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We arrived home so late that Apollodorus had to increase the bribe to our boatman from Canopus to risk being caught by the city watch. We had traded out our desert clothes for those typical to Egyptian farmers, though all of us ladies aside from Mudjet were careful to keep our potentially damning hair covered up. The boatman might not have fully believed Cleopatra’s disguise as a Egyptian landowner’s widow coming to handle a legal dispute with her grasping in-laws, told in impeccable colloquial Egyptian, but he believed the coins the Sicilian dropped into his hand.
A coded missive from Origenes warned us that his house was constantly watched by spies from the palace, so he arranged to have his man retrieve us from the gardens of Pan before conveying us to his residence. My sister dispersed her small band of soldiers to the outskirts of Alexandria to await her instructions while she, Apollodorus, Kharmion, Mudjet, and I carefully made our way into the easternmost streets of the Soma district, brushing along the farmost reaches of the palace.
We crept into the pleasure gardens and found a dark corner to hide ourselves in while we waited for our contact. Indistinct sounds from other paths signaled we were not alone in the park’s confines, though we prayed the others out flaunting the curfew would not draw too much attention. Every so often, the honeyed words of a courtesan would waft across the silent trees and sleeping flowers, or the tiny clink of coins being dropped in a purse would sound in the enveloping night.
Suddenly, a few muffled voices louder than the others signaled that the watch was moving through the garden paths. Kharmion looked to Cleopatra in alarm. “We need to get out of here, my lady!”
My sister shook her head. “No, it will be fine. You, Arisnoë, and Mudjet lie down on the ground. They will not bother to glance at our feet. I will handle the rest.”
The maid started to object, but the tread of footsteps echoed close by and the three of us quickly threw ourselves flat against the tiled stones. As we lay there, I had the curious sensation that something was pressing me on the ground in such a way that I could not have risen even if I had chosen to. I suspected my sister was implementing the heka both to mask our presence and to prevent me from using the circumstances to attempt an escape.
When the light of the watchman’s torch entered our space, Cleopatra grabbed Apollodorus towards her and locked him in a kiss that caught him so by surprise he nearly yelped. This is what the watchman saw when he gave a small cough of annoyance to announce his presence.
My sister feigned bewilderment. “Oh my! Please excuse us, good sir!”
The watchman observed their country clothes with an urban dweller’s distaste. “The city has a curfew, miss,” he said curtly.
Cleopatra wagged her head in distress. “Oh dear! Oh dear! I had no idea! My sweetheart and I just arrived this evening and we got lost in all these twisting streets! We finally gave up trying to find our way and came to rest in this breathtaking garden. I confess I have never seen something so lovely!” She paused to blush innocently. “And I was so overcome by this place that I fear my love and I got rather carried away...” She glanced at Apollodorus demurely. “Is that not so, dearest?”
I had to hold a hand over my mouth to keep from laughing at the stupefied mumble that came from Apollodorus. Luckily, the watchman had already lost interest in the pair of them seeing that they were not shady merchants or prostitutes with money weighing down their purses. He shook my sister down for a few coins which she hastily gave over, before moving on in search of more lucrative quarry.
As soon as he was gone, Cleopatra nudged me with her foot. “You may get up if you wish.”
“Well played, my lady,” said Kharmion, dusting herself off.
“Let us hope that will last us until Origenes’ man finds us,” she answered, looking about in the garden. “The next watchman might not be so easily dealt with.”
Hardly had she spoken when another man came down the path, the light from his lantern filling the darkness once more. He saw us and crept up to where we stood. “Can my lady tell me the direction the eagle flies?” he asked Cleopatra.
“North to the graves of my ancestors, in the ancient hills of Macedonia,” she replied firmly.
The man relaxed. “We rejoice in your return, Your Majesty. My master begs you to follow me to the safety of his house.”
––––––––
We were lead carefully through the back alleys of the Soma. Most of the houses were quiet. Only the scuttling of feral cats along the walls interrupted the silence as I strained my ears to hear the lapping of the sea in the distance.
I stole a glance at Apollodorus at my side, who had been dumbstruck since the brush with the city watch. If he was not so unpleasant, I would have nearly pitied him. I had long suspected he had nursed a passion for my sister that went beyond the mere loyalty of a servant. Her kiss might have indeed fulfilled an unspoken desire, and yet undoubtedly not in the way the Sicilian had imagined it coming to pass.
