Had to come back to the Roman Empire. Chapter title is a Shakespeare quote, and I'm sure you'll realize which play it's from very quickly.
Warning: Adultery (well, what do you expect? It's Ancient Rome!), a swear word or two, Roman Civil War(s), slavery, death, and implied questionable consent.
Nor Custom Stale Her Infinite Variety
The first time he saw her, she was dressed as a servant and carrying a large, rolled-up rug on her shoulder.
Rome thought it was strange that such a lithe, slender woman would be strong enough to carry such a weight with no assistance, yet she faltered little as she hauled her burden through the marble halls of the Alexandrian palace. She was a beautiful sight, even dressed in worn, unflattering robes. Her skin a soft shade of brown, her black hair tied in multitudes of thin, delicate braids, and her eyes the color of the river that gave this foreign land its life.
When she noticed him watching her, she stumbled and Rome rushed forward to keep her from dropping the heavy carpet.
"My thanks, kind dominus," she said, her Latin carrying only the faintest accent.
"Any particular reason why you are carrying a massive carpet through the palace?" Rome asked, amused by the strange behavior.
The woman lowered her eyes demurely.
"I beg your pardon, noble soldier," she said. "But I was tasked by my esteemed lady to deliver this as a gift to the honorable Caesar."
"I see. And who is your lady?"
"Her divine majesty, Queen Cleopatra."
"You must be either very brave or very foolish to enter the palace of your mistress's sworn enemy. I doubt young Ptolemy would be pleased to discover his sister's servants creeping about when the two of them are so determined to kill each other."
"I am but a humble servant. My queen bid me go, and so I must, even if it means my death."
Rome looked over the carpet she still kept balanced on her shoulder. There was something very odd about this. For a servant on a potentially deadly mission, she was exceedingly calm. Something about her eyes made Rome suspect there was more to this pretty servant girl than she was letting on.
"Before I decide whether to let you meet with my general or turn you over to Ptolemy's guards," said Rome. "I would ask your name."
The woman gave him a mysterious smile, as if she had some private joke in her head that Rome was not privy to.
"I have been named many times in my life," she said. "I was 'Nefret' as a child, 'Meret' as a woman grown, and now, in my fading days, I am 'Maatkare.'"
Rome was not particularly familiar with the Egyptian language. He was a Latin-speaking Roman and regarded other languages as uncomfortably foreign. He had learned Greek out of necessity; though Greece, herself, said his pronunciation was still terrible. And that had been enough to get by in Egypt, so far. Most Egyptians spoke multiple languages, with Latin and Greek being common alongside the native tongue. However, Rome could sense there were deeper meanings to the names the woman gave him. Older than Rome, older even than Greece, perhaps older than anyone Rome knew.
Rome had always liked ancient things. He was such a new nation compared to those around him that he envied the ancient nations their histories, traditions, religions, and languages. And, as strange as these words were to him, he couldn't help but find them beautiful.
"So…" said Rome. "You say this carpet is a gift for Caesar?"
After leading the woman to the section of the palace assigned to the Roman officers, Rome brought her into the private room where Caesar was reading over his recent reports from the agents he'd sent to investigate matters in the city. In one hand, he was clutching the signet ring of Pompey.
The boy king Ptolemy, a spoiled, inbred, and bad-tempered runt, had actually believed he could win Caesar's support by murdering General Pompey. Yes, Pompey had been Caesar's fiercest rival, but Caesar had a sentimental affection for him. Pompey had once been Caesar's son-in-law, after all.
And that boy Ptolemy had cut the great Pompey's head from his shoulders and presented it to Caesar as a gift. Caesar, Rome, and every other Roman in the contingent had been horrified and outraged by the act. That such an illustrious Roman should meet his end in such a brutal fashion at the hands of foreigners who had once claimed friendship with him.
"General," Rome said as he entered the room.
"Any news on your son, Romanus?" Caesar asked without looking up.
Rome tried not to wince at that. His younger son, Tities, had been at Pompey's side throughout the civil war. Ramnes, the elder son, had been supporting Caesar. Rome had simply been trying to maintain order at home while his sons waged yet another terrible civil war against each other. In the end, Ramnes won, as he always did, and Rome had joined Caesar's cause, as well. When Pompey's army had fled, Tities had disappeared with them. Rome sent Ramnes back home to secure the city while he, himself, would join Caesar's search for Pompey in case Tities was still with him.
"No word, as yet," Rome said evenly. He then turned to beckon Maatkare forward. "General, I believe this young lady has a gift for you."
Caesar looked up and observed the Egyptian woman.
"And whom, may I ask, is the sender of this gift?" he said.
"From my lady, her divine majesty, Queen Cleopatra Philopator," Maatkare replied meekly. "I have been ordered to present this valuable gift to General Gaius Julius Caesar."
Rome could sense that there was something going through Caesar's mind as he took stock of the situation. He clearly saw the suspiciousness of it, as Rome had. He rose from his seat and took a moment to circle the enigmatic Egyptian and her cargo.
