She grinned. "While Queen Cleopatra was gone, the temple of Isis was a place without magic."
"And now the magic has returned." I broke the seal and unfolded the papyrus. The letter was in Caesar's own hand.
Gordianus
Apologies for our interrupted dinner. Much was left unsaid. But unexpected encounters bring happy results. There will be a royal reception today that I should very much like you to attend. Call it a lesson in the fine art of reconciliation. Wear your toga and come to the grand reception hall at the eighth hour of the day.
I put down the letter. Merianis looked at me expectantly. "A reception of some sort, later this afternoon," I said.
She nodded to indicate she already knew about it.
"Will you be there?" I said.
"No power in heaven or earth could keep me from attending."
"Then I shall go, as well. Mopsus! Androcles! Stop playing with that cat and lay out my toga for me." The reception hall was truly grand, the result of hundreds of years of refinements, additions, and adornments by generations of Ptolemies. Here the kings and queens of Egypt received tributes from subjects, announced treaties and trade agreements, celebrated royal weddings, and put on their most magnificent displays of wealth and power. Every surface shone with reflected light, whether from the polished marble of floors and pedestals inlaid with semiprecious stone, or from the burnished silver of brackets and lamps, or from the gold of gilded alcoves filled with gilded statues. The lofty ceiling was supported by a forest of slender columns decorated with lotus motifs and painted in vivid hues.
The room was already buzzing with excitement when Merianis and I arrived. The crowd was made up mostly of Egyptians in ceremonial dress, but there was a large contingent of Romans as well. "A lesson in the fine art of reconciliation," Caesar had remarked in his note to me, and the Roman officers seemed to be following that theme, taking pains to mingle with the locals and engage them in conversation. Among the Egyptians, however, there seemed to be two unequal factions in the room, standing apart from one another. The greater faction I took to be adherents of the king; the lesser group, adherents of his sister. While the Romans moved among both, the two groups of courtiers did not mix, but instead exchanged suspicious, furtive glances.
Merianis took my hand and drew me toward the far end of the room, where four thrones were set upon a low dais. The gilded thrones were upholstered with crocodile flesh, and the arms of the thrones were carved to resemble crocodiles whose open jaws revealed rows of ivory teeth. On the wall behind the thrones, a vast painting depicted the city of Alexandria as it might appear to a bird soaring at a great height, with the Pharos lighthouse looming above all else. Beyond the cityscape and its teeming harbor, an expansive blue sea was scattered with tiny, but meticulously rendered, ships, and the great islands of Rhodes and Crete (identified by their names in Greek letters beneath them) loomed in the far distance.
A wave of excitement as palpable as a warm breeze passed through the room, with a loud hubbub following in its wake. I saw that an entourage was making its way through the crowd toward the dais. Pothinus was in the forefront, followed by the king, who wore the uraeus crown with a rearing cobra. Caesar came next, dressed as consul of the Roman people in his toga with a purple border. After him, resplendent in a gown of purple, adorned with jewelry, and wearing a uraeus crown with a vulture's head, came Cleopatra.
Following the older siblings came the two members of the royal family I had not seen before, Arsinoe, who was slightly older than the young king, and the youngest of all, a boy who also bore the name Ptolemy, who could not have been more than ten or eleven. These two did not wear diadems, but were dressed in dazzling raiment.
As the royal procession passed by, I tried to read their expressions. Pothinus looked pinched and uneasy, like a man who had swallowed something that disagreed with him. King Ptolemy kept his lips tightly compressed and his gaze straight ahead, as if deliberately putting on an inscrutable face. Caesar looked eminently pleased with himself. And Cleopatra…
The previous night I had seen her with her hair in a bun, wearing a practical garment suitable for traveling in rough circumstances, and little other adornment. Even so, she had seemed unmistakably a queen. Now, wearing royal raiment, with a necklace made of golden scarabs adorning her bosom and rings of gold and silver upon her fingers, she seemed to fill the chamber with her presence. I looked about and saw that some of the Egyptians in the room gazed at her with loathing, others with adoration, and that the Roman officers regarded her with expressions that ranged from wonderment to simple curiosity; but every pair of eyes, without exception, looked on Cleopatra as she passed by.
