The Eagle and the Dragon, a Novel of Rome and China

by Lewis F. McIntyre

“As do I. Such time as we get together again.”

  To his great relief, Ibrahim accepted his departure, and Antonius affected a stagger as he rolled unsteadily to the door.

  “Would you like someone to accompany you? The back streets of Alexandria can be dangerous for the unwary stranger.”

  “Uh, no, thanks. I’m a rough, tough centurion, built like a bull. I’ll be fine.”

  As Antonius left, Ibrahim returned to his seat scowling. He snapped his fingers at the weasel who had first accosted Antonius and said, in Aramaic, “Yakov! Go thou and be as a shadow to yonder man. If he not depart to III Cyrenaica’s encampment...” he drew his finger beneath his bearded throat.

  “So be it, master.” Yakov rose and slipped out the door.

  “What makest thou of that man?” whispered the other man about the table, hiding his face in his brown cowl.

  “I do not yet know. He was not drunk, therefore he is a liar. Yet some parts of his story may be true. And if parts are true, then perhaps the part about the report also. What fate can place that report in my hands?”

  “You shall have it, the gods willing!”

  CHAPTER 4: THE LIBRARY

  The Library was a massive four-story building two blocks long by four wide, finished in exquisite white marble with a broad granite stairway leading up to a tall colonnade. A temple of the soul of man, thought Gaius, as he walked up the steps to enter into its cool interior, brightly lit by windows high in the roof.

  Gaius halted just inside the doors and looked around in awe. Ten huge well-lit rooms, each framed by green marble columns, divided the library, each room dedicated to a specific discipline of learning carved into the massive white marble sill over its entrance: geometry, logic, mathematics, astronomy, history, rhetoric, grammar, physics, mechanics, and medicine. Within each room, he could see stack after stack of pigeon-holes lining each wall from floor to ceiling, each pigeon hole containing a single scroll, its title dangling on a string. Dozens of people sat at tables, quietly reading, writing, or taking notes on wax tablets.

  "Can I help you, sir?" asked an elderly man in Greek. He was balding, gray of hair and beard, clad in a Greek-style tunic.

  "Yes, you certainly may. I was hoping to gain some information here on a specific topic, but the resources here are so vast... I am overwhelmed," said Gaius, his gaze leaping from shelf to shelf holding the huge amount of information just in the immediate area.

  "Yes, most people are, the first time.” The old man chuckled. "I am Demaratus of Cos, and I serve as a guide. What information do you seek?"

  A moment of caution crossed Gaius' mind. Antonius was right; it would not be wise to reveal too much of his mission here. "I am seeking information on lands to the east. A partner of mine seeks to invest in the silk trade."

  "Ah, yes. Silk is becoming popular now. What would you like to know?"

  "Ah, where does it come from? How does it get here, and how is it made?” The answer to these should lead to the Hanae, but without asking about them specifically. And silk was extremely popular and of widespread commercial investment interest.

  "Please step this way." The old man's Greek had the inflection only a native speaker could offer.

  Demeratos led him to the room dedicated to history. “I will be a few minutes. Please have a seat there by the window." He gestured toward an empty desk.

  Gaius took a seat at a table, next to some people on an adjoining table arguing occasionally over the meaning of a word or phrase written on a stone tablet in tiny chicken-track script somehow impressed into it. Eavesdropping, he learned they were translating an alien script, written in a long-dead language.

  Gaius idly picked up a scroll on the table, the “Periplus of the Erythraean Ocean.” Greek for ‘Sailing Instructions for the Indian Ocean.’ Hmm, could be worth looking at. The document contained information on dozens of ports around the sea, the quality of their anchorages, land marks, tides and currents. More information described the kings of each port, types of currency used, trade goods, and reliability and nature of the inhabitants. Skip the nautical and mercantile stuff.

  The scroll had a map, similar to the one in Maximus' tent. On the point of the southern coast of Arabia was Arabia Felix, in Greek as Eudaemon Arabia, with a line connecting it to India. The scroll said that ships went from Arabia Felix to India from June to September, with the Hippalic wind, blowing from the southwest. Six months later, this wind reversed, allowing a return trip.

