The fact of the coin did not surprise the officer of the guard. The light weight did, especially after he spread his own enfolding fingers and saw the sun wink on gold, not silver-washed bronze. The pirates’ loot had more than made up for losing the bank drafts with the expedition’s gear aboard the Eagle. “Hermes!” the commander muttered. He covered the aureus again as quickly as he had exposed it. “Yes sir,” he said. “Well. I’m sure a gentleman
of your experience can imagine how careful we need to be, what with the Games and all the talk of portents – dragons in the countryside! And they say the Borani have been raiding near Ephesus again.”
Sestius started to say something, but he managed to restrain himself. It was very difficult not to make yourself a center of attention by blurting out facts that everyone nearby would want to hear. At the moment, however, Perennius needed to gather information rather than to give it out. And the gods knew, it did not matter in the least to these folk if they were about to be raided by Germans rather than by Scyths.
The agent nodded toward the stream of people still making their way into the city. Whole families were travelling together, but without the impedimenta that would suggest a panicked flight from the countryside. In families wealthy enough to have slaves, the latter preceded the father to clear the way. The children were strung out behind their father in descending order of age. Then came any older members of the extended family; and last, the wife and mother. Submissive womanhood was by no means a virtue universally accepted among the Cilicians. It was noticeable that in families which owned a single mule or donkey, the wife was as likely to be mounted as the husband was. The women wore their finery under travelling shawls. Coiled earrings dangled nearly to their shoulders. The jewelry was gold if they could afford it, silver or brass if they could not. Sabellia, aware of her own battered appearance, glared back at the bold-eyed women as they passed.
“All the traffic’s for the Games, then?” Perennius said to the officer. “Who’s giving them?”
“Our lord Odenath,” the commander replied proudly. “Holding a day of supplication all over the province in thanks for his victory last year over the Persians. His latest victory. You know – ” the men had not been speaking loudly, but now the officer bent closer to Perennius and dropped his voice to a conspiratorial whisper – “there’s those who say a dragon appearing here means the same thing among princes. The one in Rome replaced by one from the East. I don’t know about that .. . but between you, me, and the bedpost, I wouldn’t mind if they were right.” The officer straightened and swept his hand out. “Who’s helped us while other folks loll around, screwing their way through all the titled sluts in Rome?”
The agent nodded in false agreement. Blazes, he’d heard worse. It was not Gallienus to whom Perennius’ loyalty was given, whatever that current holder of the office might believe. Besides, the last gibe amused the agent. The Autarch of Palmyra had his virtues, to be sure; but there was nothing in the scores of beautiful women entering Odenath’s seraglio to suggest that one of those virtues was chastity.
“You’ll have Hell’s own time finding lodgings today,” the commander called after them as they entered the gate. Perennius waved back with a smile. He knew from experience that gold would get them food and lodging as quickly as it had gotten them entry to Tarsus. Money was never necessary. Its effective use, like that of violence, involved more subtleties than many folk realized. But money smoothed most paths if one were willing to use it.
Tarsus was an ancient foundation. It had grown under the direction of various peoples, all of whom found the Roman fascination with straight streets to be unaesthetic and dangerous. Why go out of your way to make the key points of your city accessible to an invader? Let every branching be a potential cul-de-sac to trap him under the fire of rooftops on three sides. Let his spears if leveled jam in narrow turnings and if vertical catch in the second-story overhangs. And besides, who ever saw a straight line in nature?