Cleopatra's Secret: Keepers of the LIght (31 page)

Antony laughed and shook his head. “No Alexander. I have your present right here.” Antony reached into his scarlet cloak and pulled out a sturdy little sword encased in a bronze Roman scabbard.

“Like the pirates!” squealed Alexander with joy as he accepted the sword and raised it high in the air, all shyness forgotten.

Antony, gently but firmly, grasped his son’s arm, forcing him to lower the blade. “Like a Roman general,” he said seriously. He studied the lines of Cleopatra’s proud face, “and an Egyptian pharaoh. It is a gift, Alexander, but not a toy. Raise your sword only to fight for the good of your people and use it honorably. I will teach you.”

Alexander nodded gravely and sat on the floor studying his weapon with new respect.

“You may thank Lord Antony, your father, for your gifts,” Cleopatra reminded her children.

The princess inched closer to Antony, grinning up at him with those laughing eyes, so like his own. “Thank you, Father. May I give you a kiss?”

“Of course you may!” Antony pulled her into his arms, her little hands clutching his breastplate and the back of his neck as she placed a sweet kiss on his cheek. In a moment, Alexander had lost his shyness long enough to jump into his father's embrace too. Antony cradled the precious children close and thought his heart would break with joy.

Cleopatra looked on with tears in her eyes. This was the happiest moment she could remember in many long years.

***

But not every member of the royal household was pleased with Antony’s return. Caesarion, now almost a young man, sat hunched on a stool in his favorite corner of the great library. His brow furrowed as he labored over a translation of Socrates under the benevolent gaze of his tutor, Meryre.

Caesarion looked up as one of his mother’s servants approached.

“Forgive my intrusions, Lord Horus,” the servant’s head nearly scraped the ground as he bowed before Caesarion. “The Queen of Heaven requests your presence in her chambers.”

Caesarion looked up to meet his tutor’s shrewd eyes. “It must be important for her to disturb your studies,” croaked the old man.

Caesarion frowned. “Yes.” He had a bad feeling about this summons, but quickly made his face smooth before the servant. “Thank you. I’ll go to her directly.”

Reluctantly, Caesarion excused himself from his tutor and walked back along the Canopic Way, trailed by his guards, trying to push away the feeling of foreboding as he passed the Alexandrian medical school and the amphitheater.

When he reached the palace, Caesarion made straight for his mother's private reception room, where she entertained close friends and family members. Her guards opened the carved ebony doors to reveal the shocking sight of his mother sitting on a red silk couch with Antony reclining next to her. The Roman general held his mother’s hand in his and seemed to be absorbed in examining her bejeweled fingers with keen interest.

Cleopatra and Antony looked up and smiled warmly as Caesarion stood in the doorway rooted to the floor, all the color drained out of his slender face.

“Caesarion, I know you remember Lord Antony?” His mother gestured to the Roman by her side.

“Indeed...” stammered Caesarion. “Indeed I do, Queen of Heaven.” He bowed his head politely. “How do you do, Lord Antony?”

Antony studied the boy’s features. “Why Caesarion, you are the very copy of your father! One look at you would still the wagging of many idle Roman tongues.”

Caesarion stood silent and unsmiling.

“Aren’t you pleased to see Antony?” asked Cleopatra, a stern undercurrent creeping into her melodious voice.

Caesarion looked at the floor. “I am pleased if you are pleased, Mother.”

Antony’s smile faded a bit and he folded his arms across his chest.

“You were very fond of Lord Antony as a little boy,” his mother reminded him in a gentler tone. “Don’t you remember how you used to play at wrestling and mock sword fights together? How Antony allowed you to sit on his knee at dinner and eat from his own plate? Antony was your father's great friend. He destroyed every one of the men who murdered him. Don’t you owe him a warmer reception than this?”

Caesarion boldly looked Antony straight in the eye. “I am well aware of the general's brave deeds and relationship to my father. It’s his conduct towards my mother which is of greater concern to me.”

