Marching With Caesar-Antony and Cleopatra: Part II-Cleopatra

by Peake, R. W.

  My focus was pinned to the rostra where Antonius and Cleopatra were seated, since it became apparent that we were too far away to be seen, at least at a casual glance. I was beginning to think that this had been a waste of time and effort, and I was really regretting the whole idea, thinking about the amount of gold that had gone into the gown draping Miriam, when Antonius and Cleopatra rose from their table.

  They stepped down from their perch to begin circulating among the guests, Antonius waving the men to stay seated when they came to intente at his approach. They started on the far side of the forum, spending a few moments at each table, long enough for Antonius to tell a joke, or ask a man about his Cohort and how their preparations were going, the normal kind of small talk that generals like to engage in to show the men that they are interested in their well-being, even if in reality they could give a rotten fig about anything we had to say. Ever so slowly, the pair made their way up and down the rows of tables. I felt Miriam grip my arm and I turned to see her looking at me with wide eyes.

  “What are we going to do?”

  Her voice was quivering with the tension she was obviously feeling, so I patted her arm, trying to keep her calm while fighting the growing knot in my own stomach. Cleopatra was now walking down the next row of tables, next to Antonius, but their backs were turned to us as they continued their small procession. Standing just behind and to the side were two men, one from the Brundisium Cohort, and one Nubian, the latter carrying the large curved axe that they favored. The sight of the huge plum-colored man was not helping Miriam’s state of mind, but Iras, who was kneeling behind us, was having the most violent reaction, shaking in such obvious fear that she was drawing the attention of other guests. Her eyes were glued to the queen, as I suppose mine were as well, though to that point Cleopatra was oblivious, her back still turned.

  Cleopatra remained facing away from us while she followed Antonius down the row, and I took the opportunity to examine her closely, noticing the lines that had not been there the last time I was this close. Her hair was plaited in its normal fashion; even so I could see a few strands of silver, not as thick as the gray in Antonius’ own curly locks perhaps, but visible nonetheless. Her great beak of a nose seemed even more prominent, and I surmised that it was due to her losing what little spare weight she carried, seeming to be all sharp angles and edges. What little physical allure she held was long gone, although it did not seem to deter Antonius from slavering over her as if she were Venus herself. They reached the end of the row, making the turn up ours, and for a moment both Antonius and Cleopatra stood with an unobstructed view of the entire length of the dozen or so tables, each of them with several guests seated. There were a few other slaves kneeling in the space between tables, those nearest to the royal couple jumping up to move out of the way. Iras started to rise, but I reached out, putting a hand on her shoulder.

  “Stay where you are until I tell you to move,” I said, using the tone I reserved for commands to Legionaries.

  Her eyes were wide with fear, and she shook her head in mute appeal, but remained kneeling. At that moment, Antonius took a step closer to the first table in our row as he leaned down to say something to one of the Centurions seated there, making it so that Cleopatra was not blocked in her view. Our eyes met; immediately her lip curled back from her teeth in an involuntary snarl, her eyes blazing with a hatred that I could almost feel as a blast of radiant heat. I returned her stare with equal hatred, while Antonius continued talking, completely oblivious to this small drama being played out behind him. Then, he took a step to the side towards us, forcing Cleopatra to break her gaze so that she moved with him, making it natural for her eyes to move downward, and that is when she saw Iras. The gods blessed me by keeping my attention on the queen, enabling me to see the full bloom of reaction as she took a halting step, her eyes taking in the sight of the shaking girl kneeling at my feet, just before her mind comprehended that it was Iras. Her face looked suddenly drained of blood as she took a staggering step to the side, reaching out in reflex to grab Antonius’ arm. As he turned, an annoyed look on his face, Cleopatra’s eyes moved back to me, then to Miriam, and I could see the bitterness of defeat written as plainly on her face as I have ever seen in the expression of a man I have slain. Antonius was looking at her, his irritation changing to puzzlement at her expression, then he followed her gaze to see me sitting there, with Miriam at my side. I nodded gravely to Antonius, which he returned, but I could see him struggling to understand exactly what was taking place in front of him. Cleopatra suddenly reached up, pulling him down to her level, whispered something in his ear that caused him to react sharply, followed by a whispered exchange. Then just as quickly, the queen turned to walk away on clearly unsteady legs, beckoning her Nubian to follow. Without a further word to anyone, she left the dinner, leaving Antonius looking bewildered, and me feeling better than I had in some time.

  Turning to Iras, I said quietly, “You can stand up now. The general’s coming and you don’t want to be in the way.”

  She was able to rise, but only on the third try, her legs clearly wobbling. I suddenly became aware of Miriam’s breathing, harsh and rasping as if she had just run a great distance, and I looked over to see her staring straight ahead, clearly trying to regain her composure.

