Marching With Caesar-Civil War

by R. W. Peake

  “Ah,” Caesar repeated, then said gently, “that’s not very good, is it?”

  Pothinus shook his head vigorously, agreeing with Caesar that it indeed was not very good.

  Caesar spoke again, his voice becoming brisk. “Rome cannot afford to have strife in this region since it will impact our grain supply. Therefore, I will adjudicate this dispute between the two and come to a decision about how to resolve it. You will send for Ptolemy at once, and I will send for Cleopatra and have her escorted here safely.”

  Pothinus’ body went rigid, whether it was from anger or fear I do not know which, but his voice was controlled. “I will send word immediately, Caesar, but that is all I can do. Ptolemy is sovereign and this is his kingdom. I do not think he will take kindly to being summoned.”

  “If he knows what is best for his people, he will come,” Caesar was curt. He turned to us, indicating that we were leaving. Turning back, he said, “I will of course be your guest here at the palace while we wait. I assume that meets with your approval?”

  Pothinus bowed, and I marveled at his self-control as he said smoothly, “I would have it no other way, Caesar. We would be most honored if you availed yourself of these quarters, humble as they may be.”

  I fought back an urge to laugh, but only just and I could see I was not alone. Before we turned to leave, Pothinus asked us to wait. “While I am sorry that we could not accommodate everything you requested at this moment, Caesar, I do have a gift that I think will help put us in a more favorable light.”

  Caesar turned back, eyebrow lifted. “Oh, and what would this precious gift be?”

  Turning to the creature next to him, Pothinus took the basket from his hands, holding it out to Caesar. Caesar took a step forward and at Pothinus' signal, the creature next to him lifted the lid of the basket with one hand, and with the other raised the object inside so it could be viewed by all. Caesar recoiled in horror, although it took me a moment for what I was seeing to register, before shooting a quick glance at Cartufenus, who was standing, mouth agape, as dumbfounded as I was. For as you probably know, gentle reader, that precious gift was the head of Gnaeus Pompeius Magnus, preserved in some sort of oil.

  Caesar quickly gathered his composure, his face becoming a mask very much like that worn by Pothinus, but one did not have to know Caesar well to hear the barely controlled rage in his voice when he spoke.

  “Put his . . . him back in the basket,” he spoke through clenched teeth, whereupon the creature dropped Pompey's head back in with a thud, almost causing Pothinus to lose his grip. “This act brings great shame on the house of Ptolemy. Shame! Do you understand me?”

  Pothinus was clearly taken aback, along with all the other creatures, their expressions mirroring ours from a moment before as they looked at each other in shock and confusion.

  “But he was your enemy,” Pothinus protested, “I thought you would be pleased!”

  “He was a Consul of Rome,” Caesar roared more loudly than I had ever heard him. He shook his head, his voice suddenly sounding tired and I saw his shoulders slump. “You had no right or cause to meddle in internal Roman matters. You have shamed not just yourselves, but you have shamed me.” He took a deep breath before regaining control of himself. “This changes nothing,” he declared. “You know what you must do. And I know what I must do.”

  With that, he turned away, but before I faced about to wait for him to pass, I am sure that I saw a glimmer of tears in his eyes.

