Lord of the Nile

by Constance O'Banyon

  Danaë gave him a smile that made him forget that he was old enough to be her grandfather. “I have given my word.”

  “Go on,” he said, “take her out.”

  Danaë hurried to the cage, and when she opened the door, Obsidian looked at her hopefully. The cat purred and rubbed against Danaë’s leg as she clamped a chain around her neck.

  “You will behave yourself, Obsidian,” she said in a firm tone. She was so busy with the leopard, she hadn’t noticed that ten huge warships, were coming toward them.

  “A Roman fleet,” Captain Narmeri yelled. “They bear down on us. Look to the oars and steer out of their path,” he ordered his men. “Be quick about it!”

  The warships had seemed to come out of nowhere, and Danaë watched in surprise as the lead ship gained on them.

  “Look you well,” Captain Narmeri stated, coming up to Danaë while making sure the leopard was on the other side of her. “Unless I miss my guess, that will be either Pompey or Caesar. Either one of them will only bode ill for Egypt if they are bringing their war to our shores. We have our own battles to contend with.” He stared angrily toward the Roman ships and grumbled, “See how they force me to direct my course toward the lighthouse. We will be late getting into port.”

  Danaë brought Obsidian close to her body and moved to the edge of the deck. She could hear the drumbeat from the lead warship setting the pace for the oarsmen. She stared in wonder at the sight of the red sails with the symbol of a golden eagle—the emblem of Gaius Julius Caesar, would-be master of the world.

  The warship sliced through the water, sending spray across the small merchant craft. Obsidian hissed, and the fur on her neck rose as the Roman ship neared.

  Danaë noticed a group of soldiers standing near the railing, trying to get her attention, but she haughtily ignored them. Only one man stood apart and aloof, attracting her notice. He was tall, with broad shoulders, magnificently attired in a uniform of leather and bronze. He wore a helmet with a scarlet plume, and a scarlet cloak billowed out around him. He was so splendidly dressed, Danaë suspected he might be the great Caesar himself! But when he removed his helmet, she saw the man was much too young to be the battle-hardened Proconsul of Rome. Her eyes met his; then he boldly smiled at her and made a deep bow. Without thinking, she gave him a slight nod, then stepped back when the other Roman soldiers let out a raucous cheer.

  She had never seen a Roman before and did not want to again. But that one had taken her breath away.

  Lord Ramtat was distracted, his thoughts focused on the task that lay ahead; he hardly noticed the small fishing craft and merchant vessels as they gave way to the mighty Roman fleet. He frowned when several soldiers standing at the railing started making lewd comments about a huge black leopard and the dark-haired beauty who held its chain.

  Ramtat’s eyes widened in surprise when he beheld the young woman. She wore a white garment shot through with golden threads, and a wide green sash that was bound at her waist and fell to the toes of her golden sandals. Her upper arms were adorned with golden amulets, and another amulet encircled her shapely ankle.

  “Now, that is someone I would like to know,” one of the soldiers said, blowing her a kiss.

  “Save your efforts,” Ramtat said, smiling. “That, my friends, is an Egyptian maiden of some consequence—she will not even acknowledge you.” He noticed that her eyes were outlined with kohl, but those eyes needed no adornment, he thought. He flashed her a smile and bowed as the two ships came so near he could almost have reached out and touched her. She returned his bow with a haughty nod of her head, sending her black hair spilling across her creamy shoulders.

  Ramtat leaned his shoulder against the gunwale and crossed his arms, his gaze fastened on her, and he wondered who she could be. Although she looked Egyptian, those green eyes said otherwise. He had seen eyes that color before—Queen Cleopatra had that same emerald gaze. Perhaps this woman was also of Greek heritage.

  Tribune Hirtius, Caesar’s staff officer, jabbed Ramtat in the ribs. “If that lady is a sample of Egyptian females, I cannot wait to get off this ship. Would that I were that cat at her side.”

  “I would say she would be unusual in any society,” Ramtat replied, knowing he would never forget the sight of the sultry beauty.

  “Perhaps that is Cleopatra herself.”