  There was little information beyond India. There were trading centers beyond there, but it seemed necessary to transship in India to get to them. And it did mention the seres, another name for the Hanaeans, but didn’t say much about them. But this scroll indicates that a lot of people know their way around the Indian Ocean, the western part, anyway. Latin won’t be common there, maybe not even Greek. What do we do about money? The scroll says they take gold or silver, but do they recognize Roman or Greek coins? Will they argue about how much it is worth? Hmm… Hopefully, my cousin has thought of these things as well.

  Demaratus returned with a handful of scrolls. "Oh I see you found the missing scroll. It seems that someone recently has been inquiring about many of the same topics, as these scrolls, too, were scattered about on three reading tables. Perhaps your investment partner has some competition?"

  "Perhaps. Let us see," answered Gaius.

  Demaratus departed, leaving him to read. The first scroll did in fact mention the Hanae and their role in producing silk. Not one but two trade routes connected the land of the Hanae to the Roman world. One was by sea, by the ports in the Periplus. The second, which he knew slightly from his time in Syria, was overland, thousands of miles that wound north of India starting in Parthia. Not a good route for a Roman soldier who wanted to keep his head attached to his shoulders! But he had the name of the capital of Hanae: the eastern terminus of the Silk Road, Changanos.

  But who else wanted the same information?

  CHAPTER 5: A SIMPLE COUNTRY TAVERN

  Antonius cleared the Bull and Dove as rapidly as possible. The cool evening air touched his face, which felt as though it were aflame. He was not as concerned with where he was going so much as he was with placing distance between himself and the Bull and the Dove. He was almost certain that he would be followed, and he was not going to return down Astarte Street. It was too easy to wind up dead there. Especially if someone wanted him dead. Like Ibrahim.

  You fool! You stupid fool! Why didn’t you talk this over with Gaius Lucullus before you charged out into the stews of Alexandria? Antonius berated himself savagely. A few hundred miles south of here, Roman power would begin to fade. Only their wits would keep them alive, and if his wits today were any example, they were already doomed.

  It was nearly dark now, and he did not know exactly where he was. Off to his left, he caught the glare of the Pharos lighthouse. Facing that way would be north; going away from that should eventually bring him to the east-west Canopic Way, the Temple of Poseidon and all the other important buildings, along with the livery which held his horse. Ambush would be difficult on that thoroughfare, especially if he maintained a brisk pace to stay ahead of anyone following.

  The February evening cooled off quickly. By the time Antonius reached the Canopic Way, his tunic, damp from perspiration, was chilling rapidly against his skin. The main avenue was well-lit with lamps every few hundred feet, making the livery easy to find.

  A block behind, the thin weasel Yakov followed him unobtrusively in the flickering shadows.

  At the livery, Antonius retrieved his horse. From the saddlebag he rummaged out a clean tunic and his faded old sagum, his red wool army cloak that was so good at keeping out the chill. He rinsed his body with water from a bucket, dashing cold water on his face to ease the throbbing in his head from the cheap wine. He changed into the fresh tunic, wrapped himself in the sagum and warmed himself by the evening fire, waiting. As the warmth began to seep into his chilled limbs, the door burst open, and in came Gaius Luc
ullus.

  “Sir! I...” Antonius stammered into silence, while his heart skipped several beats. Could he have any idea?

  “Very well, my good Antonius,” he said with a smile, “I hope you had as interesting time as I did.” He turned to the servant running the livery and handed him a handful of sesterces. “Here’s for my gray, over there. And for this poor bedraggled Greek, his animal also.” The servant accepted the coins with a nod.

  “I be thankin’ yer kindly.”

  “So did your travel arrangements go well?”

  “I’ll be tellin’ yer about it on ter way back. Some important things has happened. T’were best we be on our way though,” he said, as he swung himself into the saddle of his roan.

  “As well, then. Let us be off. We shall dine at Aulus’ villa.”

  “I am hardly well dressed for a villa. Let me go on ter the camp, so as ter not be an embarrassment fer yer.”

