We had gone some distance into Egypt when we came upon a Roman encampment. We spread some of our merchandise near the entrance and waited hopefully to be allowed to enter. It was not to happen. Instead of being invited in with open arms we were shooed away like so much vermin. As a princess, and member of the royal family, I was highly offended. It took every ounce will-power not to tell the insolent Roman dog what I really thought of him. Instead, like humble merchants, we meekly packed up our things and moved on.

I told Unaishu, the caravan leader, to set up camp further down the road. We would be nothing, if not persistent. Presently, a Centurion came by. A Centurion! What luck!

"Oh, Your Honor! Dear sir! Most exalted one! Ave, brave soldier! Please come! Come and see the rare treasures we have to sell." I shouted shamelessly at him like a common market huckster.

I held up some Indian silk embroidered with gold. "Perhaps something pretty for your wife?" -- or your lover?" (wink, wink). He looked interested so I redoubled my pursuit of the quarry with, "And we have a line of rare perfumes, gold jewelry, even some very fine gems. Come, brave one, come and look!"

He was definitely interested, but not in the merchandise! He eyed me appreciatively, "Now, aren't you a tasty little morsel of oriental delight. Tell me, pretty one, what is your name and where are you from?" He caressed my shoulder and I smiled up at him seductively. I tilted my head ever so slightly so that my soft hair gently brushed the back of his hand. I noticed with satisfacton that he trembled at the touch.

"I am Arsinoe, daughter of Demetrios Hanel, the leader of this caravan, your worship." (Of course, it was a brazen lie.) I indicated Unaishu, who was lounging like a merchant prince inside the tent. "We are merchants from Damascus, your honor, and we have brought our merchandise to Egypt to sell. Do you see something that strikes your fancy?"

Indeed, he did!
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To make a long story short, the Centurion arranged to meet me that night at a nearby inn. I prepared for the occasion by wearing my most revealing garment, augmented by a most expensive perfume. My first attempt at spying went rather well, I thought. For modesty's sake, I will not go into detail here except to say that he was extremely affectionate -- and talkative.

It may have been the strong wine I kept pouring down him which served to loosen his tongue. Little by little, in the course of the evening, he revealed to me everything that I had hoped to learn about the Roman encampment closest to my country's border. When I had obtained all the information I needed, I laced his wine with a potion that would induce sleep and forgetfulness. As soon as he was safely unconscious, I hurried back to Unaishu and our encampment by the roadside where he and one of our cavalrymen, still disguised as a camel driver, awaited my return. The tent and a few of our choicest goods were packed and ready for travel. The other members of the caravan, the bulk of the merchandise, and the rest of the camels had already vanished.

"Hanel, the Syrian merchant," and daughter, "Arsinoe," disappeared into the desert, never to be seen again. At the same time, that remaining "camel driver," now a determined messenger on a swift horse, crossed the border into Nabataea with the information that the King so urgently needed. The military escort, waiting at Qasrawet, was poised to insure his safe arrival in Petra.