They sneaked into the Royal Quarter, as quiet as crocodiles, and followed the perimeter of its high wall. Nearing a complex of large buildings, they hurried around the small, columned palace where Cleopatra had resided before her exile. ‘It is there I shall return,’ Cleopatra vowed in a whisper.
Titus kept the group moving and they rushed across the main promenade and soon stood in the bushes near the statue of Athena, her torchlight spilling on to the grassy glade and the small fountain in which she stood.
Everyone was out of breath. Before they could even begin their goodbyes, Wen noticed that the rudder boys had disappeared. She looked out from the bushes and saw them running across the glade to Athena’s Fountain, seeking a drink.
One of the rudder boys tripped and let out a loud yelp.
‘Look there,’ called a man’s voice from beyond the light. ‘Trespassers!’ Soon five of Ptolemy’s guards emerged from the shadows.
Titus unsheathed his gladius and tossed it to Apollodorus.
‘You take the tall one,’ Titus told him, stepping from the bushes and drawing his own small pugio blade.
‘Two men cannot defeat five,’ cried the Queen. ‘Follow me now. That is an order.’
The rudder boys dashed in terror back to the bushes and soon their group was sprinting across another green with five guards in pursuit.
‘They are gaining on us,’ said Charmion, stumbling on her tunic.
‘I know a way to escape them,’ cried the Queen. ‘Follow me!’ Soon they arrived before an opening in a tall black hedge.
‘It is the labyrinth,’ breathed Iras.
‘Take each other’s hands and follow me,’ commanded the Queen and she started to the left.
But Titus did not follow. He turned and ran in the opposite direction, back towards the guards.
‘Oh, how I wish for a cup of beer!’ he sang loudly. ‘And one and two and three!’
He is drawing them away from the Queen, Wen thought. He is going to his death.
She wrenched her hand free of the Queen’s and followed his bellows, rushing past the entrance to the labyrinth just as the guards arrived. ‘Did you see that woman?’ one of them shouted. ‘Follow her!’
She ran forward into the blackness, trying to follow Titus’s croons. ‘For when I ask for a cup of beer,’ he sang, ‘the beer maid comes to me—’
She hit a wall of dense bushes and fell to the ground. Recovering herself, she saw several shadowy figures coming towards her. She heard the hard swish of blades being pulled from their sheaths. ‘Titus!’ she shrieked. She groped with her arms, trying to find an opening in the hedge. These are the final moments of my life, she thought suddenly.
Then she felt four fingers link with hers and heard a faint but unmistakable whisper, ‘Follow me. Hurry.’ She ran in the direction in which she was being pulled, first right, then left, then right again, until the hedge surrounded them on all sides.
‘A dead end,’ Titus whispered in defeat.
‘Do not say that.’
They stood together for a long while, just listening. There was no sound at all, not even the snap of a twig.
‘Down here,’ Titus whispered at last. He was crouched at the base of the hedge. ‘There is a hollow in which we may hide.’
Wen bent to his side, feeling along the ground until it gave way, and she felt a small hollow area, just big enough for a body.
‘Where will you hide?’ Wen asked. He appeared to be cutting off small branches from the adjacent hedge.
‘I will lie with you.’
‘But only one person can fit in the hollow.’
‘We will lie closely.’
She lay down in the hollow facing outwards and he lay down beside her, arranging the cut branches atop his body in a thick layer. Of necessity, he was lying very close. She could feel his hard legs against hers. Her breasts pressed against his chest.
This is what it is like, she thought. When a man and a woman lie together. It was something she had imagined often, never believing she would experience it herself. Yet here they were, like two halves of a whole. The only difference was that they lay not in a bed, but in a hollow in the ground. And they were not man and wife, but Roman and Egyptian. Commander and slave. Born enemies.
‘They are searching the labyrinth now,’ he whispered. His face was so very close to hers. His lips. ‘But they will not find us—not unless they have dogs.’
‘Or torches.’
‘Do not fear. I will keep you safe.’
Wen did not know how to respond. Gratitude did not seem sufficient. No one had ever vowed to keep her safe—not in all her adult life. She had never been worth keeping safe.
‘But why did you follow me?’ Titus asked in barely a whisper. Her ear was just inches from his lips.
‘You gave your sword to Apollodorus,’ whispered Wen. ‘You had no defence.’
‘And you thought you could help me?’
‘I did not think.’
‘No, you did not,’ he said. They lay in silence for many moments. ‘You could have been killed.’
‘So could you.’
‘Forgive me,’ Titus breathed.
‘There is nothing to forgive. You were trying to save the Queen.’
‘No, I mean... I was not referring to my recent actions, but rather...my former words.’
‘Your speech is like this labyrinth,’ she said with amusement.
‘What I mean to say is that I have underestimated the women of Egypt and you most of all.’
Was he mocking her? She knew how he felt about women and slaves. Or did she? It was difficult to think clearly. He was too close. The solid expanse of him filled her awareness. Then she felt it. It was a growing hardness against her thigh. The hardness of him. Reflexively, she jerked backwards.
‘I am very sorry about that,’ he said. ‘I am afraid I cannot help it.’
