Chapter 9

‘I had not realized that the Jews had so much to export,’ remarked Voldi.

‘Nor have they,’ agreed Mencius, lowering his voice; ‘but the day will come when the Empire will develop Jewry. Then there will be trade—in plenty.’

‘Meaning that Rome intends a complete subjugation of Judaea?’

‘Well’—Mencius debated how best to say it—’when you’ve seen the new wharves at Caesarea, I think you will come to that conclusion…However, I surmise that any calamity to the Jews would not inconvenience you Arabians very much.’

‘I don’t know, sir,’ said Voldi vaguely. ‘We were persuaded to think so, many years ago, and made a brief alliance, which we regretted.’

Mencius nodded—and shrugged.

‘Of course; I remember. Herod got scared. Married that cad Antipas to your sweet little Princess—broke her heart; sent her home…I had a glimpse of her, once. Beautiful! It has always been a mystery to me, Voldi, why you Arabs didn’t raise more hell about that!’

Voldi flushed a little and muttered that the Arabs were sometimes a bit tardy about paying their debts. After a pause, he added, ‘It’s a long story, Mencius.’

‘I’d like to hear it,’ declared Mencius with an unexpected enthusiasm that proved somewhat disconcerting to the Arabian, who dismissed the matter with a careless flick of his hands.

‘Tell me more about your trip,’ he said. ‘You unloaded the copper at Caesarea, and—’

‘No; I did not unload the copper. As I told you, I had taken my stallion, Brutus, with me. How the big fellow hated those voyages! I left the fleet in the hands of its commander, Fulvius, and rode south to Gaza. There, according to previous arrangement, I found my young fellow, Pincus, with a camel-train ready to start for Engedi. We had dropped Pincus off at Gaza on our north-bound trip to Caesarea…I wanted to see how much of a working force we had in the salt-fields and whether our resources there were adequate.’

‘And now you’re headed back to Rome?’ asked Voldi.

‘No; not quite yet. We load the salt and see it on its way. That will take a week, probably. Then I am riding back to Caesarea to join my friend Antonius, who will be sailing The Augusta to Rome. I’ve had enough of these cargo ships: I’m going home in style. The Augusta is the Emperor’s pleasure barge—and a beautiful ship she is, too.’

When they separated, near midnight, they felt as if they had been friends for years. Mencius was leaving at dawn, anticipating that he might have to lead his horse most of the day. They parted reluctantly. Each man laid his right hand on the other’s left shoulder in a comradely farewell.

‘If ever you find yourself in Rome, Voldi…’ Mencius was saying.

‘Unlikely, sir, but you may be sure I should try to find you… By the way—how would I do that?’

‘Inquire at The Praetorium. They will direct you. Ask for Proconsul Nicator Mencius.’

‘And when you come to Arabia, Mencius, our home is yours. Go to the King’s encampment for directions.’

‘Am I correct in surmising, Voldi, that your family is prominent in Arabia?’

‘My grandfather, Mishma,’ replied Voldi, ‘is King Zendi’s Chief Councillor.’

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