  I put a hand on her arm, thinking it would calm her, but she went rigid to my touch, her voice shaking as she said, “I would like to leave as soon as it is possible, Titus Pullus. I understand if you need to stay here, but I want to go home.”

  “We can’t leave now,” I tried to assure her. “But we'll be leaving shortly, I promise.”

  Antonius continued to speak to the seated guests, though I saw him continually glance over at me, his gaze then shifting to Miriam. On his second or third glance, he looked over at Iras, a frown creasing his face as he tried to place her face, or so I assumed.

  Scribonius was silently watching this playing out, then he whispered to me, “I think Antonius recognizes the girl as belonging to Cleopatra. This could get awkward.”

  “Really? You think so?” I snapped at him, irritated at his grasp of the obvious, despite realizing now that he was just needling me.

  The other Pili Priores were paying avid attention, sensing that there was something very interesting occurring, something that might fill a boring evening around the fire with conversation. Antonius’ exchanges were getting shorter, since he was clearly intent on getting to me, making it only a matter of another moment or two before he was standing before me, looking down at me with cold eyes.

  “Well, Primus Pilus Pullus, it seems that you have a talent for upsetting the queen.”

  “I can imagine, general.” I was proud that my voice sounded in control and cool, because I was feeling anything other than that, my heart beating against my chest with enough force that out of the corner of my eye I could see my tunic pulsing from the impact.

  I heard a sharp intake of breath at my reply, while Antonius’ eyes narrowed, the Triumvir clearly not liking either my words or tone.

  “I can’t,” he snapped. “I can’t imagine why your very presence seems to provoke her to such anger. I thought we had settled your . . . disagreement.”

  “I can't speculate about why my existence so displeases the queen, general. Perhaps you should ask her about it.” I should have stopped there, I suppose, but I could not resist adding, “Mayhap it’s the fact that I'm still in existence that's the cause of her anger.”

  There was not a whisper of sound from anyone sitting at the table, Miriam suddenly gripping my arm with surprisingly strong fingers, while Antonius’ jaw clenched, the blood rushing into his face. Our eyes were locked together, but I sensed that more than just our table was paying attention to this exchange, and I believe it was that fact that kept Antonius from exploding. He suddenly exhaled so violently that it was almost a snort, before the corners of his mouth turned upward in what I clearly recognized as a smile meant for everyone watching except me.

 
His laugh was forced, but his tone was even as he said, “I have no doubt that has something to do with it, Pullus.”

  He turned his head to regard Iras, who was standing with downcast eyes while the Triumvir examined her in the same manner a man appraising a horse will.

  “Girl, what is your name?” he demanded.

  “I-Iras, master.”

  He cocked an eyebrow, looked over at me while saying a bit more loudly than before, “Isn’t that a coincidence! Cleopatra once had a slave by that very name, if I remember correctly. And she looked remarkably like you. I haven’t seen her about for a few days, though. Do you have a twin, girl?”

  I do not know what possessed her, but as I had already seen glimpses, Iras was a smart girl. “Yes, master. In fact, I do have a twin.”

  The look on Antonius’ face told me that he was as surprised as I was, yet I did not miss the flash of relief that passed over it as he saw a way out of his dilemma.

  “Ah. That explains it. I'm relieved that I can assure the queen that her property hasn't somehow been stolen from her by one of my Primi Pili.”

  That stung me, and it was my turn to feel the flush of heat rising to my face as the men around me laughed at Antonius’ wit, even if they did not fully understand what was happening.

  “I can assure you that I came by Iras honestly, general.” I tried to keep my anger from showing. I do not think I was altogether successful, because I felt a kick under the table from Scribonius. “I didn't steal Iras from your wife, I can assure you.”

  Now, I still do not know to this day what the exact truth of that statement was, and is. Is it possible to steal property when that property has essentially been discarded, and was supposed to be destroyed? And does the fact that the property in question tried to kill you affect the balance of the scales in any way?

  “I never thought you did, Pullus,” Antonius said lightly. “And I'll be sure that the queen understands that this is a case of mistaken identity.”

  Antonius made as if to leave our table, then he stopped and slapped his forehead. “This business has made me forget my manners. Who is this lovely creature with you, Pullus?”

  Marcus Antonius was famous, and rightly so, for his amorous conquests throughout the Republic, and his charm was on full display at that moment. It was as if Miriam’s fear evaporated with the speed of a raindrop falling in the desert, blushing with pleasure at the attention of the Triumvir. I stood, pulling Miriam to her feet to present her to Antonius, who kissed her hand and complimented her extravagantly on her beauty and dress.

  “Pullus is a lucky man, lady. I can’t imagine how a big ugly brute like him managed to secure such a flower. He obviously has talents outside of the army that I am unaware of. Isn’t that right, Pullus?”

