Cleopatra Confesses (15 page)

“The grand vizier has been coming to visit my mother, taking advantage of the king’s absence. She loathes him. If the king learns of his attentions to Lady Amandaris, Antiochus will no doubt find himself at the bottom of the sea.”

“No one would miss him,” I tell her, but I do wonder:
Why Father would be so angry? Why would he care if his grand vizier calls on the woman in charge of the dancers?

On the following afternoon Charmion is waiting for me in the harem, and she seems very agitated. “Have you heard? Queen Tryphaena and Titus have disappeared!” she whispers. “Queen Berenike has forbidden anyone to speak of it, but everyone in the harem is talking about almost nothing else.”

I know not a thing about this—no one has brought official or even unofficial word to my palace—and I am shocked.

“Do you think they ran away together?” I ask. This makes no sense to me. Tryphaena might be in love with Titus, but she would surely not give up her position as queen to go off with him. “If they did, Berenike must be furious.”

“The women in the harem do not think they have gone voluntarily. They say Berenike forced them to leave.”

“But why would she do that? Jealousy?”

“Worse than jealousy! The women believe that Queen Berenike not only sent them away, but that she ordered them both killed. They say that Tryphaena and Titus were sailing on Lake Mareotis on her boat and that Berenike’s guards boarded the boat and took it out into the marshes of the delta. No one has seen the boat, or Tryphaena or Titus, since then.”

“Berenike had them murdered? Can this be true?”

I stare at her, stunned. Berenike, like Tryphaena, can be cruel, but is she ruthless enough to have done this? I remember the crocodiles with dark bronze backs gliding past the royal boat. I remember how frightened we were when Father went ashore at Sais in a small boat and I forced myself to go with him in spite of my fear, but Tryphaena was terrified and refused. I cannot forget the horrible day that Ako fell into the Nile and Nebtawi jumped into the river to save him. I can still see the huge jaws of the ugly beast dragging him down into the dark water. Surely
Berenike did not send our sister to such a terrible death! But I fear she is capable of it.

I am trembling, and I cannot stop. Charmion’s voice reaches me from a great distance. And then I, too, am sinking into blackness.

“Cleopatra!” Lady Amandaris is speaking my name. “Princess Cleopatra!”

I open my eyes to see Charmion’s mother bending over me. Charmion kneels beside me, rubbing a cool balm on my wrists. Lady Amandaris holds a cup and urges me to drink. I sip the liquid obediently, though the taste is bitter.

“You fainted,” she says. “Mistress, I beg you, say nothing of what my daughter has told you here today. The order has gone out by Queen Berenike’s messengers to every quarter of the city. Tryphaena has left Egypt, therefore she is no longer queen, and it is forbidden even to mention her name.”

I push myself up from the carpet and struggle to my feet, though I am still trembling. “I must go back to my palace.”

Charmion and her mother urge me to rest, to wait until I am feeling stronger, but I insist.

“Be careful, mistress,” Lady Amandaris warns me. “We are afraid for your safety.”

I embrace them both—the first time I have done this—and hurry away.

I rush past the guards standing stiffly by the entrance to my palace and find Irisi and Monifa wringing their hands, frantic with worry. The rumors have reached them—that Tryphaena and Titus have disappeared, that they are likely dead, that Queen Berenike is responsible.

“The royal messenger was just here,” Irisi says. “We are not to speak of Queen Tryphaena.”

“It is one thing to issue such an order and quite another to stop people from doing it,” I remind them. I think of Hatshepsut, the queen whose image was erased from every building she had constructed, even from the walls of her beautiful temple. But that did not end the talk about her.

Chapter 28

B
ERENIKE

In spite of Berenike’s edict, rumors of the fate of Tryphaena and Titus grow even more gruesome. Announcements from the palace are now dated YEAR 2 IN THE REIGN OF QUEEN CLEOPATRA BERENIKE. Tryphaena’s name is not mentioned.

It is summer again, the season of Inundation, the annual flooding of the Nile. We pretend that everything is normal, though it is not. My nerves are on edge. I have always known that Berenike might choose at any time to eliminate me as well. I sleep little—will one of the queen’s guards force his way into my palace at night and stab me in my bed? Fearing poison, I refuse to eat or drink anything unless Monifa prepares it with her own hands.

