Read A Chapter:  Changing Of The Gods

While the Roman system for hunting down prison escapees was not the best, Diodotus and Trophimus felt that changing their names would further lessen the chance of discovery. They were minor criminals, with plans for bigger and better things. Returning to prison was not one of them. Diodotus was now Herclides; Trophimus was now Soterides. And they were brothers. At least, that was what they were going to tell the people of Korinthos.

Soterides had always known poverty; a victim of the oppressive Roman system that took from his culture to enrich its own. His life was a dedication to retribution; to repatriate that which was stolen. Or, so he reasoned. Herclides came from similar circumstances although his motivation in life was strictly survival. He sought vengeance against no one. A good meal today and a bed for tonight were incentive enough to continue.

“I have come upon the perfect scheme that will bring us more money than we ever dared dream of.” Soterides and Herclides stood near the shoreline of the Saronic Gulf, just north of the Korinthos as Soterides gestured toward the fir trees and the roadway that lay to the west.

“And that would be?” Herclides’ voice sounded doubtful.

“We will propose to dig a canal across this land.”

“Well, that sounds easy enough. All we need are hundreds of slaves and lots of money.”

Soterides shook his head with a look of disbelief on his face. “Sometimes I wonder why I made you my partner. You lack imagination and adventure.”

Herclides was about to protest when Soterides interjected. “I am joking. You are my partner because I like you and we make a good team.” His smile was reassuring. “Let me explain what I have in mind.

“For centuries, this pathway has been used to tow goods across the isthmus. Ships land on one side, transfer their cargo to land barges, and drag it across to the other side where it is loaded onto other ships for the ongoing journey. Think how simple it would be if boats could sail across this isthmus.

“Suppose we formed a company that would dig a canal . . and we sold shares in this company to raise the money so that the canal could be dug. The owners of these shares would own the company . . . and the company would own the canal. If they owned the canal, they would be able to charge a fee for every boat that passed through the canal.”

“They would become rich!” Herclides exclaimed.

“So they would . . . if the canal was dug. But that’s not part of my plan.”

“What is your plan?”

“To raise the money only; then leave Korinthos. We would take the money with us, of course.”

“But what about the canal?”

“Herclides, Herclides. What shall I do with you? We are not builders. We are not businessmen. We know only how to swindle.”

“Oh, I understand now. We will just sell the investors on the plan. We won’t actually do it.” His face lit up as he grasped the idea.

“You are quick to take hold of a concept, Herclides.” His tone was mocking; his face was smiling.

“Well, now that you have explained it so well, my first observation sounds right. It should be a relatively easy dig,” Herclides inspected the task ahead, looking at the shoreline a few feet beneath his feet. “It is not far down to water level.”

“True enough, where we are standing, but look toward the Korinthian Gulf. Can you see it?”

“No, it is too far.”

“That is not so. You could easily see it if it weren’t for that hill. It must be eighty meters high. The dig will be most difficult, particularly if there is rock below the surface.

“And while we are talking about the dig, stop worrying how difficult or easy it will be. We won’t be doing it. Remember?” Incredulity returned to his face.

“But enough talk about the canal. I have been thinking that if we are to be successful in raising the money we need, we must get another partner.” Soterides smiled at the tall, lanky Herclides who was grimacing as he listened. “Not just any partner,” he added, “but someone with influence; someone who can put us in front of rich people with money. A Roman.”

Ignoring the suggestion that another partner was needed, Herclides said, “How much will we ask for people to invest?”

“I don’t think anyone will believe us if we ask for less than twenty-five thousand aureus.”

“You must be joking. That would be enough to purchase five farms.”

“You are right. We must ask for fifty thousand.”

Herclides shook his head in disbelief. “I doubt there is that much money in all of Korinthos.”

“Ah, yes there is . . . that much and more. These rich people only think of getting richer. If we convince them that their shares will bring them great returns, they will plead with us to take their money.”

“How many shares will we sell?”

“Twenty.”

“But your plan . . . do you think these rich people will believe it?”

