The Seven Hills(12)

Gabinius looked at Izates with new interest. "I've heard of your nation. Is it true that you have only one god? That seems unnatural."

"It seems unnatural to everyone but us. But even Plato and other philosophers have speculated that there is only a single godhead, and that men have divided that deity into many aspects in order to explain the phenomena of nature and the universe: Zeus for thunder and lightning, Poseidon for the sea, Aphrodite for the attraction between men and women, Dionysus for the terrible forces of nature, Apollo for the enlightened thoughts of men and so forth."

"This is fascinating. I can see we shall have many enthralling discussions. Tell me, do your people still have their own kingdom, between Egypt and Seleucid Syria?"

The Romans are truly concerned about the power structure of the East, Zeno thought. Something must be happening there.

"Yes, the Hasmonean family clings to the kingdom of Judea. Egypt cares nothing for that part of the world anymore, and the Seleucids are too hard-pressed by the Parthiaris to give them much trouble."

"So your kingdom is strong and secure?"

"No longer my kingdom or my people," Izates said. "I'm more of an Alexandrian Greek, as Zeno says. But a man can't separate himself from his ancestry. The kingdom is beset by civil war, but that's an old story. When we are not united against an outside enemy, we fall to fighting among ourselves."

"Just like Greeks," Zeno said.

"Here we are. This is my house, which you are to regard as your own."

They stood before a blank wall that stretched in both directions for a considerable distance. They walked through the door into a spacious entrance hall dominated by a tall wooden chest. Before the chest was a bronze statue of a god, before which smoldered a small brazier. Gabinius took a pinch of incense from a box next to the brazier and dropped it onto the coals. His guests did the same.

"Is this your household god?" Zeno asked.

"This is Quirinus. He is our founder, Romulus, in deified form. This cabinet holds the wax death masks of my ancestors. My great-grandfather took them north on the exile and I have returned them home."

"Is this the home of your ancestors?" Zeno asked, looking around. Like most things in Rome, it looked and smelled new.

"There was little left but the foundations when we returned, but I have restored it exactly as it was. Most of us were able to locate our old homes. Our ancestors kept careful records of everything. Most especially of our lands and houses. This one has been in my family since Rome had kings."

They passed into a courtyard surrounding a pool in which a modest fountain played. The sides and bottom of the pool were lined with blue tiles lacking any design or ornament. The surrounding colonnade shaded the entrances to a number of rooms, but it held no sculptures. Instead, climbing plants were placed at intervals in large, earthenware pots. The vines had only begun to ascend the columns.

"We could use the triclinium," Gabinius said, "but the weather is so fine I suggest we eat out here. Does that suit you?"

"Admirably," Zeno assured him. "I can think of no lovelier setting."

"It is in excellent taste," Izates said grudgingly.

Gabinius smiled. "You mean it lacks any ornament? I know that you Greeks are fond of restraint. Actually, this place is just new, or rather newly restored. We could cart away little with us on the exile, and Hannibal's men took everything else. We Romans are rather fond of display and gaudy decoration. Come back in a few years and see whether you approve then."

Slaves brought out a table and chairs. "We recline only at banquets," Gabinius explained. "For ordinary meals we prefer to sit."

"Better for the digestion anyway," Izates said. "People shouldn't lie around like beached fish at a meal. Food was not meant to pass through the body horizontally."

They took chairs, and slaves brought ewers and basins to wash their hands. Cups were filled, and each splashed a bit onto the courtyard before drinking. The first course was hard-boiled eggs, and Gabinius explained that nearly every Roman meal began with eggs. They spoke of inconsequential matters through the simple dinner. The eggs were followed by grilled fish, then stewed lamb and, finally, fresh apples and pears. Throughput, platters of bread and cheese and bowls of oil and of a pungent fish sauce stood filled for the diner's use. When the plates were cleared away and the wine cups refilled, serious talk began.

"Why do you find Rome a fit subject for study?" Gabinius asked.

"Because the state seemed poised to take an important place on the world's stage when Hannibal eliminated it so abruptly. From obscure origins, Rome had thrust forth into importance in an incredibly short time. Its inhabitants and constitution showed every sign of destiny. Then all was cut short by Carthage. That much would rate a historical footnote.