  “Nay, Tribune. I know Queen Cleopatra, and even she cannot touch this lady in beauty,” Lord Ramtat asserted, making a final bow to the mysterious woman, who haughtily turned up her pretty nose at him. “Although she is not the queen, I would venture a guess that one of her ancestors stood close to the throne; the resemblance between them is obvious.”

  “So you don’t know who she is?”

  “I know her not,” Ramtat said quietly, his gaze turning to the papyrus merchant boat where the woman stood watching him. “But if the gods are kind, we shall soon meet.”

  Chapter Five

  Captain Narmeri shook his fist and swore under his breath as two more Roman warships relentlessly bore down on his small craft, forcing him to give way and sail closer to Pharus Island. He took the helm himself as the boat rocked and swayed on the waves stirred up by the huge warships.

  “Roman dogs!” he muttered. “Think you own the world, and that everyone else should give way to you.”

  Danaë leaned her elbows on the railing, observing the lead ship, which carried Caesar’s banner, as it docked at Pharus Island. She watched with interest as one of the Romans disembarked. “Why would anyone connected with Caesar want to go ashore at the lighthouse?” she asked. “Surely they have come to Egypt on important matters. Why do you suppose they want to examine our lighthouse?”

  “Who can tell how a Roman thinks?” the captain muttered. He nodded toward her leopard. “Put the cat back in—” He suddenly broke off. “Son of Ra! Look you—someone on the island has run up the white flag, and we are being hailed. More delays! They want me to dock and pick up a passenger.”

  “Is it unusual for someone from the island to hail a passing ship?” Danaë inquired, squinting to see who was waiting on the dock just ahead.

  “Aye, most unusual. It’s never happened to me before.” He stood at the rudder and commanded his men to adjust the sails to bring the Blue Scarab alongside the pier that jutted out into the sea.

  When they had docked, the captain hurried ashore, and Danaë went to the cage and ordered Obsidian back inside. Her attention was centered on getting the balking leopard in her cage, so she didn’t hear the captain return with his passenger. Hooking the cage door securely, Danaë became aware of a stranger’s voice, and she quickly stepped behind the netting, where Minuhe joined her.

  “Thank you for halting your voyage for me, Captain. The lighthouse guard informed me that you were a cargo ship, so I assumed you would not mind taking me on board since you had no passengers to be inconvenienced.”

  The captain was standing between Danaë and the newcomer, so she could see no more than a pair of sandal-boots laced high on a pair of muscular legs. When the captain shifted his weight a bit, Danaë noticed the scarlet plume on the Roman’s bronzed helmet. He was without doubt a high-ranking officer. The tone of his voice was deep, and it puzzled her: Why would a Roman speak pure Egyptian without an accent?

  Captain Narmeri said in an irritated voice, “I saw you when you left the warship, and it made me wonder what a Roman would be doing on Pharus Island. There is not much to see there unless you climb to the top of the lighthouse for a better view of Alexandria.”

  The newcomer’s voice came out like the crack of a whip. “You saw naught, Captain.” His tone went lower and became quieter, more menacing. “There was naught to see—do you understand me?”

  Recognizing the danger that confronted him, Captain Narmeri took a hasty step backward. “You’re right. My eyesight is not as good as it once was, and the glare from the sun was reflecting off the sea. Under those conditions I could see nothing clearly.”

  Danaë heard the fear in
the captain’s voice, and now that he’d stepped away from the soldier, she had a clearer view of the man. He wore a bronzed breastplate and a scarlet cloak fastened on each shoulder with golden disks. She realized he was no ordinary soldier, but a lord of men. He was the same man she had noticed on the Roman warship. His expression became grave, and his dark eyes penetrating as he stared at the captain.

  “I see by your uniform you are ranked a general. What can a Roman general want of me?” Captain Narmeri asked. “Where am I to take you? I have produce on board that will spoil if I do not make it to Alexandria this day. I’m but a poor captain; I owe my living to the cargo I transport. Surely you can appreciate my dilemma.”

  “My good captain, If you don’t stop your tongue from wagging,” Ramtat warned, “it may very likely cause you to lose your head.”

  A gasp from Danaë drew the Roman’s attention, and he stepped toward her with a quickness that took her by surprise. She froze when he brandished a dagger and sliced through the thin netting she stood behind, the point of the blade poised close to her breasts.

