The Seven Wonders: A Novel of the Ancient World (Novels of Ancient Rome) (25 page)

“I can’t imagine. I’ve certainly never been to Gaul. And I don’t suppose you’ve ever been to Rome, have you, Vindovix?”

The Gaul smiled, flashing perfectly white teeth. His eyes were half-shut, as if he were still waking up. His accent was thick and his grammar a bit stilted, but then, so was mine when I spoke Greek, though I liked to think I was getting better. “No, Gordianus, never have I been to Rome.” With a forefinger and thumb he slowly stroked the tips of his moustache. “If I should come, will you let me sleep with you?”

I laughed. “
Stay
with me, I think you mean. Of course.”

Posidonius cleared his throat. “Now think, Gordianus,” he said. “Look at Vindovix’s face, and tell me if it reminds you of anything—perhaps something you’ve seen quite recently, here in Rhodes.”

“Well…” I stared openly at Vindovix, and was a little unnerved at the way he stared back at me, smiling, with his eyes half-shut. “He does look a bit like … but it’s hard to say, because of the moustache.…”

Posidonius raised an eyebrow. “It’s as I’ve told you, Vindovix, you’ll have to shave that thing if you want anyone to see the resemblance.”

The young Gaul sighed. “Vindovix without his moustache—hard to imagine. So many girls back in Gaul would weep if they should hear of such a thing. But very well—perhaps I shave it off tomorrow. You will help me, Cleobulus?” He looked sidelong at the little Rhodian.

Cleobulus made a face. “I am not a barber,” he said. “We have slaves to do that sort of thing.”

Vindovix laughed softly. He seemed to enjoy teasing Cleobulus. “Or maybe, if I just cover my mouth with one hand, like this, and lean to one side, and turn my face away a bit…”

Vindovix stared at me with one pale blue eye, and suddenly I was seeing the face of the Colossus as I first glimpsed it when I sailed into the harbor, with its one eye staring back at me.

“Uncanny!” I whispered.

Antipater leaned forward, his brow furrowed. “He has the face of the Colossus! How can that be?”

Cleobulus grimaced and shook his head. “Ridiculous,” the young Rhodian muttered. “They’re not the least bit alike.”

But our host was pleased. He clapped his hands and laughed.

“Posidonius, please explain,” said Antipater.

“Very well. Now that my little experiment is concluded, I will share the tale. When I was staying with Gatamandix in Gaul, he often asked about the other places I had seen in my travels, and about my home in Rhodes. I was the first Greek who had ever visited the tribe, you see, and none of them had ever traveled beyond Gaul. Imagine my surprise when, as I began to describe to him the landmark for which Rhodes is most famous, it turned out that he knew about the Colossus already. He even knew that it was called the Colossus, and the fact that it represented the sun god. About some things he was mistaken—he didn’t know the Colossus had fallen, for example, and he had a rather exaggerated idea of its actual height, thinking it literally bestrode the harbor, with a foot on each side; well, no statue could be that large. But such garbled details invariably occur when a tale travels a great distance. What amazed me was that he knew anything about the Colossus at all.”

“How had he heard of it?” said Antipater.

“Perhaps I should allow Gatamandix himself to explain.”

The Druid nodded. “As I told Posidonius, the existence of the great Colossus has been known among the Segurovi for many generations—because it was an ancestor of Vindovix who posed for the statue.”

My jaw dropped. I stared at Vindovix, who laughed and slapped his leather-clad knee. “Yes, it was my great-great-great-great-grandfather. He also was named Vindovix.”

“But how is such a thing possible?” I said.

“It’s
not,
” said Cleobulus, clenching his teeth. “At the time the Colossus was made, no Gaul had ever set foot in Rhodes.”

“Actually,” said Posidonius, “it is
just
possible. The fact is, the Gauls first became known to most Greeks when a Gallic chieftain called Cimbaules made an incursion against the Macedonians, a little over two hundred years ago—at exactly the time when Chares began working on the Colossus.”

“I thought the Gauls first invaded Greece some twenty years later than that, when they swept all the way down to Delphi,” said Antipater.

“That was the
second
Gallic incursion,” said Posidonius. “Everyone’s heard of it, because the Gauls caused so much terror and destruction. But there was an earlier invasion—or attempted invasion, I should say, because Cimbaules was soundly repelled by the Macedonians and never reached the Aegean Sea.”