“Is not the house of Lord Origenes the first place your lord brother will look for us?” Mudjet murmured as we crossed over to the street where the lord lived.
“It is risky, yes,” admitted Cleopatra softly, overhearing her, “but I trust him to have thought of a plan to thwart Ptolemy’s thugs.”
The servant took us through a rear door where Origenes stood waiting for us, looking more aged than he had when we left only a few months prior. “My Queen, I am honored to welcome you back to your kingdom,” he said, bowing low.
“Thank you, my lord,” answered my sister. “Your letters have been a succor to me in these trying months. The Demon of Gaul has not beaten us here has he?”
“No, my lady. The word in port is he will arrive sometime tomorrow, so you should take your rest this evening. Please follow me.”
Origenes led us down the hallway from the kitchens until we reached what appeared to be a dead end. He reached out to one of the bricks and pried it loose from the wall, revealing a latch that when he pulled it, moved the entire wall aside, revealing a squat set of stairs.
“Quite ingenious, sir,” said my sister, clearly interested.
“The years of your sister’s reign were dark ones, Your Majesty,” he answered somberly. “My slaves built this in secret over the course of the second year, in case my household needed to flee her madness and the docks were closed.” He grabbed a lamp and we followed him down the flight of stairs to a large, surprisingly well-furnished room. Setting the lamp down, he gestured about the space. “There is some food on the shelves over there, but my cook will bring you fresh dishes assuming there are no disturbances. If possible, I will check on you daily and find anything you require.”
“You are generous, my lord, and you can be certain you will be handsomely rewarded for it once I sort all of this out,” Cleopatra commented as she inspected a cedar chest filled with garments. “However, I do not intend to be outside of the palace long, so we will not trespass on your hospitality excessively.”
“It is no trouble, my lady,” Origenes said, shaking his head. “Indeed, I wish you would stay here until we can arrange a proper plan.”
“Do not look so grave, sir!” my sister answered with an unexpected burst of gaiety. “Arsinoë and I will go out and join the gawkers tomorrow when the Consul comes, and then I will decide how we should proceed.”
The lord knew it was pointless to argue against her plans, so he bowed deferentially and left us to ourselves. Kharmion wandered over to the food shelves to assess the jars while Cleopatra dug two long cloaks out of a second chest and studied them appraisingly. “Apollodorus,” she called over her shoulder, “I want you to head out into the city, I need my eyes to be in the streets before tomorrow.”
The Sicilian inclined his head and left without a word. Grateful to get away, I thought.
We bustled about the space, trying to settle into it, when I decided to speak my mind about something Cleopatra had said earlier. “I would rather stay here. I have no interest in seeing Caesar or our brother.”
Cleopatra stopped what she was doing and smirked. “I am not giving you a choice, little sister. Just because we are sneaking about here does not mean I am going to leave you off the hook. This is still an official function and you are a princess. Endeavor to behave like one and not a sulky child.”
In truth, I did not relish the idea of being alone anywhere with my sister since our falling out in Pelusium. I did not like going out into the city without Mudjet when doing so put our freedom and our lives in jeopardy. Cleopatra knew this, and perhaps even secretly agreed I should be wary, but she was attempting to toss off my concerns as if they were silly.
Realizing that an argument would get me nowhere, I let my objections go. “I just do not see why you are in such a hurry to fight them both. Ptolemy is an imp, but Caesar is another animal altogether. He will not be so easy.”
She pulled out a silk chiton and held it up against her body experimentally. “You worry too much, sister. Leave it to me. Men are easy, it is fighting women that is hard. You will see so tomorrow.”
––––––––
We rose early the next morning and dressed in the dim light of the secret antechamber. I gave Mudjet a furtive embrace before Cleopatra towed me out into the adjoining alley. She climbed up the ladders leaning against the house, with me scrambling after her until we were on the roof, peering out at the flotilla of warships sitting on the horizon.
Cleopatra shielded her eyes against the glare. “Well, His Lordship the Consul is punctual,” she noted sardonically. “Come now, we will have to throw a couple of elbows out if we wish to have a good view.”
We climbed back down the ladders and stepped into the streets, weaving our way through the gathering crowds. The sun climbed in the sky and blanketed Alexandria in a growing heat that the winds from the harbor could not disperse in any meaningful way.
