Keeper of the Flame (2 page)

“You are thinner.”

Cleopatra sipped the wine and grimaced. No doubt it had been left too long in the bowl. “Will you never cease to fret over me, Sophia?”

Sophia’s breathing had returned to normal, and she found a place on the couch. “Sit. Tell me.”

Cleopatra came to her, dropped a knee to the couch, then curled herself next to Sophia like a leopard settling to rest. She lifted the skull of a panther from the low table before them and turned it around with her long fingers.

“Did you get in unseen?” Sophia asked.

“Apollodorus rowed me into the harbor in a small boat. We docked in the Eunostos Harbor, away from the crowds. I climbed ashore at the base of the lighthouse and circled to the door. I am safe here, Sophia.”

Sophia swallowed. “Why take such a risk?”

“It has been an eventful few days.” Cleopatra set the skull back on the table with a
thunk
.

“I thought you were in Syria.”

“I was. My little brother Ptolemy and his three sycophants are camped at Pelusium, with their armies ready to attack my troops. But I believe the gods have other plans.” She smiled again, the scheming grin Sophia had known and loved since Cleopatra’s childhood.

“What have you done?” Sophia closed tight fingers around the girl’s wrist, as fear clamped itself around her heart.

Cleopatra inclined her head and laughed, then stroked Sophia’s arm with her fingertips. “An opportunity has come to me on the heels of Ptolemy’s foolishness.”

“So what has your brother done?”

“The Roman Pompey fled to my brother, hoping for Ptolemy’s support against Julius Caesar. But Ptolemy’s three advisors decided they would rather gain the favor of Caesar. They greeted Pompey with a knife point.”

“He is dead?”

Cleopatra nodded. “And now Caesar has arrived here in the city.” She crossed one leg over the other and bounced her foot. “My brother’s men sent him Pompey’s head as a gift. Caesar was furious at his adversary’s ignoble death.”

Sophia slapped her thigh. “These barbaric Romans. Impossible to comprehend. They stomp all over the world with their insatiable lust to conquer, but when someone kills their enemy, they are angered.”

Cleopatra’s eyes glittered. “Yes, he sounds fascinating, doesn’t he?”

Sophia’s apprehension returned. “What are you going to do?”

“Take advantage of the opportunity.”

“It is not safe for you in the city, Cleopatra. You must return to Syria, under the protection of your troops.”

Cleopatra removed her hand from Sophia’s arm and unfolded herself from the couch. “You would have me remain a child forever! I am no longer your student.”

Sophia stood as well, matching the fire in Cleopatra’s eyes with her own. “You are twenty-one!”

Cleopatra flung her hair over her shoulder. Her face was a
mere handspan from Sophia’s. Her voice was low. “And I am Queen of Egypt.”

Sophia shifted away, but Cleopatra clutched at her, spun her back to herself. “Do not be angry with me, my Sophia. Tell me you love me still.”

Sophia sighed.
I could never control her.
“Would I have spent all those painful hours teaching you the languages of Egypt if I did not love you?”

Cleopatra lips formed a pout, reinforcing her youth. “You were well paid by my father.”

Sophia touched Cleopatra’s cheek. “And I would have done it for nothing.”

The younger woman’s expression cleared. “There, now you have made me happy. Next you must tell me how beautiful I look in spite of my thinness, and then I will be satisfied.”

Sophia looked over the queen’s long reddish-brown curls, her regal features, the fine fabric of her robe, and the twinkling jewels stitched to her headpiece and wrapped around her arms and fingers. “Cleopatra, as always, you are stunning.”

The girl fluttered her eyelashes playfully. “You have them all fooled, Sophia. But not me.” She pointed to Sophia’s masculine tunic, carelessly belted. “I know the real woman beneath all your manly clothes and your harsh manner. I know there is something good buried.”

Sophia’s inner restlessness stilled, as though she had grown cold. She nodded once, unable to answer, and then retreated to the couch.
Let us speak of something else.

Cleopatra dropped beside her and leaned her head against Sophia’s shoulder with a sigh. The sun’s last rays splashed through the west window and lit up the gold trim that edged her robe.

“What will you do?” Sophia whispered, knowing she would not like the answer.