  “Aulus’ villa is hardly a well-dressed place. It is a simple traveler’s inn, but with excellent food by repute.” Gaius Lucullus wrapped his own sagum around his shoulder and swung onto his gray. The horse snorted as Gaius wheeled the horse, cavalry fashion, into the Canopic Way and set off at brisk cantor. “Hai, yup.” Gaius whistled and spurred his gray up.

  Antonius mounted his own horse and pressed his knees against the roan’s sides, laying the quirt gently against the animal’s flanks to catch up.

  As the clatter of their hooves echoed off the walls and disappeared in the gathering dark, Yakov noted their disappearance. Strange that the two men should rendezvous precisely here. Very strange. The other man could only be an aristocrat, with his classic Roman features. The narrow purple stripe on his tunic identified him as equites, a knight of the equestrian class. Probably the second Roman officer from the Twelfth. He slipped back into the darkness to report all this to Ibrahim.

  Only a quarter-mile separated the Roman soldiers from the city’s border. Alexandria did not have gates, but turnstiles on a few key roads provided lip service to security. The sleepy sentries waved them through...it was quiet and no passwords were in effect. Outside of town, they slowed the two animals to a walk. Gaius regaled Antonius with stories of the magnificent Library, until, a mile beyond the turnstile, the brightly-lit inn came into view. “You know,” he said, “The oddest thing, someone was looking for the same information as I, scrolls misplaced. Coincidence, I guess.”

  “Sir, I think…,” Antonius began, but Gaius waved him silent as they approached the pathway paved with white stones.

  “Later, Antonius, we are here.” The lanterns illuminated a low white stone building with a broad porch and tiled roof. The pathway led from the roadway to the taberna, that portion open to the public. The pathway ended in a circle around a fountain, reflecting the light from torches around the entrance. A brass dolphin, captured in a frozen leap from the fountain’s center, squirted water vertically from his mouth. The two men dismounted there, and two servants came out to lead their animals back to the sheds behind the building. “Water but no oats, please,” Gaius called out orders to the servants. “They have been liveried all day and are full to bursting now.”

  The two men came up the step through the porch, and entered into the taberna. The building enclosed a generous atrium, perhaps forty feet long by twenty wide, in the center of which was another fountain, and on either side, cooking and serving areas with whole pigs, huge slabs of beef and lamb slow roasting on charcoal fires. Servants filled plates for the thirty or so guests who sat on benches or reclined on couches around the perimeter. Some were Romans, a few of whom wore the wide purple stripes of the senatorial class on their toga. The remainder were clad in the Greek style, just simple tunics as were Gaius Lucullus and Antonius. A handful were very unusual in their dress and appearance, multi-colored shiny silk robes and odd-shaped eyes. Antonius felt distinctly underdressed and acutely conscious of his low social status.

  “Just your basic country inn, sir. I see, indeed,” he grumbled.

  “My cousin’s place. She and her husband, Aulus Aemilius Galba, invested in this taberna, and had it restored inside and out. They are just now beginning to make money from this effort. There she is now. Livia!”

  “Gaius!” A buxom red-headed girl of about twenty-five swept across the mosaic floor, her diaphanous white gown swirling about her. Her blue eyes twinkled in the lamplight as she enveloped Gaius in an enthusiastic hug. “You didn’t tell me you were coming!”

  “Livia, it is always a pleasure to see you. Only last week, my life was one of simple, never-ending border warfare with Judaeans, Syrians and Parthians, all trying to kill me,” he said with a chuckle. “My life has gotten much more complex, thanks to your husband. For the next few days, however, I will be staying here in Alexandria. Please pardon my manners, Livia, this is my centurion, Antonius Aristides. My cousin, Livia Luculla Galba.”

  “Pleasure, me lady.” Antonius muttered, offering his hand. He was very uneasy at social functions under the best of circumstances, having scant experience with such things. Now, the urgency to discuss the events of the day with Gaius Lucullus gnawed at him.

  “Oh, is this the great Antonius Aristides, the Greek, about whom you have written so much?” she crooned through delicate lips, smiling at him but talking to Gaius.

  Yep, me legate’s very own pet soldier.

