I scanned the southern edge of the little plaza and saw an imposing tomb of the antique mastaba style said to be even older than the pyramids. The oldest pyramid still standing is just a series of mastabas stacked atop one another in diminishing sizes. Old fashions were always being revived in Alexandria, just as lately, in Rome, there has been a revival of Etruscan art and decor. I went to the tomb and stood before the door.
"Hypatia?" I said in a low voice.
"Come inside," came a feminine voice in an urgent whisper. I was determined to be foolhardy, but on the worst day of my life I was never that stupid.
"You come out here," I said. "If there's anyone else out here, you brought them." I gripped my sword hilt, ready to draw at the first sign of danger. The uncertain light did not bother me. To one accustomed to running fights in Roman alleys at midnight, this was like the Forum at high noon.
There was a stirring from within; then a slight figure came outside. She wore a long gown of some pale color, with a dark palla drawn over her head. As she emerged she lowered the palla to reveal a face of classic beauty. She had the straight, level brows and high-bridged nose so admired by the old Greek sculptors. Her lips were generous, albeit set in a rather hard line. Her eyes were large and they darted around the little plaza.
"I wasn't followed," I told her. "I am knowledgeable at this sort of business."
"That is what Julia told me. She said that you hunt down any who conspire against Rome as relentlessly as the Friendly Ones." She used the euphemism for the dreaded demons because to pronounce their real name can call them down upon the speaker.
"She speaks flatteringly, but I have been of some service to the state in the past. What have you for me?"
"A certain book, a large book of Pergamese skin-paper with vermilion handles."
"I've read it in copy, but I'm sure the Librarian of the Pergamese Collection will be grateful for its return."
"But you will find the original far more interesting. It contains more than the text in the copy."
"And what might that be?"
"First, my price."
I was expecting that. "How much?"
She laughed. "I have all the money I need. But you belong to the great family of Caecilia Metella."
"They have no choice but to acknowledge me."
"Plebeian, but with a line of Consuls and generals and great magistrates almost to the founding of the Republic."
"You are well educated."
"So you have great influence. I want to go to Rome. A woman without a protector is less than a slave anywhere in the world except Rome. In Rome, a woman of property has the protection of the law, even if she is not a citizen. In Rome, as a resident foreigner with the patronage of a Caecilius Metellus, I will be secure even when my beauty fades."
"Commendable foresight," I said. "You would do even better to contract a marriage of convenience with some impecunious citizen. There are men who do so regularly for a fee. That way, even if he divorces, you will have full citizenship rights, except, of course, for such as are restricted to men-the vote and the right to hold office and so forth. Your children would be citizens."
"I may do so. But first I must get to Rome. A simple sea passage would get me that, but I don't wish to be expelled from the city because your Censors decide that immoral foreigners are corrupting the good citizens."
"It could be done," I said. "If one of my family or an ally holds the office of Praetor Peregrinus, it would be made easier. Elections come along every year and someone suitable should be in office before long. I can't protect you from the courts should you operate a house of prostitution, but otherwise you should be safe. Assuming, that is, that the book contains important evidence."
"Oh, it does!"
"You have it with you?" I asked. "No. It is too bulky to carry through the city. But I can bring it to you. Will you be at the Roman embassy tomorrow night?"
"To the best of my knowledge."
"There is to be a reception at the Palace for the new Armenian ambassador. Orodes will be there, with most of the Parthian embassy staff. I can get the scroll at that time and bring it to you."
"Do so. You will not regret it."
She came close and for the first time I noticed her perfume. Jasmine, I think. "Just what sort of obligations does Roman patronage demand?" she asked.
"Nothing a man can't do in public," I said.
She chuckled. "Well"-she gestured toward the dark entrance-"we could seal our bargain in there, even if it isn't required by law. It seems to be an old Alexandrian custom."
I have never been overfastidious, but somehow a quick stand-up in a tomb didn't appeal to me. Especially with Julia in the same city. She had preternatural senses where other women were concerned. I didn't really think she could set her uncle Caius Julius on me, but there was no sense in taking chances.
"Our bargain depends upon your evidence being what you say it is," I said. "I wouldn't want to take advantage."
"When did a Roman ever fail to use every advantage he could get? Suit yourself, but it's your loss. I'll bet you've never been with a real Athenian hetaira."
That was true, but I had never been impressed to know that their accomplishments were in the areas of conversation, eloquence and quick wits. It suggested that they might neglect the important things.
"Another time, perhaps," I said. "Come, let's go back to the city." We walked back like another couple returning from a visit with the dead, my arm about her shoulders and hers around my waist. The guard at the gate opened the little sally port at our knock and collected another fee.
"If they just made this a toll-gate," I remarked, "Ptolemy wouldn't be such a beggar."
She laughed musically, but that might just have been another of her accomplishments. "Are you enjoying your stay in Alexandria?"
"Except for the odd murder and attempt on my life, yes. If one cannot be in Rome, this is the place to be. How did you come to be here?"
"Seeking opportunity. I was raised and trained in the house of Chrysothemis, the most famous hetaira in Athens. It was a good life, as women's lives go in Athens, but that isn't saying much. Athenian men can't perceive even noble ladies as any better than slaves, and there's little satisfaction in entertaining men who just like an occasional change from their usual boys. So I saved my money and came to Alexandria. Here, among the foreign ambassadors, a genuine Greek hetaira is a mark of status, especially if she's Athenian. I've been in turn concubine to the Libyan, Armenian, Bithynian and Pontic ambassadors, the last back when Mithridates was still king. Now I serve the ambassador from Parthia."
"I've never met a woman of such impressive diplomatic credentials," I said. "But I cannot blame you for finding Rome more congenial."
"Yes. Mine is an unforgiving profession. One's desirability lasts only as long as youthful beauty. Once that fades, the road downhill is steep. I've known women to go from highly paid hetaira to mere streetwalking porna in two years."
"It is a hard world," I agreed.
"But it is looking better now," she said. "Tell me, have you visited the Daphne of Alexandria?"
"I'll confess, the diversions of the court have been too exhausting to seek out the more strenuous amusements of the city."
"It isn't as famous as the one in Antioch, but it is more than lively. You've been living the high life thus far, Roman. Why not come with me and sample the low?"