Authors: John Maddox Roberts
Great skill was required to keep the furnaces at exactly the right temperature. Too cool and the solder would not flow. Too high and the gold would melt and all the labor would have to be repeated. The furnaces were under the supervision of a skinny old man dressed only in a linen loincloth who spent his days squatting in front of them, judging their heat by color alone. Beside him squatted a youth he was training to the same exacting skill. At the old man's subtle hand signals the bellows-men quickened or slowed their hauling on the ropes, and the firetenders threw in fresh charcoal or scooped out glowing cinders.
"Have you done other work connected with the new temple?" I asked. "For instance, the goddess's golden wig?"
"No, that would have been done on Cyprus under the supervision of the sculptor."
"I see."That meant only one more call to make.
The establishment of Thyrsites was on the river south of the Sublician Bridge. It was little more than a warehouse equipped with all the tackle necessary for lifting weighty sculpture and stout wagons for transporting them. When the slave at the door announced my arrival, Thyrsites hurried to greet me. Thus far that day I had dealt with a Roman-named Syrian and a Greek-named Egyptian. Thyrsites was a Greek-named Greek, even if he was from Egypt. He begged to know how he could be of assistance.
"I've come at Caesar's behest to inquire about the statue of Venus Genetrix," I informed him.
"Ah! A wonderful work, is it not? Have you seen it?"
"I have. Wonderful, indeed."
"I do hope no harm has come to it?" His concern seemed genuine.
"None that I know of. I just need some information."
"I am at your service."
"First off, how is the pediment made?"
He looked puzzled. "It is simply a solid block of granite porphyry, very highly polished but extremely plain in the Doric fashion as you must have seen. Caesar did not want attention to be distracted from contemplation of the goddess herself."
"Very good. And the statue?"
"The finest Corinthian bronze, hollow-cast, like all large bronze sculpture,
using the lost wax process perfected centuries ago by Rhoecus and Theodoras. In this case the casting was simplified by the top of the head's being left unfinished, since the goddess was to wear a golden wig. Personally, I think this is why so many statues wear wigs or helmets. It makes the casting process less chancy."
"I've wondered about that," I told him. "And this wig, is it cast of solid gold?"
"It is pure gold, but it is all hammer work, no casting. It is quite thin and delicate and was packed in a separate crate. It is fastened to the cranium by pins passing through eyelets behind the ears, quite invisible to a viewer standing below."
"That is all I need to know," I told him, and turned to go.
"But, Senator," he stammered, mystified, "why do you—"
But I was already away. I didn't have to answer to anybody, and the fewer who knew what I knew the better.
My last call of the day was Caesar's house, his temporary home on the Campus Martius. It was getting late, but he greeted me without impatience. "Decius! We will be having dinner soon; perhaps you can join us. I take it you have learned something?'
"I have, Dictator."
"Then you can regale my guests with the tale of your accomplishments."
"That would be unwise, Caesar."
His face clouded. "How so?"
"I am afraid it concerns a woman of your household."
"Slave or freeborn?"
"Patrician. A pure Julian."
He closed his eyes. "Chloe." Then they snapped open again. "How is this possible? I have questioned her girls closely. She never had time to tamper with the aegis and is not strong enough to move it by herself"
"If you will accompany me to the tent where the goddess awaits, I will show you."
Caesar passed instructions to inform his guests that he would be late for dinner, and without so much as a single lictor for company, we went to the treasure camp.
Caesar ordered soldiers to bring torches and lamps for light, then told them to go outside and keep silent. When they had gone, he raised his hands and spoke a prayer in language so archaic that I could make out only a word or two.
I took one of the ladders and propped it against the wooden framework. "She and her temple have not yet been consecrated," I said. "Why do you observe these ceremonies?"
"It is the custom in my family," he said. That was the Caesars for you. They always overdid everything. "What are you doing?'
"I'm relieving the goddess of her wig." Behind her ears I found the split pins and drew them from the raised eyelets. Thus freed, the wig lifted easily. Large as it was, the thin-beaten gold weighed no more than two pounds. Very carefully I descended with it and laid it on the grassy turf. From brow to nape the top of the head of Venus was missing.
