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the time, with the army of the Danube, and at first Nikomachos thought that he had simply failed to authorize his man of business in Rome to release the money. However, when he pursued the matter, he was unable to obtain anything more than another forty thousand of the interest. The default began to place a strain on his own affairs, and he pursued it more urgently, but received only threats from Rufus’s secretary and no reply at all from the man himself, even after he left the Danube and went back to Rome. Last autumn Nikomachos died, leaving his estate heavily in debt. The heir to the estate—and the debt—was my father.”
    Hermogenes took a sip of wine and swilled it round his mouth. “Nikomachos’s creditors were threatening to seize his house and turn his widow, my father’s sister, out into the street, so my father decided to go to Cyprus himself to set things right, even though it was late in the year.”
    He made himself have another swallow of wine, and was able to continue in a more-or-less normal voice, “He never arrived there. There was a storm, and his ship went down. In the spring I went to Cyprus myself, liquidated the estate, paid off the most pressing creditors, and persuaded my aunt to come back to Alexandria with me. Now I am, as you have mentioned, sole heir to my father’s estate, and that includes the debt he inherited from Nikomachos. Lucius Tarius Rufus owes me five hundred and twenty thousand sestertii.” And the lives of my father and my uncle . He met Crispus’s eyes. “I presume he does have the money.”
    Crispus shrugged. “I’m sure he does, my friend, I’m sure he does. As you said, he’s a very wealthy and powerful man. But he may well be a bit short of cash in hand. The consulship is an expensive proposition. You are not going to be a welcome visitor.”
    Hermogenes shrugged. “He borrowed the money.” He paused, considering, then went on, “It could be lucky for me that he is consul right now. He will not want the embarrassment of a summons for debt while he actually holds the supreme magistracy of Rome.”
    Crispus stared at him, aghast. “Oh, Jupiter!” He began to laugh. “You’re not going to tell him you’ll do that ?”
    â€œI hope to settle the matter quietly. I do, however, hold a valid and binding contract—and, unlike Nikomachos, I am a citizen and entitled to use the Roman courts.”
    Crispus laughed again. “Oh, gods and goddesses! Imagine it! A Roman consul summoned for debt by an Egyptian moneylender ! He’d be the laughingstock of the city for the rest of his life!”
    Hermogenes looked up in surprise and indignation. “I am not an Egyptian!”
    Crispus flapped a hand in concession. “I know, I know—but in Rome, nobody cares whether you’re an Alexandrian Greek or an Egyptian Greek or a plain ordinary Egyptian Egyptian. You come from Egypt: you’re Egyptian.”
    â€œI am a Roman citizen.”
    â€œHermogenes, you’re an Alexandrian to your fingernails! Your father lent money to Aelius Gallus when he was governor of Egypt, and accepted the citizenship in lieu of payment. That isn’t the same as being a real Roman.”
    â€œI am Roman enough to take Rufus to court.”
    Crispus stopped laughing. “You’re serious ? No, my friend, don’t do it. Don’t even threaten it. A man like that, sitting there in the curial chair—do you know what the consulship means ?”
    â€œProbably not,” Hermogenes admitted. “I thought the consuls had very little real power, these days.”
    Crispus looked uncomfortable. Of course: the emperor boasted that he had restored the republic, which ought to mean that the consuls were once again the supreme governors of the Roman state. To admit that they were merely figureheads was to disagree with the emperor, and that was not wise.