The Seven Hills (22 page)

"They will go back home," Norbanus said uneasily.

"They will not," Gabinius assured him. "They came to Italy as farm lads and tribesmen of Noricum. Now they have seen the riches of the civilized world. Before this is
over, they will have campaigned not just in Italy and Sicily,
but in Africa, Egypt, Syria and the whole East. A common trooper will win more loot in a day than his father and grandfather saw in their lifetimes of toil.

"And these wars," he went on pitilessly, "will not be over soon. These early victories have come easily because nobody
expected our arrival and they underestimated our strength. That will not last. Soon there will be alliances against us. Already we are looking at danger from Spain. Young Norbanus is stirring up a hornet's nest in Judea. Macedonia is
watching us with alarm. We'll never be safe until we've con
quered all the lands that border the sea, and that will be the
work of many years. We are raising a generation of men who
have no trade save war. In time they will be a great danger to the state."

"I take it you have some sort of suggestion," Norbanus grumbled.

"Exactly. Senatorial families already claimed most of Italy and there has been no little strife over conflicting claims. The new lands we are taking have no ancestral
claims on them. Let's set aside some of them right now as reward for the soldiers when they are demobilized. Otherwise,
the soldiers will not want to leave the profession of arms,
since it will be their only source of livelihood. But with the prospects of rich farms and slaves to work their land, they'll
be eager to trade the rigors of continuous campaigning for the life of gentlemen planters."

"That won't be easy," Scipio said. "Look at them." He gestured to the ebullient house. "Some of them are already in ecstasies of greed at the prospect of these Sicilian lands.
They won't want to see them pass into the hands of common
soldiers." He rapped his knuckles on the armrest of his curule chair. "I'll speak with the tribunes of the people. They
can start groundwork for passing a new agrarian law. Maybe
at first it will be best to declare the new conquests public land to keep it out of the hands of the major aristocrats. Later they can agitate for its distribution to veterans."

"That will do for a start," Gabinius said.

"You enjoy croaking of doom in the midst of celebration,
don't you?" Norbaniis said.

Gabinius gave them a lipless smile. "Ironic, isn't it? All this success may yet prove to be the ruin of us."

The huge legionary camp stood upon the plain of Megiddo, site of the recent battle. It was greatly expanded, for the Romans had acquired many horses and no small accumulation of loot. Near the Romans, King
Jonathan's men were encamped in less orderly fashion. They
had the task of guarding the prisoners.

Near the center of the Roman camp stood the praetorium. It had been the royal tent of the late King Manasseh, but Norbanus had appropriated it for his own use. Far more sumptuous than his previous campaigning tent, it had room
for the twin princesses who had become a part of his follow
ing. For three successive nights since the battle, it had been the scene of a victory banquet.

Manasseh had been defeated rather handily, the Roman
discipline and superiority of small unit commanders being crucial in conditions that discouraged close overall com
mand. After long and brave resistance, Manasseh's men had
finally cracked, dismayed by the iron fortitude of the Romans. Once their lines lost cohesion and men began to break away and run in panic, the slaughter was fearful. Those not caught by the legionaries or the light-armed pur
suers were ridden down and lanced by Jonathan's, cavalry.

Manasseh was killed trying to rally his soldiers, and with their king dead, his whole cavalry force had surrendered en
masse and pledged themselves to Jonathan, before the Ro
mans could reach them. As these were all wellborn young
men, Jonathan had accepted their oath and put them under his protection, unlike the common foot soldiers of Manasseh's army, who died in droves.

At the first night's banquet, the king of the newly united kingdom of Judea and Israel had been ebullient, flushed
with success. The general hilarity and good fellowship was only marred when Norbanus had Manasseh's head delivered to him on a platter between courses. This violated some rule
of local decorum, and Jonathan had insisted that his defeated rival be buried with the proper rites. He explained that he could incur divine displeasure by neglecting this duty. Norbanus complied cheerfully. It cost him nothing. Manasseh's was. not the head he longed to see on a platter before him.

The second night, the king had been cheerful. Now, on the third night of banqueting, he was thoughtful, even apprehensive.

"Titus, my friend," he said, "I am sole king now, and for this I shall always be grateful for your invaluable assistance. However, it is time that I see to the ordering of my country."

"And so you shall," Norbanus assured him. "I think what
is in order first is a progress through your newly acquired northern province of Israel. Your people must see you and
grow used to the idea that you are now their sole king. Since
we must march northward as well, it is fitting that you ac
company us, so that anyone of a seditious disposition can see
just what they face should they ever have subversive thoughts."

"And this way we can make a proper leave-taking when
we pass from your kingdom," said Lentulus Niger.

Jonathan forced a smile. "Excellent." He understood now For all practical purposes he was a prisoner until the
Romans marched away, an event he was beginning to antic
ipate with some pleasure. What suspicious people, he thought. They were not at all the unsophisticated brutes he had thought them at first.

"Cheer up," Cato said, grinning. "You are a Friend and
Ally of Rome now. From now on, you and your descendants can petition the Senate for assistance anytime you are threat
ened by enemies. And Rome will come to your aid, every time. We are the best allies in the world. We never leave a friend in the lurch."

"I shall prize the friendship of Rome always." He knew that this was true. As long as he stayed faithful to Rome, he would have those incredible legions at his call. He realized something else: He had surrendered control of his own foreign policy. From now on, his policy had to be in accord with Rome's. This was the bargain he had made to become sole king.

Two days later they were traveling north when the Parthians arrived.