Then, as expected, I receive a summons from Berenike. I hurry to obey, though I dread it. She no longer lives in the pretty little palace that has been hers since childhood but has
taken over the king’s palace. The throne room where Father once received important visitors from many countries looks much different now. The walls have been repainted with bright scenes, many showing Queen Berenike making offerings to the gods.

Glittering with jewels, the queen reclines on her new ebony throne. Inlaid with ivory and decorated with gold, the throne is raised on a dais at the end of the great hall, and on either side of it stands a guard dressed in silk, each guard holding a spotted leopard on a leash. The leopards gaze at me coolly with their glowing amber eyes. One of the creatures stretches lazily, the dark spots rippling over his sleek body, and yawns, showing white fangs.

Berenike’s lips and nails are tinted with henna, her eyes outlined with kohl. On her forehead is the uraeus, the golden cobra, erect and ready to strike. I glance around cautiously to see who else is present, but except for her two guards with the leopards, we are alone. I bow low and wait silently, my head pounding.

Queen Berenike smiles without warmth. “Welcome, Cleopatra,” she says. The flinty edge to her voice makes me increasingly uneasy. She gestures grandly around the vast hall. “How do you like my new throne room? Elegant, is it not?”

I cannot say what I am thinking:
It is not yours. It is Father’s.
I force a smile. “It suits you perfectly, my queen.” But then I cannot seem to stop myself from asking, “Does Queen Tryphaena have one like it?” I immediately regret my question. Berenike will know it is not innocent, that I have deliberately ignored the edict not to speak Tryphaena’s name. But now it is too late to take it back.

Berenike purses her lips. “Interesting that you should ask about her, Cleopatra! In fact, I have not seen our sister for some time. I have been busy overseeing the redecoration of the king’s palace, and there is no end to the matters of state that keep me occupied from dawn until dusk, and beyond. One of the reasons I summoned you is to ask if
you
might have seen our sister and her
good friend
Titus.” Berenike says “good friend” with peculiar emphasis. “They seem to have vanished. You get out and about so much more than I do, Cleopatra. Visiting the king’s harem, and so forth. Naturally, you hear more.” One plucked eyebrow is raised questioningly, and she regards me with an eye as coolly menacing as the leopard’s.

A prickle of danger runs along my spine like an icy finger.
Why would she think I know the whereabouts of Tryphaena if, as she claims, she does not? I do not believe her. This is all an act, a great lie. And who has been reporting to her about my visits to Charmion? Who are the spies in the king’s harem?

“No, dear sister queen,” I answer truthfully, “I know nothing of them.”

“What a shame,” says the queen coldly. “Do let me know if you hear anything. Her absence worries me deeply.”

Queen Berenike dismisses me with a curt nod. I want only to get as far away from her as possible as quickly as possible, but at the last moment she calls me back.

“Cleopatra!”

The leopards are tense, suddenly alert, ready to pounce.

“Yes, my queen?” I am shivering, in spite of the heat, and I am certain the beasts sense my anxiety.

“I am holding an important banquet in three days,” she says. “I expect you to be there.”

“I am deeply honored, my queen,” I reply, and prepare to leave.

“Cleopatra!” Berenike calls after me again. I freeze in place, my heart in my throat. My eyes lock with hers. “I would much prefer you to spend your time with the daughters of noble families,” she says. “Not with a common dancer.”

How I despise this woman! “As you wish,” I mutter, and flee.

Chapter 29

S
ELEUCUS

Three days until Queen Berenike’s banquet, three days to wonder what she has in store for me. There is still no explanation of Tryphaena’s disappearance; she and Titus are not spoken of. And I understand that, for now, it is better for me not to see Charmion.

For months before Tryphaena vanished, there had been fewer large banquets of the kind Father used to hold regularly. As the royal court became divided into opposing factions, Berenike entertained her supporters in one palace, Tryphaena entertained hers in another. I was seldom invited by either, which suited me well. Now I am obliged to attend. Arsinoë is with me, her face flushed with pleasure. Despite the efforts of Monifa and Irisi to calm me, I am apprehensive, my nerves stretched taut.

