The King's Gambit(30)
“That might be best,” Carbo agreed, “but it might turn out to be a disappointment. From what I’ve heard, Tigranocerta may not be the fabulous royal city everyone talks about. Some say it’s just a big fort: hard fighting and little loot.”
“That would be unfortunate,” I said. “But I fear that things may be about to get worse for General Lucullus.”
Carbo’s look sharpened. “What do you mean?”
“Gnaeus, are you loyal to Lucullus?”
He seemed somewhat offended. “Loyal to my general? Of course I am. What reason have you to doubt it?”
“None at all. But all generals have enemies, and sometimes those are on their own staffs.”
“Lucullus is the best general I have served. I will be loyal to him as long as he is loyal to Rome.”
“Excellent. You will be returning to the army before the new campaigning season?”
"Yes. From here I will go to spend some time with my family, then I return to the East.”
“Good. Gnaeus, I am about to tell you something in strictest confidence, and I want you to convey this to General Lucullus. He does not know me, but he will know my father, the Urban Praetor, by reputation at least. It concerns the actions of his enemies, actions which I think to be not only hostile to Lucullus, but, even worse, pernicious to Rome.”
Carbo nodded grimly. “Tell me. I will tell him.”
I took a deep breath. This had the feeling of conspiracy, or at least slanderous troublemaking, but I could not ignore my instincts in this matter. “Sometime in the next year, Pub-lius Claudius Pulcher will sail to Asia to join Lucullus as a tribune. He is the general’s brother-in-law. Publius is a bad man, and lately he has been keeping company with the enemies of Lucullus here in Rome. I suspect that they have persuaded him to join Lucullus in order to undermine his command. Publius has no real interest in serving, but he wants to enter politics. I believe he is currying favor with a number of highly placed men by undertaking this.”
Carbo’s eyes narrowed. “I will tell him, never fear. And I thank you for taking me into your confidence.”
“I don’t know whether it is all a part of this or a mere coincidence, but Publius is now entertaining as his house-guest none other than Prince Tigranes, son of the King of Armenia. Do you know anything of him?”
“Young Tigranes? Just that he and the old man are on the outs. The boy felt he wasn’t being given enough power or some such and tried to raise a rebellion. He failed, naturally, and had to run for his life. That was last year. So he’s in Rome now? I’ll never understand why those eastern kings always want to breed so many sons, the way they always turn into rivals. No family loyalty over there—among the royalty, at any rate.”
This was a very true observation. A few years before, the King of Bithynia, Nicomedes III, had been so disappointed with his possible heirs that he actually willed his kingdom to Rome, as a bequest. It was the only province we ever acquired in so unorthodox a fashion. It was not totally bloodless, however. To nobody’s surprise, Mithridates found a supposed son of Nicomedes whose claim he could champion and tried to annex Bithynia to Pontus. He allied himself with Sertorius, who had made himself a sort of independent king in Spain and provided Mithridates with ships and officers. For a while he was successful, even defeating an army under Cotta, but that was when Lucullus took the field against him. Lucullus defeated Mithridates in a sea battle that time, and recovered Bithynia for us. All because an eastern king had no use for his family. The world is truly a strange place, and Asia is stranger than most parts of it.
I did not know what sort of trouble it might lead to, but I felt better for having passed on my warning. My only alternative would have been to write a letter to Lucullus, and such written documents are always dangerous things. They can fall into the wrong hands; they can resurface years later when political realities have been utterly transformed, only to be used as evidence in a trial for treason or conspiracy. He who would keep his head in Roman politics must be extremely careful of all such documents.
Well-fed and somewhat somnolent from the wine, we decided to walk around the city to clear our heads. Carbo, who had never been in Rome on a holiday, wanted to go to the great Temple of Jupiter to watch the ceremonies, which were famed for their elaborate spectacle. We went to my house so that I could lend him a toga and we climbed the long way to the old temple. He was not disappointed, despite the throngs of garlanded celebrants that crowded the Capitol. Romans never need much excuse to celebrate, and they throw themselves into it with a will. Coming back in the dim light of evening, we wandered in the streets awhile, accepting wine from the jars and skins that were passed promiscuously about. At that time, public officials were still expected to mingle with the people during holidays, without regard to rank or status. Aristocrat and bath attendant, patrician, plebeian, public official and common guildsman were all equal on a holiday. Today even Crassus and Pompey should be out in the temples or in the streets, pretending that they were just ordinary citizens like the rest of us. Well, perhaps not quite like the rest. They would have their bodyguards handy. Being good Roman citizens did not make them fools.