Tanita had returned, bringing food, but Sabinah did not feel like eating.
“I am to tell you, mistress, when you have eaten, Apollodorus will be waiting for you at the stables.”
Apollodorus, not Julian. Sabinah could not speak past the knot in her throat, so she nodded.
Sabinah took a few swallows of milk, then nibbled on a date. Glancing at the bed where she had experienced such joy, she slipped the veil over her head and left Julian’s bedchamber.
“Watch over Sabinah, Apollodorus. Meet with her as much as possible.”
“You are reluctant to send her back home,” Apollodorus stated with his usual astuteness.
“If I had my way, I would take her into the desert where no one would ever find her.”
“I understand.”
Julian glanced at him. “Do you? I do not.”
“Will you see her before we go?”
Julian shook his head, his gaze going to the house. “I think it best not. Ben-Gari sent word it is imperative that I meet him at Twelve Palms, so I leave at once. As soon as possible, I shall meet you in Alexandria. I believe we can still assume Uriah’s home is a safe place to stay.”
“Farewell, my friend.”
“And to you, Apollodorus.”
Somberly the Sicilian nodded. His instinct was to accompany Julian in the event he encountered danger. The time would come when the young prince would be tested by the old sheik, Moussimi. When that happened, Apollodorus intended to be with Julian. He had met the sheik once and had disliked him on sight—his shifty eyes had held a cunning expression. Apollodorus prided himself on being able to judge people—in the past, his observations had saved Queen Cleopatra’s life numerous times.
Julian was young, but he was highly intelligent. He had been trained from birth to face situations like the one before him.
“Take care of Sabinah, Apollodorus. Keep her safe for me.”
Apollodorus’s brow creased into a frown. There was something different about his young charge. Julian’s feelings for the young woman went deep. Therein might lie future trouble; Sabinah came from the family who had betrayed Lady Larania, and so Ramtat might not look upon her with favor.
He watched Julian mount his horse and ride toward the desert. At the moment, Apollodorus must let him find his own way.
Sabinah stood in the rain on the deck of the Blue Scarab. Although she had pulled her headdress across her forehead, rain still pelted her face. The swells on the Nile rocked the boat, and she had to hold on to the railing to keep her footing.
She glanced up when Apollodorus joined her. “The rains will be welcome to the farmers.”
He met her gaze and saw uncertainty in her eyes. “Aye. Although it comes late this year.”
“Has Captain Narmeri said when we will reach Alexandria?”
“He believes it will be late tomorrow evening.”
Silently Sabinah nodded, glancing out at the grayness of the day.
“Should you not take shelter beneath the tarp?” Apollodorus asked.
She smiled at him. “I do not mind the rain.”
“Then do it for me. I would like to talk to you.”
Sabinah considered the man who had been Queen Cleopatra’s personal guard. He had always seemed unapproachable and distant. Now there was a worried expression in his eyes, and she realized he was concerned for her comfort. “Of course,” she agreed.
Apollodorus felt his heart swell with tender feelings for this small young woman who had been cast into a situation not of her making. In some ways she reminded him of Queen Cleopatra, not in looks or even in temperament—it was more that when she felt strongly about a situation, Sabinah was not to be deterred from her course. She was loyal, and her feelings for Julian ran deep.
He took her elbow and guided her to the shelter. When she was seated on a cushion, he sat across from her in the small space.
Sabinah removed her damp headdress, laying it aside, then combed her fingers through her hair in an attempt to tame the profusion of wild curls. “What did you want to speak to me about?”
“You are aware you are putting yourself in danger by returning to your stepmother’s house, are you not?”
Sabinah was surprised by his concern. “I do not expect to meet with physical harm, though few can interrogate with the dedication my stepmother employs. You and I know I must guard what I say. She can never learn I was with Julian.”
“Then let us put our heads together and think of a story that will satisfy your stepmother.”
Sabinah gave a small nod.