Antony stepped forward, grasping Caesarion’s shoulder in paternal friendship. “Your loyalty does you credit. But I will swear before you, as I have done before your mother, that I will not leave again. I can’t unwrite the past. Even the Gods don’t have that power. But I give my word, I will not desert the Queen, or her family, again.”

Caesarion shook off Antony’s hand and turned to face his mother, barely able to contain his emotion. “This is the same man, is it not, who swore over our holy Nile water he would return to Alexandria as swiftly as possible! Yet instead, he married Octavian's sister and made fools of us before the world!”

“That’s enough.” Cleopatra rose from her seat, her voice deadly calm “There’s more to the story than you are aware of. You must trust my judgment in this.”

“Then tell me the rest of the story!” he demanded.

Cleopatra hesitated. She glanced at Antony, but then shook her head. “I can’t. Perhaps someday…”

For a moment Caesarion’s mutinous eyes met hers, but he could not fight his mother. He fastened his gaze to the floor and mumbled, “As you say, Queen of Heaven.”

Cleopatra looked at her son frustrated. She turned to Antony, who gave her a reassuring nod, as if to say that this would all turn out right in the end. With a sigh Cleopatra decided to let her son go for now. In time he would come to accept Antony. “Very well, Caesarion. You may return to your studies.”

Without a word, he bowed and left the room. The sight of a Roman, any Roman, made him cringe. True his father had been one. But then he had never really known Julius Caesar, had never known anything but Egypt and his mother. As he stalked through the maze of Lochias Palace, some creeping sense of the intuition he had long ago locked deep inside whispered to him that this coming of the Roman general was no less than the harbinger of his destruction.

Pushing the premonition away with angry determination, Caesarion quickened his pace as he marched out the palace gates with a fervent desire to get as far away from Marc Antony as he possibly could.

***

Cleopatra sat staring at the closed doors where her son had stood fuming a moment before, a frown puckering her brow.

Antony wrapped his arm around her waist and brushed his lips against her cheek. “He’s angry with me for hurting you and he’s right to be. But in time we’ll be friends again.” A wistful smile crossed his face. “He’s so like Caesar. Their voice and mannerisms are almost identical. I’ll work hard to gain his friendship, Cleopatra. For your sake and his father’s.”

“It’s not simply that…. We must talk.” She gave him a measuring look. How would he react to all she was about to ask of him? “Though I don’t blame you for what’s happened, Caesarion
was
correct when he said you made fools of us before the world. Now there’s much to be mended and bold action is required if we’re to survive.”

“Very well.” Antony pulled his arm away and straightened up. “Then to business. First, I must tell you that I came to Alexandria seeking help. As you must know, I’ve been waging a campaign in Parthia. The battle can’t be won, but it’s still possible to save my legions. Give me the gold to feed them and bring them medical supplies, and I swear you will have an army at your service for as long as my men remain loyal to me.”

“I’ll instruct Apollodorus to release whatever funds you require. Is that your only request?”

““No.” He cleared his throat and took a few restless paces across the room, then suddenly turned to her. The intensity and determination kindling in his eyes were like a physical force. “I’m sending Germanicus to Rome, where he will execute my divorce from Octavia. I would have sent him already, but first I must write to her and explain.” He took Cleopatra’s hand and she could read his need for her understanding in the depths of his eyes. Could he see the stab of pain in her own at the mention of his wife’s name?

“Octavia did her best to be a good wife. She has been my friend, Cleopatra. She and my daughter deserve that much from me and I have also given her my estate in Rome to sustain them.”

He cupped her chin in his hands and brushed away the traitorous tear which slipped down her cheek. “My beloved, as you said, we were all caught under a spell, but have no doubt, you are the love of my life.”

She nodded, blinking hard to hold back any trace of the emotion which threatened to overwhelm her. She knew better than anyone his marriage to Octavia was not his fault. “I know it, forgive me.”