“They will believe it because they will want to believe it. You never can be too rich is what they think. Besides, the plan merely expands on what has been talked about for six hundred years. Remember, Periander is the one who first considered opening a canal through the Isthmus. Then Demetrios Poliorketes started working on it, but he was warned that the difference in sea levels could bring about disaster, flooding the peninsula. So he stopped the project. Now we have the Diolkos. Just think how much money could be demanded if there was a canal, rather than a marble roadway that is in disrepair. Ships would not have to unload and then reload. It would save the ship owners money, and they would gladly pay a lesser sum for a toll to save the greater.”

“How much will we sell each share for?” Soterides wanted to be certain he understood the amount.

“Were you not listening? I’ve already told you.”

“Tell me again.”

“I said fifty thousand aureus.” A smile flickered across Soterides’ face.

“That is a lot of money. That’s . . .” he paused as he calculated, “. . . that’s one million two hundred fifty thousand denarii.”

“Yes it is. We must think big or else no one will think big with us. They must believe that this is a major project or they will not have faith in it at all. But to make it easy for them at the outset, we will tell them we only want five percent of the total right now. That means they only must give us two thousand five hundred aureus at the beginning. Think about it. When we total these down payments together, we will have fifty thousand aureus that will be all ours.”

Soterides beamed with satisfaction. “This is the most exciting scheme I have ever come up with. It sounds so credible. People will believe it. They will want to believe it. It will be our job to help them believe it. I was thinking that we should draw pictures – some that show barges being pulled across the isthmus and some that show ships sailing through the canal.”

“Soterides, you are helping me get excited with the idea and yet I know it is a fraud. If we can show them how realistic the plan is . . .” his words trailed off as he imagined the fools lining up to buy shares. “We will be rich . . . and gone before they know they have been swindled. And the best part is they will only have lost five percent of what they committed. Rather than feeling cheated, they will be relieved that they didn’t lose it all. They may even be happy.” He chuckled at the thought.

Herclides became serious. “Now, about this Roman who you say we need. Do you have someone in mind? He must be gullible, yet someone who can make others believe.”

“I have someone in mind. I have been observing him for some time.” He smiled his affable smile that had brought him so much success in the past. Fools, the people he concentrated on, were so taken in by good looks and persuasive talk. It was almost too easy.

***

It was two hours after dawn and already the sun was hot and the air heavy. The month of Julius was always scorching with little relief. The coolest place was at home where the brick walls and red tile roof, with rooms arranged around a central courtyard, provided natural air-conditioning and heat protection. But Lucius needed to get away. There was a chance that his father might come home from work early, and he did not want to be there if he did. Only the day before, his father had expressed his displeasure that Lucius was doing nothing worthwhile. He told him that if he failed to find work soon, he would be conscripted into the army, in spite of their conversation to the contrary. Lucius knew that his days of idleness had to come to an abrupt end. He had to get serious about finding work.

As had become his custom since leaving school, he went to the Agora in the centre of the city. It was located to the south of the Temple of Apollo and included shops, small shrines, fountains, baths, and other public buildings. He meandered throughout the crowded marketplace, pausing to listen as shoppers haggled with storeowners over the pricing of fish or sandals. It didn’t seem to matter. The game was to bargain for the best price, whatever the object. Claims of questionable parentage interspersed with cries of taking food from the mouths of babies filled the air. The gods were invoked. Insults were screamed to the point that Lucius felt no sale could ever result. And then, with a snap of a finger, an agreement would be struck and both combatants would separate happy. He found this to be a constant source of amusement and amazement. And great entertainment.

He actually went to the Agora with the pretence of finding employment. To preserve his cover story, in case his parents asked, he always visited some of the shops to inquire about a job, but never went where he thought there might be a chance of being hired. He just wanted to be lazy for a while, without responsibilities. After all, other young men his age did the same thing. But now his father was pressing him. The time to become a man was at hand.

Lucius was an imposing young man; tall, muscular and handsome. With a perpetually happy smile on his face, shop owners were drawn to him, finding him not only attractive, but attractive for their business. Many times, he would be offered a job but he always found an excuse to turn it down; too menial, too time consuming; not in his chosen field.

After talking to a few shop owners, he would walk to the Forum where he would stand near the platform next to the Temple of Apollo and listen to the orators who took their turns expounding on first one subject and then another. It was always entertaining and sometimes educational. He thrived on the radical thinking of some; the ones who dared challenge the correct thinking of the day. None went so far as to challenge the government system under which they lived, but most found opportunities to philosophize about the idea of a republic and the freedom of men.