"Well, then," Caesar said. "Don't just stand there. Let me see this gift."
Maatkare grinned and gently set the carpet on the floor. She then quickly untied the cords binding it and rolled the carpet out before Caesar and Rome. While the carpet itself was a pretty piece of work, it was nothing compared to what it had been concealing. Clad in a diaphanous dress of white linen, her hair falling loose from its ribbons and spilling about her shoulders in dark curls, was a striking woman. While not remarkably beautiful in a physical sense, there was a powerful air that surrounded her even in her disheveled state.
"Queen Cleopatra, I presume?" said Caesar, a wry smile spreading across his lips as he offered her his hand to help her to her feet.
"Indeed," the woman replied, her voice rich and sultry. "And you must be the illustrious general, Gaius Julius Caesar. Such a pleasure to meet you, at last."
"What is going on?" Rome exclaimed in frustration.
"I invited the queen of Egypt to return to her home," Caesar said as mildly as if he were commenting on the weather. "Obviously, she could not enter Alexandria directly without her brother realizing, so I knew she would find some creative way of arriving undetected." He turned back to the young queen. "Though I will admit this was more brazen than I was expecting."
"The safest place for me in the palace tonight is in Caesar's chambers," Cleopatra responded in that sly tone of hers. "I have every confidence that I am in no danger with his strong arms to defend me." She glanced over to the servant girl. "Kemet, could you leave us to speak privately?"
"Certainly, my lady," the servant said.
As she turned and strode out of the room, Rome was overtaken by a keen feeling of annoyance.
"Now, wait just a moment," he shouted before turning to chase after her. He followed her down towards the gardens where he managed to grab hold of her arm. "I think you've lied to me, woman. You told me your name was 'Maatkare,' but your queen called you 'Kemet.' And she didn't dismiss you like an ordinary servant. Royals never ask their servants to leave, they order them to. Tell me the truth: Who are you?"
She turned those sparkling eyes on him and Rome had to fight to resist how nervous they made him, as if he was a young boy flirting with Greece back when she was a major power and he was just a backwater village. There was something truly ancient in those eyes, wise and powerful and not a little dangerous.
"Do you know what 'Kemet' means?" she said.
"I do not."
"It means 'Black Land.' The Nile makes the soil of the riverbanks rich and fertile to grow crops. That is why the god Osiris has skin that is black at one time and green at another. Without him creating the Black Land, this nation would not exist. The people of Mycenae had a different name. They called the land 'a-ku-pi-ti-yo,' and their descendants the Greeks changed this to 'Aígyptos.' Before them, Akkad called the land 'mi-iṣ-ru.' Whatever you name me, I am Kemet."
At last, Rome knew why such a young, delicate woman seemed so old and strong. Why her eyes were filled with terrifying wisdom. The woman before him was perhaps the oldest living being in the world. She had thousands of years behind her and likely feared nothing as she had lived to see every action the human world was capable of. Things Rome could not comprehend. It was frightening, but fascinating.
"You are Aegyptus?" he said.
"If that is what you would call me, yes. But I am the woman Maatkare as much as anything else. I am the daughter of Ta-Sheme'aw and Ta-Mehew, the Upper Kingdom in the south and Lower Kingdom in the north." She lowered her eyes and gently pulled her arm free of Rome's grip, which had loosened upon the revelation of the woman's identity. "If that is all, I have an urgent matter I must see to."
"Wait! You know I am Rome, don't you?"
"I knew that Caesar is not a man to easily trust others. But, yet, he does not bat an eye when a purported subordinate of his comes and goes as he pleases and invites strange women carrying oversized carpets into his private chambers. It was not difficult to figure out. Now, please, excuse me."
Rome, however, was not about to let her leave him like that. He was immensely curious now. It was rare to find nations who had lived over three thousand years, as she had. Even Greece was practically a child by comparison, having been born after the downfall of the Bronze Age. Greece sometimes still treated Rome as if he were no more than an overlarge infant compared with her; so how did Egypt see him?
"Where are you going?" he asked as he continued to follow the ancient nation. "Can I help you? I helped you years ago when your pharaoh needed money and troops; I can help you now."
"You could help me by keeping your silence," she said brusquely when his inquiries became a little too relentless. "I need to enter the royal wing of the palace and it does not help me to have a loud Roman soldier shouting questions."
"Why must you go there? Caesar will see your queen safely restored to her throne in due course. What is there in the royal palace that you need so badly you cannot wait a few days?"
She gave Rome a measured look.
"I have read many things about you, Rome," she said. "I have studied you extensively."
Rome puffed up a little, flattered that an ancient nation would find him interesting enough to study.
"One of the stories I heard about your people was of two brothers," she continued. "The Gracchi, I believe they were called."
"Tiberius and Gaius. They sought to redistribute public lands to the common people and reduce the power of the old families."
"They are seen as great heroes of your people. Martyrs who died for their cause."
"The memory of them is still fresh in my mind. It was only a few decades ago."
"Indeed. But it is their mother who is of more interest to me."
