by Ian Miller
"They cannot hurt me," Philo smiled. "Virtue is sufficient for happiness, and if they think ill of me, it is simply through their ignorance of what is good."
"Yes, but some hold Romans to blame for these riots, and to be fair, I believe Flaccus is the cause."
"But you are not. Besides this offer of help, I gather you recently saved a slave from a beating, and beat the owner?"
"And the Romans here seem to shun me for that," Gaius shrugged, then added quickly, "Not that I am worried in the slightest about that."
"Then at least you share some of my philosophy," Philo smiled. "Perhaps you would like to talk about philosophy some time?"
"Next time you see me at the library," Gaius smiled.
* * *
A small procession of Jews turned up to one of Gaius' warehouses. The carefully wrapped parcels and boxes were handed to one of four Jews who identified the owners by placing strange writing on the items, which were then stored. Proceedings had been going on for less than an hour when the sounds of a mob were heard.
When the first of the mob came around the corner, Gaius gave the signal. About thirty volunteers from the local legion, encouraged to volunteer by a couple of denarii each, stepped forward, locked shields, and drew their gladii. Gaius stepped forwards.
"This property," he said flatly, "belongs to the Claudians, and these soldiers will protect it. Attack the soldiers and you mutiny against Rome." He paused, then continued, "Last time something like this happened, Gaius Caesar upheld my recommendation to crucify all participants." He stared impassively at the crowd. "Go home," he ordered, "or sooner or later you will be crucified."
The mob stared at Gaius. A young man with no position! Except that he came from an important family. Kill him, and you had better be right. If he were right, the power of Rome would be felt, and they knew it. Through Tiberius, the Claudians ran Rome. With Gaius Caesar, who knew, but he was, more or less, the same family. Nobody knew what Gaius Caesar stood for, but if Flaccus was obeying Caesar's orders, what was this young man doing? And if Flaccus was not obeying Caesar's orders, mass crucifixions could well be ordered.
"Ask yourself," Gaius said evenly, as if reading their minds, "if Caesar wanted to persecute Jews, he would not ask you to do it. He would send in his legions."
A murmur grew within the crowd. That point was correct. Even though everyone knew Flaccus was behind these anti-Jewish riots, if Caesar had ordered them, the legions would be doing more than nothing, and these soldiers would not be where they were. Gradually the crowd lost their enthusiasm, and after a few moments of indecision, some began to peel away from the rear. Before long the crowd had dissipated.
* * *
"If you don't mind my saying so," Timothy said later, "what you did will piss off Flaccus, and secondly, when Gaius Caesar hears you've been invoking his name . . ."
"You're correct on that last one," Gaius nodded. "I must send a further message to the Princeps."
"Is that wise?" Timothy asked. "Are you sure Caesar will be worried about a Prefect who wants his subjects to worship Caesar? From what I've heard of his arrogance . . ."
"We'll leave that bit out," Gaius nodded. "I'll tell him that Flaccus is hiding behind Caesar's name to pillage valuables and extort Roman subjects for his personal gain."
"Yes, that might do some good," Timothy nodded.
"Imagine what Caesar will think when I point out that Flaccus is not returning all the money to the Roman coffers."
"Flaccus will deny that," Timothy warned.
"Perhaps, but I'll include a list of what the Jews allege they've lost. It'll probably be inflated, and I doubt Flaccus will have sent much to Rome."
"So you're appealing to Caesar's greed? So much for Roman virtue!"
"In my view," Gaius replied, "Gaius Caesar will act for four reasons. The first one is because there're riots, and it's right to do so. The thought of Flaccus stealing money won't help, he has no love for the man who prosecuted his mother, and finally . . ."
"Finally?"
"Flaccus' hiding behind Caesar's name will really piss him off in a big way, and when Little Boots is annoyed, he's a bit like a spoilt child squashing roaches."
"That's an encouraging assessment," Timothy said doubtfully.
"There's no doubt that Little Boots is no Augustus," Gaius shrugged, "but I don't think he's a fool either."
