Ever the Twins Shall Meet

Ever the Twins Shall Meet

A novel by

C. Norman Noble

Ever the Twins Shall Meet

Copyright © 2008, C. Norman Noble

All rights reserved

ISBN 13: 978-0-9786971-9-8

(E-Pub platform)

Smashwords Edition – February, 2012

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Book and Cover Design: OPA Author Services, Chandler, Arizona

Published by Ironwood Publishing, Chandler, Arizona

c/o C. Norman Noble at normnoble@gmail.com

Ever the Twins Shall Meet

Sequel to Changing of the Gods

Cast of Characters

Principal Characters

Postumus Calvus Marsallas -- Son of Lucius and Sentia

Gnaeus Calvus Crispus (re-named Dexius) -- Twin brother of Marsallas; son of Lucius and Sentia

Atilius -- A prisoner – new friend of Marsallas

Varro -- Centurion who pursues Marsallas

Cennet -- Farmer’s daughter {in Turkish, name means Heaven}

Epicydes – Wheat Farmer – father of Cennet

Secondary Characters

Aemilius Calvus Lucius - Father of Marsallas and Son of Marcus

Aemilius Calvus Marcus - Father of Lucius – Retired General of the Korinthian legion

Brennus -- Former slave in the Calvus’ household, now free

Gellius -- Stranger met along the road to Pergamum

Musa – Brother of Gellius

Plocamus -- Ruffian who pledged revenge on Lucius in Korinthos—father of Dexius

Sentia -- Mother of Marsallas

Others

Ancus -- Leader of Christian church in Smyrna

Adnan – Slave burned in the fire

Alypius -- Petty thief—friend of Dexius

Brocchus -- Slave owned by Epicydes

Burcanius – Legionnaire who posed as prisoner

Clovius -- Minor character sent to find Dexius in Smyrna

Danladi -- Prisoner in Roman work group

Diotimus -- Leader of the Pergamum insurrection

Epidia -- Sister of Dexius

Fabius -- Deputy Centurion under Varro

Fadius -- Senior Centurion of the Roman centurions stationed in Pergamum

Gaius and Aristarchus -- Companions of the Apostle Paul

Glycon -- Roman Spy sent to infiltrate insurrectionist group

Hengest -- Leader of the second rebel insurrection

Larcia -- Girl in Smyrna who hides Dexius

Murcan -- Cousin of Danladi

Titus Flavius Domitianus (Domitian) -- Emperor--A.D. 81-96

Manius Scribonius Auxilius -- Family friend of Lucius, Sentia, etc.

Calventius Pansa -- Acting Tribune in charge of the Pergamum garrison bearing the title of Praefectus Castrorum

Quartus -- Slave owned by Epicydes

Rufius Augustus -- Senior Tribune of the Legion – bearing the title of Primus Pilus Iterum

Nicander -- One of the rebels

Pedanios Dioscorides -- Renowned physician, historical father of herbal medicine

Papinius -- Man who finds the injured Lucius

Orthrus -- Magistrate

Cordius -- Friend of Papinius

Chilo -- Man killed at the mill

Nicia -- Son of Chilo

Names underlined = the names by which they are called

Roman Names

The Tria Nomina system was important in distinguishing between Citizens, non-citizens peregrimus and slaves, who generally had only one name. By the first century, Roman men had three names, Praenomen, Nomen, and Cognomen (e.g., Postumus Calvus Marsallas). 

The Praenomen was relatively unimportant, and was rarely used on its own. The Praenomen was frequently the same as the father's. Many of the praenomen used by male citizens were abbreviated to one or two characters; Gaius (C.), Gnaeus (Cn.), Lucius (L), Marcus (M), Publius (P), Sextus (S), Titus (T), etc.

The Nomen was termed as the Nomen-Gentilicum and was the family name of the gens or clan and usually ended in -ius. It was the second of the three names normally adopted by a Roman Citizen. Using a well-known nomen like Julius was fine because there were non-noble branches of famous families, and freed slaves took the names of their former owners.