  The news of Pompey’s death angered the men greatly. Fortunately, their anger was not aimed at Caesar but at the Egyptians because of their treachery. It also told Caesar that he had to watch himself while in their midst; if they would murder Pompey, it was not out of the realm of possibility that they would try to murder Caesar. Now that Pompey was dead, there was really no need to linger where we were so clearly not wanted, at least as far as the men were concerned, but we were staying put while Caesar waited for Ptolemy to answer his summons. However, Caesar was not idle; he commanded his admiral Cassius to set sail as quickly as possible with orders to retrieve the 27th Legion, along with two new Legions he had ordered to be formed out of Pompey’s veterans, numbered 36th and 37th. Meanwhile, we set up our quarters inside the compound in a series of buildings near the royal theater, and I was ordered to bring the rest of the 6th within the enclosure, with the 28th setting up camp on the quay. Our presence was still a festering sore to the Egyptians, and they had taken to making daily demonstrations expressing their displeasure. At first, they contented themselves with gathering in a crowd to hurl insults and an occasional rotten vegetable or small dead animal. Then a couple boys from the 28th wandered too far from their Cohort area, evidently in search of some of the fleshly delights they had heard so much about, winding up with their throats cut and dumped in an alley. Their Centurion took his Century out in search of them; while they found the two men, they also found themselves surrounded very quickly by a mob, and this lot was not content just to throw fruit and whatnot. According to the Centurion, it started out in the usual manner, but then out of the crowd came one of the bricks that the Egyptians use to pave their streets, striking a man in the chest and knocking him down. An instant later, the air was filled with bricks, stones, and whatever else the crowd could get their hands on, with several men struck and injured, a couple of them seriously. That in turn ignited the rage of the men, who were already eager to lash out because of their two dead comrades, and without receiving any orders, they rushed the crowd, striking a few dozen down before the crowd ran for its collective life, whereupon the Century marched back to the camp carrying their dead and wounded. That was the beginning of daily riots before Caesar finally ordered first Century-sized, then Cohort-sized sorties out to disperse the crowds, with orders to stop just short of deadly force. However, this merely served to escalate the violence, and soon there were pitched battles going on between our men and the Egyptians. It was not until Caesar finally allowed us to unsheathe our weapons that a semblance of order was restored. I do not know how many Egyptians were killed, but it was in the hundreds, although we did not survive unscathed. Since both of my Cohorts were now at the enclosure, we were not involved in any of these actions, but I suspected that if we stayed much longer, we would see more than enough action, and it appeared that Caesar had every intention of staying. The question was, what was he staying for?

  ~ ~ ~ ~

  I know that there has been much speculation about the true reason for Caesar’s time in Alexandria; some men who claimed to have inside knowledge have even said that it was for love. These men are at best fools, and at worst liars. I know why Caesar chose to stay and wait for Ptolemy to answer his summons, although I also know firsthand that he was very well aware that when Ptolemy finally did come, it might be at the head of an army that outnumbered us by more than ten to one. While I cannot claim that Caesar told this to me directly, we had enough conversations where the subject came up and he made some sort of comment that now leads me to be as sure as I can be that I know the real reason that we stayed in Alexandria, and love was not it. However, before I impart what I know, I cannot deny that there might be a partial grain of truth that Caesar had feelings for young Cleopatra, although I can say with certainty that she was not the driving force behind his decision. No, it was more mundane and as a result more pressing reason than love; Caesar needed money. I have already detailed the agreement Caesar struck with the men of the 6th, yet the 6th was just the tip of the javelin. Caesar had made similar promises to his Spanish Legions to quell their revolt, and had just formed new Legions from the Pompeian survivors who chose to fight for him. As a result, he knew that to renege on these promises would bring on his destruction more surely and more quickly than Pompey or his minions ever could. The amounts we are talking about were massive, and that was just for the troops; Caesar also had to rebuild a Republic torn apart by civil war. Although his Gallic conquests would go a long way towards providing the kind of income he needed, the cash that he
had accrued through the sale of hundreds of thousands of slaves was long since expended and it would be years before the new provinces started providing the kind of revenue needed. The wealth of Egypt was well known, even by people as lowly born and uneducated as me, and it was this that Caesar planned on using to keep his enterprise going. What I do not know was whether he planned to take the contents of Egypt’s treasury outright, or if his goal was more subtle, by placing Cleopatra on the throne, knowing that she would be a pliant ally. First though, he had to settle the question of the squabble between brother-husband and sister-wife, but before that could begin, he had to find Cleopatra. Especially now that, after several days of waiting, we received word that young Ptolemy was returning to the capital.

