‘This is our friend Jonathan ben Mordecai,’ said Flavia. ‘He was with us on the Tyche.’
Thonis handed Jonathan his wine skin. ‘Here, have some wine. It’s from the vineyards of Lake Mareotis, and the finest in the region.’ While Jonathan drank, Lupus heard Thonis whisper to Myrrhina in rapid Greek. ‘The Tyche – “Good Fortune”. Ironic, eh? But the gods have certainly favoured these three.’
Lupus did not let on that he understood Greek perfectly. Instead he turned to Flavia and imitated someone playing a flute.
Flavia nodded at him and turned to Thonis. ‘We still need to find our friend Nubia. And my uncle.’
Lupus saw her eyes fill with tears, and he patted her on the back. But his attempt to comfort her did not have the desired effect: Flavia began to cry. Myrrhina took Flavia in her arms and whispered soothing words in Greek.
Thonis turned to the woman dressed as Queen Dido. ‘Isidora,’ he said. ‘These children are exhausted. They need food and water and sleep. Can you help them?’
‘Of course,’ she said. ‘Lampon and Pindarus went home at dawn. I’ll have another bed brought in and the children can stay in that room.’
Thonis turned back to Lupus and Jonathan. ‘You children go with Isidora and get some food and rest. Don’t worry about your missing friend or your uncle. Isidora’s slaves are scouring the beach. If they survived, we’ll find them.’
The next morning, Jonathan and his two friends found themselves riding along the coastal road in a two-horse chariot. They had given the beach a final search at dawn, but found no more survivors or bodies. Now Thonis was driving them into Alexandria.
‘Great Juno’s beard!’ said Jonathan, gazing at the smudge of smoke on the blue horizon before them. ‘Is that the Pharos? How far away is it?’
‘About fifty stades,’ said Thonis. He was dressed in the Greek fashion, in a cream tunic and blue chlamys. His curly hair was anointed with expensive oil of terebinth and Jonathan could smell its distinctive sweet turpentine scent.
‘How far is fifty stades in miles?’ asked Flavia, raising her voice to be heard above the clopping of the horses’ hooves.
Lupus held up his left hand – fingers spread – and his right forefinger.
‘You think six miles?’ Jonathan asked him. Lupus nodded.
Thonis said over his shoulder. ‘That’s right. If you reckon eight stades to a mile.’
‘The Pharos must be enormous if you can see its smoke six miles away,’ said Jonathan.
Thonis chucked. ‘It’s five hundred feet tall. And it’s not actually called the Pharos. That’s the name—’
‘—of the island on which it’s built!’ interrupted Flavia. ‘I know that from Pliny’s Natural History,’ she added. ‘And I also know that it’s considered one of the Seven Sights of the world.’
‘Ehem!’ laughed Thonis. ‘Well, well! You children are quite the little scholars, aren’t you?’ The beat of the horses’ hooves quickened as he whipped them into a gallop.
Lupus whooped and punched his fist in the air.
‘Enjoying your chariot ride?’ said Thonis.
‘We’ve been in a chariot before,’ shouted Flavia over the clatter of hooves. ‘In the Circus Maximus!’
‘But we’ve never travelled in one,’ added Jonathan. ‘At home we usually catch a slow mule-cart into Rome.’
Thonis nodded and called over his shoulder. ‘Here in Alexandria everybody who’s anybody drives a chariot.’
‘How do you make the wheels run so smoothly and quietly?’ asked Jonathan.
‘Look for yourself,’ said Thonis. ‘See the palm fibre padding, woven around the wooden wheel? Very tough and durable. The slaves only have to replace it every few weeks.’
‘Is that Alexandria?’ asked Flavia, pointing to a cluster of gleaming marble buildings coming up on their left.
‘Nicopolis,’ said Thonis, reining in the horses to a trot. ‘It was there that Octavian forced Anthony to kill himself. Octavian called it Nicopolis after his victory. He hoped it would rival Alexandria. See the theatre? He built that and a stadium, and a fort big enough for two legions. Most of the Roman officials and merchants live there,’ he added.
They passed the town of Nicopolis, and as they reached its further outskirts, Thonis pointed to a high-walled building behind a grove of palm trees. ‘There! Do you see the Roman fort?’