The Cognomen was the third of the three names of a Roman Citizen. It was a nickname or personal name; that name which distinguished an individual from all those relatives who might happen to share his or her praenomen and nomen. Often the cognomen was chosen based on some physical or personality trait. Many cognomen sounded quite similar with only one or maybe two different letters in the spelling to differentiate them (Aquila - Aquilius - Aquillius, or Crispian - Crispin - Crispus.) This is not unlike our modern names that can also sound the same, but with minor spelling differences to indicate different families. The cognomen was not universal until about the first century BC, hence names like Gaius Marius.

As Rome continued to conquer territories beyond the Italian peninsula, many foreign names were introduced. Discharged auxiliary soldiers and others gaining Roman Citizenship could, and many would, continue to use at least a portion of their former names. Non-citizen auxiliary soldiers, who were granted citizenship, often adopted the nomen of their Emperor, adding their native name as a cognomen.

GLOSSARY

Days of the Week

Solis (Sunday) – Sun

Lunae (Monday) – Moon

Martis (Tuesday) – Mars

Mercurii (Wednesday) – Mercury

Jovis (Thursday) – Jupiter

Veneris (Friday) – Venus

Saturni (Saturday) – Saturn

Roman Months Of The Year

Janus, Roman god of doors, beginnings, sunset and sunrise, had one face looking forward and one backward (January)

Februarius, Latin to purify. On February 15, the Romans celebrated the festival of forgiveness for sins; (February)

Martius, Mars was the Roman god of war (March)

Aprilis, perhaps derived from aperire, to open, as in opening buds and blossoms) or perhaps from Aphrodite, original Greek name of Venus (April)

Maius, Roman goddess Maia was mother of Mercury by Jupiter and daughter of Atlas (May)

Junius, named after Juno, queen of the gods (June)

Julius, renamed for Julius Caesar in 44 BC, who was born this month; Quintilis, Latin for fifth month, was the former name--the Roman year began in March rather than January (July)

Augustus, formerly Sextilis (sixth month in the Roman calendar), re-named in 8 BC for Caesar Augustus (August)

Septem, Latin for seven--the seventh month in the Julian or Roman calendar, established in the reign of Julius Caesar (September)

Octo, Latin for eight—the eighth month in the Julian calendar. The Gregorian calendar instituted by Pope Gregory XIII established January as the first month of the year (October)

Novem, Latin for nine--ninth Roman month (November)

Decem, Latin for tenth month (December)

Some of the Roman Gods and Goddesses

The Romans inherited and assimilated their gods and goddesses from the Ancient Greeks.

Apollo was the god of the arts, especially poetry and music.

Bacchus (Dionysos) was the god of wine and mysteries

Diana (Artemis) was the goddess of the hunt and protector of children

Juno (Hera) was the goddess of marriage; consort of Jupiter

Jupiter (Zeus) was the god of the sky; ruler of the Roman pantheon

Mars (Ares) was the god of war

Mercury (Hermes) was the god of merchants; messenger of the gods; god of travel

Minerva (Athena) was the goddess of wisdom, war, and crafts

Neptune (Poseidon) was the god of the sea and earthquakes

Venus (Aphrodite) was the goddess of love and beauty

Vulcan (Hephaistos) was the god of smiths and metal-workers

Ceres was goddess of agriculture and the harvest

Roman Money

The basic unit of currency in the ancient Roman world was the bronze coin called an as. A sestertius, another bronze coin, was worth four asses. A silver coin, the denarius, was worth 16 asses.

2 unciae = 1 sextan

6 sextantes = 1 as

2 asses = 1 dupondius

2 dupondii = 1 sestertius

4 sestertius = 1 denarius

25 denarii = 1 aureus

Ancient Terms & Definitions

Pergamena = It was in Pergamum that the discovery was first made of how to produce parchment and the resulting product was called ‘pergamena’ from the city’s name. Although it seems like a stretch, it is from this that the English word for ‘parchment’ came.

