Wrath of the Furies by Steven Saylor Read Free Book Online Page B

but faded and worn in places, as if it might be very old. A hand-me-down from the king’s forebears, worn for sentimental reasons, I thought. Then, with a gasp, I realized what this garment must be—the purple cloak of Alexander himself! This fabled cloak was said to be among the vast inventory of items seized by Mithridates when he took the island of Cos, a place where a number of kings and nations kept treasuries remote from themselves and therefore thought to be safe, for Cos had long been sacrosanct; even the Romans had never dared to loot any of the treasuries there. But Mithridates had done so, and among the booty had been the treasury of Egypt, which contained not only fabulous jewels and stores of precious metals, but the most sacred heirlooms of the Ptolemy family, including the cloak worn in life by Alexander, which no one since had dared to wear. Now it adorned the shoulders of Mithridates.
    I looked at the queen, who appeared hardly older than a child. Indeed, at first glance I thought she might be one of Mithridates’s daughters. But the intimate looks and touches they exchanged soon enough dispelled that notion. I suppose the queen is beautiful (clearly the king thinks so), but my first impression was formed by the look in her eyes—the restless, rapacious eyes of some predatory beast, more dangerous than beautiful.
    Joining the king on the stage and seated to his right and left were the closest members of the royal circle, including childhood friends who now served as the king’s generals, and the most influential stargazers, shamans, seers, and philosophers of the court. The Grand Magus and many lesser Magi were present. There was even a Scythian snake charmer—with a snake around his neck! In search of reliable prophecy and divination, the king reaches to the farthest corners of his kingdom.
    How I longed to be a part of that inner circle! The next time such an assembly gathered, surely Antipater of Sidon, the world’s most renowned poet and a loyal servant of the king, would be seated among the other luminaries of the court.
    At some point I turned and looked behind me, craning my neck to gaze up to the highest tier of seats. The great amphitheater at Pergamon is said to have the steepest seating of any theater in the world, and to accommodate more than ten thousand spectators. On this occasion it was filled to capacity. What wonders and marvels had Mithridates devised to entertain such a huge audience?
    At first we were treated to some trifling amusements—parades of jugglers and acrobats, dancing boys, female contortionists, men who swallowed coals and belched out flames, and so on. These entertainers were the finest of their sort, but they only served to warm up the crowd.
    The main attraction commenced with a crier who read out the names of the cities that Mithridates had liberated from Roman oppression. Banners representing each city were paraded on the stage before us—Ephesus, Tralles, Adramyttion, Caunus, and many more. The list ended with Pergamon. When a statue of the city’s patron goddess, Athena, was wheeled across the stage, ten thousand people rose to their feet, cheering wildly—everyone except the queen and Mithridates, who remained seated on his throne but raised both arms to acknowledge the accolades of the crowd.
    There followed a parade of spoils taken in battle from the Romans, including not only weapons and armor, but also catapults and spear-launchers. The crier shouted the details of where each of the spoils had been taken, recounting the number of Roman dead or captured at each battle.
    There was also a parade of chariots from Mithridates’s own army, notable for the long, sickle-shaped blades that projected from the axles. The scythed chariot was a weapon of legend, invented by Cyrus the Great but not seen for generations. Mithridates had surprised the Romans with his own version of this terrible weapon, which mowed through their lines