A Point of Law by John Maddox Roberts Page A

onto the surface with gravers, as such surfaces are done now. First, they made thousands of minute, gold beads, all exactly the same size. That, too, is a lost art. Then the roughened surface of the piece—the ring, in this case—was prepared with a layer of the finest solder.” His voice grew wistful, explaining the arcana of his vocation.
    “Then the tiny beads were laid atop the solder, one at a time. This task was so demanding that it is said only children could do it properly. No one older than ten or twelve at the oldest, had the eyesight and the lightness of touch to accomplish it. Then, without disturbing the surface preparation, the piece was put into a furnace. It had to be removed the instant the temperature was perfect. Remove it too soon and the solder would not hold. Leave it too long and the solder would run off, taking the granulation with it. There were a hundred stages at which work this delicate could be ruined. It is amazing that any saw completion at all. But, when done properly, the effect is incomparable. Modern granulation work done with a graver or chisel is gross and coarse by comparison.”
    “The stone looks Greek,” I said.
    “It is. But the old Etruscans often incorporated Greek work intotheir own, just as we do today. Or, this could be a modern stone set into an old Etruscan ring. For that you will need to consult a lapidary. It is not my field.”
    I took the ring back from him. “Many thanks, Laturnus. I believe that your guild and my future office will enjoy the most excellent of relations.” I rose from my chair.
    “I rejoice to hear it. Why, if I may ask, is the origin of this ring of interest to you?”
    “A matter of an inheritance. Several heirs claiming to be the rightful owner, you know how it goes.”
    “Alas, so I do.”
    Back out in the street I checked the angle of the sun. Still plenty of daylight left.
    “That was interesting,” I said, “but probably irrelevant. Let’s go see if the stone has any surprises for us.”
    We went to the nearby quarter of the lapidaries. Most of the workers in precious substances lived and worked in the same small area near the eastern end of the Forum. Their shops were often located in the Forum itself, but I was looking for a dealer who traveled widely and bought from many sources; one who specialized in sapphires.
    A bit of questioning led me to the shop of such a man, a resident alien named Gyges. Despite his Greek name he had a distinctly Syrian look, not an uncommon combination in the eastern coastal cities. I explained what I wanted, and he looked at the stone.
    “The stone is from Egypt,” he said without hesitation. “Once it had a different shape, but it was cut down and polished flat to prepare it for this carving. That is done a great deal with Egyptian stones. Outside of Egypt, nobody much likes Egyptian jewels. Fortunately, they liked massive, irregular stones, so it is relatively easy to alter them for a more refined taste.”
    “How old is it?” I asked. “I mean, when was this carving made? Can you tell?”
    “It’s quite recent. This treatment of the hair—snakes, I should say—was first used by Eunostes of Caria no more than fifty years ago. But this wasn’t carved in Caria. The style is that of the Greek cities of southern Italy and Sicily. I am afraid I can’t name you a specific lapidary, but I am almost certain that this came from one of the workshops of Croton.”
    Croton is in Bruttium, of course, but its inhabitants are not Bruttians: they are Greeks. Croton was the home of Pythagoras, who knew things about triangles and music and said people shouldn’t eat beans. It was also the home of a great Olympic champion named Milo around five hundred years ago. Lately the place didn’t amount to much.
    “That doesn’t help us greatly,” Hermes said as we left.
    “You never know what bit of information may come in useful,” I assured him. “Now for something that should be truly enlightening,