The Memoirs of Cleopatra - Part 125
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Part 125

"So if it chance that you meet Octavian alone," I told them, "treat him with all courtesy. Be sure to call him . . . Imperator Caesar." It was all I could do not to choke on the words. " 'Octavian' antagonizes him."

"Why?" asked Alexander. "It's his name!"

"Well, it is one of his names. It is the name he had when he was your age. But as he grew older, he acquired others, ones he liked better. Just as you are both 'Alexander' and 'Helios,' so he has four names. Someday you may prefer to call yourself 'Helios.' Then you will understand."

"I don't think so!" he said. "It would make me seem very pompous."

"Some people do not mind being pompous," I said.

"I am pleased that my children aren't among them," said Antony.

"Aren't we cousins to Octavian?" asked Selene.

"Distant," said Antony. "He is Caesar's great-nephew, and I am Caesar's third cousin, once removed. You figure it out!"

"Hmmm." Alexander knitted his brow. I could see him trying to sort it all out in his head. He was quite good at mathematics. "I would need a paper for that," he finally admitted.

"I wish you to indulge me in a fancy," I told them. I held the stem of the agate cup in my right hand. "This was my father's drinking cup," I said. "I remember him filling it, lifting it to his lips. Drink from it with me." I motioned, and a servant filled the vessel. "I think he told me once it had come from Macedon, but I honestly cannot remember. In any case, I always a.s.sociate it with him, and now I would like to see it in your hands." I sipped from it and then handed it to Alexander.

He dutifully tilted his head back and drank from it, then pa.s.sed it to Selene. She closed her eyes and lifted the cup daintily.

"Philadelphos, too?" she asked.

"All of you," I said.

My youngest took a big swig from it, then handed it to Antyllus.

What would become of Antyllus? I wondered. Antony had made no provision for him, as if he could not bear to. He trusted that Octavian would carry him back to Rome and preserve him. There was no place to send him, no sh.o.r.e of refuge; Egypt and India were not part of his heritage. Poor Antony, the displaced Roman. My heart ached for him.

"My children, in only a few days Alexandria may be attacked," I told them. "You are to follow the instructions my captain of the Household Guard gives you for your safety. We have prepared hiding places for you in the tunnels beneath the palace. They are stocked with food, lamps, water. When you are given the signal, you must take shelter there. We have no way of knowing what will happen after that." I paused. "Whatever you do, whatever you feel, remember your blood. It is precious, and will be honored even by the enemy. Do not be afraid."

"Aren't we going to fight?" asked Alexander.

"Indeed yes!" Antony said in his old voice. "We have four legions at our service, as well as the formidable Macedonian Household Guard, and the Egyptian soldiers. And our cavalry is well trained. I shall lead them myself."

"Not to mention our fleet," I reminded him. "We still have some survivors from Actium, as well as the new-built ships, at the ready."

"We will draw up the battle lines around the city," said Antony. It was as if, knowing the efforts to be last-ditch and doomed, he was now ready to throw all his might behind them. But he should have gathered his far-flung legions earlier, fortified the Nile, strengthened Pelusium and its garrison of Egyptian soldiers. Too late, the flame of resistance burned brightly in Antony, his heroism flaring now like a funeral pyre.

"Octavian is marching toward Pelusium," I told the children. "He has to traverse the desert highway to do so, a wavering, waterless stretch in these days of high summer."

"Pelusium," said Antony. "I took Pelusium . . . long ago."

"Yes, you are familiar with it," I said.

"When I was a young cavalry officer, and Gabinius had decided to restore your grandfather Auletes to the throne"--he leaned forward, speaking to Alexander and Selene--"for ten thousand talents, he sent me on ahead to take the fortress, while he waited in comfort back in Judaea. I took it by storm ... yes . . ." He had retreated back far in time, the years rolling off him. His voice changed. "It's a difficult place to capture, but I led a ma.s.sive a.s.sault on it, and it fell. Then, the way having been cleared for them, Gabinius and the King followed. They wanted to kill the Egyptian prisoners of war, but I absolutely refused. They had fought bravely, I said, and should be spared. Oh, were they angry with me!" He took a deep drink of his wine.