Her expression was as inscrutable as her brother's, but radiated a quality quite different. Ptolemy exuded the tension of a ratcheted catapult; Cleopatra seemed to flow effortlessly across the room, as a cloud proceeds across the sky.
The king and queen mounted the dais and sat upon the two thrones in the center. To either side of them sat Arsinoe and the younger Ptolemy in thrones only slightly lower and less magnificent. Seeing all the siblings side-by-side, I was struck by how closely the four of them resembled each other. I seemed to be looking at four manifestations of the same being incarnated in bodies of different age and gender, which were nonetheless more alike than different. Had their striking similarity served merely to make the siblings all the more hostile to one another?
Pothinus, facing the king and queen, struck his staff against the floor. The Egyptians in the room bowed their heads and knelt. The Romans hesitated, looking to Caesar for guidance. By a wave of his hand, he indicated that they should do as the Egyptians did, and with considerable grace he dropped to one knee. I followed his example but kept my head up. Caesar, I saw, bowed his head first to Ptolemy, who stared back at him blankly, and then to Cleopatra, who gazed at him with a look that left little doubt, in my mind at least, about what had occurred between the two of them after I left their presence.
" 'History is made at night,' " I muttered.
"What's that you say?" whispered Merianis.
"I was merely quoting an old Etruscan proverb."
Pothinus stood and again struck his staff against the floor. All rose. Caesar stepped forward. From many years of experience as an orator in the Forum and a commander in the field, he was able easily to fill the vast chamber with his voice.
"Your Majesties, I stand before you today in two capacities: as consul of the Roman people, and as a friend of your late father. Eleven years ago, in the year of my first consulship, your father, driven out of Alexandria by civil strife, came to Rome to seek our help. He received it. The Senate declared him Friend and Ally of the Roman People, a very great honor; in return, he appointed the Roman people to be guardians of his children. Thus Rome and Egypt became bound together by ties of law as well as of friendship.
"The fortunes of private citizens were joined to those of the late king, as well. I myself opened my coffers and exerted all my influence to help sustain him in his exile and eventually to restore him to his throne. His passing was a tragedy for all who knew and loved him, but most especially for this kingdom, which he loved so dearly, and which has since been riven with such turmoil and strife.
"The late king did not die intestate. Indeed, a copy of his will was sent to Rome, to be deposited at the treasury, and another copy was placed under seal here in Alexandria. Alas, the first copy fell into the hands of Pompey, and is lost to us. But since I arrived in Alexandria, I have obtained the second copy of the will, broken the seal, and read it very carefully, although I hardly needed to reacquaint myself with its terms. The dictates of that will were made known upon the king's death and were much discussed in Rome.
"Unfortunately, preoccupied by their own civil strife in recent years, the Roman people were unable to oversee the proper disposition of the late king's will. Arriving here in Egypt, I was dismayed to find that what your father intended had not come to pass. Those who were to have an equal share in the inh
eritance were instead contesting with one another, by clash of arms, as to who should claim the entire estate. To some extent, the blame for this state of affairs lies with the people of Rome for having failed to carry out their duties as executors of the will and guardians of the royal family; but I now intend to redress that failing. As the embodiment of the will of the Roman people, my authority extends to this matter of executing the late king's will, and I intend to see that its provisions are properly carried out-fairly, amicably, and for the mutual benefit of all concerned.
"When I arrived in Egypt, I was warmly welcomed by Your Majesty, King Ptolemy, and given generous accommodations. I myself have endured some small turmoil and strife of late, and to be admitted into this beautiful city and to be offered safe haven and a respite from my recent struggles were favors I shall not soon forget. I thank you, King Ptolemy. But even dearer to me are the hours that you and I have spent together since my arrival, and the birth between us of what I hope will be an enduring and ever-deepening friendship. In us, Rome and Egypt meet. It is good not only for ourselves but for our peoples that we should forge strong bonds of mutual respect and affection."
