Cleopatra's Secret: Keepers of the LIght (39 page)

She could have stayed under Charmion’s comforting hands with their gentle strength kneading her limbs all day, but regretfully, she motioned for her attendant to stop. Charmion wrapped her in a robe of the softest white linen and combed Cleopatra’s gleaming black hair straight down her back, clasping it with a simple golden pin. Cleopatra lined her jade eyes with kohl and rouged her lips and cheeks to an apricot glow.

She paused to look dispassionately at her face in the reflective bronze mirror. No matter what took place, her beauty never diminished. It was a simple fact. She was not stirred by vanity or pride as her lovely reflection stared back. She only wondered what good it could possibly do Egypt now.

Still weak from her illness, she ordered her litter and traveled through the maze of Lochias palace to her private dock, where a small boat bobbed on the Mediterranean.

The vessel shifted under her as a she stepped aboard. She stared across the Port Of Many Happy Returns to the great lighthouse rising up from Pharos. The wind sprang up as her men began to row and the boat cut through the sea. The sun shone and the sky was a lovely clear blue but her heart grew heavier with every oar stroke that brought her closer to the lighthouse.

She steadied herself as they reached the nearly deserted island with its rocky uninhabited terrain with only the lighthouse and a few other huts kept by fishermen.

She motioned for her men to stay aboard as she climbed onto the barren island. She knew her servants did not indulge in idle chatter, but she wasn’t quite sure what she would find in Antony’s tiny shack.

She would face her husband and his demons alone.

Cleopatra crossed the mossy rocks, the spray of the ocean dampening her tunic as she made her way to Antony’s hut. It was a ram-shackled hovel set above a sharp crag pounded by foamy white surf even when the sea was gentle and calm. On stormy days, the waves practically crashed through the front door soaking the rotting floorboards of the building. Once a fisherman’s hut, it had been abandoned for some time and barely looked habitable to Cleopatra as she arrived at the door, and taking a deep breath, abruptly pushed it open.

Antony sat staring vacantly at the ocean from his window, a jug of wine in his lap. His beard had grown in and his face looked shadowed and lean, almost not even like his own.

Unexpected fire raged through her. She was so furious she could not even speak for a moment to see him so completely abandoned to his bitterness. Carefully controlling her voice, she asked, “What are you doing here?”

He turned his head slowly until his blood-shot eyes met hers. “You’re alive.”

He took a long swig from his wine jug and turned his attention back to the ocean churning outside his window.

Heartbreak mixed with her anger. Was this the proud Roman general she had married only a few months ago? “Antony, what’s come over you?” she asked, moving to his side.

He did not respond, just sat staring vacantly at the sea.

She clutched his shoulder trying to convey the urgency of her communication. “Octavian has raised an army and he’s marching on Alexandria. If you don’t rouse yourself, and your men, Egypt will be destroyed!”

Antony did not respond.

Cleopatra passed a hand over her eyes. This was a nightmare. Surely she still dwelt in the Land of the Reeds and this was some evil dream.

“Antony,” she could not keep the tremor from her voice, “I don’t know why you’re so angry with me. I saved over half of your men and all our wealth from Octavian. He has won this battle because he proclaims loud and clear for everyone to hear that he is victorious. Where’s your voice? Why do
you
not claim the victory? Your troops desert you because you won’t go to them! You allow them to be seduced by Octavian’s lies because there is no one to tell them the truth! Rouse yourself and your troops before it’s too late!”

His voice was mocking and unkind, slurring from the wine. “The Queen of Heaven wishes to know what’s come over the brave, heroic Lord Antony?” He paused to drink again, sloppily dripping wine down his chin. “It’s whispered among the troops that the Queen is a witch who has poisoned his soul. That she has deceived him and arranged the scenery for his defeat and dishonor. Why would she do this? We don’t know. It’s a Mystery, but for her own devious means–”

Enraged, she knocked the jug from his hands where it cracked apart on the floor, purple wine staining her white robe like blood.

“
That
is your poison!” she cried, pointing to the spilled wine with a trembling hand. “You poison yourself!”

“Forgive me, Queen of Heaven, but was it not you who taught me the worship of Dionysus? I only ply my libations in his honor. I drink,” he said with mock ceremony, “in honor of the Gods!”

She looked at him in disgust. “There are no Gods here.”

“No, they’ve all deserted me.” Antony once again turned his attention to the fretful gray ocean waves tossing outside his window.

“Make no mistake, Antony, it is you who desert the Gods and all of us as well!”

She turned and fled from the cottage, running as fast as she could along the sharp rocks, blind with fury. She ran until she reached the edge of the island where she stopped, out of breath, her chest raw with bitter tears that would not flow, gasping for air as her heartbeat pounded in her ears. She just stood there shaking with rage as she looked out at the horizon across the wide ocean.

The seagulls were circling above uneasy waves, calling out, their piercing cries ringing in the sea air as they dove into the water seeking their prey. Cleopatra watched them from the rocky shore.

How soon before Octavian arrived to crush Alexandria?

Cleopatra pressed her eyes shut. She felt sick, trapped. There must be a way out of this. Why couldn’t she see it? Clasping her hands at her heart she prayed silently.

Isis save us! Please save us!

But the sea whispered no words on the wind and the murmur of the waves intoned no portent.

She opened her eyes. The birds had flown and the sun shone bright in a clear empty sky. Antony’s God had deserted him because of his behavior, but Isis could never desert her.

Could she?

It was an impossible thought.

“Lady, have you abandoned us?” She barely dared to whisper it.

