"The bond between father and son is a very special thing," I said quietly, and my thoughts took a dark turn.
Again, Ptolemy seemed to read my mind. "You have two sons, I understand. The one called Eco, who lives in Rome, and the other, called Meto, who travels with Caesar; but the one called Meto you no longer call your son."
"That is correct, Your Majesty."
"You had a falling-out?"
"Yes, Your Majesty. In Massilia-"
For the first time I heard him laugh, though not with joy. "You needn't explain, Gordianus-called-Finder. I've had my share of fallings-out with family members. If my latest military excursion had been successful, I'd be coming back to Alexandria with two heads to show the people, not just one!"
Across from me, Pothinus pursed his lips, but if he thought the king spoke carelessly, he said nothing.
The king continued. "Tell me, Gordianus-called-Finder, what do they say about Egypt, where you come from? What do the citizens of Rome make of our little domestic squabble?"
This opened treacherous ground. I answered carefully. "Your father was well-known in Rome, of course, since for a period of time he resided there." (In fact, the Piper had been driven out of Egypt by rioting mobs and lived for a while in exile in Rome, while his eldest daughter, Berenice, seized the opportunity to take over the government in his absence.)
"I was very young then," said the king. "Too young to accompany my father. What did the Romans make of him?"
"While he lived there, your father was well-liked. His… generosity… wasmuch spoken of." (Passing out money and promises of money, the Piper had petitioned the Roman Senate for military assistance to restore him to the throne; in essence, he had ransomed the future wealth of his country to Roman senators and bankers.) "For many months, Your Majesty, Roman politics revolved around 'the Egyptian Question.' " (The question: Put the Piper back on the throne as a Roman puppet, or take over the country outright and make it a Roman province?) "It was a delicate issue, endlessly debated." (Caesar and Pompey staged a titanic struggle over who should get the command, but to choose either man threatened to upset the precarious balance of power in Rome; the Senate finally picked a relative nonentity, Aulus Gabinius, to pacify Egypt.) "The people of Rome rejoiced when your father was rightfully restored to his throne." (Gabinius, with the aid of a dashing young cavalry commander named Marc Antony, routed the forces of Berenice. Back in power, the Piper as his first act executed his rebellious daughter; his second act was to raise taxes, so as to start paying the vast sum in bribes he had promised to Roman senators and bankers. Egypt was impoverished, and the Egyptian people groaned under the burden, but the sizable Roman garrison left behind by Gabinius assured that the Piper would remain in power.)
I cleared my throat. "The sudden death of your father two years ago caused grief and consternation in Rome." (The senators and bankers worried that chaos would overtake Egypt and that further payments from whomever succeeded the Piper would dry up; there were vicious recriminations from those who had argued for annexing Egypt outright while the pickings were easy.)
The king nodded thoughtfully. "And what is the attitude of the citizens of Rome regarding affairs in Egypt since the death of my father?"
The ground became even more treacherous. "To be candid, Your Majesty, since the death of your father, my knowledge, and, I suspect, the knowledge of most Romans regarding events in Egypt, are rather hazy. In the last few years, our own 'domestic squabbles' have occupied all our attention. Not a great deal of thought is given to affairs in Egypt, at least not by common citizens."
"But what was said about my father's will, at the time of his death?"
"A man's will is a sacred thing to a Roman. Whatever dispensation your father decreed would be respected." (In fact, there had been a great deal of disappointment that the Piper had not bequeathed the governance of Egypt to the Roman Senate; other monarchs, close to death, massively in debt to Rome, and wishing to spare their countries from inevitable war and conquest, had done exactly that. But the Piper had chosen to leave Egypt to his eldest remaining daughter, Cleopatra, and her younger brother, Ptolemy, to be ruled jointly by the two of them. Presumably, brother and sister had married one another, as was the custom with coreigning siblings in the Ptolemy family. Incest was abhorrent to Romans and looked upon as yet another decadent symptom of monarchy, along with court eunuchs, ostentatious pageantry, and capricious executions.)
The king shifted uneasily on his throne and frowned. "My father left Egypt to me-and to my sister Cleopatra. Did you know that, Gordianus-called-Finder?"