Caesar inclined his head to the king, who stared back at him from his throne, his expression more rigid than ever. Caesar paused, apparently waiting for the king to make some gesture of acknowledgement. The moment stretched uncomfortably. Ptolemy's expression remained unchanged, except for a slight tremor of his jaw. At last Caesar cleared his throat and continued.
"My growing friendship with Your Majesty has brought me great joy. But my visit has also been tinged with sorrow born of my dismay over the continuing discord within the royal family. As the playwright says, 'When gods turn one against another, mortals turn brother on brother.' As discord in heaven reverberates upon the earth, so discord in the palace of Alexandria causes distress throughout all of Egypt and even as far as Rome. Not only are the affairs of men disrupted, but the natural order is disarranged, as well. Old men, I am told, have never seen such a low inundation of the Nile as occurred this spring and summer; wise men, I am told, attribute this troubling phenomenon to the river's distress over the discord between Egypt's rightful rulers. Harmony and balance must be restored-as was the intention of your wise father, who provided that Egypt should be jointly ruled by a queen and a king, the elder son and elder daughter of his royal blood.
"To be sure, the late King Ptolemy did not leave affairs in Egypt on an entirely sound footing. The restoration of his throne came at no small price and incurred a considerable debt. Roman arms were called up; Roman blood was spilled. Those Roman troops still reside here in Egypt and now follow orders from an Egyptian commander. The very army that maintains order in Egypt was essentially a gift to the kingdom from the Senate and the People of Rome. Along with this military assistance, Roman gold and silver were lent to your father in considerable amounts, and many other resources were advanced to him upon account. The vast bulk of his financial debt to Rome, including his personal debt to me, remains unpaid. Given the strife and uncertainty that straddle the Nile, it seems impossible that this debt can be repaid until peace and order are restored to Egypt.
"The debt that Egypt owes to Rome casts a shadow upon our friendship; it would be disingenuous of me to deny it. Because of this shadow, there are those here in Egypt who fear that I may have come with more than reconciliation in mind. They fear, following the defeat of Pompey at Pharsalus, that the conqueror of Gaul may have come to Egypt with the intention of challenging the authority of its rightful rulers. Let me assure Your Majesties, here before the members of your royal court and before my own trusted officers, that I have no intention whatsoever of attempting to exert Roman authority over Egypt by force of arms. To do so not only would violate your trust in me, but would go against the express wishes of the Senate and the People of Rome, who desire only peaceful intercourse and friendly commerce between our peoples.
"I come not to bring war but to end war; not to overthrow the heirs of King Ptolemy, but to unite them; not to threaten Egypt, but to embrace her."
Caesar turned toward Cleopatra. "To that end, I welcome back to the city of her ancestors Queen Cleopatra." As he had done before to Ptolemy, Caesar bowed his head. Unlike her brother, the queen returned the gesture and flashed a faint, self-satisfied smile that reminded me of no one so much as Caesar himself.
"The queen has been absent from her capital for many days. Ceremonies and religious invocations that require her attendance have been neglected. Projects begun by her ministers have been set aside. The life of the city and the welfare of its people have suffered. She returned to the palace only last night, guided, so she tells me, by the ingenuity and persistent urgings of the goddess Isis herself. Today, the queen once again sits upon her throne. Her people rejoice, and so do I.
"What of the other siblings, Princess Arsinoe and the young Prince Ptolemy? For them, their father's will made no specific provisions. But I have found them to be of truly regal stature, and I believe they should be granted a territory of their own. Therefore, I decree that the island of Cyprus, which for the last ten years has been a Roman province, shall henceforth return to Ptolemaic rule, and that Princess Arsinoe and the young Prince Ptolemy shall rule there jointly as king and queen. May theirs become a reflection of the harmonious reign of their siblings here in Egypt.
