“Certainly,” I said, “and I assure you that I shall look with great leniency on frivolous accusations of luxury-law violations. Somehow I do not believe that the prime threat to the Republic comes from how many rings a man wears or the weight of gold around his wife’s neck. I plan to dismiss out of hand all cases except those involving serious crime.”
“We shall all be most grateful,” he assured me, meaning that he would pass the word and I could expect a fine price break for any jewelry I bought from a guild member.
“Your best bet though,” I advised him, “is to cultivate the other censor. He can overrule Appius’s acts.”
“Oh, believe me, we are doing just that. Calpurnius Piso is most likely to be elected, and he is a man, how shall we say, amenable to persuasion. But he will have very weighty matters on his mind next year, and he may be fully occupied trying to protect his friends whom Appius Claudius plans to expel from the Senate.”
“The Senate is in severe need of pruning,” I said. “But I’ve recently spoken with Appius, and he seems far more concerned about the indebtedness of the senatorial class than about luxury per se.”
“Let us hope,” said Laturnus.
“Now, my friend,” I said, “what I came here to inquire about is this.” I took the heavy ring from my tunic and handed it to him. “Can you tell me anything about this?”
He took it, stepped closer to the open wall to catch the best light. “A lovely piece. It’s very old.”
“How can you tell?”
“It’s Etruscan work. This granulation of the surface is quite unique, and the art of making it has been lost for generations.”
That explained it. I’d seen that surface before, many times, on old bronze lamps and vessels, always of Etruscan make. “Why is it no longer done?”
“It was probably only done by a few families, and the families died out without passing the secret on. The granulation is not chased onto the surface with gravers, as such surfaces are done now. First, they made thousands of minute, gold beads, all exactly the same size. That, too, is a lost art. Then the roughened surface of the piece—the ring, in this case—was prepared with a layer of the finest solder.” His voice grew wistful, explaining the arcana of his vocation.
“Then the tiny beads were laid atop the solder, one at a time. This task was so demanding that it is said only children could do it properly. No one older than ten or twelve at the oldest, had the eyesight and the lightness of touch to accomplish it. Then, without disturbing the surface preparation, the piece was put into a furnace. It had to be removed the instant the temperature was perfect. Remove it too soon and the solder would not hold. Leave it too long and the solder would run off, taking the granulation with it. There were a hundred stages at which work this delicate could be ruined. It is amazing that any saw completion at all. But, when done properly, the effect is incomparable. Modern granulation work done with a graver or chisel is gross and coarse by comparison.”
“The stone looks Greek,” I said.
“It is. But the old Etruscans often incorporated Greek work into their own, just as we do today. Or, this could be a modern stone set into an old Etruscan ring. For that you will need to consult a lapidary. It is not my field.”
I took the ring back from him. “Many thanks, Laturnus. I believe that your guild and my future office will enjoy the most excellent of relations.” I rose from my chair.
“I rejoice to hear it. Why, if I may ask, is the origin of this ring of interest to you?”
“A matter of an inheritance. Several heirs claiming to be the rightful owner, you know how it goes.”
“Alas, so I do.”
Back out in the street I checked the angle of the sun. Still plenty of daylight left.
“That was interesting,” I said, “but probably irrelevant. Let’s go see if the stone has any surprises for us.”
We went to the nearby quarter of the lapidaries. Most of the workers in precious substances lived and worked in the same small area near the eastern end of the Forum. Their shops were often located in the Forum itself, but I was looking for a dealer who traveled widely and bought from many sources; one who specialized in sapphires.
A bit of questioning led me to the shop of such a man, a resident alien named Gyges. Despite his Greek name he had a distinctly Syrian look, not an uncommon combination in the eastern coastal cities. I explained what I wanted, and he looked at the stone.
“The stone is from Egypt,” he said without hesitation. “Once it had a different shape, but it was cut down and polished flat to prepare it for this carving. That is done a great deal with Egyptian stones. Outside of Egypt, nobody much likes Egyptian jewels. Fortunately, they liked massive, irregular stones, so it is relatively easy to alter them for a more refined taste.”