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Authors: Colleen McCullough
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but why?
“No, Lord High Chamberlain, you may not see it,” he said coldly. “In it, Ptolemy XII known as Auletes says that his will was not lodged either in Alexandria or Rome due to—er—'embarrassments of the state.' Since our civil war was far in the future when this document was drawn up, Auletes must have meant events here in Alexandria.” He straightened, face setting hard. “It is high time that Alexandria settled down, and that its rulers were more generous toward the lowly. I do not intend to depart this city until some consistent, humane conditions have been established for all its people, rather than its Macedonian citizens. I will not countenance festering sores of resistance to Rome in my wake, or permit any country to offer itself as a nucleus of further resistance to Rome. Accept the fact, gentlemen, that Caesar Dictator will remain in Alexandria to sort out its affairs—lance the boil, you might say. Therefore I sincerely hope that you have sent that courier to Queen Cleopatra, and that we see her here within a very few days.”
And that, he thought, is as close as I go to conveying the message that Caesar Dictator will not go away to leave Alexandria as a base for Republicans to use. They must all be shepherded to Africa Province, where I can stamp on them collectively.
He rose to his feet. “You are dismissed.”
They went, faces scowling.
• • •
“Did you send a courier to Cleopatra?” Ganymedes asked the Lord High Chamberlain as they emerged into the rose garden.
“I sent two,” said Potheinus, smiling, “but on a very slow boat. I also sent a third—on a very fast punt—to General Achillas, of course. When the two slow couriers emerge from the Delta at the Pelusiac mouth, Achillas will have men waiting. I am very much afraid”—he sighed—“that Cleopatra will receive no message from Caesar. Eventually he will turn on her, deeming her too arrogant to submit to Roman arbitration.”
“She has her spies in the palace,” Ganymedes said, eyes on the dwindling forms of Theodotus and the little king, hurrying ahead. “She'll try to reach Caesar—it's in her interests.”
“I am aware of that. But Captain Agathacles and his men are policing every inch of the wall and every wavelet on either side of Cape Lochias. She won't get through my net.” Potheinus stopped to face the other eunuch, equally tall, equally handsome. “I take it, Ganymedes, that you would prefer Arsinoë as queen?”
“There are many who would prefer Arsinoë as queen,” said Ganymedes, unruffled. “Arsinoë herself, for example. And her brother the King. Cleopatra is tainted with Egypt, she's poison.”
“Then,” said Potheinus, beginning to walk again, “I think it behooves both of us to work to that end. You can't have my job, but if your own chargeling occupies the throne, that won't really inconvenience you too much, will it?”
“No,” said Ganymedes, smiling. “What is Caesar up to?”
“Up to?”
“He's up to something, I feel it in my bones. There's a lot of activity at the cavalry camp, and I confess I'm surprised that he hasn't begun to fortify his infantry camp in Rhakotis with anything like his reputed thoroughness.”
“What annoys me is his high-handedness!” Potheinus snapped tartly. “By the time he's finished fortifying his cavalry camp, there won't be a stone left in the old city walls.”
“Why,” asked Ganymedes, “do I think all this is a blind?”
• • •
The next day Caesar sent for Potheinus, no one else. “I've a matter to broach with you on behalf of an old friend,” Caesar said, manner relaxed and expansive.
“Indeed?”
“Perhaps you remember Gaius Rabirius Postumus?” Potheinus frowned. “Rabirius Postumus . . . Perhaps vaguely.”
“He arrived in Alexandria after the late Auletes had been put back on his throne. His purpose was to collect some forty million sesterces Auletes owed a
“No, Lord High Chamberlain, you may not see it,” he said coldly. “In it, Ptolemy XII known as Auletes says that his will was not lodged either in Alexandria or Rome due to—er—'embarrassments of the state.' Since our civil war was far in the future when this document was drawn up, Auletes must have meant events here in Alexandria.” He straightened, face setting hard. “It is high time that Alexandria settled down, and that its rulers were more generous toward the lowly. I do not intend to depart this city until some consistent, humane conditions have been established for all its people, rather than its Macedonian citizens. I will not countenance festering sores of resistance to Rome in my wake, or permit any country to offer itself as a nucleus of further resistance to Rome. Accept the fact, gentlemen, that Caesar Dictator will remain in Alexandria to sort out its affairs—lance the boil, you might say. Therefore I sincerely hope that you have sent that courier to Queen Cleopatra, and that we see her here within a very few days.”
And that, he thought, is as close as I go to conveying the message that Caesar Dictator will not go away to leave Alexandria as a base for Republicans to use. They must all be shepherded to Africa Province, where I can stamp on them collectively.
He rose to his feet. “You are dismissed.”
They went, faces scowling.
• • •
“Did you send a courier to Cleopatra?” Ganymedes asked the Lord High Chamberlain as they emerged into the rose garden.
“I sent two,” said Potheinus, smiling, “but on a very slow boat. I also sent a third—on a very fast punt—to General Achillas, of course. When the two slow couriers emerge from the Delta at the Pelusiac mouth, Achillas will have men waiting. I am very much afraid”—he sighed—“that Cleopatra will receive no message from Caesar. Eventually he will turn on her, deeming her too arrogant to submit to Roman arbitration.”
“She has her spies in the palace,” Ganymedes said, eyes on the dwindling forms of Theodotus and the little king, hurrying ahead. “She'll try to reach Caesar—it's in her interests.”
“I am aware of that. But Captain Agathacles and his men are policing every inch of the wall and every wavelet on either side of Cape Lochias. She won't get through my net.” Potheinus stopped to face the other eunuch, equally tall, equally handsome. “I take it, Ganymedes, that you would prefer Arsinoë as queen?”
“There are many who would prefer Arsinoë as queen,” said Ganymedes, unruffled. “Arsinoë herself, for example. And her brother the King. Cleopatra is tainted with Egypt, she's poison.”
“Then,” said Potheinus, beginning to walk again, “I think it behooves both of us to work to that end. You can't have my job, but if your own chargeling occupies the throne, that won't really inconvenience you too much, will it?”
“No,” said Ganymedes, smiling. “What is Caesar up to?”
“Up to?”
“He's up to something, I feel it in my bones. There's a lot of activity at the cavalry camp, and I confess I'm surprised that he hasn't begun to fortify his infantry camp in Rhakotis with anything like his reputed thoroughness.”
“What annoys me is his high-handedness!” Potheinus snapped tartly. “By the time he's finished fortifying his cavalry camp, there won't be a stone left in the old city walls.”
“Why,” asked Ganymedes, “do I think all this is a blind?”
• • •
The next day Caesar sent for Potheinus, no one else. “I've a matter to broach with you on behalf of an old friend,” Caesar said, manner relaxed and expansive.
“Indeed?”
“Perhaps you remember Gaius Rabirius Postumus?” Potheinus frowned. “Rabirius Postumus . . . Perhaps vaguely.”
“He arrived in Alexandria after the late Auletes had been put back on his throne. His purpose was to collect some forty million sesterces Auletes owed a
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