* * *
Gaius was unsure what response to expect from Flaccus. Hiring soldiers to protect his warehouses from rioters would hardly warrant criticism, but hiring soldiers to prevent Flaccus' orders being carried out should. Gaius was gambling that Flaccus would have to prosecute Gaius in Rome, and there Flaccus might have problems explaining why he was permitting riots to occur in the first place. In the event, Flaccus ignored him, and directed his actions at the Jews. Thirty-eight members of the Jewish Senate were publicly scourged, then Flaccus ordered a number of Jewesses from well-known families to eat pork in public after which the Jews were to remain in their ghetto. They did, and apart from the occasional Jew-baiting and looting, the Jewish sector of Alexandria became strangely quiet.
Gaius met Philo more than once, but since Philo seemed to be more interested in religion than anything else, Gaius found the conversations to be little better than an entertainment until at one point, Philo mentioned that God had no resemblance to people, and the concept of a God that looked like a person was simply the highest form of hubris. He had only finished saying this, when he realized that perhaps this was the wrong thing to say to a Roman.
"It's all right," Gaius smiled. "I have always considered that the Gods that looked like people were simply figments of people's imagination." It was then that he gave an inwards start. He had just denied Athene! The prophecy!
"You suddenly fear divine retribution?" Philo asked, having noticed the start.
"No," Gaius said slowly. "I just . . ."
"Tell me. Maybe I can help."
"Some time ago, I foresaw that I would deny a Goddess," Gaius replied, not entirely truthfully. "It seems to have happened."
"I don't think you're quite telling me the truth," Philo remarked, "but do not worry. Perhaps God has given you an insight of your future."
"Perhaps," Gaius said. "Tell me then," he said, determined to change the subject, "what do you think a God is if not looking like us?"
"There is only one God," Philo replied, "but He is not a person, or even anything like a person. God is the universe itself, and its very soul." He smiled at the baffled look on Gaius' face, and added, "Your purpose in life should be the pursuit of virtue." As Philo began to explain the hierarchy of virtues, Gaius' mind wandered. Philo might think that God was the Universe, but Athene was definitely a woman. The question was, if she were not a Goddess, what was she?
* * *
The small engine was made, and Gaius fired it up. He placed it on a high stone table, and fitted a string to the axle of the wheel turned by the steam. He knew he had to be careful, and he made sure he had a brick wall between himself and the machine once the fire got going.
To his delight, the wheel turned, and it could lift a small object, although with a heavier object the steam just bypassed the paddles. Gaius increased the amount of fire and placed an additional weight on the relief valve. The machine would now pick up a heavier load before failing, although the gain was not especially impressive. However, he found that with lower gearing, the weight lifted was significantly greater. The device only worked properly when the paddle was going rapidly.
The next problem was to fix a pipe to the boiler, so it would turn the wheel a small distance from the boiler. To his surprise, the craftsman did not find that difficult. He did something like soldering, except that he used something like bronze, and higher temperatures. He also joined two pipes together, using a method he called sweating. One pipe was heated furiously, then it was forced over the top of the other, and when they were cold, the joint seemed quite tight.
Suddenly Gaius felt encourag
ed. Yes, there were several problems to solve, but a start had been made. This was possible!
It was shortly after this that he met Philo for the last time. Philo said he was planning a visit to Rome, to plead with Caesar, and he asked for any advice he could get. Gaius gave him Claudius' name, and said he would write a letter of introduction. When he arrived, he should request to see Claudius' secretary, and if Claudius agreed to Gaius' letter, Claudius would arrange the meeting. Philo seemed quite grateful for the introduction.
Chapter 26
At last! A message from the Princeps. While Gaius hoped for a military appointment and feared retribution for his involvement with the Jewish issue, instead, the letter contained orders that were neither specific nor clear as to all the desired outcomes and could end his career if he miss-guessed. Still, he had lit the fuse, and there was no alternative but to follow through. He stared at Centurion Bassus from the Praetorian Guard, and asked, "You know what this contains?"
"Yes, sir."
