Steven Saylor - The judgement of Caesar

He strode to the window and gazed at the vista that stretched to the distant Nile. "And yet…" I heard a note of resignation in his voice. I saw his shoulders sag. "You say that she's bewitched me, Gordianus, and I fear you may be right. I almost believe myself that she's a goddess, if only because she makes me feel like a god. I'm a man of fifty-two, Gordianus. Cleopatra makes me feel like a boy. I've conquered the world, and I feel weary; she offers me a fresh world to conquer, and makes me young again. She offers more than the world; she offers everlasting life. I'm fifty-two, and I've never produced an heir. Cleopatra has promised to give me a son. Can you imagine? A son to rule over not only Egypt, but Rome as well! Together we might found a dynasty to rule the whole world, forever."

I shook my head. Caesar, looking out the window, did not see my reaction, but must have sensed it.

"I suppose," he said, "this is precisely the sort of talk that turned Meto so adamantly against the queen and her influence on me. Do I sound like some deluded Eastern despot? Have I crossed the world, eluding every trap and besting every enemy, only to lose my bearings here in Egypt, to a twenty-one-year-old girl?"

"You say she promises you the world, Consul; yet she lies as easily as she breathes. You say she promises you a son; yet even if she were to announce that she was carrying your child, how could you be certain-"

He raised a hand. "Enough! Some thoughts are better left unspoken."

He clasped his hands behind his back and silently gazed out the window for such a long time that he seemed to have forgotten my presence, until finally he spoke again. The tenor of his voice had changed in some subtle way; in the silent interim, he had come to some decision regarding the queen.

But first he would deal with another matter. He cleared his throat. "I want you to know, Gordianus, that I would never have executed Meto."

"But you told me-" "I told you what I deemed necessary to tell you, in order to gain the desired result." He turned to face me. "Did the immediate threat to Meto not spur you to find the truth about the poisoned amphora?"

"Perhaps. But still-"

"I know men, Gordianus. If any skill has brought me to the place I occupy today, it's my ability to judge the character and capacity of the men around me. Some men respond to encouragement, some to threats, some to questions about their honor. The trick lies in perceiving the best way to inspire each man to do his utmost. I think I know you, Gordianus, better than you realize. The proof, as always, lies in the result."

I shook my head. "Then you never believed Meto was guilty?"

"Did I say that, Gordianus? I believe I said something slightly different. But the important thing is that Meto shall be freed at once and restored to my side."

"As if nothing had happened?"

"I've learned to forgive my foes, Gordianus. Some of them have even learned to forgive me. Should it not be easier for two friends to forgive one another?"

I gritted my teeth. "You posit a false syllogism, Consul."

"How so?"

"You need to be forgiven; Meto has done nothing for which he needs forgiveness."

"Oh, really? How good finally to hear you say that, Gordianus! Your son is blameless after all."

"I meant-"

"I know what you meant. But the choice of how to proceed beyond this… unfortunate breach of trust… lies with Meto, I think, and not with you. Is your son free to make his own decisions, or will you continue to look over his shoulder and judge him at every turn, holding him hostage to your disapproval? Have my actions toward Meto been any more destructive than your own, when you disowned him? If that breach could be healed, then can this one not be healed as well?"

How deftly Caesar had turned the tables on me, elevating his own decisions above argument while challenging my paternal authority and moral judgment! I chafed at his insinuation, but I could not summon a rebuttal. Either Meto was his own man, or he was not; and if he was, then I had to acknowledge once and for all that he had moved beyond my power to shape his opinions and desires. Would he rush back to Caesar's side, his imperator's "unfortunate breach of trust" forgiven and forgotten? Or had the worm of doubt insinuated itself permanently into Meto's thoughts, and would he never again be able to render to Caesar the loving allegiance the man once had commanded of him? Caesar was right: The choice belonged to Meto, not to me.

But it seemed there was another, more immediate choice at hand, to be made by Caesar. He turned from me and summoned the guard at the door, to whom he issued an instruction in a voice too low for me to hear. He began to pace the room, staring at his reflection in the highly polished marble floor, apparently oblivious of me. Like many of the powerful men I had known, he possessed the ability to move from one preoccupation to another without transition, focusing his entire energies on the problem immediately before him. He had dealt with and was done with me, and though I might linger in his physical presence, for all practical purposes I had already vanished.

I cleared my throat. "If the consul is done with me-"

Caesar looked up, like a sleeper pulled from a dream. "Gordianus! No, stay. I'm about to make a decision too long deferred. Someone should be here to witness the moment. Why not you? Yes, I think Gordianus the Finder is precisely the man to be with me at this moment."

We waited; for what, I wasn't sure. At last, the guard stationed at the door announced that Caesar's visitor had arrived. A moment later, leaving his courtiers in the antechamber outside, the king stepped into the room.

I dropped to one knee. Caesar remained standing.

Giving a vague wave of his hand to signal that I might rise, but otherwise showing no acknowledgment of my presence, Ptolemy strode directly to Caesar and stopped a few paces from him. He wore the uraeus crown with a rearing cobra; his bearing was erect. He seemed somehow different-no longer a boy with the attributes of a man, but a man who had left boyhood behind. The gaze he exchanged with Caesar was that of equals, despite the difference in their ages.

"Your Majesty," said Caesar, inclining his head slightly.

"Consul," said Ptolemy, his eyes flashing and a faint smile softening his lips. The resemblance to his sister was more striking than ever.

Caesar sighed. "We've talked before, at great length, about what's to be done. You remain adamant in your position?"

"I shall never share the throne with my sister. Pothinus, whatever his true motives, eventually convinced me to compromise; but Pothinus is no longer here."

I realized the source of the change I saw in Ptolemy; it was due not to something added, but something subtracted. Except for his exhortations from the balcony of the Tomb of Alexander, I had never before seen the king outside the presence of Pothinus. Perhaps those who believed the lord chamberlain had cast an undue influence over the king were right. With Pothinus gone, Ptolemy seemed to have grown to full manhood overnight.

"Your Majesty realizes the difficulties of the decision I face," said Caesar.

"I do."

"But ultimately, as events have unfolded, and as the character of each of the Piper's children has become clearer to me…"

Ptolemy regarded him quizzically. "The consul has made a choice between us?"

"I have."

"And?"

"You know how fervently I desired to reconcile you with your sister. Even now, were it possible, it seems to me the judicious course. And yet it manifestly is not possible, and so another choice must be made…"

Ptolemy tilted his head back and narrowed his eyes. "Go on, Consul."

"I have decided, Your Majesty, to support your claim to be the sole ruler of Egypt."