Tomb of the Lost

by Julian Noyce

  “Theodotus! Theodotus!” he wailed.

  He opened the double doors and stopped, shocked to find no guards. The corridor was empty except for a female servant arranging flowers on a side table. She saw him approach and instantly dropped to her knees and spread her hands on the floor, her head low.

  “Where are my guards?” he asked her.

  She kept her face down.

  “I don‘t know my King.“

  “Theodotus! Where’s Theodotus?”

  He stopped and looked ahead. Theodotus had rounded the corner and seeing Ptolemy he walked quickly towards him.

  “Theodotus where have you been? I was worried. I had nightmares.”

  Theodotus caught him by the arm and led him back towards the bedroom.

  “Stop! What are you doing? STOP!” Ptolemy stamped his feet.

  “This is not the place to discuss….”

  “I want answers.”

  “My King it would be better if we could discuss things in private.”

  “No! Stop! I won’t go! I demand an answer. Where have you been?”

  Theodotus stopped and sighed. He glanced at the servant still grovelling on the floor.

  “Get out,” he ordered her.

  She fled. Only too happy to get away.

  “I have been to see Caesar my King.”

  “Caesar! What did he say?”

  “Nothing my Lord. I didn’t get to see him. He would not grant me an audience. I saw his General who told me that you have until nightfall to leave with all your belongings or they would be confiscated. I took your crown with me to see if he would honour the privileges a King should have but that General of his, Dolabella, just laughed and said your crown wasn’t worth its weight in shit.”

  Ptolemy snatched his crown and put it on his head.

  “If they do not respect my crown then they do not respect me!”

  He turned and ran, catching Theodotus completely unawares. Theodotus being a man of considerable age and girth watched him go, unable to give chase.

  Ptolemy reached the outside and paused at the bright morning sunshine as it dazzled him at first. He put his hands up in front of his eyes to shield them. He saw people on the street below gathering and he ran down the steps towards them.

  There was a group of eight men at the bottom in a circle talking. One of them saw Ptolemy at the last moment as he crashed into them sending two of them sprawling. They only just managed to stop themselves from crashing to the ground.

  “Hey look out!” the man who had first spotted him shouted out.

  Ptolemy himself had crashed to the ground and a burly man of the group picked him up roughly. He drew back his fist but stopped in amazement at who he faced.

  “It’s King Ptolemy!” someone shouted. More and more faces began to turn.

  “What’s he doing here?”

  The man who’d picked him up, intended to punch him, recoiled in horror. It was punishable by death for a commoner to put his hands on a member of the Royal family.

  “I’m sorry your majesty I didn’t know it was you.”

  “Why is he here?” someone shouted.

  “Where are his guards?” said another.

  “Is he alone?”

  His crown had fallen and someone picked it up for him. A large group had already gathered and as the word was getting around people were abandoning what they were doing and running over to view the scene.

  King Ptolemy!

  Fat boy!

  The bastard!

  Was in their midst.

  Alone and humbled.

  “Move back!” Someone shouted, “Give fat boy some room.”

  “Where is his poof?” someone else called.

  “Yes. Yes. Where is Pothinus?” came another.

  Soon the mob was shouting and hurling abuse as one. Someone passed Ptolemy his crown and he put it on back to front. This caused an uproar of laughter and jeering. He took it off again and put it on the right way to more laughter. Then he took it off and threw it to the ground. People moved out of its way as it rolled past. He collapsed to his knees, sobbing.

  The crowd fell silent.

  ‘What? What is he doing?’ many of them were thinking.

  Individual voices could be heard amongst the crowd that was growing bigger by the second.

  Theodotus arrived at the top of the steps, saw Ptolemy surrounded by the crowd and called for guards. They promptly arrived.

  “Quick get down there the King is….”

  The Egyptian guards rushed past him.

  “Wait!” he shouted.

  They stopped.

  “Form a line here at the top of the steps in case the mob tries to get into the palace.”

  “What about the King?” the Captain of the guards asked.

  “The King is quite safe.”

  Theodotus was gambling but a thought had occurred to him.

  ’If Ptolemy is killed by the mob perhaps I can win over Caesar. There must be a position in his administration for a man like myself.’

  He allowed himself a smile as he saw the crowd getting seemingly more hostile towards the boy King.

  “Why is he crying?” someone shouted.

  “What’s the matter with the spoilt little brat?” an anonymous voice called.

  Ptolemy suddenly looked up. His tears running down his face.

  “Caesar has betrayed Egypt! Betrayed us!”

  “Heh? What’s he mean by that?” someone asked.

  “Caesar has re-instated Cleopatra as sole monarch.”

  “What? Never! Pothinus would never allow that.”

  “Pothinus is dead,” Ptolemy wailed, “Caesar had him executed. Killed him without fair trial. Under Roman law. Roman not Egyptian!”

  The mood of the crowd was starting to change.

  “What right does he have to do that? What right?” an angry man shouted.