This day started off differently.

A larger than normal-sized crowd had gathered around the Stoa, piquing Lucius’ curiosity. The usual activity in and around the shops of the marketplace was being affected, much to the displeasure of the merchants. A short, stocky man with reddish hair had mounted the pedestal. He looked familiar and Lucius was certain he had seen him before, but had no idea where. Framed in the background by the imposing Akrokorinthos, he spoke Greek. He was not an accomplished orator, but his words were strangely persuasive. Perhaps it was the tone of his voice or the forcefulness with which he spoke; perhaps it was the logic he presented. It did not matter. Lucius moved closer to better hear the argument being presented. This was no philosopher, Lucius mused, for he was far too direct in his presentation. He spoke with an authority that was strangely disquieting.

“Men of Korinthos, as I stand in front of the mighty Temple of Apollo, I see that you are very religious. Once, a long time ago, the lumen totius Graeciae -- the light of all Greece – was extinguished. Then, one hundred years ago, reconstruction began and the city’s light once more began to shine like a beacon. Now, Korinthos is among the mightiest cities in the empire. You have much to be proud of because it is your hard work and accomplishment that has brought this about. You are known all over the world for agriculture, commerce and trade; for your work in bronze and shipbuilding; for the Isthmian games.

“Today, Korinthos is the capital of Achaia, and is a city of social, cultural, and religious diversity. It is that religious diversity about which I would speak to you now.” The man stared out at the milling crowd, looking to see if anyone was listening. Many were. Most were arguing their own messages in small groups, perhaps practicing for the time they mounted the pedestal. The man continued.

“There must be no religious diversity among you for there is but one God. In one sense, you practice this thought because you worship one supreme god – but then you add many lesser gods as if the supreme god needs assistance. So, through your own imaginations, you have gods and goddesses for travel, and for earthquakes, and for wisdom, and for weaving cloth, and for sailing on the seas, and for war, and for love. There is nothing you can do without there being a god to assist you; a god to whom you pray.

“Do you really believe that God is so impotent that He must delegate? You have created gods in your own images, but I am here to tell you that God created you in His own image. God created the heavens and the earth. He created all that is and ever will be. He is all-powerful, and all-knowing. There is nothing He cannot do. He does not live in statues or temples made by man.” In saying this, he gestured toward the statues that filled the area; statues dedicated to Artemis, and Bacchus, and the temple of Aphrodite, and the temple built 50 years before by Augustus that was dedicated to all gods. “He lives in each of us, and if He is to accomplish anything, it will be because He has worked through us.”

“God is not nearly as concerned with what we go through as He is with our response to what we go through.” The speaker paused and wiped beads of perspiration from his forehead. The afternoon sun was hot and the breeze of the morning had been stilled. The powerful voice resumed. “Through the error of man and the erroneous folly of his insight, the gods have always been held accountable for our trials and tribulations. If something goes wrong, ‘they are accountable,’ men have said.

“But I have come to Korinthos to share some very good news about the One God, who is the God of love.”

A Jew, Lucius thought. Since when have they been evangelical? His attention returned to the stocky man, this time not so much to listen as to study him.

The crowd quieted, too, as they listened. Lucius heard one ask, “What is this man saying?” another answered, “He’s talking about some foreign god.” Yet another said, “He is saying that we worship false gods.” Then, they started to murmur in dissention as his blasphemy against their beliefs became apparent.

“Stand down, outsider,” a voice from the rear shouted. “We do not want to be anywhere near you when Jupiter strikes you dead.” Other voices agreed and the shouting intensified.

“I will stand down now, but I will return. I have been sent here by God and have no choice but to proclaim Him. I fear not death because it is He who protects me. I fear no other gods, because there are no other gods.” To a chorus of obscenities and derision, Timothy stepped off the pedestal and disappeared into the crowd. A man and a woman walked quickly to catch up to him.

The message was thought provoking, but Lucius had heard enough and was glad the man had stopped. As he turned to leave, he was intercepted by two Greek men, both more than ten years older than he. They were well dressed in the fashion of the day. One was clean-shaven; the other had a closely-cropped beard. “Excuse me,” the shorter of the two said, “can we talk for a few minutes? We have an idea we want to explore with you.”