Pater = Father

Pater familias = the ruler of the family – father or grandfather

Parens = grandfather or ancestor [Latin]

Pope = father [Greek] -- In ancient Greece, it was a child's term of affection

Papau = grandfather [Greek]

Legate = commanding general of a Legion

Primus Pilus = senior centurion of the legion

Mikra Asia = what the Romans called Anatolia (ancient Turkey)

Popina = a tavern

Gladius = Short, double-edged thrusting sword

Valetudinaria = Roman military hospital

Century = Roman army unit of one hundred men (sometimes only eighty)

Vappa = You good for nothing! (Roman expression)

Di Immortales = Immortal gods (Roman expression)

Dis vos aufert or Dis te aufort! = The devil take you (Roman expression)

The Monthly Daytime Temperatures

For Smyrna & VicinityJanuary (48° F)

February (50° F)

March (52° F)

April (61° F)

May (68° F)

June (77° F)

July (82° F)

August (81° F)

September (73° F)

October (64° F)

November (59° F)

December (50° F)

Dedication

I have dedicated my past books to my children who are my greatest accomplishments, and to my wife who has inspired and encouraged me. This book I have dedicated to the Lord who has saved me and given me this bountiful life.

Prologue

This story begins in Smyrna, by far the oldest city on the Aegean coast. From a modern perspective, the year was 88 AD, during the reign of Emperor Titus Flavius Domitianus. Twenty-two years earlier, a young man, Lucius, and his new bride, Sentia, sailed from Corinth to Ephesus to begin their married lives working with Timothy as missionaries for the fledgling church of Jesus Christ. With the help of a son, they spread their work to churches in Ephesus, Priene, and Smyrna. It is with their son Marsallas that this story receives its start.

Greek mythology says Smyrna was founded by the queen of the Amazons, a mythical nation of women soldiers. The name Smyrna, according to that same legend, was derived from myrrh, a small tree that grows abundantly in the region. It was already a prosperous town in the 7th century BC. The poet Homer, whose birthplace is claimed by several cities (including Smyrna), is thought to have written the Iliad here between 750 and 725 BC. The Lydian King Alyattes sacked the city about 600 BC and the Persians sacked it again around 545 BC.

Afterward, Smyrna was an unimportant scattering of villages until 334 BC, when Alexander the Great seized the city. It is said that while on a hunting expedition in the surrounding area, Alexander became tired and fell asleep. In a dream, he was advised to move the city three miles to the south, atop the present acropolis, Mt. Pagus. This new city—the Smyrna of the Bible—grew and became an important commercial center.

After the time of Alexander, the King of Pergamum captured the city. Still later, after the fall of Pergamum, it passed into the hands of Rome. Even before the founding of the Roman Empire, the city was a faithful ally to Rome. In 26 AD, the city won out over several area cities for the right to build a temple to the Emperor Tiberius, and from then on it became a center for the cult of emperor worship. The city never wavered in its loyalty to Rome, and the emperors protected Smyrna and contributed heavily to its development.

Chapter One

Late Martius, 88 AD

Dexius stifled a snicker from his hiding place. He’s the one, he heard a shopkeeper shout. He robbed my store yesterday. I can’t believe he had the nerve to come back. Two legionnaires placed the struggling man in custody. The shopkeeper swung wildly at the accused robber, who ducked as the blow sailed over his head. Did you think I wouldn’t remember?

That’s him, another shopkeeper joined in. He’s changed clothes, but there is no mistaking the face.

I wouldn’t do something like this, shouted the man, who was barely in his twenties. I’ve never stolen anything in my life. He moved violently to pull away from the tight grip of the legionnaires.

