Had it been a temple, it would have been of but middling size. But it was not a temple. It was a boat, but such a boat as they had never dreamed of. Half as long as a stadium, its superstructure was a palace three stories high, with tall pillars and a pitched roof, pillars and roof alike gilded, with carved frieze and pediment bright with paint, and between the pillars instead of walls there hung curtains of costly fabric or chain mesh of silver and gold. This incredible structure was situated atop twin hulls, each greater than the largest warship they had yet seen.
"Well," Marcus said, "it floats. I'll believe it moves when I see it."
So stunning was the barge that they scarcely noticed the crowd of people aboard it, colorful and striking though they were. There were hordes of seminude dancing girls, giants and dwarfs, transvestites of both sexes, apparent hermaphrodites, women wreathed in ivy vines like maenads, men in leopard skins, persons in the regalia of native Egyptian priests, foaming priestesses in transports of prophetic ecstasy, boys swinging smoking censers on long chains, towering black guardsmen with zebra-hide shields and carrying spears with blades as long and keen as swords. And these were only the ones that first caught the eye.
"So this is the royal court," Flaccus said. "Looks to be a lively place."
"Keep your faces straight," Marcus instructed them. "Act only politely impressed, and try not to laugh."
A man dressed in an odd combination of Greek and Egyptian court robes came down the gangplank to greet them. His face was heavily painted and he wore a square-cut black wig dusted with gold powder. He clasped his hands before his breast and bowed deeply.
"Welcome, envoys of Roma Noricum," he trilled. "I am Dion, Second Eunuch to the court of King Ptolemy. His Majesty is most anxious to meet you."
"Took his time about satisfying his anxiety," muttered Caesar.
"We are most eager to open negotiations with your king," Marcus said.
"Then, if you would be so good as to follow me, gentlemen."
The eunuch led them up the ramp and boys fell in beside them, swinging censers to cover them with fragrant smoke. Barely nubile girls draped them with wreaths and slaves dipped bundles of withies into golden bowls of rose water and sprinkled them with the mild perfume. Dark young women wearing golden belts and nothing else unrolled a scarlet carpet before their feet as flower petals sifted down from the ceiling.
They entered the great interior hall of the vessel and found that its ceiling was a full three stories up, the upper two floors forming balustraded galleries. Massed at the railings were more of the bizarre inhabitants of the Ptolemaic court, but the Romans would not crane their necks to gawk at them. Ahead, at the end of the long room, sat enthroned the King of Egypt, Ptolemy Alexander Philadelphus Eupator, fourteenth monarch of his line by the official count, although pretenders and doubtful or delegitimized heirs had been plentiful.
The boy sat rigidly, encased in court robes of stiff linen embroidered with gold thread, magnificent jewelry, wearing the simple diadem of Hellenistic royalty, holding crossed before him the crook and flail of the pharaohs. Young as he was, his expression was neither childlike nor truly adult, but rather a sort of reserved wariness, as if he had seen little in his short life to inspire him with confidence.
"Your Majesty," said the Second Eunuch, "I present the envoys from Roma Noricum."
"We are pleased to receive men of such distinction," the boy intoned, as if the formula were some prayer that he chanted without thought.
A man who stood at the king's right hand came forward. "I am Eutychus, the First Eunuch. I will accept your credentials and present them to His Majesty."
At Marcus's signal Caesar came forward with their documents and placed their documents into the soft hands of the eunuch. He was careful to avoid touching the half-man's flesh. Eutychus showed the documents to the king but the gesture was symbolic. The king barely glanced at them.
"These presents merit our closest study and I am certain that we shall find all in proper order," said young Ptolemy. "In the interim, please accept my humble hospitality." This he said with more enthusiasm.
At a gesture of his flail, a horde of slaves appeared, the first wave of them bearing furniture: chairs and couches, cushions and drapery. Many carried legs and struts and lengths of wood, and with amazing speed they assembled long tables down the length of the great room. A higher table was set before the throne, at right angles to the lower boards. The Romans barely had time to marvel at the splendid, exotic wood, inlaid with ivory and mother-of-pearl, before it was covered with cloths no less valuable.
With equal efficiency, staff-bearing stewards conducted the Roman party to their places at the high table. The couches were covered with cushions stuffed with rare herbs and no sooner had their feet left the floor than they were relieved of their sandals. Simultaneously, basins were held beneath their hands and water poured over them from pitchers of finely wrought gold. Food appeared as if by the working of some subtle god.
Where, Marcus wondered, was all this food coming from? They had seen no smoke rising from the barge, so there was no kitchen aboard, at least none equal to this prodigy of cookery. Lines of slaves filed in, each bearing a tray or bowl of some delicacy, even more elaborate than the viands they had enjoyed in Carthage. The slaves seemed to be organized in regiments distinct as to nation and costume: Blacks with sooty skin dressed in leopard-skin kilts and feathered headbands carried the fruits. Fish came in carried by Greeks dressed in white chitons. Brawny, pale-skinned northerners wearing fanciful fur loincloths, their arms and necks encircled by rings of bronze brought in meats. They worked in teams of four, bearing gigantic platters upon which rested entire roasted animals, some of them quite unknown to the Romans.
If their soldiers were as well trained and disciplined as their slaves, Marcus thought, these people would rule the world. Even as he thought this, a team of sleek, near-naked men rushed in, waving long, curved, swordlike knives. Behind them were girls in wispy tunics, with double flutes in their mouths, the instruments bound by ribbons tied be-hind their heads. In time with the rhythmic music of the flutes, the men carved the roasts, their movements as graceful as those of dancers, reducing the smoking carcasses to steaks and slices and tiny chunks with incredible speed and skill.
"It's stifling in here," Ptolemy complained, sounding for the first time like the boy he was. A steward clapped his hands and the curtains between the columns rose silently to reveal an expanse of water stretching in all directions. The Romans stuffed food into their mouths to keep from gasping. The immense barge had set out upon the water and they had not noticed. At the stern, Marcus saw another barge connected by a broad gangway. It was from this barge that the slaves were carrying the provisions for the banquet. Even as he watched, the gangway rose and the barge backed away. Behind it were others, doubtless bearing the other necessities required by the Alexandrian court while roughing it on the water.
"How is this vessel propelled?" Marcus asked. "I hear no oars working."
Eutychus smiled indulgently. "First, enjoy and refresh yourselves with a little food and wine. Later, you shall have a tour of this pleasure-barge."
"Is there more than one?" Flaccus wanted to know.
"There are a score or so," said the eunuch. "This one is specially designed for banqueting. Others are for sightseeing or sport or for the king's personal use."
"We thought all you Romans were dead," Ptolemy said, picking sullenly at a dish of eels in some sort of dark sauce.
"Quite a few of us are still alive," Marcus said. "The mainland Greeks we trade with could have told you, but I suppose they had their reasons for keeping our existence to themselves."