So Crassus found himself in the luxurious splendour of a villa overlooking the town of Ephesus on the Aegean coastline. Pompey had invited him to dine with him as soon as he had arrived at the port, the villa nestling in the hills above the bustling town. Crassus was a frugal man — he had only one house in Rome — whereas Pompey was the exact opposite, flaunting his wealth and power at every opportunity. Tonight was no different, with the food being served from plates of gold and wine poured into jewel-encrusted silver cups. There were mosaics on the floor depicting images of Greek gods and hunting frescoes on the walls. Crassus reclined on a large couch that was set against the back wall of the dining area, facing the open side of the room that gave a panoramic view of the port and sea below.
Pompey reclined on his couch propped up on his left elbow, Crassus next to him. Servants first served them mulsum, a delicious chilled white wine with honey, and then served the first course of eggs, salad with asparagus and salted fish.
The formalities out of the way, Pompey got down to business.
‘I assume that the Senate is still hostile towards me.’
‘You are right in that assumption,’ gloated Crassus.
‘The Senate is ungrateful to its faithful sons.’
Slaves began serving the second course of meat, game and poultry.
Crassus saw no point in playing word games with his host. ‘What do you wish of me, Pompey?’
Pompey laughed and clapped his hands together. ‘Blunt and to the point, as ever. Is it not obvious? I wish to return to Rome without having to endure the tedium of censure by the Senate.’
Crassus picked at some cooked peacock brains. ‘You also want land for your returning soldiers?’
‘Of course, those who have shed blood for Rome should be rewarded.’
Crassus was prompted to ask where the gold and silver that Pompey had looted in Cilicia, Armenia and Pontus had ended up. Such wealth would be more than enough to purchase land for his veterans, but he thought better of it. He knew Pompey was very familiar with the phrase, ‘to the victor, the spoils’, and interpreted it very literally.
‘I have friends in the Senate who can calm troubled waters,’ said Crassus, ‘though such services are difficult to arrange.’
‘And very expensive, no doubt,’ added Pompey.
Crassus said nothing but smiled at his younger rival. Pompey continued.
‘I have been away from Rome for too long, but Rome still has unfinished business in the East. The man who leads the Roman invasion of Parthia will become very rich and very powerful, perhaps the most powerful man in the whole world.’
Crassus was now very interested. He knew the Parthian Empire was rich from its control of the silk route from China and its vast stockpile of gold that had once belonged to the ancient Persian Empire. But Crassus was slightly wary of his host. He was, after all, probably more ambitious than himself.
‘But do you not covet Parthia yourself?’
Now it was Pompey’s turn to smile. ‘My friend, there are other lands in the world to conquer. Besides, as I said, I have been away from Rome for too long.’
Crassus then brought up a subject designed to wipe the smile off his face.
‘Tell me, why did you retreat in the face of the Parthian rabble at the Euphrates?’
Pompey may have covered himself in glory in the East, but his withdrawal from the Euphrates without a fight had puzzled many in Rome and had cast a shadow over his military reputation.
Pompey seemed unconcerned by the question. ‘Why? I will tell you why. Prior to facing “the rabble” as you call them, we had been battered for five days by a sandstorm the like of which I had never seen before. We lost half our supplies and the men had no sleep for at least four nights.’
‘A sandstorm?’ Crassus was most sceptical.
Pompey’s smile had now disappeared. ‘Unless you have been in the midst of one you will not know their power. When we arrived at the river we did not find a rabble but a well-disciplined army of horse and foot led by a king called Pacorus.’
‘Pacorus?’ Crassus was startled by the name. Pompey’s smile returned.
‘That is correct, the same Pacorus that led the cavalry of Spartacus during the slave rebellion in Italy. Well, he is a king now and has raised two legions of his own. Can you imagine that, a Parthian king with Roman legions? But you know this, of course, because he destroyed your man, what was his name, Lucius Furius, at Dura.’
‘But you had eight legions, did you not?’ snapped Crassus.
‘I did, but other kings brought their armies to support Pacorus until the horizon was filled with Parthian horsemen, and then the Agraci hordes came to add their numbers against us.’ Pompey waved a hand in the air. ‘Besides, I have secured Rome’s eastern frontier on the Euphrates, as I vowed I would do. I had not planned for an invasion of Parthia. But I tell you this, the Parthians are not to be underestimated, especially Pacorus at Dura.’
‘He needs to be dealt with.’
‘It will take more than eight legions to destroy King Pacorus,’ remarked Pompey. ‘Remind me, how many men did you lose at Dura?’
All conversation stopped as Crassus toyed with his food and mulled over what Pompey had said. During the latter’s absence Crassus had strengthened his spider’s web of political and business allies, though if he left Rome then Pompey would no doubt set about trying to unravel them. He would have to give the Parthian question careful thought.
The rest of the evening was pleasant enough, with dancing girls and poetry readings saving the two men having to make polite conversation. Pompey never mentioned Parthia again and Crassus did not press the matter, but as Pompey was bidding his rival goodbye he reiterated that in return for his assistance in the matter of land for his veterans he would throw his weight behind securing Crassus a command in the East.
The next morning, while sitting in the study of his rented villa three miles south of Ephesus, Crassus pondered his next move. Ajax, his faithful slave, brought him water and fruit as he sat at his desk. He usually took breakfast in his study to allow him to get through the bulk of his work before the afternoon. Ajax was about to leave when Crassus stopped him.
‘Do you remember that Parthian whom you brought to my house in Rome some nine years ago, I think it was?’
Ajax stood still searching his mind for a few seconds. ‘Ah, yes, sir. I rode to the camp of the slave leader with your letter addressed to him, then escorted him back to Rome. He rode a white horse if my memory serves me right.’
Crassus sat back in his chair. ‘That is correct. Well, it appears that young man escaped from Italy after I crushed the slave rebellion and returned to his homeland. He is now a king who halted Pompey’s advance in the East.’
‘He did appear to be a most resourceful young man,’ offered Ajax. ‘Not to be underestimated.’
Crassus looked at Ajax, who wore a blank expression. Perhaps he had also heard of the defeat of Lucius Furius at Dura. Did he know that his master was thinking of a campaign in the East, was he warning him against such a venture? He dismissed such thoughts. Of course he could not know. Still, Ajax was an old companion, a trusted servant who had much responsibility in the house of his master. He was still a slave, of course, but one that Crassus was immensely fond of.