"And you became wildly popular with the Egyptians as a result," I said. "They were touched, one and all, by your mercy."

"Yes, it was the beginning of a mutual love affair with Egypt," said Antony.

"From that moment onward, we were as one." He paused dramatically "And then I met your mother," he said to the children, leaning over conspiratorially. "When she was only a little older than you." He touched Selene's chin.

"I cannot imagine her ever that way," she said, with all the ferocious ignorance of the very young.

"Oh, she was, she was," said Antony. "She was young as Persephone, before Pluto grabbed her. As young as the flowers she gathered. And I loved her from the first instant I glimpsed her."

"He embellishes," I a.s.sured the children. "His memory gilds the past."

"No, it is true!" averred Antony.

"Ever gallant," I said. Perhaps I was embarra.s.sed because I had not loved him then, or even realized I would ever see him again. It seemed so blind of me--how could I not have known? My only strong memory of him was standing beside him at the Dionysus festival. He had spoken knowledgeably of wine, and had been kind about my father's indulgence. For that I had been grateful.

"Pelusium may hold fast," said Antony. "Octavian may never breach its defenses. But whatever happens, remember that you will be safe," he told the children. "There is etiquette in war, and the children of the high-ranking are always treated courteously. Alexander started that, with the wife and children of Darius. They expected to be murdered or sold into slavery, but he treated them honorably. He even married Darius's daughter."

"Well, I shall never marry Octavian!" said Selene, with a toss of her head.

"I told you they were sn.o.bs," said Antony, turning to me, laughing. Then he looked at them. "Listen, my dearests. You must do whatever seems expedient at the time."

I suddenly remembered a verse from Epaphroditus's poetry. "Yes. 'For a living dog is better than a dead lion.' "

Because as long as there is life, the wheel of fortune can turn and elevate you.

The sweetness of the luscious figs and dates in honey custard we ate to finish the meal did little to help our spirits. I watched the children eating, and they all seemed winsome to me; only a monster would think of harming them. But the young of all species are appealing, even baby crocodiles and cobras. Hard-hearted hunters kill them without a thought, condemning them not for what they are, but for what they might become. My heart ached for it. I could only pray that a combination of political hesitation, pragmatism, and family sentiment might stay the hand of Octavian, who was no high-minded Alexander. But he was known to be oddly reverent toward his own relatives--the Roman family was his only real G.o.d, in spite of his shrines to Apollo--and these children shared his Julian blood. Since he believed it was sacred and inherently better than any other, he might wish to conserve it.

Isis, let it be so!

stood and held out my arms after the last platters had been removed. "Come here, all of you," I said. I wished to embrace them, for us all to embrace one another. The four of them obeyed, and Alexander and Selene hugged my sides, their heads just under my shoulders; Philadelphos encircled my knees, and Antyllus and Antony made an outer protective sh.e.l.l around us all.

Quite unbidden, the thought Never leave me! Never leave me! flashed through my mind. But all I said was, "Let all of us always remember one another, and this moment." flashed through my mind. But all I said was, "Let all of us always remember one another, and this moment."

"Pelusium has fallen." Antony pushed aside the curtains into the room where I was working and blurted it out.

"No!" I rose. "So quickly!" It had not been more than seven days since our last word that Octavian was on his way from Raphia.

"There was little or no resistance," he said. "It fell so easily that there is suspicion of collusion. The garrison commander, Seleucus. . . was he bought?"

I guessed what he was thinking. Unreliable, cowardly Egyptian troops! Unreliable, cowardly Egyptian troops! But it was not so. "What exactly happened?" My heart was racing. Pelusium gone. The way to Alexandria open. But it was not so. "What exactly happened?" My heart was racing. Pelusium gone. The way to Alexandria open.