“And was this Cimbaules of the same tribe as Gatamandix and Vindovix?” said Antipater.

“As a matter of fact, he was not,” said Gatamandix. “But among his warriors it seems there was at least one Segurovi, called Vindovix. And when Cimbaules was defeated, this Vindovix was captured and made a slave—”

“But he didn’t die a slave,” said Vindovix. “He was still young and strong when he returned to Gaul—young enough to marry and have a son, my great-great-great-grandfather. That Vindovix had many stories to tell of his time among the Greeks, stories that were passed down from generation to generation, until my father told them to me. The most amazing of those stories was about his time on a great island that he called
Rodos,
where a maker of statues used him as the model for the most gigantic statue ever made, which the Greeks called the
Colosso
. For many days he was made to stand naked, with a crown of sunbeams on his head and a torch in one hand, while the sculptor made a small version of the statue, which was then used to make the big one. My ancestor never forgot the day the
Colosso
was dedicated, and he saw his own image tower above the people of
Rodos
. He realized then and there that he was never meant to be a slave, so he jumped in the water, swam to the mainland, and fought his way home to Gaul.”

“More likely,” said Posidonius quietly, “the sculptor Chares realized it would never do for the fellow to remain on Rhodes. What would people think, if they realized a barbarian slave had been the model for Helios, rather than some famous, freeborn athlete of good Rhodian blood? I suspect Chares gave the slave his freedom and a bit of silver, put him on a ship, and told him never to come back.”

“But, even if we grant that this fantastic story could be true,” said Antipater, “we have no way of knowing what Vindovix’s ancestor looked like.”

“Unless he looked exactly like his descendant, who sits before us,” said Posidonius. “Certain features, and combinations of features, recur in a given bloodline, generation after generation; like begets like. Can it be a coincidence that Vindovix claims his ancestor was the model for the Colossus, and that both you and Gordianus saw Vindovix’s resemblance to the statue?”

“Only after you prompted them,” said Cleobulus. “If this was an experiment, Teacher, your methodology was deeply flawed.”

“To be sure, the outcome of my little experiment was merely suggestive, not conclusive.” Posidonius pressed his fingertips together. “Perhaps we shall learn more when my precious cargo arrives tomorrow.”

“Yes, what is this treasure that Gatamandix and Vindovix went seeking down in Lindos?” said Antipater.

“Now that you’ve seen both the Colossus and Vindovix, and judged the resemblance for yourself, I suppose I can tell you,” said Posidonius. “Gatamandix came with me to Rhodes so that he might learn from his travels, but Vindovix came for a more singular purpose—so that he might see the remains of the Colossus with his own eyes. The story of his ancestor’s role in its creation has been in his family for two hundred years, and when Fate brought a visitor from Rhodes into his life, it seemed to him that he must be destined to come here.

“And then, my brilliant pupil Cleobulus—whose studies include the history of the Colossus—got word of a life-sized statue made of plaster that closely resembles the Colossus, down in Lindos. Might it be a scale model created by Chares himself? No such model has ever been found before. The thing was said to be housed in a farmer’s shed, along with some of Chares’ tools. The farmer apparently had no idea what such artifacts would be worth to a scholar like myself, though I daresay I made a fair offer when I sent Cleobulus down to Lindos to ascertain their authenticity and condition. It seemed only fitting that Vindovix should go with him, along with Gatamandix.”

“And was the plaster statue authentic?” said Antipater.

Cleobulus cleared his throat. “I have every reason to think so. The statue didn’t bear Chares’ mark, but then, he wouldn’t have bothered to put that on a plaster cast, would he? However, tools stamped with the mark of Chares’ workshop were found in the same shed, and also a scroll in a leather case. The document is very faded and brittle, but it clearly shows diagrams and mathematical calculations for enlarging the model to the scale of the Colossus.”

“Marvelous!” said Antipater. “What was the statue’s condition?”

“Except for a few nicks here and there,” said Cleobulus, “and patches of mold and other discolorations on the white plaster, it was in remarkably good shape, considering its age and fragility. It was in a corner of the shed, surrounded by moth-eaten rugs. The old farmer said it had been there since he was a child.”

“But did it look like Vindovix?” I asked.

Cleobulus exchanged a look with the two Gauls. His nostrils flared. Gatamandix’s face was inscrutable. Vindovix looked amused.

