And so, in his victory march across the liberated lands, I followed in the king’s retinue, but not among the luminaries of his court. Instead of taking my rightful place alongside the famous scholars, philosophers, astrologers, and Magi, I, Antipater of Sidon, was relegated to the outermost circle of the court. I found myself surrounded by jugglers and acrobats, sniveling sycophants and hangers-on of the lowest sort!
Then there is the matter of my relations with the king’s wife, a sly young minx called Monime. Hardly more that a child she looks, but what a schemer! The little queen bends the will of the king this way and that, as if he were her plaything, and he doesn’t even realize it. Worst of all, she took an instant disliking to me. No doubt she saw the look of reciprocal loathing on my face, and marked me at once as her enemy. And those whom Monime dislikes have a way of leaving this world sooner rather than later.
Now we have arrived in Ephesus, where with great pomp and ceremony the king has appointed Monime’s father, Philopoemen, royal overseer of the city. While the king is busy plotting his next military campaign, the little queen and her father wield absolute power over Ephesus. As long as I remain here, I know …
[This fragment ends in mid-sentence. A portion of the diary appears to be missing, after which the text resumes, again in mid-sentence.]
… is in an even worse dilemma than myself, it would be the Romans who remain in Ephesus. Thousands already lived here, and thousands more fled to this city ahead of the king’s arrival, hoping to escape by ship to the island of Rhodes, which remains loyal to the Romans. But even with their decks crammed to overflowing, there were not enough ships to carry so many refugees. Many Romans-thousands of them-remain in Ephesus. Some are longtime residents who go about their business as best they can, but many are homeless. They fill the temples to overflowing, seeking sanctuary and crying out for the protection of the gods.
So it is, not just in Ephesus but in all the cities up and down the coast. Where Roman magistrates and merchants once held sway, they now find themselves stripped of their power and at the mercy of Mithridates. How low our former masters have fallen! What shall become of them now?
* * *
Eutropius, my host here in Ephesus, has just given me shocking news.
He says he has been approached by one of the king’s agents, who swore him to secrecy upon pain of death. According to this agent, the king is determined to exterminate every remaining Roman under his control-not just in Ephesus, but in all the liberated cities, and not in stages, but in a single, vast slaughter, occurring everywhere on the same day. Eutropius, as one of the leading citizens of Ephesus, is to be enlisted in this secret enterprise.
The magnitude of such a massacre is almost unimaginable. There must be tens of thousands of Romans remaining in the lands King Mithridates has liberated from Roman control. Eutropius estimates the number to be as high as eighty or even a hundred thousand! Is it even possible those eighty thousand unsuspecting human beings, living hundreds of miles apart, could all be slaughtered in a single day, upon the order of a single man?
I thank the gods that my erstwhile traveling companion, young Gordianus, is not here with me-any time he spoke a word of Greek, his atrocious Latin accent always gave him away as a Roman! His friendship with myself and with Eutropius would afford him no protection if this butchery takes place, for no Roman is to be spared. Men and women, the old and the young-if the king has his way, all will be killed, without exception and without mercy. And all in a single day!
Ah, Gordianus, as much as I miss you, how glad I am that you are far from this place, safe in Alexandria where I left you, or perhaps even back in Rome with your father. Tonight I shall go to the Temple of Artemis and sacrifice to the goddess, with a prayer that you may remain far, far away from the catastrophe about to occur here in Ephesus.…
[Here ends this fragment from the secret diary of Antipater of Sidon.]
I
I, Gordianus of Rome, was living a few miles to the west of Alexandria that summer, in a house on the beach next to a small fishing village.
My hosts were the owners of the house, two eunuchs who had retired from the Egyptian royal court, Kettel and Berynus. When King Ptolemy lost control of Alexandria and the city became too wild and lawless even for a footloose young Roman like me, the eunuchs invited me to stay with them for a while, and I gladly accepted. I shared a room with my slave, Bethesda. The room was quite small, but the bed was just large enough for two.
From the rooftop terrace of the house, looking east over the sand dunes and up the coastline, we had a clear view of the skyline of Alexandria in the distance. Most prominent was the towering Pharos Lighthouse in the harbor; its fiery beacon was visible for many miles, both day and night. The Temple of Serapis, situated atop the city’s highest hill in the quarter nearest to us, was also easy to make out. The rest was all a jumble of obelisks and rooftops surrounded by the high city wall.
“No smoke today,” noted Kettel, whose massive bulk threatened to overflow even his commodious dining couch. It seemed to me that he had gained even more weight since his retirement. His appetite was certainly as voracious as ever. When Bethesda mounted the stairs from the kitchen and approached carrying a steaming platter of grilled fish, he eagerly took a helping.
Berynus, who was as slender as Kettel was fat, looked toward the skyline and squinted. “There’s been no smoke-and so presumably no rioters-since the day King Ptolemy sailed off, even as his brother, our new king, marched into town with that huge army of his.” He turned up his nose at the fish and waved Bethesda on. “Are we to conclude that the chaos is ended and the civil war is really, truly over?”
“Hardly!” Kettel chomped and snorted. “The old king will still have some fight in him. Just because he’s fled into exile doesn’t mean he’s given up the throne. If he can somehow raise an army, he’ll be back. Unless, of course, he loses his head in the meantime.”
“Always a possibility,” said Berynus, nodding grimly.
“They say the city has calmed down considerably since the new king’s arrival,” I said. “It may actually be safe to walk the streets again.” Bethesda stepped toward me and held forth the platter of fish, from which I took a modest portion. Her back was to my hosts, who could not see as she dared to lift a morsel to her own lips and nibble at it, giving me a sly smile as she did so. I sighed. What a poor excuse for a Roman I was, unable to control the only slave I possessed.
“I was thinking I might venture into the city tomorrow,” I said.
“Whatever for, Gordianus?” asked Kettel, smacking his lips. “Do you not have all that you need here? Good food, good company, long walks on the beach to pass the day, and the murmur of the surf to lull you to sleep at night.”
“If indeed our bearded young friend gets much sleep,” Berynus muttered under his breath, raising an eyebrow and casting a sidelong glance at Bethesda as she retreated down the steps to the kitchen to fetch more food and drink. Her black hair, glistening in the sunlight, was so long that it almost reached her hips, which swayed provocatively as she descended out of sight.
“The harbor seems to be rather busy again, since the old king fled,” I said. “With all those ships coming and going, I was thinking a letter might have arrived for me.”
“A letter?” With his fleshy forefinger Kettel poked at a bit of fish that threatened to escape from between his lips.
“Yes, perhaps there’s a letter … from my father.”