  “Who does he think he is?” the man’s wife asked.

  “This is Egypt not Rome!” shouted another.

  “He’s humiliated our King!”

  “Ptolemy is Egyptian not Roman!”

  “I hate the Romans! The Romans stink!”

  “Look up there on the steps!” someone cried.

  They saw Theodotus and surged forward. The guards rushed down the steps and formed a new line of spears.

  “How could you let this happen?” someone shouted and others joined in. Soon the crowd was shouting as one.

  “I was unable to stop it!” Theodotus shouted though no one heard him.

  Marcellus appeared at the top of the steps alongside Theodotus with eight guards.

  “LOOK!” someone shouted and pointed.

  Now most of the mob saw Marcellus and the mood turned to anger. They surged forward and engaged the single line of Egyptian spears and though the guards held them at bay Theodotus shouted for more. They ran down the steps and soon guards were five deep, then six, then seven and now they held the mob easily.

  Someone threw a large stone which would have hit Marcellus in the head had the legionary next to him not seen it coming and not raised his shield in time. It bounced off harmlessly. Now all sorts of missiles rained down on the steps as the Egyptians threw anything that came to hand.

  Someone threw a hammer which hit one of the Egyptian guards in the face. He fell where he stood, his nose broken. He left a pool of blood on the steps as two of his colleagues helped him up and rushed him to safety. The line faltered where the three had retreated and the mob was able to push the guards back a step and they gained ground but the line held once more.

  Marcellus could see the anger was directed mainly at him. Was it him or Rome he asked himself. The faces and the fists left him in no doubt. He watched for a further minute then turned and strode from the steps to the delight of the crowd.

  He passed dozens of his legionaries who rushed past and set up a cordon at the top of the steps. Despite the increase in Roman numbers the mob saw Marcellus’ retreat as a victory.

&nb
sp; “LOOK! Look at how the great General runs from us.”

  Ptolemy was suddenly at the front of the crowd. The mob began to move back from the guards. Now they were two paces away. Slowly they fell into silence, waiting to see what their King had to say. He held his hands up to speak.

  “The Romans think they own Egypt. They think they can decide who rules us. They mean to make slaves of you. To take your hard earned money as tax. To steal Egypt’s gold. Gold they have not worked or sweated or bled for. They believe themselves Gods over men, can decide our fate. I say we decide our own fate. My sister chose her fate when she turned her back on us. You Alexandrians are happy people. Are our laws not lax? Are you not free citizens? Is our city not the best in the world? She wanted to change all this. She didn’t want what my father left. She didn’t want Pothinus or Achillas guiding our future. She wants to integrate herself with old Egypt, its customs, its people. Things that people have neglected, she wants to bring back. Is our future not better? We have not followed these customs for over two hundred years. When the governor of Syria sent his sons here to round up legionaries to attack Parthia and they were subsequently murdered it was she, Cleopatra, who sent the soldiers responsible for punishment. Does this not tell you that she has given in to Roman pressure? Succumbed to their leader? Julius Caesar. This night she even shared her bed with him.”

  He paused while the crowd roared their anger. He raised his hand for them to listen once more.

  “It is her fault the crops have failed in the fields. The Gods are angry with her and it is you that will pay the price.”

  There was another uproar.

  “Achillas stands on the edge of this city with twenty thousand men loyal to Alexandria. Help me! Help him! To rid our city, our country of the tyranny of Rome!”

  The crowd erupted into a frenzy. Hands suddenly picked Ptolemy up and he was paraded around on shoulders above the crowd to the cheering of his name.

  “Ptolemy! Ptolemy! Ptolemy!”

  When Julius woke he was laying on his back, the bed comfortable. Cleopatra was laying on her side facing him, her arm across his waist, her head resting on his chest. Her mouth was open ever so slightly, her breathing slow and relaxed. There were a few fronds of her hair across her face and he moved them with his free hand, leaned forward and kissed her forehead. She stirred slightly but didn’t wake. His kiss becoming part of her dream.

  He lay still remembering their love making. She had bitten him many times, playfully. Something he’d never experienced before despite having bed many women in his life. Then she’d pushed him onto his back and climbed on top of him and didn’t stop until they were both spent.

  The memory of it was making him erect again and he lifted the sheet to look at her naked body. He stopped when he heard a commotion from outside the door. He strained to listen, the voices were muted. He cocked his ear and opened his mouth slightly. Cleopatra murmured then turned over. Then he recognised Marcellus’ voice and he gently removed Cleopatra’s arm from his side and propped himself up on an elbow. Then at the sound of a scuffle and raised voices from the other side of the door he was up and reaching for a toga.

  “I am sorry General but the Queen is not to be disturbed.”

  Apollodorus was standing firmly in front of Marcellus flanked by four of Cleopatra’s guards.

  “It is not your Queen I wish to disturb. I need to speak with my master who is with your Queen.”

  “Once again I am sorry General but it is impossible for you to go in. The Queen’s bedroom is accessible to only a handful of servants.”

