The Princess and the Pirates Read Online Free PDF

we’ve never met personally. I’ve heard you speak many times in the Senate and on the Rostra, General, but in the years when I’ve been in office you’ve usually been off with the eagles.”
    “I’ve heard wonderful things about your double aedileship,” he said, in a sonorous voice. “It’s about time somebody used that office to get rid of the scoundrels instead of acquiring wealth.”
    Gabinius had one of those great, old-Roman faces, all crags and scars, with a huge beak of a nose flanked by brilliant blue eyes beneath shaggy, white brows. Except for the intelligence in those eyes and the trained orator’s voice, he might have been one of those martial peasant ancestors we revere.
    “It’s how the job is defined by law,” I said modestly. “I trust that your stay here will be short, pleasant as it must be to enjoy the company of our host. With all the glory you have brought to Roman arms, surely you’ll be recalled from exile soon and put at the head of another army.”
    “My military days are over, I’m afraid,” he said, with equal modesty. “I’m content to spend whatever days are left to me in retirement. Perhaps I’ll write my memoirs, like Sulla and Lucullus.”
    Lying old bugger. No man who has sought supreme power ever really gives up his ambition, as witness Crassus and Pompey, who tried to be field generals long after they were too old for the job. It was clear thatSilvanus trusted him. If the position to the right of the host is the place of honor, allowing the host to serve the guest with his own hands, then the position to his left is the place of trust. This is because, in Roman-style dining arrangements, you present your back to the weapon hand of the man on your left.
    Cleopatra was to my right, at the next table and couch, which were at right angles, as was the one opposite hers. This, at least, was in accordance with Roman custom. Next to the princess reclined a lady of great beauty and expensive tastes, the latter evidenced by her many jewels and her attention-grabbing gown, woven of the costly Coan fabric, which is light, soft, and all but transparent. The censors rail against it for its extravagance and immodesty, but I have always rather liked it. Assuming, of course, that the lady thus draped has a body worth viewing. This one did. Next to her was her far less prepossessing husband.
    “Since you already know our royal guest,” Silvanus said, “allow me to introduce Sergius Nobilior, chief of the Banker’s Association of Ostia, now charged with putting the deplorable finances of this island in order. With him is his wife, Flavia.”
    They declared themselves honored to make my acquaintance, and I replied with equal insincerity. The custom of having women recline at table with the men was still rather new, and it was one of which I heartily approved. On the couch to my right, at least, beautiful women outnumbered ugly men two to one, and that is an improvement by anyone’s standards, except perhaps for Cato’s.
    The remaining table was a different story. Two of the places were occupied by a pair of Cleopatra’s tedious scholars, whose names I no longer recall. The final guest was a roguish-looking young man with a homely face and an engaging grin. Silvanus introduced him as Alpheus, a poet from Lesbos. He looked like more interesting company than any of the Romans present.
    “What occasion are we celebrating?” I asked, waving an arm to indicate the many statues, which were draped with garlands.
    “Just dinner,” Silvanus said.
    “I can’t wait to see what the real banquets are like around here.” The first course was served. It was the traditional hard-boiled eggs, but these were from a vast variety of birds, lightly tinted in different colors and sprinkled with rare spices. The courses that followed were far more lavish as to ingredients, with items such as peacock brains, flamingo tongues, cameltoes, honeyed ibex ears, and so forth, prized for their exotic origins