle trying to regain his throne." "Then this young man should be King in Egypt right now!" "No," said the high priest, trying to conceal his pleasure at confusing his unwelcome guest. "King Ptolemy Alexander's older brother, Soter, is still alive. When the people deposed Alexander, they
brought Ptolemy Soter back to rule instead. Which he is doing right at this moment, with his daughter, Berenice, as his queen though he cannot marry her, of course. The Ptolemies can only marry sisters, nieces, or cousins." "Didn't Soter have another wife after the old Queen forced him to divorce the young Cleopatra? Didn't he have more children?" "Yes, he did marry again. His youngest sister, Cleopatra Selene. They had two sons." "Yet you say this young man is the next heir?" "He is. When King Ptolemy Soter dies, he will inherit." "Well, well!" said Mithridates, rubbing his hands together in glee. "I see I will have to take him into my safekeeping, high priest! And make sure he marries one of my own daughters." "You may try," said the high priest dryly. "What do you mean, try?" "He doesn't like women and he won't have anything to do with women under any circumstances." Mithridates made a noise of slightly anguished irritation, shrugged. "No heirs from him, then! But I'll take him anyway." He pointed to the two others, mere youths. "These then I take it are the sons of Soter and his second sister-wife, Cleopatra Selene?" "No," said the high priest. "The sons of Soter and Cleopatra Selene were brought here by the old Queen, but they died not long afterward of the children's summer sickness. These boys are younger." "Then who have we got here?" cried Mithridates, exasperated. "These are the sons of Soter and his royal concubine, Princess Arsinoe of Nabataea. They were born in Syria during Soter's wars there against his mother, the old Queen, and his cousin Antiochus Grypus. When Soter left Syria, he didn't take these boys or their mother with him he left them in the care of his Syrian ally, his cousin Antiochus Cyzicenus. Thus they spent their early childhood in Syria. Then eight years ago Grypus was assassinated and Cyzicenus became sole King of Syria. Grypus's wife at that time was Cleopatra Selene he had married her as a replacement for his first wife, the middle Ptolemy sister, who died ahem! rather dreadfully." "How dreadfully did she die?" asked the King, keeping it all straight because his own family history was somewhat similar, if not endowed with the glamor always attached to the Ptolemies of Egypt. "She had murdered the young Cleopatra, as I have told you. On the altar of Apollo at Daphne. But Cyzicenus captured her and put her to death very, very slowly. A tooth at a time, so to speak." "So the youngest sister, Cleopatra Selene, didn't stay a widow long after the death of Grypus. She married Cyzicenus." "Correct, King Mithridates. However, she disliked these two boys. Something to do with her original marriage to Soter, whom she loathed. It was she who sent them here to us five years ago." "After the death of Cyzicenus, no doubt. She married his son. And still reigns as Queen Cleopatra Selene of Syria. Remarkable!" The high priest raised his brows. "I see you know the history of the House of Seleucus well enough." "A little. I'm related to it myself," said the King. "How old are these boys and what are their names?" "The elder of the two is properly Ptolemy Philadelphus, but we gave him the nickname Auletes because at the time he came to us he had a piping, flutelike voice. I am pleased to say that with maturity and our training, he no longer musically squeaks. He is now aged sixteen. The younger boy is fifteen. We just call him by his only name, Ptolemy. A nice lad, but indolent." The high priest sighed in the manner of a patient yet disappointed father. "It is his nature to be indolent, we fear." "So it's really these two younger boys who are the future of Egypt," said Mithridates thoughtfully. "The trouble is, they're bastards. I presume that means they can't inherit." "The bloodline is not absolutely pure, that is true," said the high priest, "yet if their cousin Alexander fails to reproduce himself as seems certain they are the only Ptolemies left. I have had a letter from their father, King Ptolemy Soter, asking that they be sent to him at once. Now he's King again but without a queen he can marry he wants to show them to his subjects, who have indicated that they are willing to accept these lads as the heirs." "He's out of luck," said Mithridates casually. "I'm taking them with me. That way, I'll be sure they marry daughters of mine. Their children will be my grandchildren." His voice changed. "What happened to their mother, Arsinoe?" "I don't know. I think Cleopatra Selene had her killed at the time she sent the sons to us here on Cos. The lads aren't sure, but they fear it," said the high priest. "What's Arsinoe's bloodline like? Is it good enough?" "Arsinoe was the oldest daughter of old King Aretas of Nabataea and his queen. It has always been Nabataean policy to send its most perfect daughter as a concubine to the King of Egypt. What more honorable alliance is there for one of the minor Semitic royal houses? The mother of old King Aretas was a Seleucid of the Syrian royal house. His wife Arsinoe's mother was a daughter of King Demetrias Nicanor of Syria and the Princess Rhodogune of the Parthians Seleucid again, with Arsacid for good measure. I would call Arsinoe's lineage quite splendid," said the high priest. "Oh, yes, I've got one of those among my wives!" said the King of Pontus heartily. "Nice little thing named Antiochis the daughter of Demetrias Nicanor and Rhodogune. I have three excellent sons from her, and two daughters. The girls will be perfect wives for these boys, perfect! Reconcentrates the bloodline nicely." "I think King Ptolemy Soter plans to marry Ptolemy Auletes to his half sister and aunt, Queen Berenice," said the high priest firmly. "As far as the Egyptians are concerned, that would reconcentrate the bloodline far more acceptably." "Too bad for the Egyptians," said Mithridates, and turned upon the high priest savagely. "Let no one forget that Ptolemy Soter of Egypt and I have the same Seleucid blood! My great-great-aunt Laodice married Antiochus the Great, and their daughter Laodice married my grandfather, the fourth Mithridates! That makes Soter my cousin, and my daughters Cleopatra Tryphaena and Berenice Nyssa also his cousins and cousins twice over to his sons by Arsinoe of Nabataea because their mother is the daughter of Demetrias Nicanor and Rhodogune, and so is Arsinoe's mother!" The King drew a deep breath. "You may write to King Ptolemy Soter and tell him that I will be looking after his sons. Tell Soter that since there are no women left of suitable age in the House of Ptolemy Berenice must be almost forty now his sons will marry the daughters of Mithridates of Pontus and Antiochis of Syria. And you may thank your god with the snake-staff that I need you to write that letter! Otherwise I'd have you killed, old man. I find you singularly lacking in respect." The King strode across to where the three young men were still standing, looking as much bewildered as apprehensive. "You're going to Pontus to live, young Ptolemies," he said to them curtly. "Now follow me, and make it quick!" Thus it was that when the mighty galley of King Mithridates put out to sea again, it shepherded several smaller ships and made sure they turned north of Cnidus on their way to Ephesus; aboard them were almost nine thousand talents of gold and the three heirs to the throne of Egypt. Cos had proven a profitable haven in time of need. And provided the King of Pontus with his puppet Ptolemy.