The legions, accompanied by their allies and a horde of
camp followers, moved briskly along the road that led to the
Syrian border. At least, the Romans marched at their usual pace. Many of the legionaries were now mounted, but they restrained their horses to the speed of the footmen. The allies hurried to keep up and the camp followers straggled along for miles.

They did not at first see the approaching Parthians.
What they saw instead was an immense column of dust ascending skyward miles before them. Norbanus called a halt
and summoned his commanders. Together with Jonathan
and his principal officers they studied the alarming prodigy.

"How many horses does it take to raise such a cloud?"
Lentulus Niger wanted to know.

"It isn't the number of horses," said Lemuel, commander of Jonathan's cavalry. "It's how they are ridden. There are at least as many horsemen over there as we have here, but they
are not ambling along. They are coming at a fast canter. They will be here soon."

"Signal battle formation," Norbanus said. "In close order,
then sound 'prepare to receive cavalry.' Be ready to order a
testudo. These Parthians are said to favor the bow:"

"What about all these horses?" Cato asked.

"We can't use them effectively yet. Take them all to the
rear, except for the cavalry. Jonathan, I want your horsemen on our flanks. You stay close by me. They may ask for parley
and you are king here."

Jonathan nodded. "They approach boldly. Are they eager for battle, or just anxious to meet up with Manasseh's army before battle is joined?" The Parthians could not
know of the disaster Manasseh had met. Jonathan's riders
had pursued and killed every horseman who tried to escape the debacle.

"They shall find a situation very different from that which they anticipated," Norbanus said. "I think they will wish to consider their options before committing themselves to action." Behind them the trumpets sounded and the legions went from marching order to battle formation with their usual efficiency.

An hour later the dust cloud was very near, and they began to see the glitter of metal in the dimness. The lead elements appeared: a great double file that wheeled right and left as the Parthians came in sight of the legions. Other formations behind them split likewise, and the dust began to settle as the horses slowed to a trot.

"Watch how far they extend their line," Jonathan cautioned. "If they form a great mass in front of us, they will want to talk. If they keep extending around our flanks, they are going for a surround and we can expect arrows momentarily."

Norbanus nodded, approving of both Jonathan's advice
and his calm. He was not nervous, as at the earlier battle. He had confidence in his new allies. For his own part, Norbanus
had little apprehension. Romans did not fear arrows, and cavalry could not break disciplined infantry. Still, he was ready for anything. These Parthians were something new,
and they might know tricks and stratagems the Romans had
never encountered.

Some of the horsemen before them were heavily armored
and carried long lances, but most were archers, with light armor or none at all. All rode like men born on horseback. Only the very best Roman riders looked so natural in the saddle. In short order, the Parthians formed a mass perhaps five hundred yards in length, many lines deep. A small group rode forward, halting halfway between the two armies.

"It's talk," Norbanus said. "Are they likely to attempt treachery?"

Jonathan answered. "Everything I've heard of them says
the Parthians are most punctilious and honorable in these matters."

"Then we talk," Norbanus said. "Now, how shall we go
about this? A king should not ride out to parley unless there
is a king leading those men."

"I doubt the king himself came to support Manasseh,"
said Jonathan, "but the leader will be a close relative. If you
ride out without me, they will try to outmatch you in arrogance. Not, I admit, that that is very easy to do. If I go, my condescension will give us an edge in negotiations."

"Royal punctilio is your realm of expertise," Norbanus said. "Let's go."

With Jonathan in the lead, Norbanus riding to his right
and half a horse length to his rear, a few senior officers be
hind them, the party rode out to confer with the strangers.
Oozing confidence, Jonathan drew up within easy conversa
tion distance of the Parthian spokesmen.

To the Romans, these riders were truly alien, far more so than the Jews, who had been exposed to Greek influence for
many centuries. They wore long trousers and long-sleeved jackets stitched with colorful designs in gold thread. They were long-haired and bearded, their heads covered by tall
caps with long lappets hanging before their ears. Each man wore a cased bow and arrows at his belt, and some of them
wore a strange sort of armor made of small metal splints
tightly laced in rows and lacquered in vivid colors. Most astonishingly, they wore facial cosmetics, with rouged cheeks
and lips, and the eyebrows darkened with kohl, drawn to a point above the nose and extended into long wings at the sides. The Romans would have laughed at such a display, but the ferocity of the faces opposite removed any hint of effeminacy.

Jonathan spoke first. "I am Jonathan ben Isaac, king of all
the Jews. I demand to know what brings the soldiers of King Phraates within my borders."

One of the Parthians guided his horse a few steps forward. He looked much the same as the others but his light armor was gilded. "I am Surenas, royal cousin of King Phraates. We are here at the invitation of our friend, King
Manasseh. Where may we find him?" His Greek was heavily accented but clear. While he spoke, his eyes were fixed
upon the Roman party, and the legions standing a bowshot beyond.

"Alas, my brother is no more, and his rebellious province
is once more returned to its rightful sovereign. I take very seriously this unwarranted incursion into my kingdom." The Parthians bristled but held their tongues for the moment. Jonathan relaxed his provocative tone a few notches. "However, since you came here under the mistaken belief that you had the invitation of a sovereign, I shall not regard this as an invasion, so long as you refrain from all belligerent acts henceforth."

Surenas nodded. "I can see that things have changed here. My king must hear of the new order of things." He made a gesture of his hand, and the army behind him, until that moment tense and poised for battle, became a great
crowd of relaxing horsemen. Many men dismounted and be
gan to curry their mounts, examine hooves and dig rations from there saddlebags.