  “Indeed it is he. He was primus pilus, the senior centurion for the legion. It took some doing to get the Legate to release him to accompany me on this latest adventure.”

  “Antonius, I can’t tell you how many times he has spoken of you in his letters.” Livia turned her beautiful high-cheekboned face toward him, her hair glinting copper in the torchlight. “Ever since he has been in the army as a subaltern, he has told me that he had learned this from you, or that you had saved his life in some dreadful battle, or how the two of you concocted some stratagem that carried the whole day.”

  Antonius blushed, uncomfortably aware of the intense gaze from her green eyes. He never knew that Lucullus had written home about him. “Well, I think I be learnin’ much from him too, me Lady.”

  Servants pressed wine goblets into their hands. Antonius checked to make sure that this wine was well-watered.

  “Livia, where is that errant husband of yours?” asked Gaius. “Is he taking good care of you?”

  “Aulus? He certainly is, and we expect an heir to the Galba patrimony perhaps in August. He is seeing to the various guests...I’ll fetch him.” She rushed off.

  Gaius turned aside to Antonius, and spoke softly through the side of his mouth. “Delightful woman. Always regretted being so closely related to her. She was a shameless tomboy when we grew up. Now she’s married and pregnant!”

  “Sir! I have somethin’ that’s really important ter talk ter yer about. I know you’ll be wantin’ to socialize, but it has ter do with some events in town today.” Antonius took a deep breath. Let’s get it over with. “I may have made some stupid mistakes that put us all in some danger. Or not. But yer need ter know.”

  Gaius Lucullus eyed him intently. “You are really serious, my good man.”

  Just then Aulus Aemilius Galba bustled up. He was a portly man, but not objectionably overweight, balding with graying hair at his temples. He was properly draped in a full toga, the wide purple stripe announcing his Senatorial status. A plain iron senatorial ring of the old style decorated the index finger of his right hand. With his girth and graying hair, he could easily have been mistaken for the younger Livia’s father.

  “Gaius, my cousin! Great to see you on this side of the Nile. I am so glad you accepted my invitation. I see you got my message at the Third.”

  “How could I turn down the chance to leave the most promising army posting I ever held, to go somewhere halfway around the world to a place I never even heard of?” He smiled, pausing while everyone chuckled. “Frankly, Lucius Maximus had to do some serious talking to convince me to come! And then, he had to give me the Twelfth’s best centurion
. Meet the best the Roman army has to offer, Antonius Aristides, our senior centurion, formerly primus pilus of the Twelfth Thunderbolt!”

  “Pleased to meet you, Antonius.” The Senator took his hand warmly. Antonius mumbled something in reply, feeling even more out of his social depth.

  Aulus returned his attention to Gaius. “Well, when the good Emperor selected me for this ambassadorship, I could think of no one but you to accompany me. So much of this mission revolves around military assessments, and you have devoted your life to that. You can see things in a glance that I would not notice in a year. I have devoted my life to making money, moving things from one port where they are not needed to another that pays dearly for them.”

  “Well, it should be interesting. Really. So little is known of the Hanae. I know you were well connected with Roman politics, but Trajan himself... how did he come to pick you for his envoy? That’s more than quite an honor,” said Gaius.

  “Well, I have been in the Indian trade now for several years. And every year we’ve put more ships in service, handled more pepper and silk, and plowed every sestertius back into the business. Our consortium of traders has opened a full-time trading mission in Muziris in India now, with bankers, insurance brokers, and shipfitters... everything we need at the distant end to make the trade profitable. With warehouses open year-round and buyers in-country, we can buy goods off-season inland, instead of paying premium prices in port at the peak of the sailing season. And this year, we are going with our biggest investment ever. Three big grain freighters, specially modified for the Indian Ocean trade. Two hundred and fifty feet.”

  “That’s a lot of ship,” said Gaius.

  “I called in some big favors owed among my colleagues in the Senate, and asked the Senate to split the cost of their construction and outfitting. Of course, His Excellency Trajan wanted to know all the details of how we were going to spend fifty million sesterces of public funds on just three ships on a single trip.”