I had grown up surrounded by the architecture of Rome and the temples, basilicae and fora of my home city were some of the finest in the world. Sinope was even older and I remembered Gennadius teaching me that it had originated as a Hittite colony hundreds of years ago. Building and rebuilding had lent it a strange geography and the winding streets contrasted sharply with its huge temples and massive squares. Unlike Rome, all the buildings in Sinope were constructed of pale yellow sandstone peculiar to that southern coast of the Black Sea. It made the streets bright in the sunlight and many people wore hoods in the day both to see better and to cool themselves down.
They had built the city on a peninsula and thick, high stone ramparts surrounded it. Sea walls that hemmed in the city protected it on the seaward side. The docks were prolific. It was as if the Pontics had reproduced Ostia ten times in scale and the amount of sea traffic must have been a nightmare to control.
The Royal Palace was a huge building. The marbled steps at the front and the massive entranceway were only a part of the enormous structure. No one could fail to be impressed by the sheer size of the building. They had built it on three levels each supported by massive marble columns. Every time I visited, Hypsicratea would entertain me in a different part of the palace. Most often, we ate and talked reclining on the terraces. There were gardens and a small apple orchard where Hypsicratea and I sometimes walked.
It was the day before my departure for the reclamation of the Pontic treasure and Hypsicratea and I were walking in the palace grounds. I could hear sea birds calling in their high-pitched tones high above us and could smell the faint spicy smell of food cooking wafting on a cool breeze.
‘You know Aulus, I never thought that we could become such good friends. It has meant a lot to me to have you to talk to and laugh with. My life has always been so serious and verging on austere,’ she said.
‘It matters to me too. You know I value your friendship above almost all others.’
‘Almost?’
‘I suppose that is no compliment. I’ll rephrase it. Above all others. You will never know just what I feel for you.’
‘We can’t become too friendly you know.’
‘How do you mean?’
‘I am married.’
‘I know that. I hope you don’t think…’
She looked at me then with those dark eyes and I hoped I had not ruined everything.
‘My husband will never return you know. Rome is too powerful. All I can do is to stay here and try my best to make sure that your people do not oppress my subjects too much.’
‘Why do you think Mithradates will never come back?’
‘Something the Parthian ambassador said.’
‘Oh?’
‘My husband is almost a prisoner in the court of Tigranes. The Armenians, who promised us aid, refuse to join my husband in the war. He has no other allies and nowhere to run. He will never be at peace, and I am here alone.’
‘I wish I could comfort you in some way.’
‘Your very presence is a comfort to me. I value your friendship even though there are certain risks.’
‘I too risk being seen as a traitor. If there were a breach of security, I might easily be accused of having said too much. Not that I know much, but all the same there is that risk.’
‘Life without risk is no life at all as my husband used to say.’
‘Do you really think you will always be alone?’
‘Yes. Sometimes I despair. I sometimes wish I could run away and just be me, not a Queen, no responsibilities.’
‘Why don’t you?’
‘It is simple. I love my people, I love this land and I have to put them first. Without their Queen my people would just be vassals of Rome and have no identity.’
‘No, they would still be who they are. Do you really believe that simply having a Queen is what makes them Pontic? Surely it is their history, their language and culture that gives them their identity?’
‘Aulus you are such a strange man. You are only a simple soldier but you talk like an intellectual’
‘My Greek tutor taught me well. He often said that even simple men can have complex thoughts.’
‘He was right you know. But such men often cannot express those thoughts.’
‘Then I am twice lucky. Not only do I express myself well enough but I have you to hear what I say.’
‘We are both lucky. Without you here, I would be stuck in a continuous tedium of talking with people who try to impress me all the time. You have no idea how bored and lonely I get.’
‘I do understand,’ I said.
We had reached the terrace where the palace servants had prepared the meal. I was living like a king, I thought. Did I a simple legionary really have a right for this beautiful young woman to entertain me and allow me to glimpse this life of luxury? That I would do anything to be in Hypsicratea’s company was obvious, but I had not realised what it was doing to my hopes and expectations of life. I had never before set my sights higher than being a good soldier. I now wanted this kind of life but it should have been clear even to me that it was not attainable nor would it ever become so.
There was a small table set between the two divans on the terrace. Jugs of wine and water were set upon it and a servant poured wine for me as I reclined looking out on the seascape below us. Birds drifted on the wind and there was a flat calm, the sea reflecting the last of the sun’s golden rays. We started with eggs, simple boiled eggs but a real treat to most Romans who often start dinners in that way. A variety of dishes then appeared, pickled fish in an herb sauce and roast meat with a variety of vegetables.
In my mind, I compared it to the food we ate on the march to Pontus and I smiled an involuntary smile.
‘Why do you smile?’
‘I’m sorry; it was only that when we march we live off corn porridge. It gives us energy and you can’t get dysentery from it. I always look forward to my meal times when we march. I don’t think I will ever see porridge in the same way now.’
‘Perhaps I should send one of my cooks to accompany you when you march away from Pontus?’
‘I don’t think it would go down very well if you did. The whole purpose of soldiering is to all conform so that no one is different. We can all function as one body that way.’
‘I was joking you know.’
‘I know, but it was such a tempting thought.’
We looked at each other and grinned. I loved being with her and I was now sure that she liked me too. I wanted to take her in my arms so much but the invisible barrier of possible rejection and its consequences stood between us, tall, ethereal, daunting. It was an unassailable barrier and I knew it.
‘I’m leaving tomorrow,’ I said.
‘For the treasure?’
‘Yes.’
‘I will be surprised if your navy can get it. It’s at the bottom of the sea. How do they propose to do it?’
‘The engineers seem quite optimistic. They are going to try to float it using air bladders.’
‘That would be quite an achievement. I hope the corsairs do not find out. They have a powerful presence on our coast.’
‘So do we. We can fight them off if we need to.’
‘You will be careful Aulus?’
‘Of course. You seem concerned.’
‘You know I care for you. I would not like to lose such a good friend now that I have found you.’
I looked at her and wondered. If she could have read my thoughts, I would have been utterly embarrassed. As it was, I could not help but think that perhaps she was playing a game with me. We both enjoyed time together and the more time we spent in each other’s company the deeper my desire drew me in. I spent almost every waking moment thinking of her and as I walked home, I pictured how it would be to desert and hide in the palace with her. To be with Hypsicratea, all day, every day and make love to her. It was my idea of Elysium.
I went to sleep that night to the sound of Junius snoring and still I thought about the Queen. I clasped the amulet. I ran my finger over the ridges in the silver wire. It turned my mind to matters of real significance in my life. I realised with reluctance that I had my duty to Rome and to my family name and that desertion was not an option, but as Somnus began to grasp me, I imagined how it would be if I ran away. A pleasant fantasy began to form in my head, of holding hands with Hypsicratea as we walked along a beautiful beach a passionate kiss and a long embrace.