  Time stood still as Danaë met Ramtat’s gaze—she watched as his anger turned to confusion, and then he smiled, shoving his knife back into a bronze sheath.

  “My lady, I did not realize this was the same vessel that passed us in the harbor.” He bowed low, but his gaze remained watchful. “I ask your pardon if I frightened you in any way.”

  Several things happened at once. Sensing that Danaë was in danger, Obsidian hissed and clawed at the cage, trying to get out and protect her, and Faraji stepped forward with drawn sword, ready to defend her.

  “It will be the worse for you if you do not step away from my lady,” Faraji warned menacingly. “General or no, leave my lady in peace.”

  Ramtat, the seasoned soldier, drew his sword so quickly, the movement took Faraji by surprise. With a wide thrust, Lord Ramtat’s blade tore Faraji’s sword from his fingers and sent it swirling in the air to slide across the deck out of the guard’s reach. The tip of Lord Ramtat’s blade landed at Faraji’s throat, pricking the skin and drawing blood. “One more move from you and you are a dead man,” he warned.

  Danaë quickly stepped forward and angrily shoved the blade away, wedging her body between Faraji and the Roman. “You will not touch him. We have done naught to you!”

  Ramtat stared into her turquoise-green eyes for a long moment, and then smiled, shoving his sword back into his scabbard. “Bravery should always be rewarded, not punished.”

  Before Danaë could react or guess the man’s intentions, he lifted her chin and lowered his head, his lips brushing lightly against hers at first, and then pressing hungrily. At first Danaë struggled, but when he deepened the kiss, her mouth softened against his.

  Something fluttered inside her, and she forgot that everyone was watching and that she didn’t even know this man’s name.

  Ramtat pulled back quickly, wondering what had just happened between them. He hadn’t intended to kiss her, but now he wanted to kiss her again. He swallowed deeply and stared at her. “Perhaps I’m the one who’s been grandly rewarded.”

  A blush stole up Danaë’s face, and she regained her composure. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Faraji hurry forward, and she knew she had to do something quickly or her brave guard would fall victim to the Roman officer’s sword. “Step away from me, Roman,” she commanded. And to her surprise, the Roman did just that.

  Ramtat was bemused. He wanted to see this woman again. “Who are you? Where can I find you?”

  She frowned at him, but she couldn’t help staring at the mouth that had just given her so much pleasure. “Who I am and where I live are no concern of yours,” she said, turning her back to him.

  Faraji gripped Danaë by the shoulders and shoved her behind him, and Minuhe pulled her farther away from the officer. “Never come near my lady again,” the guard told Lord Ramtat. “I will kill you if you do.”

  There was a long, tense silence while Ramtat and Faraji stared at each other. Ramtat knew the bodyguard was feeling shame because his lady had been forced to protect him. The maidservant was gripping her mistress’s arm to keep her behind the guard.

  Suddenly Ramtat laughed. “Perhaps, beautiful lady, we’ll one day meet under different circumstances.” He then turned and strode to the bow of the boat where he stood staring out at Alexandria in the distance, trying to pull his mind back to duty.

  Danaë’s heart was still pounding as she watched the Roman stand so still and impressive, his armor gleaming brightly in the sun, his head held at a proud tilt. Minuhe pulled Danaë farther into the netted area, and, after retrieving his sword, Faraji took up his stance as guard, his face red with shame.

  “I thank you for protecting me,” Danaë told him kindly, knowing he was suffering because the Roman had bested him. “You were very brave to put yourself between me and that man.” When Faraji made no reply and wouldn’t meet her eyes, she continued, “That man is a seasoned soldier and is trained to kill—you are not.”

  Faraji still kept his rigid stance, his sword unsheathed, and she watched him drop his head in shame.

  With a sigh, Danaë settled beside Obsidian’s cage and spoke soothingly to the cat, who had been disturbed by the confrontation. But her gaze kept going to the Roman, who seemed lost in his thoughts and gave little notice to anyone aboard the Blue Scarab.

  Danaë was startled when she saw the Roman unhook his scarlet cape and toss it over the side of the boat. She was even more startled when he unbuckled his armor and tossed it over the side as well. His helmet was the last to go into the sea. The man now wore only his white tunic and leather sandals, and she realized he wanted to blend in with the populace when they reached Alexandria.