Much of the city had come out to see the arrival of the man who was known the length and breadth of the Great Sea as the terror of the Gauls and, now that Ptolemy had butchered Pompey, the de facto ruler of Rome. We ducked behind a larger group of bystanders as our brother swept by in a chariot, flanked by Pothinus and Achillas. Theodotus, Salvius, Lucius Septimus, and many of the other lords followed a short distance behind him in their own chariots. Ptolemy was dressed richly in a Greek style to assure our coming guest that he was a cultured Western ruler and not an exotic Egyptian one. They reached the city docks and waited with the rest of us for the small fleet to sail into the harbor.
The flagship's sailors threw out lines when they were close enough, several of them leaping to shore to help the Alexandrian seamen secure the ropes. They were rapidly followed by a bevy of armored legionaries that had hardly touched their feet to land before another soldier pulled ashore a fierce-looking Anatolian horse that clattered onto land snorting fiercely.
A murmur of vulgar curiosity shot through the crowd as those close enough to see glimpsed the stallion’s famous deformity that made it appear that it had cruel bony toes growing from its fetlocks. Sensing some slackness in form, the beast reared up, bucking out at its handlers while its master pushed past it towards the anticipating Alexandrians and our brother. Cleopatra dragged me through the throng for a closer vantage point as I tried to keep the hood of my cloak from falling back. From our better position, I could see the fear gathering in Ptolemy's copper eyes as Gaius Julius Caesar stopped a few feet in front of his chariot and looked up at him, markedly unimpressed.
I, like most of the people there that sweltering day, found myself gaping — I suspect rather half-wittedly — at this man the way we would have if Zeus himself had suddenly appeared among us. We had known he was coming, and yet to have him there in the flesh was rather shocking all the same. If the Argonauts had climbed out of his ship behind him I doubt we would have batted an eye.
I glanced over at my sister, who wore a hungry expression as she looked out at the scene, her eyes flashing golden. I knew she was concocting some scheme or another. That was the look she had worn when she was planning our course in Syria.
Caesar, for his part, returned our collective stares coolly, his intelligent, cunning features set off by unexpectedly dark, penetrating eyes. He was tall and rather fair-skinned for one who spent so much time in the field, his lighter brown hair shaded with red by the sun, and skillfully arranged to diminish the fact he was rapidly losing it. The combined effect of his hair and skin made the darkness of his eyes all the more unusual. He was not a young man anymore, though he wore his age well enough. Next to him, Ptolemy appeared even more of child as he stepped out of the chariot to speak with the Consul of Rome face to face.
"Welcome to Egypt, Consul Caesar," said my brother, as he tried to match the general's indifference.
Caesar gave a slow incline of his head. "Greetings, Lord Ptolemy Theos Philopator. I am looking for General Gnaeus Pompeius. Be so good as to tell me where I might find him."
Ptolemy sneered and motioned a slave forward with a covered plate. "Oh, I would not worry about General Pompey, sir.” With a nod from him, the man uncovered the plate. "We have taken care of him for you."
I smothered a cry of alarm and people in the crowd close enough to see screamed in shock. Sitting on the plate was General Pompey's severed head wearing the look of surprise he had died with, now matched by the faces of the people around us. Cleopatra narrowed her eyes.
Caesar did not appear to share our horror and curled his lip in disgust. "Ignorant boy, do you expect me to congratulate you?" Ptolemy blanched as the Consul ripped the covering out of the servant's hand and placed it back over the plate. "The only reason I don't cut you dead where you stand is because I suspect these old fools advised you to do this thing."
Theodotus hurriedly cut in. "We did this to protect Rome and your glorious person, sir. We..."
The Consul held up a hand. "Spare me. I am fully capable of attending to my safety, not that it or the security of Rome are truly your concern. You just want my help settling your tedious domestic squabble."
Our brother gave an irritated snort. "These are my lands, and I am Pharaoh!" he snapped angrily. Pothinus sensed his pupil was about to say something ill advised and tried to move in, but Ptolemy overran him. "I do not need your permission to execute whoever I please, old man. You're only sullen that I beat you to it and the glory is mine."
