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Mudjet and I spread our himations on the ground in one of the easterly courtyards so we might enjoy some of the afternoon sun without the heat being too fierce. We laid on our stomachs with our arms folded under our chins as we talked.
"Do you think the Red Lord can truly protect you from Salvius?" she asked abruptly, her eyes troubled under their long lashes.
"I do not know. He certainly seems willing to try, which is more than I have on my own."
Mudjet shuddered. "We or he must do something. Wedding nights can be brutal enough without the groom being a terror to everything that breathes. Have you spoken to Ganymedes of this?"
"Yes, though all he can do is work to rally the other eunuchs to our point of view. And I doubt Pothinus is overly worried about my future."
"He should be. A princess has currency in the wider world, you would be much more valuable as a treaty bride than one practically given away to a local retainer."
She was right, though in my heart I longed for neither option. I knew I could not live with Salvius in Egypt, but I dreaded in a different way a marriage that would send me away from the Black Land. I was already half a foreigner here. Yet this was my home. My ties were here, the light of my ka danced here, where the legendary river cut through the desert until it touched the glittering sea. I loved the Egyptian people, as well as those who traveled to this land to dwell because they too were drawn by its ancient song. Restless days came upon me, yes, and I would dream of traveling all over the world and seeing all that the gods had fashioned, but never did those daydreams not end with my return to this land of warmth and magic. This was where I belonged.
Aloud I answered, "Pothinus wants little to do with other lands. Perhaps he will not care."
"But he loathes Salvius as well, and he would not like anything that gives the young lord more influence or power. We might be able to persuade him to bar this plan out of spite if nothing else."
Suddenly, the sound of approaching voices came from our left. They were not many, but I quickly picked out my sister's glittering cadence among them. "Quickly, over here," I said motioning to the large, squat date palms massed in the opposite corner of this courtyard garden.
We grabbed our himations and hid ourselves amongst the sticky fronds, waiting for the voices to move on. However, instead of passing, they emerged into the courtyard and arranged themselves beneath the awning we had just vacated.
"I have received a letter from Pompey the Younger requesting more grain to be delivered to his father's armies in the east," Cleopatra said to Damianus as they sat down, enjoying a rare afternoon breeze as it blew by. Lord Origenes was also there, and had absentmindedly been fanning himself until my sister started speaking.
The eunuch paled. "We have none to give, Your Majesty. We have no surplus this year and already we have taken bread from the tables of the people to feed Rome. Any more and there will be riots."
"Riots will strengthen Your Majesty's brother's position," added Origenes, frowning.
"I know," replied my sister. "But if I lose Rome I will lose to Ptolemy anyway. I have no choice."
"I do not believe that to be true, my lady. The people will stand behind you if you defend their bellies."
She tossed her head angrily. "For a day or two until their bellies are full. Then they will be full of adoration for their male pharaoh. Egypt always returns to its king while there is a king to return to."
Damianus' eyes narrowed at these dark words. "We have spoke of this, my shining pupil." His voice dropped carefully. "You cannot be rid of Ptolemy as events unfold now. You have tried once and failed, they will be on their guard now."
My sister's eyes flashed bitterly. "I know this also, but I will not be lured into the mistakes of the past. I have combed the Library for the buried records of Egypt's lost Pharaoh-Queen. Her greatest mistake was to allow her male rival to survive to desecrate her memory. It is not a mistake I intend to repeat."
Mudjet and I exchanged frightened glances. Cleopatra's anger with Ptolemy ran deeper than I realized if she was seriously contemplating his removal. A part of my heart clung to the hope that it was simply our brother's removal from power that she sought. Surely we had not broken apart from one another so irretrievably that we would follow in the bloody footprints of our House. The acrid taste of blood slipped across my tongue and my mind began to drift towards the memory of the mad ogre and the maiden in the torn chiton from my dreams... No, do not think on that. It was not real. It could not have happened that way. We are modern, civilized people. Not wild barbarians.
"You know the love I bear your person, my Queen," began Origenes, trying to disguise the anxiety I could see breaking out in a thin film of sweat along his hairline. "I will do anything to see you secure on the throne of your fathers, but you must be wary as you walk this path. I am aware that desperate measures may someday be our only course, but do not seek them out eagerly. The man who ascended the falcon throne the second time, the late king, your exalted father, was not the same man who had sat on it upon his first coronation. Spilling blood changes us all; how much more so when the blood we spill is our own."
