The twins were attended by their own women, and as they sat, slaves slid a chair beneath each. "But of course," Glaphyra said. At least, Norbanus assumed it was Glaphyra. Her bracelets and other jewelry were studded with coral, and Glaphyra favored red stones: coral, carnelian, ruby. Roxana preferred blue: lapis lazuli, sapphire, amethyst. Of course, he realized, there was nothing to keep them from swapping jewelry to confuse people. Roxana raised her hand and a woman placed a scroll in her palm. She unrolled it with a flourish. "Our friend is a man of glorious promise, it seems," she announced. Her voice was identical to her sister's.
"What does your art tell you?" Norbanus asked, perhaps a little more eagerly than he wished. In Egypt, he had toured the splendid Temple of Hathor at Dendera and had been shown the Babylonian zodiac carved upon its ceiling in the days when the foreign art had penetrated even to the priesthood of that unthinkably ancient land. The priest had explained to him the significance of its signs and constellations.
This was an art very different from the auguries and haruspices of the Romans, and from the various divining arts of Norbanus's Celtic-Germanic ancestors. These only determined the momentary whims of the gods at a given time, and provided no long-range forecasts nor predictions of individual destiny. He was interested to hear what the twins had found.
"Titus Norbanus was most fortunate in the day and hour of his birth," Roxana said, "since it is not the custom of his people to take note of such things, being ignorant as they are in celestial matters. But he was born upon the night a certain comet appeared just above the rising crescent moon—"
"Itself a circumstance of greatest significance," Glaphyra interjected smoothly.
"—and this was noted by the Roman augurs," Roxana went on, "who usually take omens through lightning, thunder and the flight of birds, but who also note extraordinary phenomena such as comets and showers of falling stars."
"With this intelligence," Glaphyra said, "we were able to discern with great precision the stars and planets governing our guest's destiny. We think they are the most propitious to be seen since those of Alexander, almost two and one half centuries ago."
Norbanus's cup hand remained steady, but the other tightened its grip on the chair arm. This was what he wanted to hear, but he cautioned himself against credulity. These two were schemers from the womb they had shared, but the king and nobles of this court put much faith in their craft, so it could not all be trickery.
Roxana spread the scroll upon the table. The papyrus was covered with symbols and lettering that meant nothing to him. The two pointed out each, naming planets, signs, stars. They spoke of ascendancy, of declination, of precedents and fabled conjunctions, each twin taking up her sister's narration in a bewildering rhythm that kept him looking back and forth from one to the other until he was dizzy. Their presentation, he understood, was an art as polished as that of any Forum politician's.
"These are the signs of conquest, of mastery," Roxana said.
"But there is another," said Glaphyra, sweeping a gilded fingernail over a line of symbols that he thought resembled Egyptian picture writing and might as well have been, for all he could make of them.
"Another?" Norbanus said.
"Yes," Glaphyra informed him. "There is another, lesser person, born near you, with signs that are similar but not as propitious. He bears the attributes of envy and jealousy. He will be your enemy all your days."
"But you are the greater," Roxana assured him. "You will always prevail."
Scipio, he thought. It must be Marcus Scipio.
"You see," Glaphyra said, "how your sign entered the House of the Lion. Alexander's did the same. It meant that he was to take mastery of a foreign civilization and make it greater than ever before. Born in barbarous Macedon, he took up the cause of glorious Greece and spread its culture throughout the world."
And my forbears were Gauls and Germans, he thought. But it is my destiny to make Rome master of the world. It is true. It all fits. They are not frauds. How could they know this otherwise?
"What do the stars say of Manasseh?" Tamar asked. "A battle of kings is in the offing. Surely there are signs."
"The squabbling of petty monarchs are little noted in the stars," Glaphyra said, smiling. "Not like the fortunes of one such as Titus Norbanus."
"Indeed," Tamar said through gritted teeth.
Norbanus decided that he would have to keep these two close to him from now on. He would need to consult with them frequently. No doubt he could work something out with Jonathan, along with the business of Manasseh's horses.