Rome smiled fondly at the memory of the honorable matron Cornelia. A truly noble and virtuous woman who was greatly loved by the people and especially revered by her sons. Rome still remembered an incident when some fool had dared try to insult Cornelia in the presence of her sons. Her son Gaius had asked what kind of insult could possibly be paid to someone like her, especially considering that, despite bringing several children into the world, she had had less sex with a man than the man insulting her had.
"I heard a rumor of a conversation between her and some of her female friends," Egypt continued. "They were curious why she dressed so plainly and asked what she considered her greatest jewels. Her answer to them is the same as my answer to you."
Rome thought about that for a moment. Cornelia's greatest jewels? Cornelia had disdained jewelry as frivolous and a sign of plebeian extravagance. In the instances that Rome had met the woman, she had claimed the most important thing a patrician woman could give to her nation was healthy, well-educated, and strong-willed Roman children. It was why she was so proud of Tiberius and Gaius, even though they ultimately fell at the hands of their enemies and…oh.
He followed Egypt deep into the heart of the palace. If the guards recognized her, they didn't try to stop her; if anything, it was Rome who drew the sideways looks. Egypt also seemed more concerned about the government officials spotting them. At one point, she practically flung herself into a side hall to evade being spotted by Potheinos, Ptolemy's chief regent. Rome couldn't really fault her for that one; Rome hadn't liked the eunuch's shifty little eyes when he'd met Rome and Caesar upon their arrival in Alexandria.
They eventually arrived at a moderately-sized, whitewashed residence within the palace complex. There were guards at the front gate, so Egypt led Rome down along the far side. Then, right in front of Rome's eyes, she seemed to disappear into the wall. Rome stood there, utterly bewildered for a moment, until her slender, brown hand reached out and motioned for him to follow.
These Egyptians really do know magic, Rome thought in amazement.
He proceeded to follow the beckoning hand and found himself entering a concealed niche with an old wooden door.
"What sorcery is this?" Rome asked. "Is there some sort of magical barrier concealing this entrance?"
"In a manner of speaking," Egypt said as she unlocked the door. "It's really just an optical illusion. Most magic is."
Rome followed her inside the manse, blinking at the shift in light. It was dark inside, with only a few oil lamps flickering in the gloom. The smell of incense was thick, heavy, and almost sickeningly sweet. They passed through more corridors, with walls painted in rich murals of the human-animal hybrid gods the Egyptians so favored, until they came to an enclosed courtyard overgrown with flowers, fruit trees, and shrubs. A marble-tiled pool glittered in the fading light of the day, with blue and pink lotus flowers floating merrily on the surface.
A small boy was sitting alone beside the pool, slowly moving his feet back and forth in the cool water. Egypt approached slowly, drawing back the tatty shawl she wore about her head to obscure her face. She came up to the boy very quietly before kneeling down just beside him. As soon as the boy noticed her, his eyes, green as papyrus stalks, went wide. The child flung himself at Egypt, who folded him in her arms and held him close.
"Mama!" the boy cried. "Where did you go, Mama?! I missed you!"
"I missed you, as well, Nefertem," Egypt replied.
Rome watched them silently for a while, feeling a deep longing to see his own family. His wife would probably be overseeing the kitchen slaves, right now, making sure that everything was up to her standards. Ramnes was likely still braving the sea and Neptune's unreliable mercies to get back; the boy had little stomach for sea travel and was undoubtedly halfway over the rail to spew up whatever he'd managed to get down. Luceres would still be in the Temple of Vesta, tending the sacred flames with the human priestesses she'd chosen to join; some of them even believed she actually was Vesta. Rome's grandchildren were probably playing or finishing up one of their lessons. Gods alone knew what Tities was doing right now.
That last thought saddened Rome greatly. As much as his younger son gave him so much trouble, he still loved the boy. Perhaps he hadn't given him as much attention as Ramnes over the years? It would explain why Tities always picked fights with his older brother. Tities had been very prickly and sullen since he was a child, and it hurt Rome to think that he hadn't been a good father to one of his children. Rome cared about everyone in his family, even his bastard children.
That made him think of Byzantium and Ravenna. They were both so tiny and innocent right now. It was terrifying to contemplate what they would have to go through in the future and Rome desperately wished he could be with them right now, to enjoy this brief time with them when they were still unharmed by the world.
Rome turned his attention back to the mother and son reuniting in front of him.
How painful it must have been for Egypt and her child to be kept apart by a civil war. Ptolemy and his peons had doubtless tried to use the nation child to enforce their control over the city, even if most of the Egyptian people cried out for Cleopatra's restoration. Everything was so precarious, right now. However, Rome made a solemn promise, then and there, to protect Egypt and her child.
"He will take my place, one day," Egypt said, stroking her son's short, dark hair while he slept. "I have long known my time was coming to an end. I only hope I have another century or two left to spend with my son."
"How can you know he's here to take your place?" Rome asked softly. "Perhaps he's just destined to be a city-state, like Athens or Sparta are to Greece."
