2. The Grass Crown Page 31

  At last, thought Sulla as he waited for the Parthian envoys to file off the dais followed by a Tigranes who looked nowhere save at the white marble floor at last I know how Gaius Marius must have felt when Martha the Syrian prophetess foretold that he would be consul of Rome seven times, and be called the Third Founder of Rome. But Gaius Marius is still alive! Yet I have been called the greatest man in the world! The whole world, from India to Oceanus Atlanticus! Not one tiny hint of his jubilation did he display to any other man during the succeeding days; his son, who had been let watch proceedings from a distance, knew only what his eyes had seen, as his ears were beyond hearing distance; in fact, no member of Sulla's own people had been within hearing distance. All Sulla reported was the treaty. This agreement was to be drawn up on a tall stone monument Orobazus planned to place at the spot where Sulla's platform had stood, for it was now dismantled, its precious materials returned from whence they came. The stone was a four-sided obelisk and the terms were inscribed in Latin, Greek, Parthian, and Median, one language upon each side. Two copies were made on Pergamum parchment, for Sulla to take to Rome and Orobazus to take to Seleuceia-on-Tigris, where, Orobazus predicted, King Mithridates of the Parthians would be well pleased. Tigranes had slunk off with the mien of a whipped cur the moment he could secure leave from his suzerains, returned to where his new city of Tigranocerta was having its streets surveyed. His first logical step was to write to Mithridates of Pontus, but he did not for some time. When he did, it was at least with some private satisfaction emerging from the news he had received from a friend at court in Seleuceia-on-Tigris.

  Take heed of this Roman, Lucius Cornelius Sulla, my valued and mighty father-in-law. At Zeugma on the Euphrates he did conclude a treaty of friendship with the satrap Orobazus of Seleuceia-on-Tigris, acting on behalf of my suzerain, King Mithridates of the Parthians. Between them, they have tied my hands, beloved King of Pontus. Under the terms of the treaty they concluded, I am bound to remain to the east of the Euphrates, and I dare not disobey not while that merciless old tyrant your namesake sits upon the throne of the Parthians. Seventy valleys my kingdom paid for my return. Did I disobey, seventy more valleys would be taken from me. Yet we must not despair. As I have heard you say, we are still young men, we have the time to be patient. This treaty of Rome and the Kingdom of the Parthians has made up my mind. I will expand Armenia. You must look to those domains you named Cappadocia, Paphlagonia, Asia Province, Cilicia, Bithynia, and Macedonia. I will look south to Syria, Arabia, and Egypt. Not to mention to the Kingdom of the Parthians. For one day soon old Mithradates the King of the Parthians will die. And I predict that there will then be a war of succession, for he has sat on his sons as he sits on me, and favors none above the others, and torments them with threats of death, and even occasionally does kill one to watch the others hop. So there has been no ascendancy of one son above any of the others, and that is dangerous when an old king dies. This much I do swear to you, honored and esteemed father-in-law that the moment there is internal war between the sons of the King of the Parthians, I will seize my chance and strike out for Syria, Arabia, Egypt, Mesopotamia. Until then, I will continue my work of building Tigranocerta. One further thing I must report to you about the meeting between Orobazus and Lucius Cornelius Sulla. Orobazus told the Chaldaean seer, the Nabopolassar, to scan the palm and face of the Roman. Now I know the work of this Nabopolassar, whose brother is seer to the King of Kings himself. And I tell you, great and wise father-in-law, that the Chaldaean is a true seer, never wrong. When he had done with the hand and face of Lucius Cornelius Sulla he fell upon his stomach and humbled himself to the Roman as he humbles himself to the King of Kings and no other. Then he told Orobazus that Lucius Cornelius Sulla was the greatest man in the world! From the River Indus to the River of Ocean, he did say. And I was very afraid. So too was Orobazus. With good reason. When he and the others got back to Seleuceia-on-Tigris they found the King of the Parthians in residence there, so Orobazus reported what had happened immediately. Including details the Roman had given him about our own activity, mighty father-in-law. And including the Roman's warning that you might look toward the Kingdom of the Parthians to conquer it. King Mithridates took heed. I am strapped with watchers. But the only news which cheers me he executed Orobazus and the Nabopolassar for making more of a Roman than their king. Yet he has decided to honor the treaty, and has written to Rome to this effect. It seems the old man is sorry he never set eyes on Lucius Cornelius Sulla. I suspect had he, he would have employed his executioner. A pity then that he was in Ecbatana. Only the future can show us our fates, my dearest and most admired father-in-law. It may be that Lucius Cornelius Sulla comes no more to the east, that his greatness will be aimed at the west. And it may be too that one day it is I who assume the title, King of Kings. This means nothing to you, I know. But to one brought up at the courts in Ecbatana and Susia and Seleuceia-on-Tigris, it means everything. My dear wife, your daughter, is very well. Our children are well. Would that I could inform you our plans were going well. That is not to be. For the moment.

  Ten days after the parley on the platform, Lucius Cornelius Sulla received his copy of the treaty, and was invited to be present at the unveiling of the monument beside the great milky blue river. He went clad in his toga praetexta, trying to ignore the fact that the summer sun was wreaking havoc upon the skin of his face; this was one occasion upon which he could not wear his hat. All he could do was oil himself and hope the many hours in the sun would not burn him too deeply. Of course they did, a lesson his son absorbed, vowing he too would always wear his hat. His father's misery was acute. He blistered, peeled, blistered again, peeled again, oozed precious water from the healing layers, and scratched, and suppurated. But by the time he and his little army reached Tarsus some forty days later, Sulla's skin was finally beginning to heal and he no longer itched. Morsimus had found some sweet-smelling cream in a market along the Pyramus River; from the time he first anointed himself with it, his skin ceased to plague him. And it healed without a blemish, a fact which pleased Sulla, who was vain. Like the prediction of the Nabopolassar, he told no one, even his son, about the bags of gold. The one he had been given by the King of Osrhoene had been joined by five others, the gift of the Parthian Orobazus. These coins were emblazoned with the profile of the second King Mithridates of the Parthians, a short-necked old man with a nose suitable for catching fish, carefully curled hair and pointed beard, and on his head the little round brimless hat his ambassadors had worn, except that his boasted the ribbon of the diadem and had ear-flaps and neck-shield. In Tarsus Sulla changed his golden coins for good Roman denarii, and found to his amazement that he was the richer by ten million denarii forty million sesterces. He had more than doubled his fortune! Of course he didn't haul bags and bags of Roman coins away from the Tarsian banking house; he availed himself of permutatio and tucked a little roll of Pergamum parchment into his toga instead. The year had worn down, autumn was well under way, and it was time to be thinking of going home. His job was done and done well. Those in the Treasury at Rome who had dowered his war chest would not complain; for there had been ten more bags of gold two from Tigranes of Armenia, five from the King of the Parthians, one from the King of Commagene, and two from none other than the King of Pontus. This meant Sulla could pay his army out and give Morsimus a generous bonus, then put more than two thirds of it into his war chest, now far richer than it had been when he started out. Yes, a good year! His reputation in Rome would rise, and he now had the money to stand for the consulship. His trunks were packed and the ship he had hired was riding at anchor on the Cydnus when he had a letter from Publius Rutilius Rufus, dated in September.