The Alexandrian Embassy Read Free Page B

bereft of yesterday’s clouds, bathing the Seven Hills in a spring morning glow, thedoor was opened by an exceedingly attractive youth with blond hair, the length of which was countered by the shortness of his tunic. Magnus was first through the door.
    â€˜Magnus, my friend,’ Gaius Vespasius Pollo boomed, not getting up from the sturdy chair set in the centre of the atrium in front of the
impluvium
with its spluttering fountain. He brushed a carefully tonged ringlet of dyed black hair away from his porcine eyes glittering in a hugely fat face.
    â€˜Good morning, sir; er … you require a service, I believe.’
    â€˜Yes, yes, but I’ll talk to you about it later. In the meantime my steward will give you a list of Jewish requirements and customs.’ Gaius gestured to a slightly older version of the youth on the door who bowed his head to Magnus. ‘Oh, and he’ll also have one of my lads read it for you seeing as you, well, you know.’
    â€˜Can’t read,’ Magnus said, his confusion plain upon his face.
    â€˜Indeed,’ Gaius replied, already looking to the client next in line.
    â€˜Philo!’ Magnus exclaimed as he walked beside Gaius, processing with his two hundred, or so, clients accompanying him down the Quirinal. ‘You mean the brother of Alexander, the Alabarch of the Alexandrian Jews?’
    â€˜The very same,’ Gaius puffed; although he had set a sedate pace he was already sheened with sweat. His jowls, breasts, belly and buttocks wobbled furiously to different rhythms beneath his senatorial toga as he waddled behind Cassandros and Tigran with their staves at the ready to beat a path for him should the way become too crowded.
    â€˜What’s he doing in Rome?’
    â€˜He’s been here since the start of the sailing season. He’s heading an embassy of Alexandrian Jews to the Emperor to complain about the way Flaccus, the Prefect of Egypt, handled the riots between the Jews and the Greeks in Alexandria last year.’
    â€˜I saw them, I was there with Vespasian, stealing Alexander’s breastplate from his mausoleum for Caligula because Flaccus refused to hand it over.’
    â€˜Of course you were; so you know what the riots were like, then?’
    â€˜Well, according to Philo, they were an outrage because, how did he put it? The Jews were scourged with whips by the lowest class of executioner as if they were indigenous country dwellers, rather than with rods wielded by Alexandrian lictors as was the entitlement of their rank.’
    â€˜What?’
    â€˜Yes, that was his main complaint. Forget the fact that his sister-in-law had to be put out of her misery by her own husband because she had been flayed alive and had no chance of survival, or that gangs of Greeks dragged Jews off to the theatre to crucify them and then set fire to the crosses. No, he was more concerned about the etiquette of beating and how some of his acquaintances were not accorded the dignity of the rod, as he put it. An arsehole as far as I could make out and a pompous one at that.’
    â€˜Yes, well, he is the arsehole, pompous or not, that Vespasian wants you to … look after, shall we say, for the next few days.’
    â€˜Why?’
    â€˜Because no one else will. He’s either refused or got rid of, on religious grounds, everyone that Cossa Cornelius Lentullus, the Urban Prefect, has provided for his safety. Not wanting to take the blame should something happen to Philo and his embassy, Lentullus passed on responsibility to Corbulo, the Junior Consul, who in turn immediately passed it down the line to Vespasian, in his capacity as one of the Urban Praetors this year. Corbulo is well aware that Vespasian has a relationship with the family from his time in Alexandria and therefore perhaps has some influence over Philo. So Vespasian, naturally, is anxious that Philo should not wander around the city unattended as he is likely to cause offence