"You know as well as I do that we nations know exactly what we represent. When I asked my son what he is, he answered, 'Aegyptus.'" She lowered her eyes and smiled sadly. "He is the Two Lands made One, just as I have been. Soon, I will fade away, and all that will be left of me will be ruins and him."
"You've made it this long, I'm certain you have much more left to you."
"Perhaps. When you have been around as long as I have, you start to wonder if it will ever end. And, sometimes, you wonder if you even desire to continue. You are young, Romanus. You still have so much lust for life. But I? I sometimes think I should be in a tomb in the desert somewhere, by now."
"Please, don't say things like that." Rome took her free hand and held it gently. "There is so much you can see and do. So much you have left to teach the world. Have you ever even left your lands?"
"Not for a number of centuries. The last time I left home, it was as a prisoner." She slipped her hand free from his and held a little tighter to her son. "It was when Persia came to conquer. We'd held off invaders before and I had thought we could do so, again. But Persia knew my people's greatest weakness. He beat us through such underhanded tactics. And when he'd toppled all that I had built, he dragged me before his royal court in chains."
She shuddered at the memory.
"I am a proud woman, Romanus," she continued. "I cannot stand to be humiliated and shamed. Least of all by those I consider beneath me. I would sooner die than be made to go through such an experience, again."
"You have my word of honor. I will not let anyone do that to you ever again."
He wasn't sure what prompted such a vow. Perhaps it was his immense respect for the ancient kingdom of Egypt and all that she must have endured in thousands of years of history. Perhaps it was just because he found her beautiful and intriguing that he hated the thought of her being harmed in such a way. Perhaps it was because Rome, himself, knew something of what it was like to have one's pride so brutally attacked by a foreign enemy.
Whatever it was, Rome had sworn an oath. And a Roman should always keep his word.
Rome knew he should have trusted his instincts concerning that scheming eunuch.
They'd caught Potheinos in the act of passing a message to one of his agents detailing a plot on Caesar's life and now the eunuch's head was decorating the front of the palace gates. However, he'd already managed to sign over authority of the royal army to General Achillas. Achillas was now on his way back to Alexandria with an army of twenty-thousand Egyptian infantry, two-thousand cavalry, and a sizable number of Gabiniani. That second group was of particular concern to Rome. The Gabiniani were once Roman soldiers, the remnants of the legion Rome had sent to help the previous pharaoh secure his throne. They had abandoned their ties to Rome and considered themselves properly Egyptian now, but they undoubtedly still remembered the tactics of a Roman legion.
In comparison to that, Caesar had a force of just four-thousand men and a few mercenaries Cleopatra brought with her from Syria.
"I cannot help but feel we underestimated our enemies," Rome said as he sat hunched over a table, looking over maps of the city.
"I did warn you that the risk was great," Egypt replied.
She had, indeed. About a week ago, when Cleopatra's presence was discovered in the palace. They had no choice but to make their next move when that little idiot Ptolemy drove the people of Alexandria into a riot. Egypt had told them that revealing what they knew about the previous pharaoh's will needed to be handled carefully and that they could not let any of the rats in the royal court slip away.
In the end, though, the intensity of the riot left them with no choice and Caesar had to use his masterful oratorical skills to soothe the crowd's anger. He then announced the truth to all of Alexandria. That Ptolemy Auletes had decreed in his final will and testament – which Caesar had obtained after seizing Pompey's personal assets in Rome – that the throne of Egypt would be shared jointly by his daughter and son, though there was clear provision in the will for Cleopatra to have the final say in matters of state.
Ptolemy Auletes may have been an inbred, flute-playing drunkard, but even he had known that Cleopatra was more reliable as an heir than his spoiled, stupid son.
There had been further attempts to assuage the different factions. Cleopatra and her brother had been made to renew their marriage – something which Rome still found immensely disgusting, even if it was just ceremonial. Caesar had even announced that the other two royal siblings, a twelve-year-old brother to the king and queen, also named Ptolemy, and a teenaged sister, Princess Arsinoë, would likewise be given joint rule over the island of Cyprus.
Rome was uncertain of that second condition. The Egyptians were pleased to have the island back after Rome's people had seized it, but he didn't trust the princess any more than he had trusted Potheinos. The younger Ptolemy was just a clueless child, but Arsinoë clearly had the same ambitious streak as her older sister – albeit without the charm to back it up.
"They will take the city, there is no doubt," Egypt said, breaking the uncomfortable silence which poisoned the air with its acrid tension. "But if we can make covert attacks on the key naval positions, we should be able to halt their control of the harbor. Especially if we take the lighthouse."
Pharos Lighthouse, one of the great wonders of the world, was essential to controlling the harbors and ports of Alexandria. Its eternal beacon was vital to trade and a major source of pride for the Egyptians. It may have been birthed in the minds of Greeks and Macedonians, but it was Egyptian hands which built it as they built the many great temples and tombs that dotted the landscape.
"Hmm, after this is over," Rome said, "you must take me to see the top of the lighthouse."
"I will take you anywhere you desire," she answered him with a sly smile. "If we live through this."