  He turned to look directly into my eyes, and we both knew that he was not referring to matters of love. Releasing her hand, Antonius turned to go to the next table.

  As he passed me, he whispered in my ear, “This is a dangerous game you’re playing, Pullus. You have no idea what Cleopatra is capable of, or the lengths she'll go to protect herself. And me.”

  “Tell that to them,” I jerked my head at the seated Pili Priores, all of whom were trying very hard to appear not to be listening. “The queen needs them, and I think we both know that there are no secrets in the army. Whatever happens to me, I respectfully request that you impress that fact on her.”

  “Don’t you think I’ve been doing everything I can to make sure she understands that?”

  His voice tightened, and as close as we were, I could clearly see how worn down he was. “You’re still alive, aren’t you?”

  “And I'd like to stay that way,” I assured him, then decided to take yet another risk. “And as long as I don’t have to sleep with one eye open, or lose another slave to someone’s poison, the queen doesn't need to worry about Iras’ twin showing up.”

  I do not believe that his look of surprise was feigned at the news that I had lost Eumenis, and he seemed at a loss for words for a moment. However, I could see that he understood the implications of what I had said, and he turned to look at Iras again. His shoulders slumped as he put the pieces together, or at least enough of them to know that she had been a tool of Cleopatra, and the true cause of Cleopatra’s turmoil at the sight of her. Finally, he nodded his understanding, stepping away with a whispered promise to do what he could. This did not make me feel very secure at all, but I supposed it was the best I could hope for. Marcus Antonius had been unable to rein Cleopatra in for some time; only time would tell if he managed now.

  “He didn’t know, did he?”

  Miriam’s question intruded into my thoughts on our walk back to the apartment.

  I considered it, then shook my head. “No, I don’t think he did. It makes me wonder what else she’s up to that he doesn’t know about.”

  “He was right about one thing,” Scribonius, who was walking with us, interjected. “You’re playing a dangerous game.”

  “Don’t you think I know that?”

  I had been aware for some time that I was swimming in very deep, very rough waters, but I did not see that doing nothing was an option. If I had just absorbed the loss of Eumenis and not retaliated, would that have stopped her from trying again? I did not believe then, nor do I believe now that being passive with a woman like Cleopatra was the smart or right thing to do.

  “Do you think she will stop?” Miriam asked.

  “I think so.” This came from Scribonius, surprising me considerably.

  I turned to look at him, trying to determine if he was just saying this to make Miriam feel better, but he seemed to be serious.

  “Why do you think that?”

  “Because she's about to have a lot bigger things to worry about than you,” he said frankly. “We’re about to embark for Greece, where Octavian is either waiting, or will be arriving shortly. I think that you’ve proven that coming after you won't be easy. And now that Antonius is aware of, or at least has an idea of what’s happened so far, it’s in his best interest to keep her under control.”

  I looked at him, and could not resist gloating a bit. “Why Sextus Scribonius, that sounds like you think what I did was a good idea.”

  He gave me a frown. “I never said it was a bad idea. But I agree with Antonius that it’s a dangerous game. I just think that you tend to take things farther than they need to go.”

  “What do you mean?”

  As an answer, Scribonius simply pointed back at Iras, who was following along behind us.

  “Oh, that.” It was all I could think to say.

  “Yes, that. There were other ways to let the queen know that Iras existed, other than throwing the girl in her face in a public setting. Otherwise, I think you did the right thing.”

  I was content with that, and we finished the walk back to the apartment in silence, each of us clearly lost in our own thoughts.

  Before we left, I decided to take further precautions, hiring a man from the recently retired 4th Macedonica, just one of the number of men still about who decided they had enough of the army, but did not save enough money to retire without an income. The man’s name was Decimus Flavius, and he came highly recommended by Corbulo, who was now one of the Evocati attached to Antonius’ Praetorium. I interviewed the man, a grizzled veteran missing an eye, a result of the first Parthian campaign. The empty socket was covered with a patch, the scarring from the wound clear to see tracing out from the edges. He was about the same age as Vellusius, which meant he was missing about the same amount of teeth, yet he had a competent air about him, and I was confident that he could handle almost anything that might come up in my absence. I still did not trust Iras, so I went to great lengths to instruct Flavius to keep a close watch over her, but just to be safe I was leaving Agis behind as well, who had surprised me in the last few days. The death of Eumenis had thrust upon him more responsibilities, and I was not hopeful that he would be able to step into the role, but aside from his stuttering pro
blem, he had done so quite capably. He was also devoted to Miriam, and hated Iras for killing Eumenis, no matter what the circumstances might have been, although I must admit I was beginning to think that perhaps Miriam was right, that Iras had been forced to do what she did, and her display at Deukalos’ villa had indeed been false bravado. I was not willing to put Miriam at further risk to test that idea, however, and I was in a better frame of mind knowing that Flavius would be there.