  ~ ~ ~ ~

  Surprisingly, the young king chose to leave his army behind, bringing only his immediate entourage. His retinue included Pothinus, whom I have already mentioned, and was left behind to manage matters in his absence, along with an old toad by the name of Theodotus, who was a tutor of some kind. I thought it the height of irony, and not a little amusing that Ptolemy had to come to his own palace seeking an audience with Caesar, despite Caesar taking pains to avoid the appearance of Ptolemy being a supplicant. I was not present at the meeting, but Caesar’s secretary Appolonius was friends with Diocles, so I heard of what took place in a matter of a watch. During the time Caesar waited for Ptolemy to arrive, he had Appolonius and the rest of the staff turn the palace upside down looking for a document, which in a palace the size of Ptolemy’s, crammed full of a few hundred years' worth of documents was no small feat. But they did find it, and Caesar had this document in front of him when the young Ptolemy finally made his appearance.

  “He’s a spindly, weak-looking thing,” sniffed Appolonius, sipping the wine Diocles had poured.

  He was sitting in my quarters, but in the front room that served as the Legion office where Diocles spent most of his time. I was in my private quarters, but the walls were thin, the door open, and I suspect that he knew full well that I was listening. Something that I was learning from Diocles was that much could be learned, and one’s life could be made much easier, if one treated their slaves and servants well. As quick as slaves are to swap tales of woe about cruel masters with each other, they are just as quick to speak well of kind ones, and when all is said and done, slaves run Rome and the Republic. Also, when one has a reputation for kindness to his own slaves, he finds that the slaves of others are much more willing to do small favors for him, though I do not really know why, so I know that what Appolonius was saying was as much for my ears as it was just two slaves gossiping.

  “Of course, it’s hard to tell what he really looks like with all that horrid makeup; he even had a beard made of wool on his face,” he exclaimed. Taking another sip, he laughed at the memory. “Oh, he tried his best to be regal and very solemn, but it was clear from the first moment that he's little more than a puppet and it’s Pothinus and that other one, Theodotus, that are pulling his strings. You should have seen their faces when Caesar produced the will of Ptolemy XIII; even through the makeup you could see their faces go white as bone.”

  “What does the will say?” asked Diocles, I knew for my benefit.

  “That the Senate and People of Rome should help ensure that Ptolemy XIII’s last wishes were carried out, and that Caesar was the duly appointed representative to arbitrate the dispute.”

  “And what were his wishes?”

  “That Ptolemy XIV and Cleopatra share the throne of Egypt equally, as co-regents.”

  “That seems fair enough,” Diocles commented, and I thought so as well.

  “Oh, it’s fair. But it became clear very quickly that the real source of conflict is less between Ptolemy and Cleopatra than it is between his advisers and their queen. I think that they’re worried that she’ll have more influence over her little brother-husband than they will. And from what I gather, she’s quite intelligent and sees those two for what they are. I have a feeling that they’re also worried that their respective heads may not stay on their respective shoulders if she returns.”

  “Does anyone know where she is?”

  “We don’t know exactly; all we know is that she’s hiding somewhere along the coast. And certainly Pothinus and Theodotus don’t know or she’d be dead.”

  Of course, when dealing with the Egyptians, as we were to learn, nothing is ever that straightforward. After seeing that Caesar found the will and heard his decision, Ptolemy and his toadies asked for a day to discuss matters, which in itself was not unfair. But one day stretched to two, then three, then four before Caesar finally had enough, ordering an audience, this time making no pretense that he was not the one in control. It was at this meeting that the farce that young Ptolemy was in charge finally became exposed for what it was, when Pothinus and Caesar engaged in a shouting match. Appolonius’ hands were still shaking, this time gulping the wine Diocles offered instead of taking his usual sips.

  “Well, that went to cac,” he gasped, shaking his head. “It started out with the normal ‘how do you do’s,’ then Caesar informed them that he was calling in the loan taken out by Ptolemy XIII, which they were none too happy about, but when they asked how much the amount was and Caesar told them, Pothinus hit the roof!”

  “How much was the loan?” Diocles asked.

  “Seventy million sesterces.”