"You're not much of one for optimism, are you, Maatkare?"
"I have found it is best not to get one's hopes too high. That way, you can be surprised if things actually turn out well and not be disappointed when they don't. That's what Helen taught me."
Rome blinked as he registered the name.
"Ah, that's right. You and Greece know each other."
"We are old friends," said Egypt.
"I'll take you to see her again, someday. I expect it's been a long time since you last met."
"We have not spoken since she became your 'province.'"
There was something suggestive in the way she said the word 'province.' Perhaps Rome had not been as discreet as he'd hoped. Greece, herself, had not been especially enthusiastic about literally getting into bed with Rome; in fact, after all the violent revolts against Roman authority which Rome had to suppress, Greece was very frail due to the damage done to her economy and political power. He hoped Egypt wouldn't notice when he brought her to visit his home.
If they ever had the chance to. Returning home was looking less and less like a feasible outcome. Rome could only hope things didn't get any worse.
It was at that precise moment that a breathless messenger rushed in to announce that Princess Arsinoë had escaped from the palace.
"Your queen's sister is a right little cunt, you know," Rome said as he set aside his pickaxe after a long day of digging new cisterns and wells. The new self-proclaimed queen had had her troops divert seawater into the palace water supply.
"Berenice was just as bad," said Egypt. "And she wasn't even half as intelligent as Arsinoë."
"At least we can be thankful that Arsinoë isn't half as intelligent as Queen Cleopatra."
If the younger girl had half the brains her sister did, she wouldn't have had General Achillas murdered and replaced him with her eunuch Ganymedes. Rome had no idea why these eastern royals liked eunuchs so much. They always gave them far too much power. Still, he would look forward to putting this other eunuch's head up on the wall right where Potheinos's had hung until it rotted away.
"I apologize if I've been short with you, recently," said Rome. "I do not handle being confined to one place well. Especially for so many months."
"I am not entirely guiltless, either," Egypt replied bashfully. "I did say some dreadful things to you the other day."
In fairness to Egypt, the argument they had had was about the damage caused to the Library of Alexandria. Caesar and his men had launched attacks on the harbor and several ships caught fire; the fire then spread to the docks, then into the city, and then into a major annex of the famous Library. Countless great works of literature had been reduced to ashes, their contents forever lost to history. Egypt had been, understandably, distraught.
"Let us simply say it has been a very unlucky time," said Rome. "I know the Library is important to you. And, I know I cannot replace all the works that were destroyed, but I promise I will see to it that your Library is restored and replenished. It might not be as it once was, but it will still be there."
She gave him a grateful little smile.
"And since we have been cooped up in here for so long," she added. "I promise to take you on a cruise up the Nile when all this is over. No cares, no responsibilities, no wars."
"That sounds like paradise. Will there be wine?"
"Of course."
Egypt had warned that exchanging Ptolemy for Arsinoë was a terrible idea.
Although Arsinoë was far more intelligent than her brother, it was clear that she had lost her hold on the Egyptian army considering her own officers were willing to parley with Caesar to sell her out. From what Rome had heard, she'd made more than a few of her now-former supporters very annoyed, especially with how she let Ganymedes run everything. Military men did not take well to being ordered about by women and eunuchs.
In the end, the trade accomplished little. Arsinoë was in their custody, but now Ptolemy was mustering all his strength against them. At least Ganymedes had also been taken and his head had swiftly taken the spot where Potheinos's had been, just as Rome promised.
Rome spared a glance at Egypt, who was saying her goodbyes to her son. Perhaps her final goodbyes, as well. When a nation had a child, it was known to indicate that their own life was in a precarious position, as that child could take their place. Rome had two grown sons, himself; if he died in this battle, the empire would split into two – and that wasn't taking into account his bastard children, grandchildren, clients, and wards, who would all want to retain their own autonomy. Egypt's son was still just a child and would be easy prey for another nation should his mother die.
"Mama, you will come home safely, right?" the child asked.
"I will try, my love."
"Please, Mama. You don't have to go!"
"I'm sorry, Nefertem. But, as a nation, I have a duty to be there to fight for my people."
Left unsaid was the fact that she would also be fighting her people. Civil war was an ugly thing and many nations could not deal with it as easily as others. In Egypt's case, one could even argue that she was betraying her people by fighting alongside foreign soldiers against her own blood. There were times that the lines became blurred when choosing which side was right for a nation to support. The fact that Egypt was with them and not Ptolemy spoke volumes about how much trust she had in Cleopatra as her queen and in Rome and Caesar as allies.
She gave her son one last hug before pulling away from his arms.
Her battle gear was very simple. She wore a plain white tunic beneath layered linen armor, modeled after the Greek linothorax. She also had a bronze helmet, a spear, and a long shield. For a woman who professed a love of glamor, she looked for all the world like any common foot soldier. It honestly was not what Rome would have expected Egypt to wear, and yet she seemed well-suited to it.
"Well, we had best be going," she said to Rome with an air of clearly false confidence. "I have not been this excited since the Battle of Megiddo."