"That was my understanding, yes."
"My father dreamed of peace in the family and prosperity for Egypt. But in the world of flesh, even the dreams of a god do not always find fulfillment. The Fates have decreed this to be a time of civil war all across the earth. So it is with Rome. So it is with Egypt. So it is, I take it, even within your own family, Gordianus-called-Finder."
I bowed my head. "You speak again of my son."
"Meto, the tent-mate of Caesar," he said, watching me closely. I bit my lip. "Ah, does that have something to do with your estrangement? Has the eagle taken your son perhaps too much under his wing?"
I sighed. "I find it strange that Your Majesty should show so much interest in the family affairs of a common Roman citizen."
"I am interested in all things having to do with Caesar," he said. The gleam in his eyes was partly that of a curious fifteen-year-old boy, and partly that of a calculating politician.
"For many a Roman," I said, speaking slowly and quietly, "the choice between Caesar and Pompey was not an easy one. Cicero searched frantically for a third way, but found none and finally sided with Pompey-to his regret. Marcus Caelius leaped to Caesar's side, then grew dissatisfied and betrayed him. Milo escaped from exile in Massilia and sought to raise an army of his own-"
"And you have known all these men?" Ptolemy sat forward. "These heroes and adventurers and madmen of whom we hear only echoes here in Egypt?"
I nodded. "Most of them I have known better than I cared to, certainly better than was good for me."
"And you know Caesar as well?"
"Yes."
"And is he not the greatest of them, the nearest to godhood?"
"I know him as a man, not a god."
"A man of great power."
"Yes."
"Yet you begrudge the favoritism he shows your son?"
"The matter is complicated, Your Majesty." I almost smiled as I said this, considering that the person to whom I spoke was married to a sister he loathed and that another of his sisters had been executed by their father. I glanced at the clay jar at Ptolemy's feet. I felt slightly queasy. "If Caesar comes to Egypt," I said, "will you have him beheaded, as you did Pompey?"
The king exchanged a look with Pothinus, who clearly disapproved of this turn in the conversation. "Your Majesty," he said, intending to change the subject; but the king spoke over him, obliging Pothinus to fall silent.
"He was remarkably easy to kill, wasn't he-Pompey, I mean? The gods deserted him at Pharsalus. By the time he was ready to step ashore here in Egypt, there was not a shred of divinity still clinging to his wretched person. The gods had stripped him of their armor, and when the blades descended, the only resistance they met was feeble flesh. He thought to stride ashore, to remind me of the debts my father owed him, and take command of Egypt, as if our treasury, granaries, and arms were his for the taking. It was not to be. 'Put an end to the so-called Great One before his feet can touch Egyptian soil!'-were those not your exact words, Pothinus? You even quoted that favorite epigram of my tutor Theodotus: 'Dead men don't bite.' I thought long and hard upon this question; in dreams I sought the counsel of Osiris and Serapis. The gods agreed with Pothinus. Had I given succor to Pompey, the same curse that fell upon him would have fallen upon Egypt.
"Caesar may be another matter. I think the gods are still with Caesar. His divinity must grow stronger with every conquest. Will he c
ome to Egypt, Gordianus-called-Finder, seeking our grain and our gold as Pompey did?"
"Perhaps, Your Majesty."
"And if he comes, will he be as easy to kill as Pompey was?"
I made no answer. Ptolemy turned to the eunuch.
"What do you think, Lord Chamberlain?"
"I think, Your Majesty," said Pothinus, casting a shrewd glance at the king, "that you promised audiences with certain of your subjects today, here on the royal barge. Perhaps your conversation with this Roman could be postponed while you tend to more-official business."
Ptolemy sighed. "Who comes to me today?" "Several delegations are here to report on the status of the annual inundation in the regions of the Upper Nile; we have reports from Ombos, Hemonthis, Latopolis, and elsewhere. The news they bring is not good, I fear. There is also a party of merchants from Clysma, on the gulf of the Red Sea, who wish to petition for tax relief; a fire destroyed several warehouses and piers last year, and they need money to rebuild. I've read their reports and petitions, but only you can grant the dispensations they request."
