"You shall hear more of this," I promised. That is something one always says after being thoroughly intimidated. "Bear me to the Palace," I ordered grandly.
As we trotted thither, I fantasized punishments for the obdurate officer. He was perfectly within his rights to expel a foreign civilian, but that did not excuse him, in my estimation. After all, I was a Roman official, of a sort, and Egypt was a Roman possession, of a sort. But the man's insolence was quite driven from my mind by the news that greeted me when I reached the embassy.
I found Creticus in the atrium of the embassy and he beckoned me to him.
"Ah, Decius, this is convenient. We have some visitors from Rome. I was going to go greet them myself, but now you're here, so you can do it."
" You were going to greet them?" I said. "Who's that important?"
"A slave just brought this from the royal harbor." He held up a small scroll. "It seems that two ladies of important family have come to Alexandria for the salubrious climate."
"The climate?" I said, arching an eyebrow.
"This is a letter from Lucullus. He informs me that the climate in Rome is unhealthy, something involving political infighting and blood in the streets. He is sending his ward, the Lady Fausta Cornelia, and her traveling companion, another highborn lady, and asks me to extend all aid and courtesy."
"Fausta!" I said. "Sulla's daughter?"
He glared impatiently. "What other lady has ever borne that name?"
"I was just making sounds of astonishment," I assured him. "I've met the lady. She is betrothed to my friend Titus Milo."
"All the better. Round up some slaves, they'll have a lot of baggage. And arrange for quarters. I'll speak to the court eunuchs about a reception for them." Romans would never make this sort of fuss for visiting ladies, no matter how highborn, but the Egyptian court, dominated by eunuchs and princesses, was different.
"Who is the other lady?" A horrible thought struck me. "It isn't Clodia, is it? She and Fausta are rather close."
He smiled. "No, you won't be displeased to see this one. Now go. They're fretting at the dock."
I barked loudly and a gaggle of slaves appeared from nowhere. I ordered litters to be brought and they appeared as if by magic. It was really the most extraordinary place. I climbed into one and we trooped off to the royal harbor. This was a tiny enclosure within the Great Harbor where the royal yachts and barges were kept. It was bounded by a stone breakwater, and the opening in this was further protected by the island bearing the jewellike Island Palace, rendering it proof against the most violent storms.
Among the royal barges the little Roman merchantman looked humble, indeed, but the ladies who stood at the rail radiated arrogance the way the sun radiates light. These were not only Roman ladies, but patricians to boot, with that special assurance of superiority that comes only of centuries of inbreeding.
The slaves set down the litters and I clambered from mine as they abased themselves before the ladies descending the gangplank. The German-blond hair of Fausta Cornelia was unmistakable. She possessed the golden beauty of the Cornelians to an extent matched only by her twin brother, Faustus. The other lady was smaller and darker, but just as radiant. A good deal more so, to my eyes.
"Julia!" I cried, gaping. It was, indeed, Julia Minor, younger daughter of Lucius Caesar. Not long before this, a meeting of our families had been held and we had been formally betrothed. That we had desired this betrothal was, of course, immaterial as far as the families were concerned, but was regarded as a rather fortunate happenstance. At that time the Metelli were in a frenzy of fence-mending with the contending power blocs. Creticus had married off his daughter to the younger Marcus Crassus. Caius Julius Caesar was the rising star of the Popular Assemblies, and a connection with that ancient but obscure family was desired. Caius Julius's own daughter was already promised to Pompey, but his brother Lucius had an unmarried younger daughter. Hence, we were betrothed.
"Welcome to Alexandria!" I cried. I took Fausta's hand briefly; then Julia presented her cheek to be kissed. I obliged.
"You've put on weight, Decius," she said.
"What a flatterer you are," I said. "These Egyptians feel they've failed their gods if they allow a Roman to walk a step more than necessary, and who am I to interfere in their devotion to piety?" I turned to Fausta. "Lady Fausta, your beauty adorns this royal city like a crown. I trust you had a pleasant voyage?"
"We've been heaving our guts out since we left Ostia," she said.
"I assure you, the accommodations here will more than make up for the rigors of a winter voyage." The slaves had been unloading their baggage during all this. By the time it was all ashore, the ship rode a foot higher in the water. The ladies were attended by their personal maids, of course, and a few other slaves. They would be lost among the multitude at the embassy.
"Is Alexandria as fabulous as I've always heard?" Julia asked, excited despite her rather drawn and haggard appearance.
"Beyond your wildest imaginings," I vowed. "It shall be my greatest pleasure to show it all to you."
Fausta smiled obliquely. "Even those low dives where you've no doubt been disporting yourself?"
"No need," I said. "The very basest of amusements are to be had at the Palace." At that even the notorious Fausta looked a bit nonplussed.
"Well, I want to see the more elevated sights," Julia said, crawling wearily into her litter and inadvertently treating me to a flash of the whitest thigh I had ever seen. "I want to see the Museum and converse with the scholars and attend lectures by all the famous, learned men." Julia had that tiresome love of culture and education that infected Roman ladies.
"I shall be only too happy to introduce you," I said. "I am intimate with the faculty." Actually, I had been there only once, to visit an old friend. Who wants to consort with a pack of tiresome old pedants when some of the finest racehorses in the world are exercising in the Hippodrome?
"Really?" she said, eyebrows going up. "Then you must introduce me to Eumenes of Caria, the logician, and Sosigenes, the astronomer, and Iphicrates of Chios, the mathematician. And I must tour the Library!"
"Libraries," I corrected. "There are two of them, you know." I sought to change the subject and turned to Fausta. "And how is my good friend Milo?"
"Busy as ever," she said. "Fighting all the time with Clodius. He's secured a quaestorship, you know."
"I heard," I said, laughing. "Somehow I can't picture Milo working away in the Grain Office or the treasury." Milo was the most successful gangster Rome had ever seen.
"Don't bother. He works out of his headquarters as always. I think he's hired somebody to carry out his duties as quaestor. He sends you his warmest regards, by the way. He says you'll never amount to anything if you spend all your time lazing away in foreign lands instead of working in Rome."
"Well, dear Titus has always extolled the benefits of hard work and diligence. I, on the other hand, have always felt these to be virtues proper to slaves and freedmen. Look at how hard these litter-bearers work. Does it do them any good?"
"I knew you would say something like that," Julia said, sitting up and craning her neck to take in the magnificence through which we were carried.
"The men destined for greatness are all fighting it out in Rome right now," Fausta said.
"And every one of them will die on a battlefield, or from poison or the dagger of the assassin," I maintained stoutly. "I, on the other hand, intend to expire of old age with the rank of Senior Senator."