Her heart throbbed, though it was not entirely fear that moved her. ‘I promise not to touch you,’ he continued solemnly. He reached down and adjusted himself away from her.
‘Thank you,’ she said, exhaling. She could not believe this was the same man whom she had suspected of treachery.
‘It is I who should be asking forgiveness of you,’ she whispered.
‘You owe me no apology.’
‘I treated you without respect before the Queen. You did not deserve to be tricked in such a way. I beg your forgiveness, Titus Tillius Fortis,’ she whispered. ‘Will you grant it?’
‘You remembered my whole name,’ he muttered softly.
‘If we are to die this night, I must know that there is peace between us,’ she said.
‘I am sorry, but I cannot accept your apology, for you were not disrespectful. You were only...magnificent.’
She stiffened. ‘Do you mock me, Commander?’
‘Mock you? Is it so hard to believe that I admire you?’
‘I thought I was benea—’
But she could not finish, because a hand burst over Titus’s shoulder and grabbed her throat.
In a single motion, Titus unsheathed Wen’s kitchen knife and sliced it across the guard’s hand, producing a torrent of blood. He jumped to his feet. ‘Stay behind me, Wen,’ he commanded. ‘There are many.’
Torches. They had brought torches, just as she thought they would, and must have caught sight of Titus’s shape beneath the branches.
Now the guards rushed towards them. She saw Titus kick one in the gut, sending the man and his torch to the ground. A third guard lunged forward, brandishing a sword. Titus landed a hard blow to his jaw, knocking him backwards and relieving him of his weapon. Titus turned and thrust the kitchen knife into Wen’s grasp. ‘Defend yourself,’ he commanded.
He stepped towards the third guard, going on the offence. She could hear the clanking of their swords as she watched their shadowy movements just beyond the view of the flames of the fallen torch. Titus was landing thunderous blows, but he was not fighting to kill. ‘Stand down,’ he ordered. He sent their third attacker to the ground with a slice to the leg, then moved on to the fourth.
She was so entranced by Titus’s efforts that she did not see the fumbling movements of their second attacker lying at her feet. By the time she noticed him, he was standing before her, his grasping hands stretched outward.
Suddenly, she was no longer in the labyrinth, but on the roof of her master’s brewery. The man was walking, groping at her, speaking all the horrible things he planned to do to her. ‘You think someone will come to your rescue, girl? Well, you are mistaken, for you are nobody.’
Wen stepped backwards, searching for an escape route. But this time, there was no escape. There was no ledge to jump from. There was only an impenetrable hedge. She was trapped.
The man stepped closer, his eyes watching the blade of her knife. Titus’s words echoed in her head. Defend yourself. She realised that she was not trapped. She had a knife. She was Wen of Alexandria, Advisor to the Queen, and she had a knife! She did not need anyone to rescue her. She could rescue herself.
She lunged at him, slicing her knife across his arm and causing him to recoil. And in that half-second she lunged forward with all her strength and tackled him to the ground.
‘Do not even think of reaching for your weapon,’ she hissed in his ear. She held her blade to his neck. ‘Do you think I will not use this knife?’ she growled. Her hands were trembling.
‘Do not kill me, please,’ the man begged.
‘Stay still and I will not have to,’ she said. Time slowed as she listened to the fighting beyond her view. She could hear every blow, every groan of effort. ‘Still,’ she reminded the man, though her words were unnecessary. He was utterly frozen beneath the threat of her blade.
After many moments, she heard a loud grunt and the shuffling of footsteps. ‘Wen?’ Titus said somewhere beyond the flames’ reach. ‘Wen?’
‘Titus?’
‘By the gods,’ Titus gasped as he stepped back into the light. He paused for a moment as he beheld Wen holding the guard at knifepoint. He rushed to Wen’s side. ‘You have done well, Wen of Alexandria.’
He took the man by the throat. ‘You will lie down and stay put, do you hear me?’
The man gurgled his assent, and Titus turned to Wen. ‘Come now, we must find the Queen.’
He helped her past the attackers’ writhing, groaning figures. ‘Did you kill any of them?’ Wen asked.
‘Not a one,’ Titus replied. ‘They shall all have headaches tomorrow morning. Now come.’
Wen wanted to ask him why he did not kill the guards, but there was no time. He had taken her by the hand and was leading her out of the labyrinth at a fast run.
When they arrived beneath Athena’s torch, Wen heard a small gasp, then beheld a ghostly figure running towards her. ‘You brave, foolish woman,’ said the Queen, embracing her. ‘I feared I had lost you for ever.’
‘We have lost only time,’ said Wen.
‘She is right,’ said Titus. ‘We must part now, before more guards discover us.’ He turned to Wen. ‘Wen, give me your knife.’
Wen handed Titus the knife and he bent to her feet to sheath it. ‘Will I see you again?’ she whispered, fearing his answer.
‘You will,’ he said. ‘Though I fear that things will change between us.’ He pushed her knife back into its sheath and stood.
‘We must go now,’ said Apollodorus. The Queen stepped between the two strong men and linked her arms in theirs.
‘Yes, let us go,’ said the Queen to Titus. ‘Take me to your leader.’