“Should you have need of me, you will find me at the marketplace every afternoon. Most other times I will be at Uriah’s house. Apparently your family does not know of that location.”
“They would have no reason to know.”
“As you say.”
“Is Julian in danger?”
She deserved the truth, and he would not hold back. “He might be. Most probably.”
“Then why are you not with him?”
“Because Julian wished it so. He has many loyal friends to stand at his side. You have only me.”
Her eyes filled with tears, and she choked them back. Since her father’s death, no one had cared what happened to her. “I thank you.” She touched his hand. “I have never had a loyal friend before.”
Apollodorus felt a tightness in his chest as he wondered what Sabinah’s daily life was like, living with her stepsister and stepmother. “I am honored that you consider me a friend.”
* * *
It was full dark when Sabinah entered her house. She was grateful to discover Trisella was away from home but sorry that she would have to face Bastet alone.
Her stepsister stormed into the small chamber where Sabinah often found sanctuary among her father’s scrolls.
“So you decided to come home!” Bastet circled Sabinah, her face drawn up in anger. “You have once more disgraced this family. Look at your tangled hair, and those rags you wear. Let us hope none of our friends saw you in this condition.”
Sabinah had been looking out the window, dreading this moment. “I care little what your friends think of me.”
“You might have considered my mother’s feelings. It would have been better for us if you had never returned at all.”
Trisella chose that moment to return home. “Just where have you been?” she demanded as she entered the chamber.
“I had to get away,” Sabinah said, focusing on Trisella while remembering what she and Apollodorus had decided she would say—which, in fact, was not far from the truth. “Tribune Vergilius has become too attentive to me, and I am afraid of him.”
Trisella stalked across the stone floor, gripping Sabinah’s arm. “Fool! The man wants to marry you. I cannot understand why he bothers with you after the way you treat him. Can you guess what he did when he learned you had gone away?” Trisella did not wait for an answer. “He was stricken to the heart.” She shook Sabinah until her head snapped back. “Where did you go and who have you been with?”
Sabinah stepped away from Trisella. “At first I walked the streets.” That much was true. Then she began the fabrication. “When night fell, I was afraid to come home, fearing you would force me to marry that Roman pig.”
Bastet’s voice had a disgruntled edge to it when she said, “I have always known you were simpleminded. Vergilius would have been better satisfied if he had sought me for his wife. I recognize a man with a shining future when I meet him.”
“By the gods, I wish he had chosen you!” Sabinah declared. “I detest the man. I wish he would leave me alone.”
Trisella’s eyes bored into her. “I told the tribune we sent you out of Alexandria to visit relatives, which seemed to satisfy him. But he keeps asking when you will return.”
When Sabinah made no reply, Trisella’s eyes narrowed. “You speak of everything but where you have been hiding these many days.”
Apollodorus had given her names of people he trusted and told her he
would make certain they would repeat her story should anyone ask questions.
“Do you know the fishmonger and his wife?”
Trisella shook her head in disgust. “Why should I know such people? Do I look like I do the marketing? Do I look like I would be friends with such people?”
Sabinah had to keep the story straight in her mind. “They were kind to me. Gave me food and allowed me to sleep in their small shed at the back of their house.”
“Which is why you smell of fish,” Bastet said with disgust. “Associating with such people makes you just as revolting in my eyes.”
Bastet’s criticism had no effect on Sabinah, rather she felt relieved that Bastet seemed to believe her story. It had been wise of Apollodorus to splash fish oil on her cloak. “Stepmother, will you excuse me? I am weary and need to bathe.”
“Go. And do not come into my presence until you are presentable. You are a disgrace to this family. Let us hope Tribune Vergilius does not hear of your … adventure.”
Sabinah hurried out of the room before her stepmother decided to question her further.
When she reached her bedchamber, Isadad was waiting for her. “Most precious child, where have you been?” she asked, clasping Sabinah to her. “I feared you were dead!”