"The invaders were allowed to come close to the walls, and immediately both sides started bargaining. Shameful!" He shook his head. "Pelusium is hard to take, since there is no water anywhere outside the walls. Attackers are at a serious disadvantage, because they arrive already thirsty. The fort has all the advantages. To surrender like that!" He clenched his fists.

I should not have said it, but I did. "If you felt it was so strategic, why did you not invest it with one of your legions? Why did you leave Seleucus to come to the obvious conclusion that you didn't consider them important?"

"I trusted them to hold it themselves!"

"The message you gave was the opposite, that you didn't have any trust in them at all, and had sacrificed them in advance."

"How dare you say that?" he yelled. "And if you thought it, why didn't you speak up then?"

"Because you were sunk in your hopelessness. You had given up, and could not be roused to action."

"I hadn't!" His face grew red.

"What else could forming a club dedicated to dying together signal? Even if you didn't mean it, the rest of the world took you at your word. Everyone heard about it, you can be sure of that. If you were Seleucus, and heard that your commander-in-chief had banded together with friends pledged to die, what would you think?"

"It was just a jest."

"No, it wasn't. Not to those watching you. I am sure Octavian has heard about it as well; doubtless he feels it will make his task easier."

"You should have stopped me!"

"I tried. But you ignored me." I spread my hands. "Enough of this blaming.

What will we do now? He will be here soon--here in Alexandria!" The thought was horrible.

"Talk to the messenger yourself," said Antony sulkily. He called him in, a young Egyptian cavalryman.

He had ridden fast to get here in only a few days, racing across fields and jumping ca.n.a.ls in the Delta. The Nile had not started to rise yet, so there were no flooded fields to block him. He had not dared to sail, because Octavian's fleet already controlled the sea between us and Pelusium.

"Your Majesty," he said, falling to one knee and staring at me.

No, not now! I thought irritably. Don't let him gawk because he sees me close-up. "What is your name?" I asked briskly.

"Sennufer, Your Majesty."

"Rise, Sennufer," I said. "A name from Upper Egypt, I see." And he had the sinewy strength and fine bearing of those people. "What exactly did you see at Pelusium?"

"From the walls we saw the host of Romans approaching from the desert road; they were moving surprisingly fast for their second day of a forced, waterless march. They kept their formations well, too. They surrounded the fortress--"

"How many of them were there?"

"Not as many as we had expected. Not more than seven legions."

I turned to Antony. "Then he must have left the rest behind in Syria and Judaea." Hope sprang up inside me. If he had only seven legions, and we had four, plus the Egyptians, then . . .

"Octavian is not nearly as sure of his new-pledged allies as he pretends, then," said Antony.

"We have a chance against him," I said. "Now tell me, how did the troops behave? What happened as they approached the walls . . . ?"

After he was shown out, I felt a giddy sense of hope. Pelusium was gone, but our numbers were more evenly matched than we had realized. And all our forces were concentrated in Alexandria, where we could take a stand, fighting with the advantage of defending our home territory. Antony had finally awakened and would lead as only he could. The men would follow him; he had the inborn ability to inspire his troops. They would cry out in grat.i.tude and relief that their leader had finally come back to himself.

When Octavian came calling, he would get a b.l.o.o.d.y surprise. And if the G.o.ds were truly on our side, he might find himself in his beloved Roman mausoleum sooner than he had antic.i.p.ated. What a good thing he had readied it before his departure.

HERE ENDS THE NINTH SCROLL. ENDS THE NINTH SCROLL.

Chapter 84.

THE TENTH SCROLL.

The sea was still. The whole world was holding its breath. Through the streets, deserted at high noon, the wind had failed, leaving the walls of the buildings to radiate blinding light and heat. From my high vantage point on the palace walls, I could see nothing stirring in my whole city. And the doors shall be shut in the streets. . . . And the doors shall be shut in the streets. . . .

