Steven Saylor - The judgement of Caesar

Mopsus did likewise, jumping about the room and slicing the air with an invisible sword. "With a whack and a whoosh-"

Rupa made a face and covered his ears. Merianis sighed. "The boys grow restless, trapped inside all day."

"Restless, indeed!" Not only were they unable to go about the city, but I had forbidden them to make any further explorations in the palace's secret passages. "If only I could send them out on some errand. A very long errand."

Merianis smiled. "Perhaps you and I should go out for a bit."

"I think not! The last time I ventured out with you, Merianis, I very nearly got my head staved in by bloodthirsty dockworkers. For all I know, they're still out there hunting for Romans."

"But I have another idea. Come with me, Gordianus."

"Where?"

"Trust me!"

I looked at her askance.

"With a whack and a whoosh!" shouted Mopsus.

"He chopped it in two!" cried Androcles.

I winced. "Very well, Merianis. Take me away from here. Quickly!" "Where are we going?"

"You'll see."

It seemed at first that we were heading toward the Roman sector, but at some point Merianis turned down an unfamiliar corridor, and I found myself in a part of the palace unknown to me. I was amazed anew at the extent and the opulence of the royal complex.

At last we stepped into the bright sunshine of a garden that fronted the harbor. We crossed the garden, breathing warm, jasmine-scented air, and descended several flights of steps. The cloudless sky was dazzling. The galleys of Caesar's small fleet were scattered here and there across the water, their prows turned to face the harbor entrance, which was barred by a massive chain. Beyond the great harbor, impossibly big, loomed the great lighthouse of Pharos.

Merianis led me to a pier made of stone that projected a considerable distance into the harbor. We passed a series of small buildings, their rooftops decorated with colorful pennants. Beside a squat statue of Bes, the Egyptian god of pleasure, a flight of steps led down to a little skiff. I sucked in a breath, for the boat was exactly like the one in which Pompey had taken his final journey, its prow carved in the shape of a standing ibis with wings outstretched and its rim decorated with ornate carvings of crocodiles, cranes, and Nile river-horses, the images plated with hammered silver and inlaid with bits of lapis and turquoise for the eyes.

A man wearing only a brief loincloth sat in the boat, leaning back against the prow with his arms behind his head and his eyes closed, basking in the sun. As we stepped closer, I saw that it was Apollodorus, the Sicilian who had delivered Cleopatra to Caesar.

Merianis called his name. He lazily opened one eye.

"Dozing, in the middle of the day?" said Merianis. "What would the queen think of that?"

Apollodorus smiled and placed a hand over his loincloth, splaying his fingers. "Perhaps it's the queen who made me so tired."

"Blasphemer!" said Merianis, but her tone was playful. Apollodorus roused himself, stood in the boat, and shook his great mane of hair as if to untangle it. He cast a heavy-lidded gaze at Merianis and leaned forward with puckered lips. She pretended to reciprocate the gesture, then pulled back at the last moment, so that Apollodorus kissed empty space and almost lost his balance, circling his arms wildly to steady himself.

Merianis gave a deep, throaty laugh. "Summon the boatmen at once, you big lout!"

"Boatmen? Do you think I can't row you there myself?" He made a show of massing his biceps.

"As you wish." Merianis stepped into the boat and reached back to take my hand.

I sat beside her at the prow. "Where are you taking me, Merianis?"

"You'll see."

Apollodorus rowed us away from the pier. Seen from the harbor, the long expanse of the palace complex presented a vista of balconies, shaded alcoves, hanging gardens, and roof terraces. I was able to discern the high room of the building in which I had dined with Caesar and where Cleopatra had been presented to him, and adjacent to that building the great theater with its seats facing the harbor; Roman soldiers armed with spears patrolled the highest tier, and I recalled that Caesar had spoken of the theater's virtues as a possible stronghold in case of attack. Since the riots set off by Ptolemy's harangue, Caesar and his soldiers had begun to fortify the sector of the palace complex that they occupied, closing off streets and barricading the open spaces between buildings with whatever materials were at hand.

The large buildings connected by porticos along the waterfront dominated the skyline, for Alexandria is mostly flat; but there are a few hills, and upon the tallest of these, looming over the western half of the city, stands the great temple of Serapis, the Zeus-like god whom the first Ptolemy elevated to a place in the Egyptian pantheon to rival even Osiris. Above the waterfront rooftops, I could see the temple at a great distance, a majestic building not unlike the Parthenon in Athens and considerably larger, though the hill upon which it sits is not nearly as commanding as the Acropolis.

I felt a catch in my throat. This was the view of Alexandria I would have seen upon our arrival by ship had the storm not blown us off course. This had been my last view of the city, when Bethesda and I departed by ship many years ago, and the view I had expected to share with her upon our return.

"Gordianus-called-Finder, are you unhappy?"

"Why do you ask, Merianis?"

"There's a tear upon your cheek."

"It's nothing. Just a drop of sea-spray," I said, wiping it away and willing the flurry in my chest to subside. "We seem to be approaching Antirrhodus," I said, referring to the largest of the small islands in the harbor, which was reserved for the exclusive use of the royal family; its name declared it, rather fancifully, to be a rival to the great island of Rhodes. The locals sometimes called it the Floating Palace, for the island was so built up with towers, promenades, and balconies that it looked as if a part of the palace complex had detached itself from the mainland and floated into the harbor. To set foot upon Antirrhodus without royal permission carried a sentence of death, and sailors coming and going in the harbor took pains to avoid it. Among ordinary Alexandrians, the island held a special mystique; some said that the late king had held parties of unimaginable debauchery there, while others thought it was the repository of mystical objects and magical talismans handed down from the days of the ancient pharaohs.

"Have you ever been there?" asked Merianis.

I laughed. "No, Merianis. During my last sojourn in Alexandria, many years ago, I was hardly a part of the royal inner circle."

"And yet here you are, about to land on Antirrhodus. You've come up in the world since the days of your youth."

"Or else the world has come down," I said.

Apollodorus rowed us into a small, walled harbor and up to the landing place. The Egyptian guards on patrol raised their spears, then grinned when they saw Merianis.

"I bring a visitor to see the queen," she said, stepping off the boat and reaching for my hand.

"Another Roman?" One of the guards, a grizzled veteran with an ugly scar on his cheek, eyed me suspiciously.

"Forgive his tone, Gordianus. Captain Cratipus commands the Queen's Protectors. They're an elite company of warriors who've guarded her person since the day she was born. They shielded her when her sister Berenice usurped the throne, and also when King Ptolemy returned and put Berenice to death. They protected her throughout the turmoil that followed her father's death, and stayed beside her during her exile in the desert. Over the years, no small number of their company have died for her. They're fanatically loyal. For their devotion, the goddess Isis will reward them in the afterlife by allowing them to attend the queen in the Kingdom of the Dead."