It would be a brutal push, and they had to leave a garrison behind to protect the queen, but they needed to make it out of the city. Caesar had said one of his allies had gotten a message through, promising to meet him and join forces to break the siege if Caesar could escape the beleaguered city.
"Turtle formation!" Caesar called out to the men as they readied themselves to enter the chaos outside.
Rome and Egypt found themselves swept inside a thick cluster of troops, pressed close into what soon became a tent of shields, with spears jutting out to clear the path. The heat was almost unbearable, especially considering it was the middle of winter. Rome had gotten far too accustomed to the colder climes of Gaul and Germania after his years of war with them; he'd forgotten how miserable the heat of a massive group of bodies can become when forced to be so close.
The march felt as if it would last forever. In addition to the heat and the stink of his unwashed comrades, he had to mind his steps on the badly-maintained Alexandrian streets so as not to trip over loose stones and garbage and whatever it was that was seeping through his sandals. Rome also sensed they were facing some strong resistance at the front of the column with the way they would stop suddenly and how the 'turtle' would shudder from the impact. The noise around him was becoming deafening and it was getting hard to breathe. Each new step felt like it took an hour, a day, a week at times.
From within the reddish-black gloom, Rome could faintly see Egypt beside him. She was gritting her teeth in a pained grimace and her brow was furrowed in concentration, as though she, too, felt the agonizing labor of moving forward, forward, forward despite the urge to panic, break from the formation, and run back to the palace. Not that Rome would ever admit that he had felt such an urge, himself.
Cowardice was worse than death in the eyes of the Roman people. To some Romans, it even merited death as a punishment. Pompey and Crassus had once made that point very clear to their soldiers. Rome tried not to picture the terrified faces of the men chosen by lot to die – one man in every ten, beaten to death by their own friends to pay in blood for the failings of the entire legion.
Rome felt bile in his mouth and forced it back down.
It must have been at least a whole day of marching to escape from the city, as when Rome next breathed the fresh air and looked up at the sky it was darkest night. Even the moon and stars were hiding from view in a rare bit of cloud cover. Rome and Egypt both spoke to each other longingly of baths as they helped set up the camp. As the hours ticked by, however, Rome began to miss the warmth of the turtle formation. Night in the Egyptian desert was strangely cold and he was covered in sweat which soon chilled him to the bone.
They had not been able to bring any tents with them, only what they could carry in their packs. Rome and Egypt huddled side-by-side in front of one of the campfires as the rations were distributed.
"Well, we made it this far," Egypt said. "Perhaps we will live to see another sunrise."
"As optimistic as ever, I see," Rome said with a wry grin. "One might almost think you're eager to see the Underworld."
"The Underworld holds no true terror, Romanus. Not to those who are brave enough."
"It always seemed painfully straightforward to me. You die, you go into the dark abyss, and you end up forgetting everything you ever were."
"You sound like you've been listening to Helen. As much as I admire her, I find her take on death to be extremely depressing. As if she expects death to make her not exist except as some vague, nebulous consciousness."
"Do you have a different opinion, then?"
"Of course! Death is not an end to life, but merely a continuation of it. To those who are virtuous, who hold proper reverence for the gods, and who show due kindness and charity to those less fortunate than themselves, Osiris will welcome them into the next life as his people. Provided a soul is brave enough to make the journey to reach the Hall of Judgement."
"So, for you, death is just one big adventure?"
"The greatest adventure. A pursuit of eternal life. It is why my people and I consider life so precious. Whether a person is one hundred years old or still a child in the womb, whether he or she is the hungriest peasant or the wealthiest pharaoh, every living thing was crafted by Khnum on his potter's wheel, given a soul by Ptah, and bestowed a destiny by Hathor. Likewise, all will be resurrected from the darkness by Isis and Osiris. Only the wicked have a reason to fear death."
Rome was not sure what to say to that. He had initially taken Egypt for a very grim soul – a cheerful and sociable one, but still a person obsessed with the morbid subject of death. However, listening to her speak about the Underworld in such glowing tones as a place of eternal joy and adventure rather than a dull blank space devoid of all the happiness of life, it struck a chord inside him. And the way she spoke of her gods in such loving tones, as though the gods were not cruel and petty and tyrannical, was so utterly foreign to him. He would never admit it aloud for fear of sounding un-Roman, but he actually hoped her version of death was the true one.
"…And if we manage to make it out of this alive, we will have much and more to celebrate," Egypt said, drawing Rome out of his reverie.
"I suppose we will," said Rome. "Your queen will be secure on her throne, Caesar will be able to claim another great victory, and you and I will be able to get better acquainted."
"Well, yes, there is that. But I was speaking of the more personal matter at hand."
Rome furrowed his brow in confusion.
"What do you mean?" he said.
"Oh, do not play coy, Romanus. You know perfectly well of what I speak."
"I am afraid I am quite lost."
"You mean you do not know?" Egypt said in surprise. "Caesar has not told you?"
"Told me what?"
"He has not told you that Queen Cleopatra is carrying his child?"
Pergamon was the same as Rome remembered the last time they met.