"Must I meet these people now, Lord Chamberlain?"
"All these groups have come a very long way, Your Majesty; and I think it would be best to dispose of these matters before we reach Alexandria, where Your Majesty is likely to be greeted by a great many pressing needs that have developed in your absence."
The king closed his eyes. "Very well, Lord Chamberlain."
Pothinus stood. "I shall call for the barge to stop at the next landing, and find a suitable escort to take the Roman back to his-"
"No, let Gordianus-called-Finder stay."
"But, Your Majesty-"
"Let him stay where he is." Ptolemy gave him a severe look.
"As Your Majesty commands."
I had thought, in such a hot climate, that all business would cease in the hours just after midday, but such was not the case. While I sat and struggled not to doze-snoring during a royal audience would surely be frowned on-a succession of envoys was admitted to the king's presence. What impressed me most was Ptolemy's facility with languages and dialects. All the envoys spoke some Greek, but many exhausted their vocabulary after a few ritual greetings, whereupon the king began to converse with perfect fluency in whatever tongue best suited his subjects. All the while, the piper played in the background.
At last the final envoy made obeisance and departed from the king's presence. Pothinus showed the man out. On his way back, he was approached by a messenger, who whispered something in his ear. The message appeared to be quite long and complicated. Hearing it, the eunuch appeared at first alarmed, then amused. At last he hurried to Ptolemy's side.
"Your Majesty! You shall soon have a chance to gaze upon the master of Rome with your own eyes. Your advance guards have reached Alexandria. They send back news: Caesar's ships are in the harbor."
Ptolemy drew a sharp breath. "In the harbor? Does Caesar, like Pompey, await my coming before he steps onto Egyptian soil?"
Pothinus flashed a smile. "Actually, Your Majesty, Caesar arrived some days ago. I am told that he set foot on a public pier and attempted to take a stroll through one of the markets. It seems he wished to awe the people, for he arrived with all the trappings of a Roman consul. He wore his toga with a purple stripe, and twelve armed men called lictors marched before him bearing fasces."
"Fasces?"
"Bundles of birch rods sheathing iron axes-ancient ceremonial weapons that are part of the trappings of a Roman magistrate when he goes about in public. Suitable for Rome, perhaps, but not for Alexandria! Or so the people thought; the crowd was so outraged at this slight to Your Majesty's dignity-that a Roman should strut about the city in the king's absence as if Egypt were a province of Rome-that they raised an outcry and gathered up anything they could find in the market-fruit, vegetables, fish-and proceeded to pelt the Romans until they withdrew to their ships. Now Caesar awaits your arrival before daring to set foot in the city again."
Ptolemy laughed. "It seems there was a battle, and Caesar was forced to retreat! As my father used to say, it never pays to get on the wrong side of the Alexandrian mob. We shall have to consider how to welcome the Roman consul in a more suitable fashion."
He gazed down at the jar at his feet, and smiled.
CHAPTER X
The approach to Alexandria by royal barge was a new experience for me, and bittersweet. Each time I felt a prick of novelty, I also felt a stab of grief, for Bethesda was not there to share the experience.
Fifteen miles east of Alexandria, the canal from the Nile passes through a town called Canopus, notorious as a pleasure resort for the idle rich of the city. Out of curiosity, I visited Canopus once when I lived in Alexandria as a young man, but in those days even the trinkets in the curio shops were beyond my meager means, and I could only peer into the dining establishments, gambling houses, and brothels along the canal. Forty years later, I again found myself passing through the town, but this time I was seated next to the king himself!
Pleasure-seekers thronged the waterfront to have a look at the royal barge and steal a peek at its occupant. Ptolemy remained seated on his throne at the center of the barge and ignored the waving throng, but I thought I saw a shadow of a smile on his lips when we heard the cheering spectators cry out his name. Egypt might be torn by civil war, but among the pleasure class of Alexandria, Ptolemy's claim to the throne was apparently not in dispute.