Jonathan nodded. He could see the sentries on the walls. Above the rhythmic clop of the horses’ hooves he thought he could hear the distinctive clank of a cohort of men performing manoeuvres inside.
The road curved away from the coast and took them south through shaggy palm groves. Jonathan caught glimpses of a city wall through gaps in the palms. Alexandria’s town walls were built of massive hewn blocks of pale yellow limestone, with semi-circular towers every hundred and fifty feet. As in Ostia, tombs lined the road, but unlike those in Ostia, many were adorned with sphinxes and the strange coloured picture writing of the Egyptians.
‘That’s the Temple of Ceres,’ said Thonis, gesturing towards a massive Graeco-Roman temple that lay outside the city walls. ‘Wheat is Egypt’s wealth, you know, so Ceres is an important goddess.’
‘We know,’ said Flavia. ‘Ostia’s granaries are full of Egyptian wheat and we worship Ceres, too.’
At last they came within sight of a massive arch in the city wall, flanked by Roman soldiers acting as guards. There were some carts and another chariot in front of them, waiting to enter the city.
‘This is the Canopic Gate,’ said Thonis as he slowed the horses to a walk. ‘Entrance to the most beautiful city in the world.’
‘Look at that tomb, Jonathan!’ said Flavia pointing. They were moving slowly enough to read the inscription. ‘The epitaph’s in Hebrew, isn’t it? Sh-moo-ell,’ she read haltingly, then looked at Jonathan bright-eyed. ‘Samuel! That means Samuel!’
‘Yes,’ said Jonathan. ‘And that next one’s in Greek. It’s Jewish too. In fact, most of the tombs here seem to be Jewish.’
‘There are more Jews here in Alexandria,’ said Thonis, ‘than there are in Rome. That’s why there are so many Jewish graves here in this necropolis. The gate up ahead leads right into the Delta District, where most of the Jews live.’
They had reached the gate now and he reined in the horses as a guard clanked over to them.
‘I am Thonis son of Sabbios,’ said Thonis to the guard. ‘A cloth merchant, with a workshop in the Gamma District and a warehouse in the Brucheion. These children have been shipwrecked. I’m taking them to see the authorities.’
The guard shook his head. ‘How do I know these aren’t slaves you want to sell at the market, trying to avoid the slave tax?’
‘We’re freeborn,’ said Flavia. ‘Look! Jonathan and I have imperial passes.’ She pulled out a small ivory lozenge on a cord around her neck. Jonathan pulled his out, too.
The guard’s eyes grew wide. ‘I’ve never seen children wearing these,’ he said, ‘but they seem genuine.’ He shrugged, gave a cursory glance into the back of the chariot, then waved them on.
‘Where in the world did you get those?’ asked Thonis, as he flicked his team into motion.
‘We told you at Isidora’s,’ said Flavia. ‘We were on a mission for the Emperor Titus. He gave them to us.’
Thonis looked over his shoulder at Lupus. ‘Don’t you have one?’
Lupus nodded, then pointed towards the sea and shrugged.
‘He must have lost his in the shipwreck,’ explained Flavia.
‘Too bad,’ said Thonis. ‘They’re worth a small fortune. Especially the ivory ones, like yours.’
‘Don’t we have to get out and walk now?’ asked Jonathan, as they passed under the massive arch of the city gate.
‘Whatever for?’
‘In Rome they don’t allow wheeled traffic during the hours of daylight.’
Thonis chuckled and pointed with his chin, ‘That’s because the streets of Rome are not one hundred feet wide.’
‘It’s amazing!’ Flavia echoed Jonathan’s words as they passed through the arch of the Canopic gate. The broad, granite-paved boulevard was lined with lofty palm trees. In the centre was a narrow central barrier studded with obelisks, statues and sphinxes. ‘I’ve never seen a street so wide,’ cried Flavia. ‘Or so long. You can see straight ahead for miles!’
‘Three miles to be exact,’ said Thonis proudly.
Lupus grunted and pointed at the dazzling white lighthouse rearing up ahead of them and to their right, its plume of smoke dark against the clear blue sky of mid-morning.
‘Oooh!’ they all breathed.
‘And look at the buildings either side,’ said Jonathan. ‘And the colonnades that never seem to end.’
Flavia nodded. ‘This big street reminds me of the Circus Maximus.’
