Cleopatra (12 page)

11 Martius

My worry for Puzo and Neva was saved when a storm hit for Father was distracted and nervous. He lashed himself to the mast, the safest place for a king, then when the skies
cleared he was again distracted because there came much shouting for joy.

Alexandria!

I am too excited for words. We are home.

16 Martius
The royal palace of Alexandria

Will I give away the secrets of my heart if I describe how it was to finally see Olympus again? I had not realized how deep my affection is for him, this friend of my youth. Thoughts of Marc Antony moved far back in my mind.

After two years, Olympus was taller and, now sixteen, his chest as broad as a man's. I could see him standing on the palace steps that lead down into the water. Our ship was anchored further out so a little boat took me to him. I was so anxious though, I jumped in before we landed and found myself in the swells up to my waist. I reached for his outstretched hand.

When Olympus embraced me, I wept with relief.
O, my friend, I have missed you.
There were so many things I wanted to tell him. Theophilus was there, too, more reserved, but he did give me a warm handshake. Meanwhile the harbour was spilling over with Roman soldiers and horses. I wondered what “Queen” Berenice was doing at this moment.

To continue…

I found Her Royal Highness in the bath. She seemed surprised and delighted to see me, but I thought in my heart she must be out of her mind. Could she not hear the crowds in the streets and the horses running, the shouts and clashing of swords?

I refused the goblet of wine her servant brought to me. For months I had practised what I would say to my sister when this moment arrived.

“Father wants to see you.”

30 Aprilis

O, it was a sorrowful Berenice who wept at Father's feet. He sat on his throne, once more Pharaoh, Ptolemy XII, the mighty King of Egypt. He looked at her bowed figure and waved to a guard, who removed the royal purple cloak from her back. He waved again, and my sister was led out of the room.

I stood quietly at his side. He smiled up at me, then struck his sceptre three times against the floor. An official brought the purple cloak to me and ceremoniously draped it over my shoulders. I bowed to Father and backed out of the room.

Evening

I write from my chamber. Pharos Lighthouse glows above the waves of my home shore. So many months away, I should be more joyful to be here. But something happened today that has made my heart quiet.

I wanted to be bold with Father about my two servants. Neva and Puzo love each other, I planned to tell him. I want a royal edict that says they may marry and continue to serve in the palace. The speech was in my mind for days, a persuasive line of reasoning I had learned from Cicero. Father would not refuse me, I knew it.

When I appeared before him there was quite a lot of activity. Dancers off to one side, musicians on the other, soldiers standing around. Marc Antony passed me in the corridor on his way out. He dipped his head in greeting, but said nothing. I wanted to talk to him, about anything or nothing, but this obviously was not the time.

When Father saw me, he opened his arms wide and smiled. “O Cleopatra,” he said. “You grow more lovely by the hour. What is it you desire, my daughter?”

I stood near a thick marble column and took a breath. But before my words began, I heard soldiers marching down a hall towards us. Father looked up at the Roman leading the procession and beckoned him to step forward. I turned to look, but was not prepared for the sight awaiting me.

Had I been just a girl, I would have fainted. Even so, I placed my hand against the column to steady myself. Blood spilled onto the mosaic floor from a bronze shield that was being carried as a tray. On this tray was the severed head of my sister, Berenice.

1 Maius

I am still pondering in my heart the events of yesterday, feeling sadness for the terror Berenice must have felt when she realized her fate. Father gave her the ultimate punishment. He showed no mercy at all.

Now I am next in line to the throne.

A heaviness weighs on me now that I have seen what Father does to a daughter who displeases him. If he gets angry with me or thinks I am disloyal or wants to make sure I do not become queen, will he order my execution, too? Will my little brothers and Arsinoë try to kill me so one of
them
may be pharaoh?

Great sorrow overwhelms me this day. I had thought that once we were home again, a way from Roman territory, I would be safe.

10 Maius

Olympus and I met in the Library. Soon Theophilus joined us, a thick scroll under his arm. We were once more old friends, ready to study and talk. It was as if we had not lost one day together. They wanted to know everything about Rome, but they were most curious about Marc Antony and boldly asked if I have affection for this barbarian.

I did not know how to answer. What would they say if I told them about the kiss in the garden? How can I explain to them my heart when there is also sadness and worry?

“Cleopatra,” said Olympus, “when you left for Rome you were just a girl of twelve. Now you are a young woman, capable of much responsibility. We can see that you are wiser in the ways of the world, especially the Roman world.”

“Yes,” I said.

Theophilus looked up from the scroll he had been reading. He said, “Your older sisters are dead, your father is weak. If he meets an untimely death, you may become pharaoh. Are you ready, Cleopatra? Would you have allies in Rome?”

I stood and went out to the courtyard. My friends did not follow because they knew I needed to think.