Sir? He addresses me as a superior?
"The message says, execute these orders immediately. Is there any reason not to do so now?"
"No sir."
"Then we shall commence when you have adequate troops ready."
The Centurion nodded with approval. These senatorial upstarts had two problems. The first was an inability to get off their arses. The second was to rush into something without adequate thought. Maybe the thinking here had been a little short, but the gladii of a dozen well-trained soldiers would make up for most difficulties.
* * *
Gaius pushed aside the two servants, pushed open the door to the triclinium and stormed in. Flaccus was stuffing chicken into his mouth with one hand and fondling a woman's breasts with the other. He dropped the chicken.
"What the . . ." he yelled, then gathering his wits, he yelled, "Guards!" He stared evilly at Gaius and then added, "You piss-head! You'll pay for this."
Gaius ignored him and produced his message, which he held up and began reading: "By the order of the Senate of the People of Rome, and of Gaius Julius Caesar Augustus, Princeps, you, Gaius Claudius Scaevola will detain Aulus Avillius Flaccus, previously Governor of Egypt, escort the said Flaccus to the ship provided so that the said Flaccus may be returned to Rome, then account and return all confiscated property. These orders are to be carried out immediately. G."
"What?" Flaccus' face began in arrogance, turned to disbelief, then fear swept across it.
"I am ordered to execute the orders immediately," Gaius shrugged. "I suggest, Governor, that you should leave with dignity, but if necessary, you will be dragged. Please don't call for help. That would be inciting mutiny, which would cause unnecessary suffering for your servants."
"So, you little shit! I'll . . ."
"I presume you are not implying a lack of wisdom and integrity on the part of the Princeps?" Gaius shrugged.
Flaccus did not reply. Instead he suggested, "Couldn't you give me a day? I'll give you gold."
"There was a large golden Jewish chalice in the Temple," Gaius said slowly and softly. "About this big."
"It's yours!"
"Which implies you've got it," Gaius said coldly. "Case proved. On your feet!"
"Why you . . ." Flaccus turned to grab something, presumably a weapon.
Gaius leaped across the space and thrust his gladius so that its point stopped just before Flaccus' neck. Flaccus stared at it, his right hand now holding a dagger. Then suddenly all resistance faded. He dropped the dagger. In the doorway the Centurion could hardly stifle a grin of surprise.
The woman stared at Gaius fearfully, while she held a sheet over her clearly naked body.
"Up!" Gaius said to Flaccus. "Place the dagger on the table."
Flaccus did, dragging the sheet with him. The woman tried to hide her nakedness, fearful that it would lead to rape.
"Put on a cloak and march towards the door," Gaius ordered Flaccus. He turned towards the woman. "Don't worry. Just stay put. When we're gone, eat what you like, then leave, but don't steal anything. You will be checked when you leave." He turned back to Flaccus, and said quietly, "Give me your word you will obey, and we can march to the harbour with the dignity a Roman of your status deserves."
"I shall not try to escape," Flaccus promised.
"Then let us get going," Gaius said, as he sheathed his gladius. "I shall be right behind you, in accord with your station."
In the event, Flaccus gave no trouble. He was unarmed, Gaius was younger and fitter, and there was the Praetorian escort. Superficially, it looked as if he was leaving, and had an escort for his personal protection. He and the escort boarded the boat, which would sail when Gaius' account of the confiscated property was prepared.
The next morning, Gaius ordered staff to go through Flaccus' possessions, and all properties owned by Flaccus. Records of who had contacted mob leaders were obtained, and through the Centurion, soldiers from the local legions were dispatched to search their properties. In the ordinary course of events there may have been little enthusiasm for following these orders, but with direct orders from the Princeps, and with a Praetorian Centurion overseeing proceedings, the orders were followed promptly.
A huge collection of Jewish property was assembled.
Gaius then visited the Temple and addressed the priests. He told them of the recovered goods, and asked their assistance to ensure that belongings were returned to their rightful owners. The priests promised that all would be reminded of the consequences of false claims, and that they would record what went where. Thousands of Jews reported to the warehouses to receive their property. Some never found their treasures, but many others thanked Gaius profusely.