  Why should he want to do such a strange thing? she wondered. None of it made sense to her—but then, she could not guess how a Roman thought. She touched her mouth and remembered his kiss. He was just a man who had accidentally crossed her path and would disappear from her life forever.

  Even without his splendid armor, it was easy to see he was not a common man. But he looked younger, and less fierce, in the garb of a civilian. His black hair was clipped short in the Roman style. He was tall and lean; his body was quite beautiful. In that instant, he turned to look in Danaë’s direction, and she wondered if he could see her behind the netting. Probably he could, since he gave her a bow, his expression mocking.

  As soon as the boat bumped against the pier, Danaë watched the Roman toss a leather bag of coins to the captain, and she drew in a relieved breath when he leaped over the side of the boat and was soon swallowed up in the crowd. It puzzled her that he’d gone to such lengths to make sure no one knew he had sailed to Alexandria with the Roman fleet. She decided to dismiss him from her thoughts, and to hope she would never see him again. The last-minute activity of the boatmen drew her attention—the sails were tied off, and the crew was making ready to unload cargo.

  Captain Narmeri came up beside her. “I am sorry about what happened. If I’d known it was a Roman who wanted passage on my boat, I would have sailed past the island without stopping.”

  “There is no reason for you to apologize, Captain. I have only praise for your actions. You made a long and difficult voyage a pleasant and safe experience for me and my servants.”

  With a serious expression on his face, the captain bowed. “Lady Danaë, I hope our paths will one day cross again. If you are ever in need of my assistance, you have only to send me word and I’ll come to you. This is not an idle offer. I stand ever your friend.”

  She was touched by his sincerity. “I shall always remember that.” Danaë looked up at him with uncertainty. “You will have the men take great care unloading the animals?”

  He bowed. “As always, lady.”

  “May the gods smile upon you, good captain,” she said, turning and moving across the deck. It didn’t escape her notice that the crewman still kept their gazes averted, especially when Faraji moved beside her.


  She watched the dockworkers busily loading and unloading cargo onto camels as well as ox-drawn carts. Throngs of people competed for space on the narrow road leading away from the harbor. Merchant ships from all over the world rode at anchor, and there were also the newly arrived Roman ships with well-armed soldiers crowding their decks.

  Danaë doubted that anyone would challenge Caesar’s right to go ashore. In the distance she saw the immense marble palace gleaming beneath the midday sun. Guards stood before the tall arched gateway, denying anyone without permission entrance to the sanctuary. Danaë could only imagine the magnificence that lay behind those walls.

  Everything else went out of Danaë’s mind when she spied Uriah, her beloved teacher, standing among the crowd. With a happy smile, she waved to him and rushed down the gangplank. Her first step on land was jarring, and it took her a moment to adjust to the strange sensation. She watched Uriah approach, his gaze sad.

  “Lady, my heart is gladdened at the sight of you, but I am saddened by the reason that brought you here.”

  She went into his arms and laid her cheek against the roughness of his woolen robe. “Have you had word of my father?”

  “Nay, lady.” He raised her head so he could look into her face. “Your arrival precedes any word from the villa.”

  She nodded. “I am not surprised.”

  “I have a cart for the trunks and the animals. You and Minuhe will go by litter.”

  “It is good to see you, my dear friend,” she said, reluctant to move out of the comfort of his arms. He had been her teacher and her friend. He had taught her mathematics, history, Greek, and so many other things about the world around her—his knowledge had always seemed endless to her.

  Uriah looked her over carefully. “How are you faring, my child?”

  “There is nothing wrong with me except for the pain of leaving Father when he needed me most.”

  “I know. All will be well in time.” He gently guided her toward a litter and saw her comfortably seated inside. Minuhe climbed in beside her, and they both reclined on silken cushions. Once they were away from the docks, Danaë allowed her gaze to move over her surroundings. They were in a poor part of the city, where people lived in huts thatched with palm leaves and wore reed sandals instead of leather. As they moved away from the wharf, there were shops for stonecutters, weavers, carpenters, and potters. She now had a clear glimpse of Alexandria, and she thought it was a magnificent city with its shining golden domes and buildings with carved obelisks.