I leaned over the ramparts of the tower on the side that faced the harbor; below were the broad marble steps descending into the water, visible as wavering lines below the surface. This was where servants gathered, where children splashed and played, where the little trireme was tied up. But today no one but soldiers were there, deployed around the grounds: my Macedonian Guard, the last bastion an invader would have to dispatch before storming the palace itself.

The stone under my arm was sizzling hot, almost hot enough to burn my flesh. The last day of the month of Julius; already we were in the Egyptian month of Mesore. And still no Octavian.

I pulled back from the edge of the wall, its dazzling light making my eyes ache. Against the whiteness the sea's blue was pure as the soul of an unborn child. Out past the Lighthouse, beyond the breakwaters, the blue was unbroken. No ships on the horizon--yet.

My own fleet was drawn up in the harbor, waiting. As at Actium. There were some hundred battleships, both Egyptian and Roman.

The messages from Octavian had ceased. I had never made use of the sphinx seal, for I had nothing to say to him beyond what had already been said. Evidently he was prepared to call my bluff--if he judged it to be so-- and proceed to Alexandria and take his chances on seizing the treasure before I could destroy it.

The intensity of the light and the radiation of the heat made me dizzy. But I forced myself to stay where I was.

It will be dark and quiet enough in the mausoleum, will be dark and quiet enough in the mausoleum, I reminded myself. Get I reminded myself. Get your fill of the sun now. your fill of the sun now.

We had had reports of his progress, of course. Lookouts had galloped to us, reporting, Now he's at Daphnae . . . now crossing the Necho ca.n.a.l from the Bitter Lakes . . . now at Pithom . . . now at Heliopolis. . . . Now he's at Daphnae . . . now crossing the Necho ca.n.a.l from the Bitter Lakes . . . now at Pithom . . . now at Heliopolis. . . .

Heliopolis. Once he pa.s.sed that, and crossed over the Nile proper, then little distance was left between us.

He had seven legions, and Agrippa was not with him. He marched without his right arm, coming to believe in his own superior luck. In a hideous reversal, he marched along the same route Caesar had taken to defend me and save Alexandria. Caesar had proceeded stealthily and caught the enemy off guard, but we were only too well apprised of Octavian's whereabouts.

Then, four days ago, he was sighted at Terenuthis, on the Canopic branch of the Nile, and yesterday at Canopus itself, fifteen miles away.

It had been a fast march. Would he rest his troops before the final push? They would be tired from the unbroken exertion from Raphia onward. And he surely knew that the struggle for Alexandria would be fierce.

We had four Roman legions, with enough Egyptian troops to const.i.tute a fifth, as well as a respectable arm of cavalry. Antony had stationed the Egyptians at strategic places in the city and drawn up the Romans just outside the Gate of the Sun on the east, ready to face Octavian.

Now, at such a late hour, Antony's fighting spirit had returned, as if Mars had been slumbering and belatedly awakened to anoint him with war blood. He had been exercising the troops and readying them ever since Octavian had taken Pelusium.

Something on the horizon . . . ships? I shielded my eyes and looked as hard as I could, but it faded. Perhaps it was only a gull, seen out of the corner of my vision. Toward the other direction, the east, I could not see over the walls of the city from where I stood.

All was in readiness. The children were practiced in what to do, places of refuge for them waited in the depths of the palace, Mardian and Olympos and Charmian and Iras had their final instructions. I had, in my thorough way, tried to provide for everything, down to the last detail. Especially the last detail.

But I believed we still had a reasonable chance, not only of survival but even of victory. Octavian would be fighting with severe disadvantages--tired, unpaid soldiers on unfamiliar ground, with himself as their commander. He was no match for Antony at his best, or for our rested troops fighting for their home city.

I had been holding a bouquet of summer flowers, and they were wilting in the glare. So I pulled the flowers out one by one and dropped them down into the waiting water, seeing them fall through the air and land lightly. Little spots of color floated bravely, making a mosaic of sorts.

Footsteps--heavy ones. Antony bounded around the corner, having taken the steps two at a time in spite of his heavy armor and sword.