Even from where we were I could see impatience in the heart of Cleopatra's face, though she smoothed it out for her companions. "These are wise counsels, my friends. Do not think I ignore their advice; I only pray I might be granted enough time to heed them, though I fear time is luxury I may not possess the coin to purchase."
Damianus sighed, resigned. "What will Your Majesty do?"
"I will find the corn Pompey needs, even if Apollodorus must beat it out of the peasants. Does my teacher think I wish for them to die of starvation? We will all die if we alienate Rome."
"Some say it goes ill for Pompey," said Origenes quietly. "Maybe he is an eclipsed star."
"He is not as young as he once was, but there is no one held in higher esteem in Latium among the largest number of people. Not even the fiend Caesar. And he has ever been our friend. I require true allies, sir. I am already tied into one marriage of convenience."
At that time a slave appeared with wine and refreshments, which was a distraction we used to make our escape from the courtyard. We hurried down the long corridor until we could at last turn a corner facing away from the direction we had come.
"The Queen is foolhardy in her course. The people will not stand for this," whispered Mudjet fiercely.
I stared at the ground, still feeling the force of my sister's words. "She feels she has no choice. She wants Rome's help deposing our brother, she must then build a foundation for that ambition made of correct friendships and shows of strength. The Romans help those who help themselves. If she bends to Ptolemy even a little, she thinks they will do nothing."
"Are you going to tell the Pharaoh what you heard?"
I hesitated. "Although I do not love Ptolemy, I would if I thought he was in immediate danger. We are still blood and unlike my sister apparently, I have no desire to have his blood on my hands. But I think Damianus will keep her from doing something so rash."
"I think that is good, my lady. If only as to not make an enemy of the Queen."
"I was surprised that even Origenes balked at her plans. He is usually completely her creature."
"She will bring Lord Origenes around, she always does, but Damianus is worried."
"I think his heart harbors genuine affection for Cleopatra. He is afraid for her," I answered abstractly.
"He should be," returned Mudjet. "We should all be afraid."
––––––––
My sister always kept the promises she made to herself, so she reached out her hand to Egypt and squeezed the land until the parched earth surrendered enough grain to send the legions of Rome. But it was the last stalk of wheat that broke the camel’s back. Undulating waves of violence swept through the provincial cities of Upper Egypt as our desperately hungry farmers burned down buildings bearing the royal cartouches and dragged levy officials out into the street to be murdered by frenzied mobs. In Alexandria, the merchants and traders pounded on the gates of the palace screaming to the stoic guards that the pharaohs meant to ruin them, first by setting the exorbitant tariffs that had meant they could not compete with the crown for the business of Rome, and then by taking all the material goods of Egypt so they had nothing to sell at all.
As the panic that had barely been contained in the face of the drought broke through the dam of public opinion, Pothinus was quick to tell anyone who came complaining who in the royal co-rulership had brought mighty Egypt to such a pass. It did not take long for the tide to turn against Cleopatra even more vehemently than I believe she had anticipated. My brother and his camp stealthily fed our starving people tales of the greedy Romans and other foreign barbarians — their brats growing sleek on the wheat Lord Geb and the other gods had meant for the children of their soil. How the queen was always plotting with her spells and herbs, denying the people the protection of their pharaoh-father. That if only Ptolemy could rule his subjects alone, as a firstborn prince should do, Egypt would right itself and the days of plenty would return. And the people began to listen.
Even in the teeth of more hostility than perhaps was expected, my sister placed her unwavering faith in Pompey and the Senate. She believed they would protect her from what was rapidly evolving from a power struggle within the royal house to a full-blown civil war. I am sure she wrote many elegant letters to both, reminding them of their obligations and requesting their aid, all the while disguising her tone to hide her growing dismay at their silence.
––––––––
The crisis made my brother bolder and he delighted in finding petty ways to exercise his growing authority over the rest of us. One of his favorites was to demand that we take cruises on the barge upon Lake Mareotis at the edge of the city, enjoying a captive audience while he and his cronies lolled about making snide comments, mostly about Cleopatra.