What they say is true. Because of my father, Rome and Alexandria are now linked with each other. For Egypt to survive I need allies, it is my royal duty to cultivate powerful friends. There is also an unspoken word for ally: “husband”.

Caesar is strong, but I do not know him. Crassus is just a politician, too greedy to trust. Pompey is crude and so impressed with himself, he would not make a loyal friend. Cicero might be worthy and would certainly win opinions in the Senate, but he does not command an army. Then there is Marc Antony, a leader of men and with a definite charm, I must admit.

Of all the barbarians, I am most interested in Antony.

13 Maius

Last night I was awaked by an unusual sound: soft footsteps.

I lay in bed trying to listen, my heart pounding.
Who was there?
When I realized that neither Puzo or Neva had stirred, terror seized my heart. Had they been murdered in their sleep and now their killer was coming after me?

Slowly I moved my hand down the side of my bed where my dagger is hidden. A shadow low to the ground was crawling towards me. I held my breath, wanting to hear the precise moment when I should stab my attacker.

But the sound I heard was purring.

“Arrow?” I whispered.

She came to me like an old friend, rubbing her large head against my arm. She licked my hand and rolled onto her side. O, was I happy to see her. I hugged her tight while she kneaded her claws in my blanket, purring and telling me all about it, but where she hid all these months, I will never know. I thank the gods that Tryphaena had not hunted her down and killed her.

To continue…

I do not want to write about the bloodshed in Alexandria, but will say that Berenice was not the only one who lost her head. Now soldiers are camped outside the city walls and along the beaches, our harbours are crowded with their anchored ships. As Marc Antony is their commander he is busy with military duties. He and I have not seen each other since the day of my sister's execution.

Bucephalus was safe in the royal stables. O, she was a beautiful sight! Our reunion was brief, though, because of danger in the streets. We will have to wait until things quieten down before taking our favourite rides. Meanwhile I must carry on with my studies. There is so much to learn and prepare for if ever I am to become queen.

A dispatch from Antony arrived yesterday. It was written by one of his secretaries because he injured his hand in a fight. Troops will be leaving Egypt soon, some by sea, but many will march east back into Judea, another Roman province. Antony said it could take one year for him to go around the edge of the continent back to Italy, but I think he wants to take his time, perhaps delaying an encounter with Cicero.

Word also reached us that Julius Caesar is planning to invade and conquer Britannia this summer. He has eighty warships ready to cross the channel from Gaul.

I have written letters to these men – Antony, Cicero, and Caesar – letters of friendship with invitations. I will welcome seeing them under peaceful circumstances. I wanted to say more to Antony, but did not know how or even what those thoughts would be.

The next day

I visited the little ones in the nursery. Arsinoë is more beautiful than I remember, and at eleven years clearly rules our brothers. Ptolemy is six and Ptolemy the Younger is four, still babies. For now, they are no threat to Father or myself.

I have been pondering the sorrows of my heart and have made a decision.

If I am to be queen I must learn more about the Egyptian people but I cannot accomplish this by sitting around the palace. Thus, in ten days I will set sail aboard the royal barge for a trip up the Nile. I want to see the Great Pyramids, the Sphinx, and all the villages along the way. With me will be the usual guards, cooks, and servants. Puzo and Neva of course, and Arrow (who follows me everywhere now).

Olympus has been granted leave from medical school for the purpose of studying native diseases and remedies. My heart soars knowing he will be my companion. Our friend Theophilus will remain in Alexandria as he is training to become a rabbi. I know he will be a fine one.

When I met with Father in the throne room, I did not tell him the whole story. If he knew my trip was planned for the purpose of making me a good queen, that I am seeking wisdom and knowledge, he might prefer to kill me. Thus, he has given his blessing. He believes this adventure is merely the frolic of a fourteen-year-old girl, yet he also said he is planning my wedding, which will take place upon my return.

It grieves me that I still fear my own father, and that I must marry the man he chooses. But such is the destiny of a daughter in the Royal House of Ptolemy.

Who this husband will be, I do not know.

12 Junius
Aboard the royal barge
Isis

The heat of my Egypt burns down on us all day. But there is shade under our canopy and a slight breeze off the water. Rowers strain against the river's strong current, sometimes helped along when a favourable wind catches our sail. I am pleased to be once again on a voyage, seeing new things. But this time, I am not frightened of what lies ahead or worried how others will receive me.

Olympus has arranged a desk up here by the mast, which is where I now sit. He does not bother me when I am writing, nor I him, for he is keeping a medical journal; we take turns rotating the hourglass. I look up to see the banks of the Nile slip by. Flocks of herons and flamingos fly up from the marshes, making streaks of blue, pink, and white in the sky. The sounds of frogs and birds and water lapping against our hull is music to me, beautiful music.

There are clusters of mud huts in each village, Egyptian children always playing near the shore. It seems they know where crocodiles hide and are able to keep away from them.