From Canopus to Alexandria the canal grew considerably wider, so as to accommodate the numerous barges traveling back and forth. In deference to the royal vessel, all others pulled aside and stopped whenever they met us, so that our progress was unimpeded. Barge after barge we passed, some privately owned and luxuriously outfitted, others serving as common carriers offering various classes of accommodation. As a young man, I had traveled to Canopus standing upright on a barge so crowded I feared it would sink; we passed several of those, and their occupants seemed distinctly less enthusiastic about their monarch than had the diners and gamblers along the waterfront in Canopus. Some of the faces that stared back at us looked positively hostile. Did they favor Ptolemy's sister Cleopatra in the struggle for the succession? Or were they altogether weary of the Ptolemies and the chaos they had inflicted on Egypt in recent years?
Approaching Alexandria, the canal split into two branches, and we took the one to the left. A concentration of palm trees appeared on the flat horizon ahead of us, lining the shore of Lake Mareotis; reflecting the sun overhead, the lake appeared as a scintillating line beyond the silhouettes of tree trunks. The trees grew nearer; the scintillating line became a visible expanse of water. The banks of the canal grew wilder, with rushes on either side. We rounded a small bend and entered Lake Mareotis, more an inland sea than a mere lake. Ahead of us, along the distant shore, was the low, jumbled skyline of Alexandria, with the Pharos lighthouse looming beyond.
Fishing boats and private vessels drew back to make way for the king. Two small warships manned by soldiers in ceremonial armor sailed out to greet us, then turned about and formed an escort for the arrival of the royal barge.
Beneath the city walls, at the busy lakeside harbor, courtiers and soldiers awaited us on a jetty festooned with colorful pennants. The barge pulled beside the landing and came to a gentle stop. Ptolemy rose from his throne, grasping his crook and flail. Courtiers fell in behind him, each seeming to know his exact place in order of rank. I hung back, not sure where I belonged. Pothinus whispered in my ear, "Just follow me, and keep quiet."
A ritual ceremony attended the king's arrival on the jetty, with various members of the court welcoming Ptolemy back to his capital. Then the king stepped into a fabulously decorated litter, its canopy fringed all about with pink-and-yellow tassels, its beams and posts carved of ebony chased with silver, the whole vehicle carried aloft on the shoulders of a team of immensely muscular slaves who were as naked as horses, adorned by nothing more than a few straps of leather and swatches of linen.
Behind the ki
ng's litter was another conveyance, almost as magnificent. Pothinus ushered me inside and then joined me. We were hoisted aloft. Surrounded by armed guards and preceded by a veritable orchestra of pipers (playing in unison a festive tune now quite familiar to me), we were carried down the long jetty. The walls of Alexandria stretched to either side of us. Before us loomed the high bronze doors of the Gate of the Sun. The doors swung open. A warm breeze issued from within, as if the city itself released a sigh at the return of its monarch. The royal procession entered the city.
After so many delays and detours, I was back in Alexandria. The scent of the city-for, like a woman, Alexandria has its own perfume, compounded of sea air, flowers, and hot desert breezes-swept over me, and with it a nostalgia far more powerful and all-encompassing than I had anticipated. The flood of memories made me tremble. The absence of Bethesda made me weep. If I had possessed her remains, I could at least have given her, in death, the homecoming she had longed for; but even that small consolation was not possible. I possessed no urn full of ashes, no box containing her mummified remains. Suppressing a sob, I whispered to the air, "Here we are at last, after so many years away!" But there was no one to hear except Pothinus, who gave me a curious side-long glance and looked away.
We traveled up the Argeus, the principal north-south street of the city, a magnificent promenade one hundred feet wide, with fountains, obelisks, and palm trees down the middle and a colonnade of painted marble statues and fluted columns on each side. Crowds gathered to watch from a safe distance, keeping clear of the armed guards who flanked the king's procession. Many cheered; some drew back, scowling; some shrieked and babbled and prostrated themselves, as if overwhelmed by religious awe. I gathered that Ptolemy was many things to many people: king, hero, usurper, persecutor, god. Would it be so in Rome when Caesar returned there in glory? It was hard to imagine any Roman citizen bowing to another man as if he were divine, but the fate of the world had taken such a tortuous path in recent years that anything seemed possible.
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