The money ran out; he had to do something for the wretches. The elders among the Roman Jews organized a collection for the slaves and asked the municipal authority to assist them in distributing it: they did not wish to take sides in the domestic squabbles of the prisoners. Everyone could well imagine how much of that money actually got to the slaves. The native Jews of Rome made sporadic donations, but in moderation; they had no money themselves as the Jewish tax had taken it all.
A vast palace was built for the emperor’s darling, a certain Antonia, next to the barracks of the Praetorian Guard past the Via Nomentana. That just has to be Kainis, Uri thought to himself; after what seemed like the hundredth time of trying, and at the cost of a tidy sum of money, he eventually arranged for a letter to be handed over to her.
Two days before the time he had indicated, it sprang to Uri’s mind that he ought to take Kainis a gift. A nice scroll of some kind. He went out to the unoccupied peasant cottage; the cement storehouse in the yard was untouched. He opened the door and entered.
It was empty, not one scroll remaining.
Uri sank to the ground and remained sitting there for a long time.
The lock had not been broken; Salutius was the only other one with a key. It had to be him who had taken the scrolls.
He trudged over to Far Side. Salutius had grown a long beard and his hair had turned white since they had last met, six months before; his look was agitated, he was even more round-shouldered than ever. The atmosphere in Far Side must have been straining his nerves.
“I’m glad to see you,” he said.
“Where are the scrolls?”
Salutius went red in the face.
“I tried to alert you,” he stammered, “but you’re constantly caught up running around on matters connected with your prisoners. Half of it is yours.”
“Half of what?”
“The money.”
Uri thought he was going to choke.
“You’ve sold the books?”
“I got a superb price for them,” Salutius protested. “Thanks to your brilliant business flair! They paid a fortune for the lot!”
“Who’s they?”
“The imperial library! They’re collecting all scrolls on Judaica; they’re buying up anything Jewish!”
Uri stared blankly.
“They paid three hundred thousand sesterces!” Salutius rhapsodized. “Half of it’s yours!”
Uri took a few deep breaths in the same way as he had seen Philo do.
“Keep it!” he muttered, getting up from his seat and staggering out.
It was possible to get them back; he had to get them back.
He needed to record what had happened; that could not be done without the source materials.
By the time he set off to see Kainis it was no longer money he wanted to ask for, but help in reclaiming his library.
He peered shortsightedly as he walked along the Via Nomentana but there was no way he could miss the massive block of the Praetorian Guard’s barracks. Kainis’s palace had to be nearby.
The palace had a long, tall, whitewashed wall; it must be enormous inside.
Uri would have liked to think that Kainis had arranged for her palace to be built not far from his own cottage with the aim of being close to him, but he could not entertain any such thoughts: Kainis had put herself under the constant supervision of bodyguards.
Uri gave his name, and a guard went inside; Uri waited. The way in which permission to enter had to be asked for was the same as it had been with Narcissus. This time he was not stricken by an urge to defecate: back then he had still been fretting over his family.
After a thorough frisking, three guards escorted him through a vestibule then across an immense, lushly verdant garden in which a brook was babbling and fountains were splashing. A circular pavilion of alabaster stood at the bottom of the garden; the guards came to a halt and one of them indicated the way with a nod of his head. Uri went up the three steps and entered the pavilion.
Kainis got up from a couch and walked toward Uri.
Uri blinked. Kainis had on a short, beautifully pleated white tunic with a maroon silk belt; her hair was now completely silvery. She came to a stop and Uri approached closer to see her better. Her features were wrinkled, her slight, slim body wizened, her legs spindly, but that did not bother Uri: she had carefully made up her eyelids and lips.
She’s titivated herself in my honor, it occurred to Uri, and he smiled.
The deep pools of Kainis’s eyes, even now wonderful to look at, flickered. Just a flash, but Uri noticed.
She wants to conceal her pity for me, he thought.
Uri had hardly any teeth and his mouth had crumpled; he was also now totally bald.
They studied each other at length before a tubby individual darted out and flung his arms around Uri’s neck.
“Gaius! Gaius!” the eunuch Posides exclaimed.
Uri sighed: he might have guessed that he was not going to be spared a head-to-head with Kainis. He patted Posides’s round cheeks.
“You haven’t aged a day!” he said.
“We don’t usually. Now give Kainis a peck! She’s been waiting so long to meet you!”
Uri halted.
Kainis turned to go back into the pavilion, followed by Uri and Posides.
Magnificent statues, paintings, furniture, rugs.
Kainis seated herself on a stool without a back. Posides indicated to Uri to take a seat on a comfortable leather armchair facing her, while he plopped down at his mistress’s feet.
“How are your protégés, the Jewish slaves?” Kainis asked. She had the same marvelously deep voice as she had of old.
“They are happy and proud to be helping build the Colosseum,” Uri replied.
Kainis chuckled. She still liked to do that.
Posides also chortled.
“My firstborn son was also castrated,” Uri tossed an aside to Posides.
“Consider yourself lucky!” he cried out merrily. “At least he’s happy!”
“He lives in Pompeii.”
“Pompeii’s divine!” said Posides. “Ten years ago there was an earthquake in Naples and the amphitheater was slightly damaged, almost burying the emperor, but the astronomers all say that there won’t be another tremor for a hundred years, and it’s true that Vesuvius has hardly been discharging any smoke!”
Uri looked at Kainis. It did not matter that Posides was present.
“It would have been nice to grow old together with you,” he said.
Kainis’s eyelids fluttered again.
“I would not have been a good wife to you, Uri,” she said. “I would never have been able to stand what I could have had to undergo beside you.”
“Certainly you could have,” Uri responded. “A person is able to take a lot. You can regret not having lived with me: I’ve had an interesting life; I learned a lot.”
“I too have had an interesting life,” said Kainis.
Uri was silent. Only now had it registered that Kainis had called him Uri; she had never done that before, it had always been Gaius. Did I mention it to her that I was called Uri at home? Most probably if she had said it.