access. It's directly adjacent to this building; the space between is quite narrow and could easily be fortified.'
'Fortified?'
'Yes, with stones, piled-up rubble, that sort of thing. I've been thinking that the theater could serve very nicely as a citadel, easily defended from attack on the landward side, open for reinforcements from the sea.'
'Do you anticipate the need for such a stronghold?'
'Officially? No. But assessing the lay of the land has become second nature to me. Wherever I go, I look for strongholds, points of weakness, hiding places, overlooks.' He smiled. 'I arrived here in Egypt with a relatively small force, Gordianus, hardly more than an honor guard; but a small number of well-trained men can hold their own against far greater numbers, if their position is carefully chosen.'
'Will there be warfare in the city, then?'
'Not if warfare can possibly be avoided. But one must be prepared for all eventualities, especially in a place as volatile as Alexandria.'
'I see. There appear to be only two couches here on the terrace. Is it only the two of us for dinner?'
'Why not? Since my arrival in Alexandria, this will be the first night I've dined with anyone who's not a military man, a diplomat, a eunuch, or a spy.'
I stiffened at the last word.
Caesar fixed me with a sardonic gaze. 'I am right, am I not, Gordianus? You're not… a eunuch, are you?'
He laughed. I did my best to laugh with him. He clapped his hands. A moment later the first course arrived, a platter of tilapia fish in a saffron brine. The server was apparently Caesar's taster, as well. As he was displaying the dish for his master's approval, he whispered, 'Absolutely delicious!'
Caesar smiled. 'This meal is an indulgence for me, Gordianus. Pothinus has been quite stingy with apportioning rations to my men, claiming shortages in the city, though it seems to me that the king's courtiers are quite well fed. But as long as the eunuch starves my men, I eat what they eat-except on a special occasion such as this.'
Caesar ate with relish. I had little appetite.
'I still don't understand why you wished to see me,' I said.
'Gordianus! You act as if I summoned you here with the intention of interrogating you. I merely asked Pothinus to convey an invitation to dinner, so that we could talk.'
'About what?'
'You gave me a bit of a start that day on the landing, when I saw you among the king's retinue. Before I could point you out to Meto, you vanished. Later, I asked Pothinus, and he confirmed that it was indeed Gordianus the Finder I had seen, wearing a toga and standing by that extraordinary female. I'm curious to know how you came to be in Alexandria.'
'Did you not ask Pothinus?'
'I did, but I have no reason to believe anything that eunuch tells me. I should prefer to hear the truth from you.'
I dropped any pretense of interest in the tilapia and gazed at the lighthouse. 'I came to Egypt with my wife, Bethesda. She was ill. She desired to bathe in the Nile, believing its waters would cure her. Instead… she was lost in the river.'
Caesar gestured for the slave to remove the fish. 'Then it's true. Pothinus told me as much. You have my sympathy, Gordianus. I know, from Meto, how dearly you loved your wife.' He was silent for a moment. 'You must understand that this puts me in a delicate position. Meto doesn't yet realize that you're here in Alexandria.'
'No? But that day, on the landing, I saw you speak to him, just after you recognized me. He turned to look in my direction…'
'And saw no one, except of course that extraordinary female, who was suddenly standing all alone, because you had disappeared. I never mentioned your name. I merely asked Meto to take a look at the man in the toga and tell me if my eyes deceived me. When he looked and saw no man in a toga, I let the matter drop-you may recall that I was rather busy with another small matter, exchanging greetings with the king of Egypt. Later, meeting privately with Pothinus-without Meto-I inquired about you, and Pothinus gave me an account of your arrival in Egypt. I saw no point in passing the tale on, third-hand, to Meto, at least not until I could speak to you in person. As a result, Meto remains unaware that you're in Alexandria, and he knows nothing of the tragic news about your wife- and it hardly seems fitting that I should tell him, when you're here. Surely the sad news should come from his father.'
My heart jumped in my chest. 'You didn't invite him to come here tonight, did you?'
'No. Meto doesn't know with whom I'm dining tonight, only that I asked to be given complete privacy.' He laughed. 'Perhaps he thinks I'm having a liaison with that extraordinary female.'
'Her name is Merianis,' I said.
Caesar smiled. 'As a rule, I prefer to keep Meto close to me at all times. He maintains the official diary of all my comings and goings-without his notes I'd find it impossible to write my memoirs-but I do occasionally draw a breath or eat a meal without him. Your son won't be joining us tonight.'
I felt a pain in my chest. 'Please don't refer him as my son.'
Caesar shook his head. 'Gordianus! The war has been very hard on you, hasn't it? You're rather like Cicero, in that way; you thrived during the old days, when everyone was dragging everyone else into the courts, bending laws to punish their political enemies, flinging reckless accusations, and casting dust in the jurors' eyes. Now all that has changed. Things shall never be the same. I fear that the times we live in no longer suit you. You've become discontented, disgruntled-bitter, even-but you shouldn't take it out on poor Meto. Ah, the second course has arrived: hearts of palm in spiced olive oil. Perhaps you'll like this dish more than you did the tilapia.'
Caesar ate. I stared at the food. He had touched on a point that had been troubling my sleep ever since I had seen Meto on the landing. Bethesda had not been kin to Meto by blood, any more than I was; but in every way that mattered she had been a mother to him. Meto would have to be told of her loss. He would want to know exactly what happened; he might have questions that only I could answer, doubts that only I could assuage. Did he not deserve to be told the facts by me, face-to-face?
Caesar took a sip of wine. 'Perhaps we should talk of something else. I understand that you witnessed the end of Pompey, and that you even helped to build his funeral pyre.'
'Did Philip tell you that?'
'Yes.'
'I suppose you had him thoroughly interrogated after Pothinus delivered him to you as a gift.'
'That was an unfortunate moment. As a member of Pompey's house-hold-as a renegade and an enemy of the Roman people-Philip should have been delivered to me in a more discreet fashion, along with any other prisoners of war. But I've treated him with great respect. He was never interrogated, in the sense that you suggest; I myself talked to him at length, in private, as you and I are talking now.'
'Surely he told you everything you might wish to know about Pompey's final days.'
'Philip was revealing about some things, reticent about others. Since you were there, I should very much like to hear the tale from your lips.'
'Why? So that you can gloat? Or to help you avoid the same fate at the hands of your Egyptian hosts?'
His expression darkened. 'When I looked upon Pompey's head, I wept. He should never have met such an ignominious end.'
'He should have been slaughtered by Roman arms, you mean, rather than Egyptian?'
'I would have preferred that he die in battle, yes, rather than by trickery.'
'So that you might claim the glory of killing him?'
'I'm sure that death in battle would have been his preference, as well.'
'But Pompey had his chance to die fighting, at Pharsalus. Instead, he fled. The end he met was gruesome, but quick. How many of the men you send into battle die as cleanly and as quickly, Consul, and for how many of those men do you weep? You can't possibly weep for them all, or else you'd never be done weeping.'
He looked at me coolly, betraying neither anger nor offense. I think he was unused to being spoken to in such a way, and was not sure what to make of it. Perhaps he thought I was a little mad.
'There are other matters we might discuss, Gordianus. For example, during my absence from Rome, my wife has kept me abreast of events in the city. Calpurnia wrote me a particularly interesting letter about the scrape you got into when Milo and Caelius tried to rouse the people against me. She also told me the details of your
