The ground became even more treacherous. 'To be candid, Your Majesty, since the death of your father, my knowledge, and, I suspect, the knowledge of most Romans regarding events in Egypt, are rather hazy. In the last few years, our own 'domestic squabbles' have occupied all our attention. Not a great deal of thought is given to affairs in Egypt, at least not by common citizens.'
'But what was said about my father's will, at the time of his death?'
'A man's will is a sacred thing to a Roman. Whatever dispensation your father decreed would be respected.' (In fact, there had been a great deal of disappointment that the Piper had not bequeathed the governance of Egypt to the Roman Senate; other monarchs, close to death, massively in debt to Rome, and wishing to spare their countries from inevitable war and conquest, had done exactly that. But the Piper had chosen to leave Egypt to his eldest remaining daughter, Cleopatra, and her younger brother, Ptolemy, to be ruled jointly by the two of them. Presumably, brother and sister had married one another, as was the custom with coreigning siblings in the Ptolemy family. Incest was abhorrent to Romans and looked upon as yet another decadent symptom of monarchy, along with court eunuchs, ostentatious pageantry, and capricious executions.)
The king shifted uneasily on his throne and frowned. 'My father left Egypt to me-and to my sister Cleopatra. Did you know that, Gordianus-called-Finder?'
'That was my understanding, yes.'
'My father dreamed of peace in the family and prosperity for Egypt. But in the world of flesh, even the dreams of a god do not always find fulfillment. The Fates have decreed this to be a time of civil war all across the earth. So it is with Rome. So it is with Egypt. So it is, I take it, even within your own family, Gordianus-called-Finder.'
I bowed my head. 'You speak again of my son.'
'Meto, the tent-mate of Caesar,' he said, watching me closely. I bit my lip. 'Ah, does that have something to do with your estrangement? Has the eagle taken your son perhaps too much under his wing?'
I sighed. 'I find it strange that Your Majesty should show so much interest in the family affairs of a common Roman citizen.'
'I am interested in all things having to do with Caesar,' he said. The gleam in his eyes was partly that of a curious fifteen-year-old boy, and partly that of a calculating politician.
'For many a Roman,' I said, speaking slowly and quietly, 'the choice between Caesar and Pompey was not an easy one. Cicero searched frantically for a third way, but found none and finally sided with Pompey-to his regret. Marcus Caelius leaped to Caesar's side, then grew dissatisfied and betrayed him. Milo escaped from exile in Massilia and sought to raise an army of his own-'
'And you have known all these men?' Ptolemy sat forward. 'These heroes and adventurers and madmen of whom we hear only echoes here in Egypt?'
I nodded. 'Most of them I have known better than I cared to, certainly better than was good for me.'
'And you know Caesar as well?'
'Yes.'
'And is he not the greatest of them, the nearest to godhood?'
'I know him as a man, not a god.'
'A man of great power.'
'Yes.'
'Yet you begrudge the favoritism he shows your son?'
'The matter is complicated, Your Majesty.' I almost smiled as I said this, considering that the person to whom I spoke was married to a sister he loathed and that another of his sisters had been executed by their father. I glanced at the clay jar at Ptolemy's feet. I felt slightly queasy. 'If Caesar comes to Egypt,' I said, 'will you have him beheaded, as you did Pompey?'
The king exchanged a look with Pothinus, who clearly disapproved of this turn in the conversation. 'Your Majesty,' he said, intending to change the subject; but the king spoke over him, obliging Pothinus to fall silent.
'He was remarkably easy to kill, wasn't he-Pompey, I mean? The gods deserted him at Pharsalus. By the time he was ready to step ashore here in Egypt, there was not a shred of divinity still clinging to his wretched person. The gods had stripped him of their armor, and when the blades descended, the only resistance they met was feeble flesh. He thought to stride ashore, to remind me of the debts my father owed him, and take command of Egypt, as if our treasury, granaries, and arms were his for the taking. It was not to be. 'Put an end to the so-called Great One before his feet can touch Egyptian soil!'-were those not your exact words, Pothinus? You even quoted that favorite epigram of my tutor Theodotus: 'Dead men don't bite.' I thought long and hard upon this question; in dreams I sought the counsel of Osiris and Serapis. The gods agreed with Pothinus. Had I given succor to Pompey, the same curse that fell upon him would have fallen upon Egypt.
'Caesar may be another matter. I think the gods are still with Caesar. His divinity must grow stronger with every conquest. Will he come to Egypt, Gordianus-called-Finder, seeking our grain and our gold as Pompey did?'
'Perhaps, Your Majesty.'
'And if he comes, will he be as easy to kill as Pompey was?'
I made no answer. Ptolemy turned to the eunuch.
'What do you think, Lord Chamberlain?'
'I think, Your Majesty,' said Pothinus, casting a shrewd glance at the king, 'that you promised audiences with certain of your subjects today, here on the royal barge. Perhaps your conversation with this Roman could be postponed while you tend to more-official business.'
Ptolemy sighed. 'Who comes to me today?' 'Several delegations are here to report on the status of the annual inundation in the regions of the Upper Nile; we have reports from Ombos, Hemonthis, Latopolis, and elsewhere. The news they bring is not good, I fear. There is also a party of merchants from Clysma, on the gulf of the Red Sea, who wish to petition for tax relief; a fire destroyed several warehouses and piers last year, and they need money to rebuild. I've read their reports and petitions, but only you can grant the dispensations they request.'
'Must I meet these people now, Lord Chamberlain?'
'All these groups have come a very long way, Your Majesty; and I think it would be best to dispose of these matters before we reach Alexandria, where Your Majesty is likely to be greeted by a great many pressing needs that have developed in your absence.'
The king closed his eyes. 'Very well, Lord Chamberlain.'
Pothinus stood. 'I shall call for the barge to stop at the next landing, and find a suitable escort to take the Roman back to his-'
'No, let Gordianus-called-Finder stay.'
'But, Your Majesty-'
'Let him stay where he is.' Ptolemy gave him a severe look.
'As Your Majesty commands.'
I had thought, in such a hot climate, that all business would cease in the hours just after midday, but such was not the case. While I sat and struggled not to doze-snoring during a royal audience would surely be frowned on-a succession of envoys was admitted to the king's presence. What impressed me most was Ptolemy's facility with languages and dialects. All the envoys spoke some Greek, but many exhausted their vocabulary after a few ritual greetings, whereupon the king began to converse with perfect fluency in whatever tongue best suited his subjects. All the while, the piper played in the background.
At last the final envoy made obeisance and departed from the king's presence. Pothinus showed the man out. On his way back, he was approached by a messenger, who whispered something in his ear. The message appeared to be quite long and complicated. Hearing it, the eunuch appeared at first alarmed, then amused. At last he hurried to Ptolemy's side.
'Your Majesty! You shall soon have a chance to gaze upon the master of Rome with your own eyes. Your advance guards have reached Alexandria. They send back news: Caesar's ships are in the harbor.'
Ptolemy drew a sharp breath. 'In the harbor? Does Caesar, like Pompey, await my coming before he steps onto Egyptian soil?'
Pothinus flashed a smile. 'Actually, Your Majesty, Caesar arrived some days ago. I am told that he set foot on a public pier and attempted to take a stroll through one of the markets. It seems he wished to awe the people, for he arrived with all the trappings of a Roman consul. He wore his toga with a purple stripe, and twelve armed men called lictors marched before him bearing fasces.'