“There’s nothing to forgive,” he said in a low voice. “Your tears only prove your love for me, which gives me hope…” he circled his hands around her waist and gently pulled her closer, so she could feel the warmth from his body next to hers. He titled her head back slightly so he could look deeply into her eyes as his voice came out in a passionate whisper. “Cleopatra, I want you to marry me. Not with contracts and lawyers, as we do in Rome, but in your sacred temple by your High Priest. I want our souls to be joined for eternity.”

She could feel the wide smile starting in her heart and blossoming up onto her tear-stained face. If only this was all there was. If only she could bask in this joy for the rest of her life. She wrapped her arms around his neck and kissed him with the soul stirring passion that, for a moment, took her away from everything but Antony. Antony, who would finally, truly be hers!

After a beautifully languorous moment, still half drugged with his kiss, Cleopatra willed herself to slip from Antony’s embrace. There was still so much to be said, even if she would prefer never to have certain conversations.

Antony looked at her hopefully. “Then you’ll marry me?”

She nodded. “I will.”

He nuzzled at her neck, his warm breath tickling the delicate skin just below her ear. “Marrying you will be the joy of my life.”

She forced herself not to melt at his touch and gently disengaged her body, taking a few steps away from the temptation of his embrace.

This was too important.

Cleopatra straightened her back. “But first, I have a few requests of my own.”

“Anything,” promised Antony.

She raised her brows with a little smile. Impulsive, overeager Antony. Age and sorrow had not tempered that. “Perhaps you should hear the list first.”

“I’m willing to do anything which will repair the damage I’ve caused, Cleopatra.”

The sincerity in his voice and expression made it harder for her to continue. But she forced herself to meet his gaze straight on as she began her list of requirements. She would treat him as she would any head of state. True, she adored him beyond reason, but she was also Pharaoh and bound to Egypt and her people.

“First,” she began, “as you have already decided, you must break from Octavian once and for all. You’ve already done as much by coming here, but it must be made clear that it is
you
who break ties with him and not the other way around.”

Though she knew they were alone, she dropped her voice to barely above a whisper. “There are secrets here, Antony, secrets you still do not understand about the Great Mysteries. Normally you would never…” she trailed off, not wanting to explain that under usual circumstances he could never hope to attaint the level of enlightenment which would allow him access to the secrets she must now reveal. But times were desperate, so she plunged ahead.

“Our rituals are not merely rites to please the Gods, or even to commune with them, although of course that’s part of it…the truth is, in the Time Before Time, those of my bloodline, The Keepers Of The Light, were given certain powers, certain knowledge.”

“Things you have not yet shown me?”

She nodded. “With the knowledge of the secret name of God, The Keepers hold the power of life itself. Of the mysteries of the universe and the powers that hold our world together: The
ka
, or particles that make up matter. With our knowledge, we could destroy the whole world if we wished to, or hold it in balance and harmony, as we do now. Without our guidance, the earth could grow so cold every last bit of land would be covered with ice and snow, or so hot the sun would sear it into a barren desert. The seas could shift, and where there are cities the land could plunge away in an earthquake so violent you would swear nothing ever stood there. The earth itself could slip off its access, shift polarities. So many catastrophes could occur.” She paused and her voice was no more than a whisper. “It has happened before.”

He stared at her incredulous. “What has happened? The world has been destroyed?”

She nodded slowly. “The world as people know it. And now we’ve been given a new chance, but mankind is not yet ready for these Mysteries. Perhaps they never will be. But surely Rome, surely Octavian, cannot lay his hands on this knowledge.”

Antony narrowed his eyes. “Is this magic you speak of?”

Cleopatra shrugged. “Call it magic, call it science, or art, or religion––it’s all the same. But the important thing is that these Mysteries must
never
fall into Octavian’s hands.” Her face was pleading, trying to convey the urgency. “Do you understand?”