Lucius was hesitant. Talking to unknown Greeks was not something that made him comfortable. His father had taught him to be cautious when dealing with strangers, and he was particularly adamant about the Greeks. “They do not like us, Lucius,” he had said more than once. “They do not want us in their country, and will do what they can to drive us out.” Still, he was curious to know what they wanted.

“I only have a minute or two. What do you want?”

Again, the swarthy one, the shorter of the two spoke, “My name is Soterides, and this is my brother Herclides.” Herclides nodded acknowledgement. “We are embarking on an exciting venture that will bring wealth and fame to all who are involved.”

“Why do you tell me?”

“We have asked around. We know that you were the brightest student in your class. We know that you are the son of the Legate and that you recently became a citizen of Roma. We know that you are looking for work. And we believe we have a position in our venture where you can do well – and that we will succeed because of you.”

“What is the position?”

“We come from a good Greek family. Our father is a successful Athenian merchant, living in the port city of Piraeus. We are educated and have come to Korinthos to seek our fortune. It did not take us long, once we arrived, to see the project that will bring us the denarii that will make us rich.”

“You have not told me the position you see me in.” Lucius pressed for an answer.

“Indeed, I have not. First, I must tell you about the project; then you will quickly see where you fit in.” He inched closer, lowering his voice as if fearing that others would hear. “You are familiar with the Diolkos, of course. And you no doubt know that the tyrant Periander first wanted to dig a canal where the towpath now exists.”

Lucius nodded.

“Well, we plan to succeed where Periander failed. We believe that today’s construction skills far exceed those of our ancestors and that with the proper amount of slave labor, we can dig the canal to replace the towpath. Once that is accomplished, we will be able to charge adequate tolls to recover the investment and then will come the profits.”

“Where will you get the money? It will take a fortune.”

“Now is the time to tell you where you fit in. You are bright, handsome and a member of Korinthos’ leading family. You know every wealthy family in the city. You have a good personality and you speak well.”

“You seek to flatter me.”

“I speak the truth. We have studied you for weeks. Your job as one of our partners will be to help raise the money for the project. We will establish a company and sell shares. You will be able to gain audiences with people we are unable to reach . . . and you will sell shares to them. As holders of these shares, they will participate in the profits, which will be considerable. They will become even wealthier than they are presently, and so will you.”

“My job will be to sell shares to friends of my parents?”

“That it will be. If they do not want to buy, you will go to the next family on your list. Some people are very cautious with their money. Others are interested in becoming richer. It is these people you will concentrate on. Like any venture, there is risk, and you must explain this to them. If they participate, they will be taking a chance that they will lose their investment. But the risk also means that if the project is successful, they will become very, very rich.” Soterides watched Lucius carefully to see what his eyes revealed. He felt certain he saw interest; strong interest, so he proceeded. “Lucius, this is probably the most exciting financial opportunity the friends of your parents will have ever heard. This does not come from winning a war and taking the spoils. It comes from investing in a solid business venture with high probability of success. Do you think you can do this?”

Lucius’ heart was pounding. Here was the thing he was certain he had been looking for; a job where he could earn money and not have to follow in his father’s footsteps. “Yes I do think I can do this,” he said. “When will the venture be ready to start?”

“With you as a partner, we will be ready to start soon. First, we must advise the Proconsul’s office of what we plan to do. Then, we must prepare the shares so that people who invest will have proof of their investment. Once that is done, we can start to raise money so we can purchase the land where we will dig.”

“Have you estimated how many workers it will take, and how long the overall project will last?”

“To begin, I believe we will need 200 slaves, but as soon as they confirm that the dig is possible, we will need many more, perhaps as many as five or six thousand. We have no idea at the moment how difficult the dig will be. It will depend on the soil and the rocks, which we assume will be there.” He straightened his shoulders and took a deep breath. “As for how long will it take to complete the job, we will not know until we get into the digging. We feel it will take at least two years and maybe more.”

Soterides looked at Lucius for a sign; a confirmation. “Can we count on you?”

“You can.” His life was about to change forever and his face burned with the thought.