  “Is it accessible to you?”

  “Of course General.”

  “Then you go in.”

  “I’m afraid not,” Apollodorus replied. He looked past Marcellus as he saw Germanicus approaching with eight Roman guards. Germanicus drew up alongside Marcellus.

  “What is the commotion outside?”

  “Ptolemy went outside and told the early morning crowd of what Caesar has done. They’ve taken Ptolemy’s side and pelted me and my men with stones. I’ve come to warn Caesar.”

  “Does he now know?”

  “No. Apollodorus won’t grant me access.”

  “We must speak to Caesar at once. Move aside,” Germanicus said.

  “I’m sorry General Germanicus that is quite impossible. The Queen has strict instructions to never be disturbed in bed.”

  Germanicus glanced at the four Egyptian guards who only stared ahead impassively.

  “Seize him,” he suddenly ordered.

  Two of his men grabbed Apollodorus. The Egyptian guards sprang into action though didn’t attack. They pointed their spears at the Romans. The remaining six Romans quick as a flash drew their swords and they were pointing at Egyptian throats. It was a standoff. Suddenly the door opened and Caesar was there.

  “Sire thank goodness. I’ve come to warn you of a disturbance at the palace steps.”

  “Yes I heard everything through the door.”

  Apollodorus was struggling against the hands that held him.

  “Your men have stopped me from doing my duty.”

  “I’ve said so before Apollodorus. You’re a good man. Let him go. The Queen has not been disturbed. You have not failed in your duty to her. Put away your swords gentlemen.”

  Apollodorus nodded to the Egyptian guards who brought their spears back into the upright position.

  “Sire the mob was pushing for access to the palace but at least fifty or sixty guards were keeping them back.”

  “Palace guards?”

  “Probably,” Apollodorus replied.

  “Well seeing as there are no rioters in the palace thus far we must assume that not everyone is loyal to Ptolemy. Are the guards Cleopatra’s?”

  “No Caesar. They are palace guards. Their unit was set up by Pothinus. They are loyal to the protection of the palace only and not to either monarch.”

  “That’s good. Pothinus was useful for some things it seems.”

  More Romans arrived, Lucius at their head. Servants were carrying Caesar’s finest armour. He raised his arms for the breastplate to be fitted then put his arms down.

  “Wait.”

  He reached for the laurel leaf crown on a single purple cushion. Lucius picked up the crown and handed it to his master.

  “I think today calls for diplomacy gentlemen. How does my toga look?”

  “Fine sir.”

  “Good.”

  He waved his hand in dismissal at his armourers. To the Generals he said.

  “You will accompany me to the palace steps. Guards will keep a respectful distance.”

  “Yes Sir.”

  They all saluted and fell in behind him. Apollodorus watched until they’d disappeared around the corner and out of sight.

  “He has got majesty,” he said out loud, “The Gods I really like him.”

  He looked at the four Egyptian guards who only stared ahead as before, impassively.

  The crowd had settled some and Ptolemy had been allowed to move through the Egyptian guards. He and Theodotus now stood three steps up from where they could see the size of the crowd and the crowd could see and hear him.

  A great cheer went up as he finished promising them a return to their chosen lives. A life without Rome.

  Then as one the mob surged forward again, angry and shouting. The Egyptian guards had to rush forward once again to contain them. Ptolemy and Theodotus had instinctively moved back a step in surprise at the sudden hostile movement.

  ‘It had been going so well,’ Ptolemy said to himself as he watched the shaking fists. Then he realised this new aggression wasn’t directed at him or Theodotus.

  They looked at each other, the boy King and his teacher, and then slowly turned their heads and looked over their shoulders.

  Julius Caesar was standing at the top of the steps glaring down at the two of them. Theodotus, remembering the fate of Pothinus, suddenly wished he was anywhere but there. He felt Caesar’s eyes boring directly int
o him. Ptolemy, knowing his fate had already been sealed glanced back at the crowd, a strange smirk on his face. Theodotus was becoming increasingly uneasy at Caesar’s stare. Then Caesar took his eyes off the King’s schoolteacher and glared at the crowd. Theodotus let out a sigh of relief. He felt the sweat trickle down his spine. As Caesar came slowly down the steps Theodotus tried to make himself as small as he could as he moved out of the way. Caesar glanced at him only once in passing. Theodotus retreated up the steps like an animal hoping not to be detected. He stopped at the top when he saw Caesar’s Generals were also glaring at him.

  The Egyptian guards were battling hard against the jeering, shouting mob again. Caesar took in the debris on the steps, which were littered. He guessed the Alexandrians couldn’t have much left to throw.

  Ptolemy was cringing away from the Roman who suddenly bounded towards him and threw an arm around the youth’s shoulder. Ptolemy flinched but Julius pulled him into his embrace with a broad, beaming smile. Ptolemy’s instinct was to cower away but the crowd fell into a hushed silence.