Sabinah did not dare tell Isadad the truth. She told her she had been staying with the fishmonger’s family. Although Isadad nodded, Sabinah could see she did not entirely believe her.
The servant wrinkled her nose. “You will want to get out of those filthy rags and into the bath.”
Sabinah took a deep breath. Convincing her stepmother and stepsister to believe her lies had been easier than she had expected. Convincing Vergilius that she had changed her mind about him would be more difficult and more dangerous.
Chapter Twenty-One
Rome
A year had passed since Octavian had been given supreme power by the Senate. He had proclaimed himself Augustus Caesar, which to his way of thinking made him “master of the world.” By becoming emperor of Rome, he had achieved a greatness that had eluded his illustrious great-uncle, Julius Caesar.
His mouth thinned in a satisfied smile. He held the power to bring down empires and strike fear in the hearts of his enemies. At the age of forty-three, he had outgrown the illnesses that had plagued his youth. He had everything he could desire except a son of his blood.
Sometimes at night when silence surrounded him, disquiet crept into his thoughts, and try as he might, he could not rid himself of the fear that his empire would crumble if he did not keep a firm grasp on every province.
Egypt.
Augustus’s real worry was that if he lost Egypt, he would lose the most important territorial dominion under his rule. He felt a real fear growing inside him. Where but in Egypt could Rome find such an abundance of riches and a constant supply of food?
Augustus glanced down at his hands and watched them tremble. He had a greater fear that he had not mentioned to anyone. Twice when he had awakened, he had found a dagger driven into his pillow. The words still swirled around in his brain, Lift the death sentence on the Tausrat family or die.
His body shook. How could anyone get so close to him while he slept?
Augustus was not a man to be threatened, and he had no intention of allowing anyone with Ptolemy blood to live. He had doubled the guard outside his bedchamber, satisfied that now no one could get past them.
Thus far, the Tausrat family had eluded him. How could they have disappeared without leaving a trace? Roman legions had searched for them throughout Egypt, but it was as if the sands of the desert had opened up and swallowed them. That cursed family had become a legend in Egypt, and even in Rome. It stuck in his throat that the eldest son was now a man and had the power to raise armies if he so chose.
One of Augustus’s generals had convinced him to speak to an oracle. Augustus was not a man who believed in such practices, but what could it hurt to listen to the woman?
Seated on a soft sofa in his small library, he watched the soothsayer he had summoned move with an awkward gait toward him. Ka’tu’s stringy white hair frizzed about her head, and her back was hunched from a birth mishap. Augustus watched her pause in the middle of the room and stare at the two stoic-faced guards who stood on either side of him.
He motioned her forward. “Approach me. Let us see if you are as clever foretelling the future as my general believes you to be.”
The old woman limped toward him and dropped gratefully onto the stool that had been provided for her. She had not yet glanced at the emperor, but stared down at her own gnarled hands, which rested in her lap.
“Look at me,” Augustus ordered.
Slowly she raised her head, and Augustus stared into a pair of eyes as black as a bottomless pit. He resisted the urge to shiver. “One of my officers has faith in your ability to see into the future. What do you see in mine? I put little credence in soothsayers, but it would amuse me to hear what you have to say.”
Ka’tu shook her head, her white locks bobbing up and down. “I dare not.”
“Do you fear me?”
“Aye,” she admitted. “If I tell you something you do not want to hear, you might have me slain.”
Augustus said with amusement, “If you can really read the future, you would know I have no intention of harming you. Tell me that which I seek.”
Her voice was deep, almost whisper-soft. “I have learned that men of power sometimes change their minds.”
She was beginning to irritate him. “My word is my honor, old woman. Tell me what you think you know.”
“I can tell you if your life will be happy,” she said hopefully.
Augustus gave her a dark look. “I am not so frivolous as to ask such a question. Think you I do not know a man is neither happy nor entirely unhappy for any duration?”
