Chapter 1 – The Circle of Ma'at
Alexandria, Egypt 48 BC
Pothinus stood just outside the palace gates, listening, watching. Even from here, he could hear the sound of an army disembarking at the docks. No need for a messenger to bring news; Pothinus knew what it meant. Julius Caesar and his legions had arrived in Alexandria, purportedly searching for Pompey Magnus, who had fled Rome ahead of Julius Caesar's march on the Roman capital. Pothinus sighed, and walked back inside the gates. He needed to inform the young King Ptolemy XIII of Caesar's imminent arrival.
Down at the docks, solders lined up in two columns, creating a secure pathway through the crowd. Julius Caesar strode confidently towards the palace, followed closely by his slave and advisor Posca, First File Centurion Lucius Vorenus, and an honor guard. As the entourage passed, the solders holding the crowd back neatly turned, and fell in to march behind, showcasing their discipline.
At the palace entrance, a slave silently bowed and ushered in Caesar and his men – who never slowed their pace – straight to the throne room. The throne room was obscured with clouds of incense as a pair of priests loudly chanted their prayers. Pothinus had positioned himself between the priests facing the entourage, effectively blocking direct access to Ptolemy XIII.
"Behold Ptolemy, he of the two ladies, he of sedge and bee. Behold Ptolemy, son of Ra, Ptolemy the Divine," intoned Pothinus.
Through the smoke, Lucius Vorenus could make out a fat, squirming fourteen year old boy sitting on the throne, clearly bored with the ceremony. Vorenus disapproved of his behavior. Fourteen was old enough for anyone to understand proper decorum, especially a king and living God on Earth.
"How long may we hope for the blessing of your presence?" asked Pothinus.
"Not long," replied Julius Caesar.
"Oh, we are desolated," Pothinus said in a disingenuous tone. "If His Glorious Honor cares to divulge his purpose here, the servants of the Mighty Lion would be ecstatic to help you in any way whatsoever."
"That is most kind of you." Caesar paused for a moment. "How goes your preparation for war?"
"War?" asked a surprised Pothinus. "We have no war prepared."
"I'm misinformed then. I was told the sister of the Mighty Lion disputes his right to the throne."
"Do not speak of her," demanded Ptolemy. "I piss on her! I shit on her!"
"It is true," said Pothinus, "our beloved princess has listened to ill counsel and raised some absurd claim. But… she has no support, none but traitors and barbarians."
Caesar turned aside to his aid, and spoke in a low voice, "What was that name?"
"Deilogos of Pergamum," replied Posca. "He can raise ten legions."
"Deilogos of Pergamum can raise ten legions for her," said Caesar to Pothinus.
"A petty bandit. I assure you, you will have no problem, no fears at all about Cleopatra," Pothinus said dismissively.
"Where is she?" asked Caesar.
"Ah, well, nobody knows. Somewhere in the south we believe."
"He lies," whispered Posca. "They have her."
"This dispute between you both must end," declared Caesar. "Rome desires Egypt to be at peace. Your grain ships must keep sailing."
General Achillas spoke up for the first time. "We are in absolute control of the country, from the lighthouse to the Cataracts."
"Good," said Caesar. "In that case, you should have no trouble in handing over Pompey Magnus."
The Egyptians stirred ever so slightly. An enormously fat man entered the room bearing a large clay jar.
"We have a gift for you, Glorious Excellency, with which we think you will be very happy," said Pothinus obsequiously.
The fat man carefully set the jar down, removed the lid, gently removed the object within, and placed it in a platter. Picking up the now empty jar, the fat man quietly left, leaving Julius Caesar to stare at the head of Pompey Magnus.
There was dead silence in the room. Finally, Caesar spoke. "Shame on the House of Ptolemies for such barbarity. Shame."
Pothinus stood up in surprise. "But… you are enemies."
Julius Caesar jumped to his feet shouting, angry, "He was a Consul of Rome!"
Guards on both sides of the room reached for their swords, ready to draw.