‘You’re right,’ agreed Jonathan. ‘Look, they’ve even divided it into two lanes. So you’ve got your fast-moving chariots and horses in the central lane, closest to the barrier. Then you have your carts and camels and donkeys in the slow outside lane. And a pavement either side for pedestrians and sedan-chairs and litters.’
‘What’s that conical green hill rising above the roofs?’ Flavia pointed towards the south. ‘It looks like one of the turning posts of a racecourse, only fatter.’
‘That’s the Paneum,’ said Thonis over his shoulder. ‘It’s a man-made hill and sanctuary to the god Pan. And this big street we’re driving down is called the Canopic Way. See the double colonnade on either side? The most expensive shops in Alexandria are to be found along this boulevard. You can buy goods made of brass, copper, bronze, Corinthian bronze, iron, gold, silver, tin. And there are special markets for glass, ivory, tortoiseshell and rhinoceros horn. You can purchase wine, olive oil, sesame oil, honey, wheat, and perfume. My friend Lampon owns a papyrus factory down that side street.’ He gestured to the left. ‘You name it. We’ve got it.’
Flavia gazed at green canvas awnings casting emerald light over stalls full of coloured cones of spices and sacks of dry goods. Most of the pedestrians here were bearded with the skullcaps that marked them as Jewish. But she also saw clean-shaven, turban-wearing Egyptians, ebony-black Ethiopians, olive-skinned Greeks and even some red-bearded Gauls. There were women, too, walking in groups or pairs, most of them heavily veiled but one or two carrying parasols with their faces exposed in the Roman way. Men as well as women wore long loose tunics, like the one Isidora had given to Flavia.
Lupus grunted and pointed at a handsome youth in a short tunic the colour of papyrus. He was scooping up something with a wooden paddle and putting it in a hempen bag slung round his shoulder.
‘What’s he doing?’ asked Flavia.
Lupus pointed to his bottom and held his nose.
‘He’s collecting dung?’ said Jonathan.
Lupus nodded and grinned.
Thonis chuckled. ‘Lupus is right,’ he said. ‘That’s one of our official street-cleaners. The town council pays them a few coppers from public taxes and they supplement their income by selling dung to farmers and market gardeners outside the city.’
‘Now that you mention it,’ said Jonathan, ‘the streets are very clean.’
‘We also have our own vigiles,’ said Thonis, ‘though fires are rare in a city of marble like this. And then there are the men who maintain the fire on the Pharos. Even the scholars and scribes of the Great Library are paid from public taxes.’
‘Speaking of the Great Library,’ said Flavia, ‘where is it?’
‘You can’t actually see it,’ said Thonis. ‘It’s part of the Museum. The Museum is the centre of all knowledge in the world.’ Suddenly Thonis cursed and reined in his team as a little boy in a grubby loincloth chased a black cat across the Canopic Way. The boy almost went under the hooves of their horses, but managed to scamper to safety, sweeping his cat under one arm and making a rude gesture at them with his other.
Lupus gestured back and Flavia laughed to see the two boys grinning at each other. The boy in the loincloth scrambled up onto a small granite sphinx on the central barrier and straddled it like a horse. He waved as the chariot moved forward again. Flavia turned to watch him.
‘That boy’s cat is wearing a jewelled collar,’ she remarked. ‘It’s better dressed than he is.’
‘It’s probably not his cat,’ said Thonis. ‘Probably belongs to one of the temples in the Beta District up ahead,’ he added.
‘Maybe he’s going to steal the jewels from the cat’s collar,’ said Jonathan.
‘They’d execute him if he did,’ said Thonis. ‘Cats are sacred here in Egypt. The penalty for hurting one – or even robbing one – is death.’
Jonathan and Lupus exchanged looks of wide-eyed amazement but Flavia had caught sight of something up ahead: ‘Oh!’ she cried. ‘What’s that amazing building with the coloured columns and dome?’
‘That is the Soma, where the mummified body of Alexander the Great lies in a sarcophagus made of granite and glass. They say when Octavian Augustus went to view it a hundred years ago he couldn’t resist touching the nose.’
‘What happened?’ asked Jonathan.
‘What do you think?’ said Thonis with a laugh. ‘He broke Alexander’s nose. Would you like to see it?’
Lupus tugged Flavia’s long tunic and nodded enthusiastically.