Ka’tu drew in a relieved breath. She would not want to be the one to tell him his death would come at the hands of his own wife, the empress Livia. Poison would be her method, and the reason would be ambition, to place her own son, Tiberius, in power. But that would not come to pass for many years, so why should she risk the emperor’s anger by speaking against his wife? She had seen a dire fate ahead for this man. But she would tell him no more than he asked of her.
“Others before you have said that those who rule after me will lose their grip on Egypt. Have you seen this as well?”
She took a relieved breath. He wanted only to know about power, and she could tell him that. “Aye, Exalted One, Egypt cannot be contained, nor can any of the provinces Rome has gathered under her … yoke … er … protection. But none of this will happen in your lifetime.”
“Will those of Ptolemy blood regain control of Egypt?”
“That is behind a gray curtain.”
“You give me nothing. Tell me if I must fear the Tausrat family, especially the eldest son, Julian.”
She closed her eyes and was quiet for a long moment. When she glanced back at the emperor, it was as if her irises were swirling. “In this you have two choices.” She counted on her first finger: “You can pursue this family unto death, but should you do this, I see an angry people pouring out of the desert in great numbers, seeking revenge and wreaking havoc, spilling Roman blood. There is a chance these desert people will unite Egypt, and should that happen, Rome will surely lose its grip on that land, and the Ptolemy house will once more rule.”
Augustus felt sweat gathering at the nape of his neck and trickling down his back. This simple woman could not know of the Tausrat family’s ties to the desert Badari. He stood and began pacing, trying to gather his thoughts. “You can no more see the future than I,” he accused.
“Then I am free to leave?” she asked hopefully, struggling to her feet.
“Sit down,” he said, mystified by her prediction, and more than a little irritated. “You said I have two choices.”
“Aye. You do.”
“Well, imbecile, what is the second?”
Ka’tu d
id not like anyone calling her names, but she managed to hide her anger. “You can make certain you cause no harm to that bloodline. Even now the Egyptians simmer with hatred over the loss of their queen. It would only take a word from the Tausrat family to prod them into war against Rome.”
The old woman’s words struck fear in Augustus’s heart. Whether or not she spoke of things she could foretell, he did not know. But her predictions felt like the truth.
“Be gone,” he said, waving his hand dismissively.
She stood but made no attempt to leave.
“I said go!” he repeated with force. He wanted her out of his sight so he could think.
“I am but a poor woman, Mighty Augustus. To speak truth, I have but little bread to feed myself.”
He picked up a bag of coins and tossed it to her, then motioned to one of the guards. “Escort her out.”
After the old woman had gone, Augustus spoke to the remaining guard. “Have General Marcellus Valerius brought to me at once.”
As the guard rushed to do his emperor’s bidding, Empress Livia entered the chamber, making her way quickly to her husband’s side. “Why do you send for General Marcellus? You know he has no liking for either of us. Do you forget he married into the Tausrat family, which makes him our enemy?”
Livia was tall for a woman. While Augustus decked himself out resplendently, she chose to dress modestly. Her wavy hair was pulled away from her face and secured to the back of her head. She was a beautiful woman and had the habit of staring into the eyes of whomever she was conversing with at the time, making most people nervous in her company.
“True, General Marcellus is married to Lord Ramtat’s sister. He will give no information about the family’s whereabouts, but I am certain he knows where they are, and I wish to question him,” her husband said with annoyance.
“Perhaps if you have him tortured, he will tell what he knows.”
Augustus waved his hand in dismissal. “My dear,” he said solicitously, giving her an indulgent smile. “Marcellus has powerful friends in the Senate, and he is a favorite with the people. He is a hero, and even I do not dare attempt to crush him. Romans especially revere his wife, though she is Egyptian. It is widespread knowledge that Lady Adhaniá risked her own life in an attempt to save Caesar. The people will never forget that.”
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