It was at the end, when Gaius was supervising the cleaning up of his largest warehouse, that the older priest approached him.
"You have my thanks," he said. "Most in your position would have kept some of the gold for himself."
"I'm not a thief," Gaius smiled.
"You're better than that," the priest nodded. "You could have turned your back and ignored our plight. You are a man of honour. Can we thank you?"
"If any of your people wanted to purchase Roman made wine," Gaius added, "my family has vineyards nearby."
The priest nodded, and said, "I shall mention that. In the meantime, I have something else for you." He handed Gaius a sheet with strange writing on it.
"What's this?" Gaius asked curiously.
"It says, you are an honourable man," the priest said. "If you are ever in Jewish territory and you need help, show this to a Jew who can read."
"Thank you very much," Gaius nodded appreciatively. "I value that."
It was later that day that Gaius received a second message, this time from the Centurion.
"I was ordered to give you this if certain outcomes were reached," Bassus smiled.
Gaius opened the message bearing the seal of the Princeps and his heart soared.
"Gaius Claudius Scaevola, for acting for Rome and declining personal benefit, by the orders of Gaius Julius Caesar Augustus, Princeps, and of the Senate of the People of Rome, you are to proceed to Damascus and report to Lucius Vitellius, Governor of Syria, to be placed in Legio XII, Fulminata, as Tribunus Laticlavius."
"You are pleased, sir?" the Centurion asked.
"It's everything I wanted!" Gaius almost yelled with pride. Then he looked at the Centurion and asked, "You know what this is?"
"Yes, sir." the Centurion nodded. "I have orders too, to arrange an escort for your journey."
"Then we'd better get ourselves organized, hadn't we?"
"Yes sir," the Centurion replied. He was ready to march now, the troops that he would order to march would be ready as soon as supplies were arranged, or else, but the Tribune could set out exactly when he wanted to. It was good that he wanted to set out quickly.
Gaius was puzzled, for this was the outcome predicted by Athene, including the matter of the chalice, which up until now he had forgotten. How did she know thi
s would happen? Was she really a Goddess? Perhaps he should use logic. Assume she knew this would happen, either she could predict the future, or . . . Or what? If she could predict the future, then the future had to be set, but if the future was set, why did she need him? Why the prophecy, for if the future was set, it would happen, prophecy or no prophecy? Yet he was convinced Athene needed him; she had seemed desperate. But if the future was not set, how could she predict it? Perhaps she was not a goddess and it was the 'or what?' that was critical. But what was she, and what was the 'or what?'
Chapter 27
Damascus, embedded deeply within such ancient and battle-scarred lands, claimed to be a centre of stable civilization. It was certainly a centre of power, because it was also the headquarters of legions from the most powerful empire in the world. Damascus also claimed to be the oldest city in the world. It may well have been, and it could certainly lay a claim to being the most conquered city in the world. Very few powers had not conquered it, yet it continued on, immune to conquerors, of which Rome was the latest. Rome was going to make a difference, or so Rome thought, and with commendable energy, massive rebuilding was going on. But it made no difference to the essence of Damascus.
A different, and perhaps better description, Gaius thought, was that Damascus was a flea-ridden centre of thuggery, theft, vice, and all that was bad when enough people were brought together in the vicinity of wealth. A thin veneer of civilization covered the richer upper-class areas, in that safety was ensured by the power of the legions, but the upper-class inhabitants, on the whole, appeared to be merely the more successful of the criminals.
Damascus was also a centre for trade, and to some extent this trade was an attraction for the thieves. To the north were the fertile lands, which stretched from Phoenicia across to the headwaters of the Euphrates, and thence down to the ancient lands of Babylon. The west contained the great cedar forests most of the way to the Mediterranean coast, while the land to the east and south-east was harsh desert, apart from the occasional oasis. Damascus was on the eastern side of quite high mountains and their shade meant the rainfall was slight, but the Barada River supplied plentiful water.