"A Consul of Rome," Caesar repeated, calmer this time. The guards relaxed slightly, but stayed alert.
"To die in this sordid way – quartered like some low thief – shame!" Caesar paused, and sat back down. "Where is the rest of him?"
"Oh, I assure you, he was cremated with full honors. All the proper decorum was followed," said Pothinus, backpedaling, hoping something could be salvaged from his ghastly misjudgment.
A lie, thought Caesar, but no matter. This works to my advantage.
"Enemy or not, the death of a Consul of Rome is a most serious matter. There are two things I require. First, I want the person who committed this crime in front of me tomorrow. Second, there are certain debts to Rome that can no longer be ignored. They must now be repaid. Posca?"
Posca stepped forward and produced a scroll. "This documents the debts incurred by the late King Ptolemy XII during his reign. In total, the amount comes to seventeen thousand thousand Dracma." Posca bowed, presenting the scroll.
Pothinus paled in disbelief. "That is impossible! There simply isn't that much coin in the country."
"Nevertheless, it is the amount owed," said Posca.
"Owed or not, we simply cannot raise that in a short time. Perhaps we could work something out…" said Pothinus. Damn Cleopatra for splitting the country! If it weren't for her, I could have this arrogant Roman and his entire legion killed.
"Oh, but you must raise it, and quickly." Caesar paused, letting Pothinus sweat a little longer. "I would be willing to accept payment in kind, in addition to coin. Perhaps some of the great houses can contribute articles of value?"
So that's it, thought Pothinus. The man hopes to plunder Alexandria without risking a single man in his army. Or worse, ally himself with Cleopatra and the legions willing to rally to her cause. We can no longer afford to keep her captive; she must be killed immediately.
"If I might make a suggestion," spoke Theodotus. Officially, Theodotus was tutor to Ptolemy XIII; in fact, he held great power due to his influence, second only to Pothinus and Achillas. "We could arrange for a demonstration of the Circle of Ma'at."
"The Circle of Ma'at?" said Caesar, curious. He glanced over to Posca, who gave a slight shake of his head. He had not heard of it either.
"Yes," said Pothinus, seizing the moment. "It is a thing of great antiquity, value and power. The priests will not be happy about its loss, but the Circle by itself is more than enough to meet the debt you demand."
"Very well. I will attend this demonstration. As for its price, that will depend on whether we find it to be of value." Caesar enjoyed the look on Pothinus' face. "Until tomorrow."
With that, Caesar turned and swept out of the room. Posca wrapped part of his toga around the head of Pompey Magnus, scooped it up and hurried after his master.
Away from the palace, Caesar convened a meeting with his advisors. Caesar turned to Posca. "So you know nothing about this Circle of Ma'at?"
"About a circle, no," said Posca. "Ma'at, however, is another matter."
"Go on."
"Ma'at is the Egyptian Goddess who brings order out of chaos. She represents harmony, balance, truth, order, justice, morality and is a judge of souls entering the afterlife. She regulates the stars in the sky, and the cycle of the seasons. Ma'at is said to bind all things together."
"A busy woman," commented Mark Antony. A few men laughed, but it quickly stopped when Caesar didn't crack a smile.
"So this circle must represent order out of chaos," said Lucius Vorenus.
"That would be my guess," replied Posca.
"Enough about that," said Caesar. "We will find out more tomorrow.
"We know Cleopatra is being held captive somewhere south of the city. She is a problem for Ptolemy, and after today they are likely to eliminate that problem. Lucius Vorenus, you are to take Titus Pullo with you south in search of Cleopatra. Find her, rescue her, and bring her back here. Do it quietly. If she is discovered with you, you will be set upon by more men than even you and the great Titus Pullo can defeat."
"Sir!" said Vorenus, snapping out a salute. He turned smartly, and set off to find Titus Pullo.
"And now, it is our sad duty to hold a proper Roman funeral for what remains of Pompey Magnus. Mark Antony, organize the men to build a pyre. I must say prayers now."