Cleopatra did not lift her head. “Caesar is ill-disposed toward my brother and his advisors tonight. I will cause his favor to fall on me.”

“And how will you accomplish this?”

Cleopatra laughed. “I know it has been a long time, Sophia. But do not tell me you have forgotten how a woman can gain the favor of a man.”

Sophia pulled away from her. “No, Cleo. No.”

Cleopatra tossed her hair over her shoulder. “I have only this brief moment to gain his favor. My brother will surely arrive by tomorrow. It must be tonight.”

Sophia’s stomach clenched. “You are young, inexperienced. And he is a Roman!”

“The world is changing.”

Sophia exhaled heavily. “For more than two hundred years your family has ruled Egypt. The Egyptians have come to accept that. And you understand their ways. You respect their love of knowledge, you share their desire to decipher the world. You have even embraced their gods. But these Romans, Cleo, they are crude savages, interested only in blood and victory and power!”

Cleopatra looked away, to the darkening window. “I think you forget how interested in power I am myself, Sophia.”

She traced Cleo’s strong jawline. “Born to rule. Raised to rule. Queen at eighteen.”
And exile in the face of your brother’s treachery has done nothing to dull the hunger.
“Can I not talk you out of this foolishness?”

Cleopatra’s lips twitched in amusement. “There we are. I knew you would come around.” She pulled Sophia toward her and once
more leaned against her shoulder. “Just let me stay until the darkness has fully fallen.” She sighed deeply. “I am so tired.”

Sophia relaxed into the cushions and took the weight of Cleopatra’s exhaustion. The girl was asleep in moments, leaving Sophia to her own thoughts. She let Cleo sleep as the evening wasted.

Her hair hung over Sophia’s shoulder, where Sophia own hair would have lain if she had not cropped it close to her head. She stroked Cleopatra’s robe with one finger, then draped the fabric over her own thigh.

She is everything I am not.

And yet despite their differences, Sophia always found herself more whole in Cleo’s presence. The girl was like pressed oil, filling in the cracks and brittle places of Sophia’s soul with something warm and smooth. When they were together, all the tension and anger that seemed to define Sophia ran out of her, leaving her feeling almost human.

Sophia had begun to doze as well when Ares’s knucklebruising knock again sounded at the door. She glanced down to Cleopatra, but the girl’s gentle breathing continued. She shifted her to the cushions, then slipped away to open the door.

“For the love of Isis, Ares, what is it now?”

He stepped in, one hand still on the door. “A message for you,
Abbas
.” He held a scrap of papyrus. She pushed him into the hall and half-closed the door behind them.

Ares had called her
abbas
since he was a young boy. Whether the Egyptian word for “lion” was a compliment or a slight depended on each of their moods.

Ares peered over her shoulder, into her chamber.

“Well, give the thing to me, Ares! Don’t simply stand there!”

Ares sighed and held it up to her. “Brought by one of the Library’s slaves.” He stepped close and held the message to her eyes.

Sophia moved back a pace. “You don’t need to breathe all over me!” She snatched the scrap and read it, her pulse quickening at the request inked there.

“Will you go?”

She scowled at Ares. “Reading my messages now?”

The young man, though half her age, stood much taller than Sophia. He gave her one of his crooked half grins. “It is a long climb.”

She shoved the papyrus back into his hand and turned away. “There is nothing in the Library that cannot be brought here to me. Send a message to Sosigenes that he may visit me here in the lighthouse if he wishes.”

“The message sounded urgent.”

She whirled on him. “Then I suppose he should run!” Ares pursed his lips, and Sophia exhaled. This boy knew her well by now. He had long ceased to be offended or intimidated by her moods. “Why can Sosigenes not send a report as usual?” she asked herself aloud.

“Perhaps he thinks it is time for you to emerge from hiding.”

“I am not hiding!” Sophia put a hand out to the door. “I rarely need to leave the lighthouse. Why should today be different?”

“Because today someone has asked.”

The door blurred before her. It was true, no one had requested her presence in the city for a great while. “They fear me.”

Ares’s laugh was soft. “Yes, the mighty Artemis, commanding the world from her high tower.”

Sophia’s lips curled into a sneer and she faced the boy again. “Which am I, Ares, a lion or a goddess?”

He lowered his eyes. “Both need sometimes to emerge from solitude.”