“On that, we had a difference of opinion,” said Cleobulus.

“No matter,” said Posidonius. “Barring a storm at sea or some other catastrophe, the ship should arrive in the harbor tomorrow. When the statue is brought here and uncrated, we can stand it side by side with Vindovix, and each of us can judge for himself.”

“What a splendid occasion that will be!” declared Antipater. “A suitable subject for a poem.…

“Thus was the method of Chares revealed,

When upon his model we gazed, eyes peeled—”

Cleobulus glumly shook his head.

*   *   *

After dinner, Posidonius retired to his library. It was his habit to stay up late, reading and writing. Antipater went directly to bed. The two Gauls retired to their guest quarters. Cleobulus, who lived with his parents in a house not far away but was in no hurry to go home, suggested that he and I share some wine and play a few rounds of a Rhodian board game. Away from the Gauls, and after a cup or two of wine, he turned out to be an amiable enough companion, and very good at tossing dice. When I finally won a round, I suspected it was only because he let me.

After conclusively thrashing me in the final round, Cleobulus took his leave and headed home. I visited the latrina at the far corner of the house—Posidonius’s plumbing was as modern as any in Rome—and was heading to my bedroom when I encountered a hulking silhouette.

The passage was lit only by pale moonlight, but there was no mistaking the figure before me. Who else was that big, and had such a mane of coarse hair? Though I could see him only dimly, it appeared that Vindovix was no longer dressed in his strange Gallic costume. Indeed, he appeared to be wearing nothing at all. Perhaps that was how Gauls slept, I thought. Presuming he was on his way to the latrina, I stepped aside to let him pass, but he didn’t move.

“Can you not sleep, either, my Roman friend?” he said.

“I was just going to bed.”

“Alone?”

I shrugged. “Posidonius’s house is very large. I have my own room.”

“So do I. Perhaps you would like to join me?”

“Oh, no, my room is quite comfortable.”

He sighed, sounding exasperated. “At dinner, you said I could sleep with you if I should ever come to Rome.”

“Well, that’s not exactly—”

“Why wait? We can sleep together tonight.”

His meaning at last became clear to me. I looked at the figure before me—more than a head taller than I, and almost twice as broad—and laughed a bit nervously.

“Is it my moustache?” he said. He shook his head. “How you Greeks seem to hate it! I can’t understand. In Gaul, a fine moustache is a mark of manhood. It’s quite an honor, to be allowed to touch another man’s moustache. Here, Gordianus, see for yourself.” He took my hand and raised it to his face.

For an instant, my fingertips made contact with the silky hair above his lip, then I snatched my hand away. I mumbled something about heading to my room. He did not yield at all, and I had to squeeze past him. He snorted, sounding quite disgusted.

I hurried down the passage and around a corner—where I ran into our host, vaguely lit from behind by the glow from his library.

“I fear you’ve offended him, Gordianus,” Posidonius whispered.

“Offended him? I don’t see how. If anything—”

“The Gauls are not like the Greeks, Gordianus, and certainly not like the Romans. They have their own customs about this sort of thing. He was doing you an honor by inviting you to join him.”

“Yes, perhaps, but—”

“And you gave him great offense when you refused. I don’t think he’s used to that.”

“Perhaps not in Gaul, but—”

“Here, step into the library, where we can talk properly.” He led the way. Once there, he offered me a cup of wine, and I did not refuse.

“It’s a curious thing,” he said, taking a sip. “In my opinion, the Gallic women are the most comely of all barbarian females, yet the Gallic men hardly seem to notice them. They’re all mad for each other. They even have a form of marriage between men, but that doesn’t stop them from being wildly promiscuous. Now among the Greeks, there is a long and venerated tradition of intimate relations between comrades in arms, or between an older man and a younger whom he chooses to mentor. But among the Gauls—well, anything goes! Often they sleep in groups at night, rolling around on fur skins until all hours, the more the merrier. The best-looking young men strut about, flaunting their moustaches and brazenly offering themselves to anyone who might be interested. They have no standards at all.”

I frowned, feeling vaguely insulted.

“And if anyone
should
turn him down, a young Gaul takes such rejection as a terrible affront to his dignity. Vindovix is a very proud young fellow. As I say, I don’t think he’s used to being rebuffed.”