Caesar laughed coldly. "You are a client of the people of Rome, boy, and you boast of killing a citizen of the noblest blood to those people's chosen representative. No wonder you are having so much trouble hanging onto your throne, such as it is."
Ptolemy flushed with rage, but Caesar ignored him. He turned to his men and suddenly the face he presented to them was filled with sadness. "Men of Rome, Pompey called Magnus has been brutally slaughtered at the hands of cowards and flatterers. We shall bury him with all honors and I shall personally see to it that his assassins are punished."
The legionaries cheered their general, and Salvius, who had always managed to have even less sense than Ptolemy, stormed over to Caesar. "Imbecile!” he bellowed. “We do you a favor and this is how you repay us?”
Caesar glanced at Salvius. With one fluid motion, he drew his sword and decapitated the young lord, drawing a fresh chorus of screams from the watching throngs. Achillas and Lucius drew their swords, though our brother had finally realized this could go no further and held out an arm to stall them.
The Roman smirked at Ptolemy as our brother tried to steady his trembling lips. "I will find the other murderers, Your Majesty. I promise you." With that he walked past the royal entourage, stepping lightly over Salvius' body towards the palace. A phalanx of soldiers marched in behind him.
Pothinus turned to Lucius Septimus and appeared to hiss, "Get these people out of here!" Lucius vaulted into the nearest chariot and began dispersing the crowds. Cleopatra took my hand as we followed the retreating masses back towards the interior of the city and to Origenes' house.
––––––––
"What will you do?" I asked Cleopatra when we were alone again in the antechamber, Kharmion and Mudjet having gone upstairs to bring a meal to us.
"Easy," she replied, holding up a bottle of oil to the light for inspection. "It is the same old game: I have to outmaneuver Ptolemy, which should not be too difficult."
"But how? He still has the support of most of the nobles and the army."
"The key there is 'most.' And I can sway the nobles to dance to my tune."
She dabbed some of the oil onto her hands and began lightly massaging it into her shoulders, glancing over at my skeptical expression. "Oh, please, do not be so obtuse. The lords and the army are small fare, even Ptolemy can put on a good showing for them. If I get Caesar on my side, everything else will fall into place."
I raised an eyebrow. "Because that tactic has gotten Ptolemy so far."
She shrugged. "Actually, serving up Pompey's head was a rather shrewd gambit. Which probably means it was Achillas' idea, not our brother's. I will just have to try the other path."
"Other path?"
She sighed at me hopelessly. "You are such a child. Everyone knows the two vices of Caesar: violence and flesh. Ptolemy made the first move with a gory present. I think I will succeed if I simply give him me."
"But you are the Queen of Egypt!” I snorted. “You would lower yourself to be a man's mistress?"
"Not just any man. The man who is winning control of Rome. A woman who aligns herself with him could rule the world."
"He is already married,” I reminded her, still disgusted. “You would not be his queen."
"The Romans love divorce,” she replied, shrugging. “Such a ninny could easily be dealt with. One way or the other."
I tried to ignore the implication of Cleopatra's last remark. "He is so old," I tried lamely.
"Not hopelessly. At least he seems to remain virile enough."
I wrinkled my nose at the thought. "Indeed. The litany of his conquests nearly defies belief. Why would you not leap at the chance to be his newest whore?"
She gave me a condescending look. "It is probably not that many. Men delight in exaggeration." She paused to admire a cuff she had produced from a jewelry box on the table, then continued. "And despite your apparent distaste, he is not too harsh to look upon for a man of his years. Besides, you for one should be much more pleasantly disposed towards him, seeing how he has not been here three hours together and already he has taken care of Salvius for you."
I winced at the memory of Salvius' headless neck oozing blood on the sand. "It just seems that if you would go through the trouble of arranging a liaison of your choosing, you might as well aim for someone you might actually have affection for."
Cleopatra barked out a harsh, cold laugh that rang against the walls of our hideout. "I know you are young, little sister, but it quite literally pains me when you act so naively. We women have only the power we take in this world, and there is no use being shy about it. I will be sole ruler of Egypt and the good Consul will make that happen. I do not require his love, only his loyalty, and I certainly do not need to love him. Only simple women waste their time falling in love. It would be useful if Caesar would fall in love with me, but I doubt it will happen even with my heka. He is too clever for that. If he is interested enough to hold me over Ptolemy, it is enough. I will simply wait for my opportunity."