It was strange, though, how warmly the young kingdom greeted him, considering their last encounter involved Rome stomping him into the ground after King Mithridates VI stupidly decided to pick a fight with him a couple decades ago. It seemed Pergamon had learned his lesson that it was better to be Rome's friend than his enemy.
And the boy was still young, basically a teenager by nation standards, so it was natural for him to have made some initial mistakes.
He just wished the boy would stop taking up so much of Egypt's attention. Being young and handsome was enough to commend him to many a lady, but he also had a sharp mind to match his looks. And when Egypt mentioned the recent damage to her beloved library, Pergamon generously offered to donate some of the works from his own collection – a noble gesture, indeed, as his library was second only to Egypt's.
"…You need have no worries, dear Aígyptos," Pergamon said with the typical smugness of a nation who had spent too much time with Athens. "Now that we are here, we will soon dispose of these arrogant rebels. Is that not so, Yehudit?" he added, turning to the nation who had accompanied him to the Roman camp.
Judea was far more serious than the arrogant youth beside her. Even concealed behind her veil, it was possible to see the immense bitterness in her eyes, especially when she looked at Egypt.
"My men will end this as swiftly as possible," she said evenly. "You will pardon us if we do not linger after we are finished."
Rome could not remember exactly why it was that Judea hated Egypt, but she had made it plain from the first that she was only present because King Antipater had ordered her to be there. Still, whatever her animus, her and Pergamon's participation in the war was a welcome relief to Rome's exhausted legions.
"We are truly thankful to you both," said Rome. "Preparations are already under way."
"You may as well just leave this to us, Romanus," Pergamon said, puffing up and smiling in that haughty way that made Rome dearly want to punch him. "We already plowed through the boy king's forces when they tried to stop us from getting here. This will be no different."
Pergamon was not exactly wrong, yet very far from right.
The fighting was brutal and the Egyptian army simply would not move from their position on the hill no matter how Caesar's legions hammered away at them. Ptolemy's forces followed up their defense by launching projectile attacks from the ships. It would have been total slaughter, but, as if by a miracle, a gap opened up in the line and Caesar led the legions through to begin an assault from the rear.
The Egyptian force crumbled in an instant and were sent running.
Egypt, herself, was drenched head-to-toe in blood and soot and filth, but still looked as lovely as ever in Rome's eyes. He knew she must be in pain; not from any wounds, but from having to kill her own people. Civil wars were horrible things and there was no honor in killing your countrymen. It was why Roman generals could never have a triumphal procession if their victories were against fellow Romans.
"We-we d-did it," Egypt said, leaning against Rome for support. "We're a-alive."
The sky above them was blotted out with smoke and all around them was illuminated by the glow of the enflamed fort and smoldering ships. Rome led Egypt to what looked to be the base of a broken column and helped her to sit. Together, they watched as Caesar's army finished off their opponents and began rounding up the leaders. All that really mattered now was that they found Ptolemy.
"W-wait," said Egypt, peering out at the wreckage of the fleet as red and orange light danced across the waters. "What's t-that?"
Rome trained his gaze to a spot on the river where one of the ships was still afloat but beginning to capsize. A thin figure in armor that glinted with gold jumped from the prow in a clear attempt to swim to shore, only to sink like a stone.
Egypt began coughing up blood.
Rome honestly could not remember the last time he had felt so content.
Gold and purple silks swayed overhead, shielding them from the sun as the ship made its way up the Nile. A fresh breeze filtered through the draperies, carrying the hearty scents of rich, fertile earth. Along the banks, peasant farmers smiled and waved and shouted praise for their beloved queen and her Roman allies. Their voices mingled with the splashing of the oars in the water, the sounds of the Egyptian queen talking with Caesar about Greek literature, and the sweet tones of the blind harpist performing for the royal entourage.
"So seize the day! hold holiday!
Be unwearied, unceasing, alive
you and your own true love;
Let not the heart be troubled during your
sojourn on Earth,
but seize the day as it passes!"
Rome leaned back against the soft pillows piled up behind him on his gilded couch. Slaves came by frequently to offer him food and wine, another slave was gently waving an ostrich feather fan behind him to keep away the heat.
Egypt was seated across from him on the couch, far closer and in a more casual position than modesty would allow in Roman society. Roman society would also have been shocked and mortified by her diaphanous gown and vibrant jewels and makeup. But, of course, this wasn't Roman society. This was the east, with all its oriental luxuriousness and wicked decadence.
For a moment, Rome tried to remember what exactly it was about such a lifestyle that his stuffy older generation disdained and cautioned against, but it wouldn't come to him. Not when he had delicious food, potent drink, exotic sights, soothing sounds, and a beautiful woman all at his fingertips. The last point, most of all, was becoming more and more important to him. He could sincerely say he enjoyed Egypt's company; her smile, her laughter, her witty mind, her ancient knowledge, and, well, her exceptional beauty.
Truthfully, Egypt was the type of woman a man could lose his heart to. She was a woman it was hard to not fall in love with. Beauty may win attraction, but she commanded adoration.