He’s lying. I’m not stupid. He looked right at me when he stole the sandals, growled the shopkeeper. Only this time he’s not smiling, but it’s the same face.

One of the legionnaires slapped the back of his prisoner with the flat of his sword as he led the young man away. Move on, thief. Your days of stealing are over.

Dexius and his fellow shoplifter, Alypius, moved cautiously from their concealment and slipped down an alley, heading for another part of Smyrna. Returning to this part of town was not an option, at least not while the memory of the robbery remained fresh with the shopkeepers.

That was very strange, Alypius said, rubbing his chin thoughtfully. The man they arrested looked exactly like you. He was genuinely puzzled, frowning as he and Dexius walked toward their room over the meat market.

Are you certain? I’ve never seen myself in a mirror.

I’m certain. He could have been your twin. Do you have brothers?

I have no brothers.

***

In there, thief! Marsallas was pushed into a cold and dank cell at the far end of the narrow corridor. His sandals splattered across the wet floor as he shuffled to a wooden bench that was the only furniture. The guard banged the heavy door shut and slammed a bolt into place.

Marsallas stared vacantly at his surroundings, wondering how long he would be there until appearing before a magistrate. It was still morning. I should be out by afternoon, he thought.

By mid-afternoon, he began to worry. Not only was he languishing in jail, he was hungry and thirsty. When do we get fed? he yelled.

Silence.

I said, ‘when do we get fed?’

You missed it, a voice somewhere down the corridor answered. We only get fed twice a day. Someone else completed the message; We’ll get our slop at sunset.

Marsallas sat down on his bench dejectedly, staring at the wall. The chains that bound his wrists were heavy and painful. In the limited light, he thought he saw a rat scurry across his cell floor.

***

There was no trial. There was no need. Roman justice was swift in the face of irrefutable evidence. Two eyewitnesses had identified Marsallas as a thief—and a dumb one at that—for he had returned to the scene of his crime while memories were still fresh.

The Primus Pilus, senior centurion of the legion stationed in Ephesus, was at the garrison in Smyrna attending to other matters when the crime was brought to his attention. The courts are overcrowded without having to deal with clear violations of the law, he said. I won’t have a magistrate’s time wasted when it is obvious what the punishment should be. Waiving his hand, he assigned prisoner status to Marsallas, placing him in the charge of the Centurion Varro.

***

No! Marsallas screamed when he heard the decision. "I’m a status civitatis, a Roman citizen. He clung to the bars of his cell, glaring at the Centurion who brought the news. I’m entitled to a trial to prove my innocence."

Varro scoffed. That claim of citizenship may work in Roma, but we’re too many stadia from there to let it affect us here. He shook the chains that bound Marsallas’ wrists to make certain they were secure. The Primus Pilus has decided. That settles it. You’re now in my custody. I have a work party that leaves for its new assignment this very afternoon. You will leave with us.

My grandfather is Aemilius Calvus Marcus, former Tribune of the Korinthos Legion. I’m a citizen of Roma. I demand that I be taken before a magistrate. Marsallas’ face turned red.

Yes, I can see just by looking at you that you are the grandson of a Tribune. And don’t let this uniform fool you, he said, pointing to his chest. I am the grandnephew of Emperor Titus Flavius Domitianus. I have been assigned to this lowly position of Centurion as a grooming for my rightful, upcoming place in the Senate. His scorn of Marsallas’ claim was obvious as he whirled on his heels and stomped down the stone corridor of the jail toward an office on the floor above. I anticipate my transfer to Roma any day now, he shouted as he climbed the stairs. Marsallas heard a raucous laugh from behind a slamming door, followed by derisive laughter from his fellow prisoners.

Chapter Two

Late Martius, 88 AD

A scream jolted the encampment. Nearby, in the darkness, a terrified woman was being attacked. Then came a muffled sound, as if someone had clamped a hand over her mouth. Then silence. Marsallas struggled for sleep. It was almost dawn. Soon he would be rousted and his march resumed.