One of these excursions had us boating in the heat of a seemingly endless afternoon, the sun just beginning its descent towards the horizon. The hour was unusual in that we often waited until the sun was setting to entice a breeze to find us, though Ptolemy did not give us a voice in the matter. He expressed a desire to hunt fish and waterfowl and said he wanted higher light to see by. This was a relatively small party: the four royal siblings and Salvius making up the whole of those present. I actually found myself thinking that perhaps we would enjoy some relative peace that day as the brutal young lord was not much of a conversationalist without brighter lights such as Lucius Septimus or Achillas around, and even my brother might deign to be pleasant without Pothinus there to stoke the fires of discontent.
"Ptah!" barked Ptolemy.
My younger brother and I were leaning over the side of the barge, trailing our fingers through the water.
"Stop clinging to Arsinoë's skirts like a girl and come fish with with us!"
Ptah reluctantly left my side and accepted a spear from our brother, who ruffled his hair with a heavy fondness. "Salvius is going to try to get us some ducks!” he added with a forced attempt at jocularity.
My littlest brother avoided the young lord's beady eyes and gave Ptolemy a wan smile before dropping his head to focus on the lake's surface.
"Oh, don't be timid around Salvius, little brother!" cajoled Ptolemy. "You've known him all your life!"
"I would say such familiarity has bred the correct response," said Cleopatra pointedly from under the barge's awning, her eyes dark with distaste.
Ptolemy glared at her. "Not everyone shares your taste for mincing eunuchs, sister-wife. Ptah needs older lords like ourselves to show him how a real prince should be. Besides," he paused as he turned his attention back to Ptah, "I should like it that you and Salvius become closer, because I have plans for us all to be brothers in truth someday soon."
I flinched as Ptolemy's gaze as it met mine. I turned my head out towards the lake, pretending to be engrossed by the scenery.
Cleopatra's brows contracted sharply as I saw her survey us all in surprise out of the corner of my eye. "You cannot be serious, Ptolemy!” she said with a dry laugh. “Marry Arsinoë to Salvius? What a joke!"
I could feel her gaze demanding the attention of the back of my head, so I turned back to her. Her hazel eyes swept over me, searching for understanding until I saw her give a satisfied little nod that seemed to say: Ah, you had already heard of this. That is why you are not jumping out of your very skin at this moment.
Ptolemy’s frown deepened into a scowl. "And why not? Salvius has been my loyal friend since infancy and I would like to reward him with an official place in our household."
"Then make him Lord of the Pharaoh's Wine Cup or some other nonsense. This marriage is beneath a princess of the blood royal."
I watched Salvius ball up his fists around his fishing spear until the knuckles went white, while my sister continued to defend me against our brother's wishes.
"No it isn't!" argued Ptolemy. "Salvius comes from a noble family and his bloodline is certainly purer than our sister's!"
"She is still a Ptolemy and she cannot be married to just anyone, brother," Cleopatra countered calmly. "I doubt the lords will find it proper, either."
Salvius suddenly exploded into the conversation. "Who cares what those old fogeys think! He is Pharaoh! He can do as he wishes!"
My sister studied him briefly as if he was an especially clever frog. "The Pharaoh remains a child and as such, in fact must discuss matters of state with his lords during his minority. And the marriage of a princess is a matter of state, Salvius. Not that I expect you to grasp the intricacies of kingship."
"You little—”
"Careful, my lord,” she said, glancing at her nails. “I am also Pharaoh, no matter what you and my little brother believe. I would guard your tongue."
Salvius lapsed into a murderous silence, as Ptolemy sought to bring him back around. "Don't listen to her, my friend. Pothinus has already agreed to support us in this, we simply must be patient."
Cleopatra snickered. "If I did not know better, I would say this must be true love indeed to bring our dear Salvius to such a pass. Fortunately, we all know he thinks this will make him a prince of Egypt. Perhaps it is good for the simple to have little illusions to cling to."
Salvius stared at her stonily. "I will be a prince here, my lady. You can't stop us."
She shrugged. "We shall see, Salvius. There are many threads in this plot. I certainly do not hear your supposed betrothed leaping to your defense."
He turned to me. I stiffened so as not to quail under his suppressed fury. "She will learn to."
My sister raised an eyebrow. "If you want to believe that, sir, that is your prerogative. Clearly all of the royal wives of this house are very handily controlled.”