Much the same as her queen. Cleopatra might not be as beautiful as her nation, nor indeed half so physically beautiful as many other women, but there was something enchanting about her. Well-spoken, elegant, and full of confidence, she was self-assured without being arrogant and exerted her strength by pretending to be weak. It was plain to see she had Caesar hooked, just as Egypt was ensnaring Rome, himself.
"I hope you will remain with us for a long time," Egypt said, pressing a fresh goblet of wine into his hands. "It has been centuries since I have had such pleasant company. There are few nations with whom I feel I can speak so easily as I do with you, Romanus."
"I wish I could stay. But duty requires me to attend to other matters for the sake of my people."
He would have at least a kiss from her before he left. Rome was certain she would take him into her bed if he asked, but he had no intention of begging for her attentions. It would make him seem less of a man, especially to her. He would not resort to pity. Pity was the death of desire.
Those eyes of hers, though. They stared deeply, as if they could see into the very heart of him.
"Surely there is nothing so pressing that it must draw you away from my side," she said in that soft, sultry tone.
"There are troubling reports," Rome said, his daydream fracturing as he recalled the news he and Caesar had received the day before. "Word of Pontus seeking to challenge our authority in Asia. Military uprisings amongst legions to the west. The Senate has been stirring up more trouble for Caesar back home. And…and word of my son."
Tities had been spotted off the coast of Sicily. It hadn't surprised Rome, really. Tities had long had support from the rebellious southern regions of Italy. The way Magna Graecia stood up for him, it made Rome wonder if she'd actually married Tities rather than Ramnes. And thoughts of his son inevitably brought to mind the face of his wife and how absolutely furious she would be if he continued to delay bringing home their child in order to continue his canoodling with an alluring foreigner.
"Then let us make good use of the time we have together," said alluring foreigner told him, moving to lie close beside him.
All thoughts of Sabine and her temper dissipated when Egypt wrapped her arms around him and leaned in to kiss him.
Author's Note: Yeah I keep coming back to Rome because he's just so interesting to write and I know more about Rome, Ancient Greece, and Ancient Egypt than I do about most other areas of history.
I was originally going to write the entire Cleopatra saga through ancient Rome's and ancient Egypt's eyes in this one chapter, but it took so long just to get through the Egyptian civil war that I have decided to split it up. So, expect a continuation of this in the future.
Ancient Egypt is so interesting when you really think about it. People try to lump all of Egyptian history together, but it's actually really diverse. Think about this fact for a moment: The pyramids of Giza were older to Cleopatra than Cleopatra is to us.
The three names Egypt has are real Egyptian names. Nefret means "beautiful," Meret means "beloved," and Maatkare is a name which was used by several royal ladies, including Pharaoh Hatshepsut, and means something along the lines of "truth of Ra" (Ma'at means "truth," and re refers to the sun god Ra). The use of three names is also an allusion to Ra, who has three names to represent each of his three phases in the solar cycle (morning, day, and evening), as well as a secret name which is only known to Ra and to the goddess Isis.
I mentioned in an earlier chapter that Rome's younger son, the tribe of Tities, vanished at some point. Well, it occurred to me much later that Tities could represent the losing side of each of Rome's civil wars before the imperium of Augustus. This could represent the shifting identities of Ramnes and Tities from Roman tribes into political factions and underline a personal sibling rivalry between the brothers as people. Therefore, Tities has been the troublesome middle child for centuries and finally ends up vanishing after the defeat of Caesar's assassins by the Triumvirate because he is too tired to keep fighting his brother.
(*Spoiler for future chapter) This means that, when the civil war between Augustus and Antony breaks out, it is Ramnes and Rome, himself, who are left to fight each other. Ramnes doesn't even perceive this as a civil war so much as rescuing his father from the wiles of a foreign temptress. Rome, in this situation, is following Antony's lead and thinking with the head between his legs rather than the one on his neck.
The story of Cornelia referring to her sons as her most precious jewels is actually from a later account, written during the reign of Emperor Tiberius, but I figure it may well have been a common enough image of Cornelia that it could be known in Caesar's time.
I decided modern Egypt's ancient name is "Nefertem." It was the name of a god of healing and beauty, the son of Sekhmet (the war goddess) and Ptah (the god of crafts and creation). Also (something I have decided that didn't come up in this chapter), Alexander the Pretty Cool later decided to name the boy after himself when Egypt asked him to give the child a Greek name to go with his Egyptian one – because, you know, Alexander had a habit of naming just about everything after himself.
We often think of Cleopatra as the "most beautiful woman in the world" when, in fact, most accounts describe her as not being particularly beautiful in the classical sense. Add to that how inbred she was, she would not have really lucked out in the looks department (not so much a Daenerys Targaryen as a Charles Hapsburg). But the sources do agree that she had a lovely voice, a sharp wit, a keen mind, and a skill for charming just about everyone she met…as well as a knack for poisons.
The song the harpist sings is part of a real ancient Egyptian song, known as "The Harper's Song for Inherkhawy."