  Diocles’ gasp was audible through the wall, and I was thankful for it because it covered the sound of my own. It was fairly easy to understand why the Egyptians were so put out, I thought.

  “What did Ptolemy say?”

  Appolonius scoffed, “Say? He didn’t say a word. He just sat there like a lump. It was Pothinus who did all the talking from then on.”

  There was a pause as Appolonius took a drink, but it soon became clear that he was enjoying building the suspense.

  Finally, Diocles burst out, “Well? What did he say? Or are you just going to sit there swilling wine?”

  Appolonius laughed, clearly enjoying tormenting Diocles, and I smiled at the thought as I sat working on ration requests at my desk.

  “Well, I would say that I’d rather just sit here and drink your wine, but I know that you wouldn’t just let me be, so I guess I’ll have to. Where was I? Oh, yes, so Caesar tells them the amount, and Pothinus jumps out of his seat and suddenly gets all haughty and says, ‘I suggest that you go and attend to your other affairs, Caesar. You won’t be getting any money from us now; we’ll pay you at some other time.’”

  The astonishment in Diocles’ voice was clear. “And how did that go over?”

  Appolonius gave a shaky laugh. “How do you think it went over? Caesar jumped up and said, ‘When I need an Egyptian woman to be my counselor, I will keep you in mind, Pothinus. Until then you should hold your tongue!’ You would have thought Caesar had struck him he was so shocked. Then Caesar threw the lot of them out of the room.”

  “So now what?”

  Appolonius did not answer, so I assumed he just shrugged. Finally, he said, “I have no idea.”

  Appolonius may not have had any idea but thank the gods Caesar did. It was time for him to introduce the third actor in the drama that was playing out, and she was more than eager to be used by him for whatever he had planned, while I would have a minor role in his production.

  ~ ~ ~ ~

  I was summoned to headquarters in the palace without being told why, and I hurried over from my quarters. It was shortly before midnight, but I had not retired yet, making it only a moment to throw on my uniform and get there. Sertorius was the Centurion of the guard, and when I arrived, he was standing with a man wrapped in a nondescript cloak, his head covered by a cloth wound round it, with one end pulled down to partially obscure his face. I had seen many Egyptians wear this style of clothing, but for some reason I did not get the impression that the man with Sertorius wore these clothes naturally. His bearing was haughty, and when he pulled the veil from his face as I approached, I could see that hi
s demeanor matched his posture. At his feet was what looked like either a large carpet or bedding rolled up, but I gave it only a passing glance.

  Sertorius spoke to me, indicating the man, “Primus Pilus, this man claims that he bears a gift for Caesar and is seeking an audience. I thought I better inform you.”

  I turned to the man, who spoke in flawless Latin. “My name is Apollodorus. I am an adviser to Queen Cleopatra, and I come bearing a gift for Caesar from my liege.”

  I looked at him, then down at the bundle, and I remember thinking that it seemed like a paltry gift from a queen whose skin needed saving. Nevertheless, I indicated that he should pick it up and follow me. I probably should have been suspicious when he did not protest at being told he had to carry the gift on his own, since palace types like Apollodorus are about as pampered a lot as you will find, but knowing now what the true nature of the gift was, I can see why he did not protest. Leading him into the palace complex, I guided him towards the wing that served as a combination of Caesar’s private quarters and headquarters, alerting Appolonius to fetch his master. Hirtius and Nero were already there, sensing that something was afoot, and the room used as the headquarters suddenly filled up with the rest of Caesar’s staff. Caesar entered the room, and I had Apollodorus wait at the entrance while making my report. He had set the bundle down again at his feet, but otherwise did not make any move as he stood waiting. Giving my report to Caesar, he told me to allow Apollodorus to enter, indicating that I should wait nearby in the event that there was some treachery afoot. I returned to tell Apollodorus that Caesar would see him, and he bent down to pick up the bundle, then approached Caesar while I waited by the door. Apollodorus spoke, his voice pitched so that all in the room could hear, his tone that of a herald announcing the presence of some important personage, which as it turned out was exactly what he was doing.