***

Hours later, the sun beat down on the company of prisoners as it moved toward a destination known only to the Centurion. The sun was a fiery ball set against a blue, blue sky. Though pleasantly warm for the month of Martius, it was not hot. Nevertheless, Marsallas’ brow dripped with sweat and his skin glistened.

His feet were raw and bleeding. Blisters had formed and burst. I can’t go on, he whimpered, stumbling into the man walking beside him. The pain is beyond bearing.

Ha! grunted the man who marched beside him. What choice do you have? shoving Marsallas off his shoulder. The Romans leave no slaves behind.

I’m not a slave, he protested vehemently, forgetting for a moment the pain in his feet.

You sure look like one.

What does a slave look like? Marsallas protested.

A lot like you, was the rejoinder. He shuffled on. A lot like you.

The deep-rutted highway was intolerably dusty, thanks to the numerous wagons and countless travelers walking between cities. All gave the prison detail wide birth as it made its forced march east.

Later, Marsallas asked, How much further do we have to go? His whimpering had stopped. There was no point; no one cared.

What do I look like, some sort of travel expert? The man grunted again. None of us knows. And these soldiers seem little interested in our questions. Marsallas’ companion spit unsuccessfully; spittle dribbled down his chin. Wherever it is, the work will not be pleasant. He wiped his face with his forearm. I know that much from experience.

***

The rest of the afternoon passed slowly. Marsallas limped. The pain in his feet was agonizing, distracting his attention away from Atilius, the man who walked beside him. Finally, just before twilight, the column came to a halt. The Centurion dispatched five men and a legionnaire to a nearby farmhouse for water. When they returned, they told their compatriots that they were near the town of Turgutlu and most likely were headed for Sardis, one more day’s march away.

Expectation soared. At least the march would end.

***

The next afternoon, as the column approached Sardis, Marsallas saw men at work. Some were building a retaining wall, others were hauling rocks and sand, and still others were working on a roadway leading to a small temple. None of the workers looked up. It was as if there was no point in paying attention to the world around them. They were going nowhere and nothing mattered other than doing an acceptable job so that they avoided punishment. As Marsallas watched, he saw lips moving but he heard no sound. The men were talking but none dared to raise his voice, even though the closest legionnaire was fifty yards away.

***

They marched on to another site where a large temple was nearing completion. From the statuary, they could see that it was to be the Temple of Artemis. As many as one hundred slaves, under the close supervision of a dozen legionnaires, scurried around performing various tasks. It seemed the heavy work was over, for the building was up and the masonry was nearing completion.

Stop! Centurion Varro suddenly bellowed. The ragged column came to a standstill.

See that trench? He pointed toward a freshly dug, deep channel. Over there, slaves. Varro jabbed at the hole. That’s where you will find yourselves if you misbehave. It will be your grave.

This squat, over-stuffed, ugly Roman officer, already hated by Marsallas, swaggered before his prisoners, enjoying the power he held over them. Once, when he had visited the farm owned by his father’s friend Brennus, Marsallas had seen a tiny rooster strut around the barnyard just like this man. It may have impressed the chickens, but Marsallas was unmoved. Varro’s voice was higher than most men and always hoarse. There was an ugly scar on his face, running from his left ear to his chin. Did he get that from an enemy or a fellow soldier? Marsallas wondered. A beard would have suited him. He was shorter than most, but taller than a dwarf.

Varro had the chronic posturing of a little man, long bullied as a child by others of greater stature. His voice was hard, implacable, barking orders impatiently; giving his legionnaires little time to respond. Marsallas thought that death might sound like this.

This is where you will work. This is where you will work hard. His antagonism increased and his voice rose as he pushed his way into the exhausted horde. If you displease me; if you fail to obey my instructions, you will die! You will be thrown into the pit and buried alive. His right hand clutched his short sword, giving subtle testimony to the fate that might