There was no answer, only the vacant sky with its blazing light. She sensed nothing. Never in her life had she called out to the Gods in vain. Always there had been some answer, some vision or sign, even a feeling within herself, but now there was only a terrifying emptiness.

Shaken to the core, her knees gave way and she found herself kneeling on the sharp rocks. A chill ran through her. It was the truth when she told Antony there were no Gods here. They had been abandoned to face Rome and its legions alone.

***

When Cleopatra arrived home to Lochias Palace, Apollodorus was waiting in her chambers.

“I know you are tired, Queen of Heaven, but I must have a word with you.”

Cleopatra nodded and led him into her chamber. The lamps had yet to be lit and twilight shadows filled the room. Mechanically she sat down, her back straight as a sword from long habit. She motioned for the old priest to join her.

He sank into a seat opposite her and exhaled a heavy sigh.

“How has it come to this?” she asked. It was a comfort to know her grandfather saw everything in her heart without having to explain it all.

“We have not been chosen to live in easy times.”

“What are we to do, Grandfather?” She suddenly felt like the small child who once sat at his knee learning her lessons in the temple. “I look around me and I see no solutions. I feel Octavian’s army drawing closer all the time. I can raise the palace guard, but they’re no match for Roman legions and Antony….”

“Antony may yet be the means of our survival.”

She looked up surprised. “How?”

“Octavian has led his troops into Upper Egypt. It will not be long before he reaches Alexandria, but he is willing to strike a bargain with us.”

“I trust none of Octavian’s bargains.”

“Nevertheless, it’s our only chance,” replied Apollodorus soberly.

“What does he want?”

Apollodorus’s wise old eyes met her gaze. “Antony.”

Cleopatra pressed her hands before her brow, suddenly dizzy. She was not quite well yet, but taking a deep breath of the fresh sea air which filled her chamber, she steadied herself. “Antony’s head you mean?”

The High Priest nodded. “In return, you will be allowed to keep your throne and Caesarion will rule after you.”

She stood and paced nervously towards the balcony. The lighthouse at Pharos was just illuminating in the gathering darkness. “Tell Octavian we refuse.”

Her grandfather’s face grew stern though his voice remained as gentle and calm as ever. “Cleopatra, I know this is difficult, but you must think of your son.”

“Octavian’s lying!” she protested. “Can’t you feel that? Do you really believe he would allow my son,
Caesar’s
son, to sit on the throne of Egypt?”

“Of course he wouldn’t, but we’re cornered,” said the old man, his voice finally trembling with emotion. “And if this can buy us time to make a better plan, it must be done. Antony, in his present condition, might as well be dead. Do not allow your love for him to cloud your judgment.”

“Wouldn’t you?” she cried. “What if they asked for my head? To save Egypt, would you give it to them?”

Apollodorus looked as if he had been struck but he answered with firm resolution. “I would.”

They locked eyes for a moment but she turned away frustrated. Of course he was right. “You may go.”

“As you wish.” Apollodorus rose to leave, but he paused in the doorway. “Do not waste too much time. Octavian will be here before the next full moon.”

She did not look back as he closed the door quietly behind him, but stared out at the surf gently rolling into shore. The night was deepening and the pale slip of a moon rose above the waves.

She gazed up at the bright pinpricks of emerging stars. “Caesar, what would you do?” Her fists clenched into balls nearly breaking the tender skin of her palms. “May the Gods damn you for making Octavian your heir!” she called out as anger overtook her again. “Where is your spirit now? He’ll murder our son! Why don’t you stop it?”

Once again the terrifying feeling of abandonment swept over her. Caesar’s
ka
had traveled beyond the realms of this world. He would advise her no more.

She turned back into her room but the hair on the back of her neck rose and snapping her head around, she looked in the far corner of the room where the shadows were the darkest.

There stood the Jackal God, Anubis. His clever face with its luminescent eyes and canine fangs sent a shudder through her.

“I haven’t summoned you. Why are you here? Are you here to guard us or…” she swallowed. “Who have you come for?”

The Dark God hovered silently in the shadows, then faded away into nothing.

She began to tremble, backing away from the gloomy corner as realization dawned on her.

Her children
.

Why had they not yet been sent away to safety?

Gathering up her linen skirts, she ran from her chamber out into the maze of halls to find them.

Dear Gods, don’t let me be too late!

Cleopatra’s light robes billowed after her as she ran through the halls of Lochias Palace. But when she reached Caesarion’s door, she hesitated. She did not want to alarm him too much, but the thought of the jealous hatred she knew Octavian bore the true son of Caesar made her sick with fear.

She raised her hand to tap the door, but Caesarion was already opening it for her. Their gaze met in perfect understanding. It was like staring into a mirror, his green eyes were so like hers and the fear in them matched her own.

“Caesarion…” but the words died in her throat as love for her first-born son overwhelmed her and a memory flashed through her mind. A memory of a night so many years ago when she had stood alone with Caesar in the dark garden of his villa and said good bye.

Blocking out the vision, she forced her eyes to go serenely blank.

Caesarion stepped aside to allow her in. “You wish to speak to me, Mother?”

She nodded and chose a seat, folding her hands in her lap, resolving to stay calm. “Caesarion…you must know that Octavian has entered Egypt?”

“He will reach our palace in a few days.”

“Yes.” Cleopatra pressed her palms together to steady herself. “That’s why I must entrust you with a very important task. You must take your brother and sister to India, where you will all be safe––”

“And desert you?” interrupted Caesarian, his eyes wide with disbelief. “I would as soon fall upon my own sword!”

“You will not be deserting me, dearest. It’s my wish for you to go.” She bit her lip and looked down at her rings. “Besides, I have Antony’s legions to protect me.”