Steven Saylor - The judgement of Caesar

Closer at hand, I heard a familiar voice. "Caesar!"

The consul, seeing Meto beside the path, stopped and opened his arms wide. "Meto! You look well, thank Venus!"

Meto hung back, but the smile on Caesar's face overcame his hesitation. They embraced.

"The messenger said-"

Caesar nodded. "You've been cleared of all suspicion, thanks to the insights of your father."

"Papa!" Meto hugged me. It was to Caesar he had first spoken, and to Caesar he gave his first embrace; but I tried to think only of the joy I felt at seeing him unharmed and free and out of danger.

"This must mean you found an answer to the question of what happened on Antirrhodus," said Meto, looking quizzically at me and then at Caesar.

"Indeed, your father did exactly that," said Caesar. "But the explanation will have to wait. Cleopatra stands on the pier, and there is something I must tell her."

Caesar led the way, taking long, quick strides.

"Papa, what's happening?" whispered Meto.

I was about to speak, but Caesar looked over his shoulder and silenced me with a glance.

The afternoon sunlight, reflected off the stones of the pier and the water of the harbor, was dazzling. Gulls swooped and cried overhead. Waves lapped against the steps leading down to the royal skiff. Cleopatra, seeing Caesar, smiled at his approach, but as we drew closer, I saw a twist of anxiety at the corner of her mouth. When she saw Meto, the smile remained but grew stiff. She raised her hands to take Caesar's, but he stopped short of stepping close enough, and she was left with an awkward, unfinished gesture of welcome. She drew back her hands and frowned.

"Caesar, what's happening?"

He looked at her gravely. "There's been… a development."

"Good or bad? Bad, to judge from the look on your face."

Caesar averted his eyes.

"Caesar? What's happening? Tell me now!" In her suddenly strident tone, I heard the voice of her younger brother.

When he still did not answer, she shifted to a more formal tone. "Consul," she said, and I knew she suspected the truth, for she was testing to see whether Caesar, in response, would formally address her as the queen.

He drew a deep breath and was about to speak when a cry came from one of the Roman watchmen who patrolled the rooftops of the palace behind us. "Warships! Warships! Egyptian warships entering from the Eunostos Harbor!"

All eyes turned toward the Heptastadion. Near the center of the causeway, a tunnel allowed ships to sail from one harbor to the other. With their oars working at a furious pace, one Egyptian warship after another was entering the great harbor. Their decks were crowded with soldiers and catapults and bristled with spears.

Another watchman cried out from the rooftops: "Smoke! Flames! Fire at the barricades next to the royal theater!"

As one, those of us on the pier swung around to witness the cloud of black smoke that rose from the area where Caesar's defenses were most strongly concentrated. At the same time, a heavy, percussive vibration traveled through the air, rattling my teeth-the boom… boom… boom of a distant battering ram. Achillas's forces had launched a coordinated attack by land and by sea on Caesar's position.

I looked at Caesar and saw a series of emotions sweep across his face-consternation, outrage, and bitter disappointment. He saw that I stared at him, and he seized my arm in a painful grip. He drew me aside and hissed in my ear. "Gordianus! You were there. You saw. You heard. Did the king not pledge to call off Achillas and his troops?"

"He did."

"Then what can be happening?"

From the direction of the approaching warships, I heard a loud crack, followed by a recoil. One of the Egyptian warships, slipping past Caesar's galleys, had advanced to a point within firing distance of the pier. Had some eagle-eyed scout spotted Caesar and Cleopatra, or had those in charge of the catapult simply let off a shot at the first available target? Whatever the case, the flaming ball of pitch hurtled towards us. One of Cleopatra's serving girls let out a shriek, and some of those around me scrambled back. But the missile fell short; with a splash and a hiss, it landed in the water some distance from the pier, but close enough to send a spray of hot vapor across my face.

My arm was still captured in Caesar's painful grip. "It's because of her!" he whispered. "It's because I wouldn't let him have her. He hates his sister more than he loves me! He must have issued an order to attack, the moment he reached Achillas. He knows where I've deployed my men and fortified my defenses; he's told Achillas exactly where to mount the assault. The wretched little viper!"

Cleopatra stood a short distance away. Her eyes were not on the approaching warship, but on us. In all the commotion, she had not moved at all. Her expression, if anything, was more composed than before. There was even, unless I imagined it, a slight intimation of a smile on her face. Had she grasped, in an instant, exactly what had transpired? I think so; for the smile on her face was a smile of a queen who has snatched triumph from the jaws of defeat.

"It would appear, Consul, that we are under attack." Her use of the word "we" was not an accident. "I'm surprised that Achillas would mount such an assault, considering that my brother is in your custody."

She did know what had happened. She was baiting Caesar to tell her the truth. He did not answer.

The warship drew closer. I could now make out the faces of the Egyptian soldiers on the deck, and I could see that the catapult was being ratcheted back to launch another fireball at us.

"Or could it be," said Cleopatra, "that this assault is being launched at the instigation of my brother?"

Caesar drew a breath. "Your Majesty perceives the situation. Not an hour ago I released your brother and allowed him to join Achillas."

"But why, Consul?"

"Imperator!" cried Meto. "We must withdraw at once! The danger-"

Caesar looked away from the queen long enough to bark an order. "Withdraw to safety! All of you! Now!"

Meto moved to take his arm. "Imperator, you must come as well-" Caesar shook him off, but curiously, with his other hand, he held me as fast as ever. "Go, Meto. Lead the others to safety. I'll follow in a moment. Go! I order you!"

Reluctantly, Meto turned and gestured for the others to follow him off the pier. I could not have done so had I wanted to; Caesar held me fast in his grip.

He spoke to Cleopatra. "Your brother begged me to let him go to Achillas. He vowed to me that he would order Achillas to withdraw his troops. He promised to return to the palace as soon as that was done."

"And you believed him?"

"I accepted a vow made by the king of Egypt."

"My father was the king of Egypt! My brother is nothing more than a foolish boy."

"I see that now. And if he ever was the king, then, as of this moment, Ptolemy is king no longer, and never will be."

A fire leaped behind Cleopatra's eyes. "What are saying, Caesar?"

"I abandon all attempts to reconcile you with your brother. As consul of the Roman people, and executor of your father's will, I recognize you as queen of Egypt and sole claimant to the throne."

"And Ptolemy?"

"Ptolemy has betrayed me. In doing so, he's betrayed his people as well, and his own destiny. Once we've defeated him and his army, I shall take whatever steps are necessary to ensure that he can never again lay claim to the throne or do harm to you in any other way."

I heard a loud crack, much closer than before, followed by a recoil. The catapult had launched a second fireball at us. It arced through the air, its trajectory hard to determine from my foreshortened point of view.

"Go, Your Majesty!" said Caesar. "Follow the others to a place of safety."