‘Yes,’ said Flavia. ‘We would love to see the noseless and mummified corpse of Alexander the Great. But first—’
‘I know, I know,’ interrupted Thonis. ‘You want to visit the harbour-master to see if your father is still here in port.’
‘But even before that,’ said Flavia. ‘We must visit the temple of Neptune and thank him properly for saving us. I don’t want to make the same mistake Menelaus made when he was here.’
‘Ah, yes,’ said Thonis, and quoted: ‘Although I was anxious to return, the gods kept me in Egypt because I failed to offer the proper sacrifice . . .’
The Soma and the Museum marked the great crossroads of Alexandria, and as they turned right towards the lighthouse and the harbour, a deliciously cool breeze touched Jonathan’s face and ruffled his long, brown tunic.
‘Feel that?’ said Thonis over his shoulder. ‘That’s the Etesian Wind, the secret of this city’s success. Alexander’s architects planned the street grid so that half the streets face northwest, perfectly aligned to catch that wonderful zephyr that blows all summer. It keeps the city cool and fresh and free of pestilence.’
‘It’s lovely,’ said Flavia, and Lupus nodded his agreement.
Jonathan nodded, too, but now he was gazing at the buildings and colonnades on either side. If anything, this street was more impressive than the Canopic Way.
‘Is this street also a hundred feet wide?’ he asked Thonis.
‘Yes, it is.’
‘And how tall are those obelisks?’ he said, pointing towards the end of the boulevard, where two obelisks stood.
‘About eighty or ninety feet high, I’d guess,’ replied Thonis.
‘They’re just like the one in the Circus Maximus,’ said Flavia. ‘I wonder if they have those funny pictures on it.’
‘Hieroglyphs,’ said Thonis. ‘Holy writing of the Egyptians.’
Jonathan was gazing at a marble theatre when he felt Lupus tug his tunic and heard Flavia gasp.
He turned to see a dazzling building come into view on their left, near the two obelisks.
‘Master of the Universe,’ he breathed. ‘It’s made of gold and silver.’
‘That is the Caesarium,’ said Thonis. ‘A temple begun by Cleopatra in honour of Marcus Antonius, but finished by Octavian Augustus who then dedicated it to himself. Inside are hidden courtyards, colonnades, gardens and even a library.’
‘The Library?’ asked Flavia eagerly. ‘The world-famous one?’
‘No. I told you: that’s in the Museum, back at the crossroa
ds, near the Soma. The Museum is even bigger than the Caesarium. It also has hidden gardens and courtyards, but it’s not gilded.’
As they passed between the twin obelisks at the end of the boulevard, Jonathan’s jaw dropped. A massive harbour lay before them, with a hundred white sails against the sapphire-blue water.
‘Look at that harbour!’ he exclaimed. ‘It’s even bigger than the one at Portus or Rhodes.’
Thonis looked pleased. ‘There are actually five sea harbours here. Eunostus and Cibotus to the west, and this eastern harbour: also called the Great Harbour.’
‘You said five,’ observed Jonathan.
‘Yes. That small island straight ahead – the one shaped like a crescent moon – is called Antirrhodos. It’s like a miniature Rhodes. The little harbour between it and us is the Small Harbour. And over there to the right is the Royal Harbour. In the old days you were only allowed to use it if you were a Ptolemy.’ He pointed to the right. ‘That green promontory beyond the warehouses is called Lochias. It forms the eastern extremity of the Great Harbour. You can see roofs of the Ptolemaic palaces among the palms and cypress trees. Cleopatra’s tomb is there, too.’
‘Cleopatra!’ breathed Flavia.
‘Over there to the west, do you see that causeway that looks like an aqueduct? That is the Heptastadium. It leads from the city to Pharos, the island straight ahead of us. It carries water as well as people, and as you can see, ships are able to sail through its arches.’
‘And it’s over half a mile long?’ asked Flavia.
‘Of course,’ murmured Jonathan. ‘Hepta means seven, and a stade is a unit of distance. Eight stades to a mile . . .’
Lupus grunted and pointed towards a temple overlooking the Small Harbour. It had massive columns of red granite.
Thonis nodded at Lupus. ‘That’s the Poseidium, where we’re going now,’ he said. ‘The Temple of Neptune. Or Poseidon as we call him in Greek.’ He flicked the team into motion and the chariot moved smoothly forward.
The Roman Mysteries Complete Collection Page 220