A stern-faced senator rose and received permission to speak. "Where will we find arms and equipment for all these men? And money to pay for it all?"
"We have plenty of iron and skilled workmen," Gabinius said. "The treasury is full. Besides," he said, smiling, "ten new legions means ten new legionary commanders. Surely we have men who are brave, public-spirited and rich who would jump at the chance to win fame and glory, and who would be happy to part with some of their wealth to see that their men have fine arms and armor and warm cloaks and good boots."
This raised a chuckle, even from the opposition. The tendency of rich men to vie for command positions and to ingratiate themselves with their legionaries through such tactics had grown notorious.
"Gentlemen," Gabinius went on, "the reconquest of Italy must be our priority now, and that reconquest will necessitate eventual war with Carthage. We have no choice. Listen!" He paused dramatically, with a sweeping gesture toward the doorway of the Curia. From without came the rumble of the crowd. "Do you hear that? That is the voice of the Roman people. They demand this of us. Is it because all of them want to return to the land of their ancestors? Not at all. The majority of them are not of Italian ancestry. No, they want this because the immortal gods themselves demand it! For all these months, the omens have continued favorable. If we hesitate, if we fail in this task, the anger of the gods will fall upon us, and what will you tell those people then?"
At this, all fell to speaking in low voices among themselves. Some believed in the veracity of omens, some did not. But all understood the power of omens among the populace. Nothing of importance was done without consulting them. Interpretation of omens was an important function of state officers. Omens and politics were inextricable.
One by one, in order of their ranking in the Senate, the most prestigious senators rose, each to have his say in the matter. As might have been expected, the Old Family senators were unanimously in favor of the march on Italy, although they were less than enthusiastic about the proposed military alliance with Carthage. The New Family patriarchs put up far less protest against the project than they might have a few months before, and they had very little objection to the alliance, especially if it was to be followed by a war of conquest. Already, the prospect of the vast wealth that would inevitably fall into their hands was working on them. The clincher was the speech by the elder Titus Norbanus.
"My honored colleagues," he began, "there is much to be said both for and against this proposal by Publius Gabinius. But, as he has pointed out, any objections must go against the manifest approval of the immortal gods. They make it plain that this project must take place, and it presents Rome with an unprecedented opportunity to rise to the majesty intended by the gods-to be not just the greatest power in this part of the world, but to dominate the entire world. It is our destiny! We have the men and we have the wealth to carry out this conquest. We owe it to our posterity to seize this moment that they, our sons and grandsons, may live as lords of the world!"
There was frantic cheering at these words. Relayed by heralds to the crowd waiting without, the roar grew deafening. Gabinius, Brutus and many others smiled cynically. This seeming reversal of position on the part of the leader of the opposition left much unsaid: Those ten new legions would be raised almost entirely from the population of New Families. The Old Families no longer constituted a majority even in the fourteen traditional legions. This would greatly raise the power and prestige of his following.
And Norbanus's own son would be elevated to greatness. Right now he was the ranking man on the spot in Carthage itself while Scipio was gallivanting off in Egypt. Clearly, old Norbanus wanted to maneuver his son into the major command position in the wars to come. But that was a difficulty to be dealt with later. They had to have his support if they were to retake the Seven Hills.
By nightfall it was decided. The military reoccupation of Italy was to proceed. The ten new legions would be raised. A small deputation of distinguished senators would travel to Carthage to make arrangements for a military treaty with Carthage. All understood that the arrangement was to be strictly temporary.
Roman aims and policy were about to take a radical change in direction.
Chapter 14
The pyramids turned out to be as mind-numbingly huge as the early travelers and historians had reported. The Roman party found themselves duly impressed, but at least these immense heaps of stone were not alarming. The walls of Carthage had been alarming. The tour had taken them far upriver to see the equally stupendous temple complexes near the old capital, Thebes. On the journey upriver they had passed the pyramids by moonlight and had remained aboard. The majestic river itself had been a revelation. They had fancied that the Rhenus and Danuvius were the broadest rivers in the world, but the Nile could have swallowed the flow of both northern rivers without rising appreciably in its banks. Ministers of the king had explained to them about the river's annual flood, depositing the rich silt that made Egypt so wealthy in crops, and the art of surveying that made it possible to reestablish the boundaries of land after each flood. This was the sort of activity the Romans could appreciate. Surveying was something they understood.
All along the river, they saw water-raising machinery such as Marcus had seen in the Museum. With hydraulic screws and buckets moving on endless chains and in rotating wheels, water was raised from the river and dumped into channels that would bear it to the fields. All of Egypt was irrigated, because rain was a great rarity.
Yet, despite the sophisticated machinery, most farmers made do with the most primitive of machines: a long, cranelike shaft with a bucket or skin bag for water on one end, a huge ball of mud on the other as a counterweight. The farmers hauled the bucket down to the river and filled it, then let the counterweight raise the now-full bucket to be pulled in and emptied into an irrigation channel, then the process began again. The peasants performed this labor for hour upon hour, watering their fields one bucketful at a time.
"Machinery is fine," Flaccus remarked, "but it is expensive. Manpower is cheap, and Egypt seems to have no end of manpower."
Indeed, they had never seen a land as densely populated as Egypt. The whole nation was really just a narrow strip of green land bordering the river. No more than a mile from the river's banks, the cultivated land ended and the desert began with startling abruptness. Within that narrow strip of green land lived millions of Egyptians, all but a handful of them members of the peasant class whose toil produced the nation's astounding wealth.
"The river is their life," Brutus said one day, "but that desert is their security. They've never had to face anything worse than raids by desert tribes. Egypt doesn't share borders with any nation possessing a real army. In the northeast, they have the Sinai as a buffer zone between Egypt and the Seleucids. In the northwest, Libya amounts to nothing and separates them from Carthage."
Scipio nodded. "It's how they can maintain so dense a population. The land is never ravaged by war and they don't need to use the young men as soldiers. They can spend their whole lives doing nothing but farm."
"What a strange place," Caesar said. "It doesn't seem natural." He waved an arm toward the shoreline, where life was pursued as it had been without change for thousands of years. "It seems too …" He tapered off.