At this, we all fell into a bitter silence that lasted another half hour until Ptolemy ordered the barge back to shore. We disembarked and were carried back to the palace by chair in the same black mood, the early evening crowds parting for us as we went. Arriving home, Ptolemy and Salvius flung themselves out of their chairs and stalked off down one of the wings, no doubt seeking out Pothinus with this new tale of my sister's too liberal tongue. I helped Ptah down and was about to retreat to our rooms when Cleopatra stopped us.
"Ptah darling, would you excuse your sister and me for a time? There are some things I wish to discuss with her."
Ptah looked to me and I gave him a nod, so he released my hand, scampering off in the opposite direction from the one our brother had taken. Cleopatra motioned for me to follow her down the parallel portico.
"Why did you not tell me of this monstrous thing?" she asked as we walked.
"I was not sure how serious they were. Salvius told me of it, but he could have been making up tales to frighten me." I paused. "Also, I did not think you would care."
She tutted. "That is unfair, little sister. I know we have our differences, but I am not so cruel as to want to see you bound to that pig. Nothing could be worse for you or for Egypt."
"So what are we to do?"
"We shall figure out some plan or another, but this will not stand. I want to talk this over with Damianus. We shall marry you off to Ptah or a foreign prince before Salvius shall be allowed to paw at you."
We turned into the hall where the eunuchs' quarters were. Most of them shared rooms with one another as our other servants did, though high-ranking eunuchs such as our tutors had their own accommodations. Damianus, as the tutor of the eldest of Ptolemy Auletes' heirs, had the largest and most private of suites. As we headed towards his rooms, we met Ganymedes in the hallway. Though clearly surprised to see us, he made the usual gestures of respect appropriate to each of us in succession.
"Teacher, have you seen Damianus?" I asked.
"No, my lady. Not since midday." He glanced at my sister. "Would Your Majesty like my assistance in locating him?"
"Thank you, Ganymedes," said Cleopatra. "I am certain we will find him in his quarters. However, you may come with us if you wish. We are going to discuss the future of your pupil here.” She gestured towards me.
My tutor bowed and took the opportunity of my sister's goodwill to fall in at my side. We reached Damianus' rooms. A slight odor I could not place wafted out to us as Cleopatra parted the curtain and we three stepped inside.
"Gods defend us!" said Ganymedes, inhaling sharply.
The room was in total disarray, with furniture overturned everywhere and wall hangings torn so that the shreds barely clung to their hooks. All of it was covered in dark streaks of something that looked like dye until my mind finally understood it to be blood. Damianus himself lay sprawled in the middle of this whirlwind, stripped of his robes and covered in at least a dozen stab wounds.
My tutor held out an arm to block both me and Cleopatra. "Stay here," he admonished as he strode over to kneel beside Damianus' prone form.
"Is he dead?" asked my sister.
"Yes, Your Majesty," he answered heavily. "And for several hours, I suspect. He is quite cold."
"Who could have done this?" I blurted out, trying not to stare at the naked corpse. Damianus' solid, wrinkled flesh gave him such a look of finality in that space. His inertness was like that of a stone or a block of wood. His eyes had rolled back in his head and his mouth hung open slackly, giving him a gaping expression I had never seen him wear in life.
In short, I had trouble processing the scene before me. It was as if I was watching a tableau with a very poor actor in the role of Damianus. I had seen violent death before, but somehow this had an insidious level of intimacy I had not encountered. Perhaps because we stood in the comfort of Damianus' quarters. This was less an execution than a personal screed. Someone had wanted to send a very specific message.
Cleopatra stepped over to Ganymedes' side as my teacher covered up the dead man with a curtain piled up on the floor. "This a warning for me. Ptolemy and Pothinus must have arranged this." Her voice had no depth and I could see the jump of her pulse against her neck.
"I suspect Achillas and Lucius Septimus took care of this for them while you were all out this afternoon," said Ganymedes.
I looked around the room desperately wishing to flee, when I saw the message scrawled in the eunuch's blood on the wall over the doorway. "I believe that message is for you also, sister," I said softly.
Poisoners can also die by the sword
She read it impassively. "I must hear from Pompey soon. Without him, I cannot defend myself against these jackals." She bent down and gently closed Damianus' eyes. "I told you we had no more time left, Teacher. Our enemies are not at the gate, they are in our very beds."