“Well, not today. Send the message to Sosigenes. And send ten drachma with it, to remind him under whose patronage he spends his hours.”

Ares bowed his head and turned to the ramp, his silence seeming to condemn her.

Sophia closed her eyes and pressed her fingers into the bridge of her nose. She disliked leaving the lighthouse, and it annoyed her that the old scholar would summon her. She pushed back the thought that Ares’s comments were the true source of her irritation, then reentered her private rooms and lit several lamps. The flames played on the deep reds and blacks of the room’s furnishings, on which she had spared no expense. The luxury of her chamber rivaled any in the palace. The money that flowed continually to the lighthouse enabled her to live as she wished.

She retrieved the wine Cleo had poured. At the window she lifted the cup to the harbor in a silent salute, then sipped the wine, ignoring its bitter finish.
Yes, I live as I wish.

And every day the ever-present sea breezes whispered in her ear like a spiteful friend who would never let her forget.

She spent an hour over the charts, fine-tuning the plans for the coming month, searching for the slightest opportunity to increase efficiency. When the first noises shot up the cylindrical core of the lighthouse, Sophia barely noticed.

Moments later she dropped her reed on the desk, startling Cleopatra. The girl gasped, then heard the shouts. She turned wide eyes to Sophia. “Who is it?”

Sophia tilted her head to the noise again. Her fingers tightened on her chair.

“Soldiers.”

Two

S
ophia placed herself between the door and Cleopatra. Cleo’s servant, Apollodorus, was the first through the door. He burst in without knocking and scanned the dark room, his swarthy features tense.

“I am here,” Cleopatra said, standing.

“Soldiers, my queen.”

“Ptolemy’s?”

He shook his head. “Romans.”

Sophia crossed to the door. “Do they know she is here?”

“I know nothing more.” The servant circled Sophia to stand near Cleopatra.

“Stay here,” Sophia said. “I will get rid of them.”

Cleopatra bit her lip. “Be cautious.”

Sophia nodded, then left the room and began the descent down the spiral ramp, her chest pounding. Cleopatra should not have come, should not have risked capture.
And I should have sent her away to safety
. A sheen of perspiration broke over her forehead. She would keep her word and get rid of the Romans.

Sophia’s quarters were in the first of the three tiers of the mighty lighthouse, also the tallest. If she tilted her head backward while descending the interior ramp, she could see straight up through the octagonal second tier and cylindrical third, to the final platform, where the light guided ships into the harbor.

The first tier held nearly fifty rooms, positioned around the spiraling ramp that led to the massive Base. Sophia ran lightly down the ramp, accustomed to the incline’s pull on her legs.
Over the rail she could see the torch-lit bottom floor filling with the clanking ranks of barbarians.

“They’ve all gone to bed,” Ares was saying to one of them. “You will have to come back another time.”

“We have orders, boy,” a strident voice answered. Sophia could see the speaker advance on Ares. He did not look into the gloom above him to see her descent.

She reached the bottom of the spiral and pushed into the ranks that crowded the center hall. “What is this?” She raised her voice above the shuffle of studded sandals on the stone floor.

The group turned as one. A soldier stepped forward, the air of command about him.

“Are you master of the lighthouse, sir?” He spoke in Latin.

Sophia raised her head, let the torchlight play on her face. The soldier stepped back. “I ask your pardon, mistress. I did not realize—”

“Yes, I am Keeper of the lighthouse. What is the meaning of—of this?” She extended her hand to the sweating mass of leather and metal packed into the chamber. The torches rammed into wall sockets reflected from a thousand metal discs.

“We are here at Caesar’s request, mistress. He wishes to meet with Cleopatra Philopator and her brother Ptolemy XIII, and has summoned them to the royal palace.”

Sophia shoved aside the soldiers to face the one who addressed her. His uniform differed from the others, with a crest of horsehair across his helmet. A red cloak of fine material hung from his left shoulder, and he wore waist-length chain mail armor and an ornate belt. Sophia did not miss the sword and dagger strapped to his body.

“Summoned them to the palace?” she repeated. “Do you
mean to their
own
palace?” She looked him up and down, not even trying to hide her disdain. Two soldiers lowered long
pila
across the commander, the spears forming an
X
across his chest.