Caesar frowned. "I thought the head would be complete, as if it were merely shaved."
"Thyrsites tells me that this way the casting is greatly simplified." I went to the windlass and unwound some rope tipped with a hook. Then I climbed the ladder again, passed hook and rope over the pulley, and lowered it into the goddess's head. "And now, Caesar, if you will give that windlass a few turns?"
He set the thing into creaking motion, and slowly something that resembled a gleaming white cable emerged. When the hook reached the pulley, I tugged the remainder out and spread the hem of the garment over the bronze head and shoulders. Caesar lowered the hook and within moments the goddess was wearing her pearly mantle once more. I restored her wig and stood back to get the full effect. Truly glorious.
"You see how quickly that went?" I said. "With a windlass and pulley, even a weighty object like the aegis can be moved swiftly using only the strength of a child. Of course Chloe was careful to act as if she were ignorant of basic mechanics. She summoned some of your soldiers to assist her in lifting the mantle. Spread the suspicion that way, too."
"She is a clever girl. But I take it she did not plan this on her own?"
"No, she was put up to it by a man who knows his business and has the wherewithal to reward her. Your women really love their pearls, Caesar. Shall we go arrest him now?"
"No, plenty of time in the morning." He clapped me on the shoulder. "Come, Decius, let's have dinner. But," he said ominously, "this will not be among the subjects of dinner conversation." Meaning I was never to speak of this, ever.
The next morning we paid a visit to the manufactory of Considius in the Trans-Tiber district. We dispensed with the polite formalities, and Caesar's lictors bashed the door in with their
fasces
. In the courtyard we found a number of slaves or free craftsmen assembling another aegis apparently identical to the original. We also found Considius, his face gone paler than his pearls.
Caesar surveyed the scene. "As you said, Decius. Congratulations." His tone was almost jovial, a dangerous sign. "A pity you are a citizen, Considius. Citizens can't be crucified. Lucky you."
"But how—" Considius began.
"Chloe let it slip that thirty thousand pearls required something like two hundred eighty yards of fine gold chain. Demaratus told me you ordered a bit more than five hundred sixty yards. Why would you need twice the required chain unless you were making two mantles? You conspired with Chloe to make the original disappear. You knew that Caesar had sworn to have the goddess draped with that mantle in time for his triumph, so he would have to come to you for another. Not bad. Another thirty thousand pearls sold and a generous bonus for a quick job. As a Julian and a priestess of Venus, Chloe could get you access to the new temple at any time so you could retrieve the original, unstring the pearls, and sell them as hundreds of necklaces, earrings, and so on. Pure profit for you, and a nice cut for Chloe, I imagine."
"Considius," Caesar said quietly, "would you like to continue breathing?"
'Very much so, Dictator," the man said.
"Then you will be happy to know that you are donating this splendid new mantle to Pompey's temple of Venus. You will retire to some remote town and hope that I never take an interest in you again. If you had to borrow to purchase all these pearls, I hope you can come to a satisfactory arrangement with your creditors. If word of this matter ever comes out, I will know who talked, and this empire is mine. I will find you."
"As you wish, Caesar." Big drops of sweat poured down his face like a shower of his own pearls.
"A nice gesture," I said to Caesar as we walked back to the Campus Martius. "A mantle for Pompey's temple, I mean. It will go a long way to reconciling you with the old Pompeians."
"He was my son-in-law and my friend. I never would have harmed him. It was young Ptolemy who cut his head off, and for that I killed him. I've never touched his statues or his inscriptions, nor have I torn down his trophies as was done to Marius."
"And now his Venus will have an aegis as fine as yours."
"Not quite," he said. "After all, mine is made of Britannic river pearls, while the other is made of common eastern sea pearls."
"And what will you do to Chloe?"
"Send her to Arpinum and marry her off to some dull clod without political ambition. As I have said before, the women of my household must be above suspicion."
"It used to be just your wife."
"Times change, Decius." And so they did.
These were the events of two days in the year 708 of the City of Rome, during the third Dictatorship of Gaius Julius Caesar.