"Let it be thus: that the will of the late king is fulfilled, and his children shall rule together, and there shall be peace in Egypt; and the Senate and the People of Rome shall likewise rejoice, and shall recognize the joint authority of the king and queen-"
"No!" King Ptolemy shouted, his voice cracking. He jumped up from his throne, his arms stiff at his sides and his fists clenched. The inscrutable mask gave way to flashing eyes and twitching lips.
Pothinus rushed toward him and spoke through gritted teeth. "Your Majesty! Distasteful as these proceedings may be, we agreed beforehand-"
"You agreed! I said nothing."
"You nodded whenever-"
"I nodded because I was too angry to speak, and too hurt to say what I was really thinking!"
"Your Majesty, please! If there are matters yet to be discussed, that should be done in private. Return to your throne and let me send these people away-"
"No, let them stay! Let them stand here and listen to this nonsense. Let them simper and blow kisses to my whore of a sister and her Roman lover, if that's what they want. It's I who'll leave, so the rest of you can get on with this orgy of self-congratulation!"
Ptolemy strode forward, stumbling slightly as he stepped off the dais. The speechless crowd parted and made way for him. The Egyptian guards at the doorway fell back, genuflecting. He was like the prow of a ship, plowing through waves and wind, deflecting all before him.
Merianis grabbed my arm. "Come!" she whispered.
"Where? What are you thinking of, Merianis?"
"Come! Don't you want to see whatever happens next?"
I looked over my shoulder as we hurried after the disappearing king. Pothinus was pale and grim. Caesar looked utterly at a loss, which was quite out of character. Cleopatra, who had not stirred from her throne and seemed to have no intention of doing so, wore a smile like that of the Sphinx.
"Hurry!" said Merianis, tugging at my arm. She was intent on following the king. His robes billowed behind him as he rushed through the hallways of the palace, never pausing until he came to the courtyard inside the gates. He shouted at the guards to open the gates. When they hesitated, he threatened to have them beheaded. The men rushed to the wheels, and the gates slowly opened.
The king ran into the street. Merianis and I followed, along with a great number of others from the palace.
Ptolemy strode down the wide Argeus. By appearing suddenly, dressed in his crown and robes of state but walking on foot and unattended by any formal retinue, he created a sensation. All who saw him stopped whatever they were doing. Some fell to their knees in awe. Some smiled and cheered. Some simply gawked. All joined in the
growing throng that followed at his heels.
At length he arrived at the great intersection of the Argeus and the Canopic Way, where the tombs of his ancestors occupied each of the four corners. The building housing the body of Alexander was his destination. He strode past the sightseers standing in line to view the remains. The guards were taken aback by his sudden appearance, but quickly recovered themselves. They admitted the king but expelled all others, or else I think Merianis would have followed right behind him, dragging me with her. Instead, we stepped into the great square, which was already crowded with people arriving from all directions.
A few moments later the king appeared on a balcony that projected from the upper story of the building. Even at a considerable distance, I could see the streaks of tears on his face.
"People of Egypt!" he shouted. His voice rang through the square. "My beloved people! The Romans have robbed me of my throne! Egypt has been conquered in a single night! We are all the slaves of Rome now!"
There was an uproar all around us. Cries of anger and despair rang in my ears, along with scattered catcalls and peals of laughter. Most in the crowd appeared to love the king, but there were some who despised him.
Ptolemy's voice pierced the cacophony. "Here I stand in the building that houses our venerated Alexander, the greatest of all conquerors, the most beloved of all heroes, the demigod for whom our city is named, from whose authority the Ptolemies for centuries have traced the legitimacy of their divine rule. But now a man has come along who fancies himself greater than even Alexander. He thinks so little of us that he doesn't arrive with a great navy supporting him, or a great army marching at his back; he intends to conquer us by trickery and deceit! I confess to you, my people, for a while he dazzled even me, and I gave to him a warmer welcome than he deserved. I allowed him into the royal palace; I shared food and drink with him; I listened to his vain boasting. But now my eyes are open! If the Roman has his way, he'll throw Alexander's body upon a dung heap, tear down this tomb, and put up a monument to himself! Perhaps he'll even rename the city for himself, and you shall wake up to find yourselves living in Caesaropolis!"
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