'Chain him up!' Creticus screamed. 'Flog him! We may have to find a priest to purify the evil little monster!' He was quite beside himself.
'If you'll just get a grip on yourself:'
'Get a grip?' he shrieked, his face going scarlet. 'Get a grip! Decius, have you any idea what you've done? Roman citizens have been attacked! Their houses have been destroyed, their property plundered! And why? Because you skulked away from the embassy, against my orders, and killed a cat! A cat!' I thought he was sure to have a seizure.
'I have saved Rome!' I insisted. 'A big, wealthy part of the Empire, anyway.'
'Enough of these vaporings! Bring the chains.'
'Just a moment.' Julia pushed her way past him, her face white and drawn. She knelt beside me and wiped my sweaty face with a corner of her scarf.
'Decius, did you really kill that cat?'
'Absolutely not!' I told her. 'I love the sneaky little beasts. It was Ataxas. He killed it and blamed it on me. He started it all, and I have the evidence here to convict the lot of them.'
She stood and faced Creticus. 'Listen to what he has to say.'
'Listen to him! That's what caused all this trouble! I listened to him! No more! I will have him tried for treason and flung from the Tarpeian Rock! I'll have his traitorous corpse dragged on a hook down the Tiber steps and thrown into the river!'
She didn't flinch. She stood with her face three inches from his, and her voice didn't waver in the least.
'Quintus Caecilius Metellus Creticus, if you do not hear him out, my uncle, the Consul-elect Caius Julius Caesar, will have some words for you when we return to Rome.'
Creticus stood for about five minutes while his normal color returned. Then he snapped: 'Bring him inside.' We went into the atrium. 'Make it fast and convincing.'
'War,' I gasped, at the end of my resources. Suddenly Hermes was at my elbow with a brimming cup, the blessed boy. I emptied it in one gulp. 'War with Parthia. Revolt in Egypt. This is the stolen book.'
'Book!' Creticus shouted. 'You started a riot over a cat, now you want a war over a book?'
I'd had enough of this. I held one end of the scroll and tossed the bulk of it to the floor. It unrolled for the whole length of the atrium and continued into a hallway, displaying fine Greek writing, exquisite drawings, and spilling documents. I held out the cup and Hermes took it, returning in seconds with a refill. I went to the spilled documents and scooped them up, then handed them to Creticus.
'The secret treaty between Achillas and Phraates of Parthia, plotting to overthrow King Ptolemy and divide up Rome's Eastern possessions between them. Not just the final treaty, but the earlier drafts as well.' While Creticus studied it, I glared at the other embassy officials who stood tensely by. 'You weasels don't get out of paying me five hundred denarii that easily.'
Creticus grew very, very white as he read. 'Explain,' he said at last. I gave it to them, quickly, from the murder of Iphicrates to my appearance at the bottom of the embassy steps.
By the end of it, somebody had shoved a chair beneath me and I was making quick work of my third cup.
'All right,' Creticus said grimly. 'I grant you a temporary reprieve. In your insane fashion, you may have done the state some service. Let's go outside.'
There was now a great crowd of the Palace guard filling the courtyard, but we felt safe enough behind our line of Roman marines. I staggered out to stand wearily beside Creticus. Julia stood by me. I saw Fausta in the crowd of Romans, looking on happily, as if this spectacle were being staged just for her amusement. Achillas stood at the head of his soldiers. I expected him to bluster, but I had underestimated him. He was biding his time in silence, waiting to see which way he should jump.
'You think he'll storm the embassy, Decius?' Creticus said, maintaining that haughty demeanor for which Roman officials are famed all over the world.
'Wouldn't dare,' I whispered, looking equally lofty. 'It would precipitate war too soon. He needs that alliance with Parthia, and the treaty hasn't been delivered.'
Then there was a disturbance at the rear of the crowd. It looked as if a ship were sailing toward the embassy.
'Here comes Ptolemy,' Creticus said. 'Let's hope he's sober.'
Achillas and his soldiers bowed as the tremendous litter was set down in the courtyard. Its ramp was lowered and slaves unrolled his long carpet, dyed at fabulous cost with Tyrian purple. When Ptolemy descended he was sober, and he was not alone. Behind him came his newly pregnant queen, who was followed by a nurse carrying the infant Ptolemy. Behind them came the princesses: Berenice, then solemn Cleopatra, last of all little Arsinoe, holding the hand of a court lady. The marines parted to let them pass, then re-formed, their spears steady.
The message was plain: Ptolemy was putting himself and his family under the protection of Rome. As he reached the top of the steps, Creticus handed him the treaty wordlessly. The king perused it as his family filed within the embassy. Then he turned to face the crowd.
'General Achillas, come here,' Ptolemy said.
I must hand it to the man: I never saw anyone so coolly brazen. He walked up the stairs with perfect confidence and bowed deeply.
'What would my king have of me?' he asked.
'An explanation,' Ptolemy said. He held the condemning document before Achillas's face. 'You sought to arrest young Senator Metellus when he tried to bring this to me. Can you tell me why?'
'Of course, your Majesty. He was obviously deranged, a danger to both himself and the community. Alexandria is not safe for Romans at this time, and I wanted to subdue him for his own protection.'
'And this little document?' Ptolemy asked.
'I have never seen it before,' he said quite truthfully. Ptolemy raised an eyebrow in my direction.
'It was his henchman Memnon who arranged the final draft, along with the Parthian ambassador, Orodes, and the fraudulent holy man, Ataxas, acting as scribe.'
'Memnon was found murdered this morning,' Achillas said. 'What does the Senator know about that?'
'It was a fair fight. He was conspiring against King Ptolemy and against Rome. He deserved to die. But he was acting in your name, Achillas.'
He studied the document with mock seriousness. 'Then he did so without my knowledge. I see neither signature nor seal to indicate my participation. I protest that anyone should regard my name written by another's hand to be incriminating evidence.'
'Fetch the Parthian ambassador!' Ptolemy called.
'Unfortunately,' Achillas said, 'Lord Orodes was found dead near the Palace gate this morning. It seems he bled to death from a cut on the forearm.'
'Ridiculous!' I said. 'I didn't cut him that badly. There would have been more blood on the floor when he ran away.'
'You've been busier than a gladiator at a munera sine missione,' Creticus commented.
'And what would be the response,' Ptolemy said, 'should your king summon the priest Ataxas?'
'My officers report that he was killed in the rioting this morning. You know how these things are, sir. First the mob wants to kill Romans, then any foreigner will do. It seems that he was dressed and barbered like an Asiatic Greek and nobody recognized him as the Holy Ataxas. Tragic.'
Ptolemy sighed. 'General Achillas, the nomes near the first cataract are in revolt. My markets on the Elephantine Island are in great danger. You shall gather your troops and set out southward before nightfall. You are not to come back until I send for you.'
Achillas bowed. 'Your Majesty!' I protested as Achillas descended the steps and began barking orders to his troops. 'That man is a deadly danger to you! He plotted against you and against Rome. He had Iphicrates murdered when he learned that the man was making the same promises to other kings. He had Orodes and Ataxas silenced before they could be arrested and made to talk. He should be crucified forthwith.'
'His family is a very important one, young Decius,' Ptolemy said. 'I cannot move against him just now.'
'I beg you to reconsider,' I said. 'Remember how your ancestors would have handled this. They were perfect savages and they would have killed him, then annihilated his family, then gone all the way back to Macedonia, found
