The king had given Norbanus an extravagant purple cloak heavily embroidered with pure gold, and he now rode a horse so blindingly white that it might have been albino except for its fine black eyes. In concert with his already splendid uniform, patterned after Alexander's, he looked like a war god's statue come to life. Most men would have looked ridiculous in such a rig, but Norbanus had the swagger and presence to carry it off. His officers refrained from comment lest they appear envious.
"Lentulus Niger," Norbanus said.
"Yes, General?"
"I want as many of our men as possible to train on horseback at every opportunity. Let's not waste time trying to train them to fight from horseback, but I want them able to ride whenever necessary. That will give us a flying force in future operations. From all indications, most of the land in our immediate line of march favors mounted troops."
"Very good, sir," said Niger. "The Gallic boys are already good riders. They can help train their German and Italian friends who think horses are for pulling chariots in the Circus."
"When we've beaten Manasseh, I'll demand all his horses as part of our reward." Norbanus touched his horse's flank with a small golden spur and the animal leapt down the slope before him. His soldiers waved their heavy javelins and cheered as he rode along the front line, shouting praise or disapproval as he passed each unit.
Niger spat on the ground and snapped his fingers. The soldier detailed as his orderly ran up to his stirrup and handed him a wineskin. He took a drink and handed the skin across to Cato. "Do you think he'll demand one of the royal ladies as part of his reward, too?"
Cato grinned and raised the skin, directing a stream of rough local wine into his mouth. He passed it to the officer on his left and wiped his lips with the back of his hand. "Reward? Jonathan will demand he take them, just to get the bitches off his hands!" This raised a laugh from the knot of officers.
Their commander had proven to be a great favorite with the women of the royal household. The king's wives and daughters were kept secluded in a women's wing of the palace, but his numerous sisters and aunts had the run of the place, and court manners proved to be quite different from those of the populace. The royal family wore their religion lightly, and observed its many taboos and strictures only as suited them.
Holy men from the hinterlands, known locally as prophets, sometimes came to Jerusalem and inveighed against the loose morals of the palace. Jonathan usually found it politic to ignore them. The priests of the temple were far more accommodating.
The most aggressive of the royal women was Tamar, Jonathan's aunt. She was a great beauty and only a year or two older than the king himself. A woman of great force and passion, she might have shocked the Romans had they not already encountered Zarabel, princess and priestess of Carthage. The king's half-sisters, Glaphyra and Roxana, were twins. Their mother was Babylonian, and they were rumored to be addicted to unnatural practices. All three paid extravagant attention to the dashing Roman commander, and these were only the most notable of the palace women.
"I wonder if Manasseh's court has all the royal sons," Niger said.
"If so, I hope his luck in battle isn't as good," Cato commented.
When Norbanus had finished inspecting his troops, he rode back into Jerusalem through the Joppa gate and through the narrow, winding streets to the upper city. Above the smoky, tumbledown structures of the lower city, the wealthy had their dwellings. Finest among these was Jonathan's palace, a rambling mansion far more modest than the royal dwellings of Carthage and Alexandria.
Norbanus rode up the steps to the terrace and drew rein as servants rushed to take charge of his horse. He dismounted and surveyed the city. On higher ground stood the Temple. He still found it difficult to understand a nation that had but a single temple to house its solitary god.
The Temple was magnificently adorned, but like the palace it was of no great size. The successor kings who had followed Alexander had set the style for grandiose building projects, and like them the Jewish kings had longed to build an ostentatiously huge temple to aggrandize themselves and their city, but Jonathan had explained that ritual law thwarted them. Their holy scriptures specified the dimensions of the Temple down to the last cubit, and it could be built no larger. So the kings had contented themselves with adorning the Temple and building a vast terrace of interlocking courtyards to surround it. Much of the hilltop was surrounded by a great retaining wall to support the foundations of the spectacular terrace.
Norbanus turned from the view and strode into the palace, past the Greek mercenary guardsmen who saluted with their spears, into the cool interior. Here the walls were frescoed and the floors inset with colorful mosaics, the designs drawn from Greek mythology, in violation of the local cult's strictures against representations of living things.
The rooms of the palace were not large, for they saw little use. In this part of the world, most social life was carried on in gardens and under rooftop bowers. Even dinners and banquets were often held outdoors. He knew from Jonathan that the Judeans had once been desert wanderers and pastoralists, and they had not strayed far from their nomadic roots. They preferred a fine garden to the finest house.
He went to the great formal garden on the eastern end of the palace, where the royal family usually congregated after the sun had passed its zenith. Up the garden walls climbed ivy and along their base grew myrtle. Huge jars were planted with silphium, hyssop and other medicinal herbs. There were date palms and fig trees and grape arbors, but the greater part of the garden was in the Persian style. This meant that the many raised beds were planted with flowers, cultivated for their color and beauty alone.
In the center, near the largest of the garden's many fountains, Norbanus found the Lady Tamar, attended by her women. There were other men and women of the household lounging about the garden, but Tamar had seized this particularly attractive spot as her own and she held it against the other women. Norbanus suspected that a variety of Forum politics prevailed within the palace, with alliances, power blocs, and perhaps the occasional judicious assassination to determine rank and preeminence.
Tamar's clothing left little visible save her face and hands. Even her hair was covered by a veil. The voluminous gown that draped her body fell in graceful folds that revealed little of the shape beneath, yet she possessed the art of making even this over-modest attire subtly provocative.
"Good afternoon, General." At her gesture, servants brought a chair for Norbanus. With studied art he sat, sweeping his cloak to drape over the chair's arms in graceful folds. He opened a hand without looking and a slave placed a fine goblet in his grasp.
"Will you be marching against Manasseh soon?" she asked.
"I would prefer more time to organize and train," he told her. "Otherwise, your nephew's army and mine cannot act with cohesion."
"My nephew's army," she said, "had better cohere, and quickly, because my other nephew's army is on its way."
Norbanus cut a calculating look at her. "You've had word?"
"I have my sources." She favored him with a bland smile.
"What else have your sources told you?"
"That Manasseh has been assembling his army near Megiddo. That he has requested help from Parthia."
"Has such help arrived?" This was astounding. Unless the woman was weaving her story from whole cloth, she had spies within Manasseh's court, and couriers to keep her in contact with them.
She smiled again. "There has hardly been time for that. Manasseh is headstrong and has already begun moving his army south. But I think you had better move rather quickly now. Parthians ride much faster than our own soldiers march, so he could have his reinforcements by the time he joins battle with you."