My heart is at peace. The only worry for those who travel this broad green river is drowning, often caused by the hippopotamus. These creatures love to hide in the water until a boat comes along, then ram it until the occupants fall overboard. I have seen this happen. But when my guards tried to kill one by beating it over the head with an oar I stopped them, for Egyptians believe the hippo is goddess of childbirth.

Compared to the Roman arena, the Nile is as safe as heaven.

Late afternoon

We are about to dock at a village called Po-sep. Donkeys are walking in a circle, pulling buckets of water up from the river by a crude wheel. Children have crowded the bank and already are pointing to our beautiful flags and pennants.

Did I mention that during our last stop I had an Egyptian priest at the Temple of Isis marry my dear Puzo and Neva? At least on our trip, which may take two years, they can have the joy of being married. There are plenty of days ahead, for me to think of ways to present this to Father.

Time to put my writing tools in my little chest. Local officials and my cooks are preparing a banquet among a grove of date palms. O, its shade is inviting. I see a child waving to me; another is throwing sweetly scented flowers onto the water.

“Princess,” they are calling. “Welcome … we welcome you.”

Epilogue

Following Egyptian custom, Cleopatra married her brother, Ptolemy XIII, and upon their father's death in 51
BC
they became co-rulers. She was eighteen, he was ten.

Approximately three years earlier, Julia, the beloved daughter of Caesar, died in childbirth, leaving him heartbroken and her husband, Pompey, devastated. Her untimely death, however, loosened the political ties between these two leaders, and they stopped pretending to be friends. Pompey realized he was the last obstacle in Caesar's rise to power, so he fled with his family to Egypt, hoping to gain asylum with Cleopatra and her brother because at one time they had been under his guardianship.

It was an unfortunate miscalculation. He didn't realize the thirteen-year-old Ptolemy wanted to gain favour with Rome and was not in the least concerned with old friendships. One of Ptolemy's advisers suggested murdering Pompey because, after all, “Dead men don't bite.” Thus when Pompey sailed into Alexandria's harbour in the autumn of 48
BC
and stepped ashore, he was swiftly beheaded, supposedly as his children and screaming wife watched from their boat. When some days later Julius Caesar arrived in Egypt as conqueror, Ptolemy presented him with a royal gift: the severed, pickled head of Pompey the Great, along with his ring. It is said that Caesar wept at the loss of his former friend and son-in-law.

Meanwhile Cleopatra, age twenty-one, went into hiding and devised a more ingenious way to meet the famous Roman, who was about fifty-two years old at the time. She rolled herself up in a rug and had her servant carry her into Caesar's private quarters. He was smitten with her. They became lovers, and in June 47
BC
a son was born to them, Ptolemy XV Caesarion.

In 44
BC
, Caesar was assassinated in Rome by a group of senators. He was succeeded by his legal heir, seventeen-year-old Octavian. One year later, another assassination took place: Marc Antony was so angry about the critical things Cicero had written and said about him in the Senate that he ordered Cicero's head and right hand cut off. These grisly items he displayed at the speaker's platform in Rome. It is said that Antony's wife at the time, Fulvia, took one of her hairpins and pierced Cicero's tongue with it.

A few years after Caesar's death, Cleopatra and Marc Antony fell in love and, according to some historians, were married in an Egyptian ceremony. They had three children: twins Alexander Helios and Cleopatra Selene, and Ptolemy Philadelphus. Together they tried to protect the city of Alexandria, for Octavian had declared war against the Egyptian queen.

In September of 31
BC
, Antony and Cleopatra chose to fight a crucial battle at sea, but their fleet was crushed. Months later, Octavian and his army swept into Alexandria. Realizing that Egypt would be conquered, Cleopatra arranged for her fourteen-year-old son, Caesarion, to escape because she wanted to ensure that the Ptolemaic line would continue. He fled to India with a large sum of money but was murdered before he reached safety.

Humiliated by the military defeat and mistakenly thinking that Cleopatra was dead, Antony stabbed himself with his sword. As he bled to death from his wounds, friends carried him to the queen's hiding place, where he died in her arms. Later she, too, took her life, apparently by allowing a deadly snake to bite her.

Cleopatra and her physician, Olympus, remained close personal friends throughout her life.

After Cleopatra's death, her children by Marc Antony – Alexander and Cleopatra, now ten years old, and Ptolemy, age six – were sent to Italy to be cared for by Antony's Roman fourth wife, Octavia. The boys later disappeared under mysterious circumstances. Their sister survived to marry King Juba II of Mauretania, and they had two children, Ptolemy and Drusilla.

Some accounts show that Drusilla married Marcus Antonius Felix, the Roman governor of Judea. While in court she and Felix listened to testimony by the Apostle Paul, who was on trial for his belief in Jesus Christ.