The banquet is one of the most lavish in years, with whole
roasted oryxes and wine from the vineyards of the Fayum that our father always favored. An air of anticipation hangs over the crowd, and in the midst of the feasting, Queen Berenike calls for silence. She is about to make an announcement. “I have decided to marry!” she proclaims. Everyone gasps, though this was not surprising: Egyptian queens are not expected to reign alone. “I have chosen a fine husband!” she says, laughing loudly. Her guests laugh along with her. I am not amused—only puzzled. “At the end of the banquet, I shall reveal his name!”

Seated beside me, Arsinoë squeaks excitedly, “Who can it be? Do you know, Cleopatra?”

“I have no idea,” I tell my little sister. “Be still, and we’ll find out soon enough.”

If she follows the tradition of the Ptolemies and the pharaohs who ruled before us, she will marry one of our brothers. But Ptolemy XIII is just six years old, Ptolemy XIV not quite five. Knowing Berenike, I am certain she will have none of this tradition. From my place near the dais I search the sea of faces and find no one who seems a likely candidate.

There has been no mention of the disappearance of Tryphaena and Titus. It is as if our sister never existed. Even Antiochus, Titus’s uncle, has shown no reaction to his nephew’s unexplained absence.
And what about Akantha, sister of Titus—does she not wonder? She was once Berenike’s good friend. Is she still? Does she dare ask the queen about Titus?
A part of me still hopes the lovers have somehow reached a place far away where they can be safe. But I know that cannot be so.

The banquet is coming to a close. The dancers have finished their performance—Charmion was not among them—but the
trumpets play a flourish and Berenike announces that she will now introduce her future husband.

“Seleucus, Prince of Syria!” she proclaims.

The bridegroom stumbles to his feet, grinning foolishly, and acknowledges the tepid applause of the guests.

“It’s that man who smells so bad!” Arsinoë whispers too loudly.

“Hush!” I frown at her. But I cannot imagine what has prompted Berenike to choose Saltfish Monger as her husband. What power can the oafish Seleucus bring to her that Berenike has not already seized for herself?

From that night on, I feel not only the queen’s eyes upon me but also the eyes of her numerous unseen spies. I have nothing to hide, nothing to keep from her, with just one exception: Charmion.

Berenike did not actually forbid me to see her, though she made it clear enough that she disapproves of my friendship.
I would much prefer you
were her words, not
I order you.
Still, Charmion and I dare not meet in this poisonous atmosphere where danger lurks in every corner and behind every column. When she dances for the queen’s banquets, we resist exchanging so much as a glance. But after Berenike reveals her intention to marry Seleucus, Charmion and I have too much to discuss to wait any longer.

I send her a message asking her to meet me in the zoological garden near the great Library of Alexandria. The royal menagerie was established by the first Ptolemy. Later kings added to the collection, sending out expeditions to distant places to bring back exotic specimens—lions, tigers, an elephant, even a
great white bear. I sometimes walk in this garden when I have been studying for many hours. This is where I go now, taking a basket of fruit for the elephant.

At first I do not recognize Charmion. She has dressed in the rough garb of a peasant, her long braid tucked beneath a headcloth, and is busily sweeping the path outside the elephant’s cage. The great beast recognizes me and pokes his trunk through the bars.

“There is a small shelter where the tools are kept,” Charmion says quietly without looking up from her sweeping. “I will wait for you there.” She works her way on down the path while the elephant daintily accepts the figs from my hand. When I am reasonably certain that I am not being watched, I find the shelter. It is dark inside, not even a glimmer of light. I hear Charmion’s whisper. “It’s all right,” she says, and her unseen hand guides me to a crude stone bench. “No one is likely to look for us here.”

Before my eyes have adjusted to the darkness, Charmion exclaims, “Queen Berenike cannot be marrying the Saltfish Monger! He smells terrible!”

We continue to speak in whispers. “And his voice! You can hear him bellowing like the sacred Apis bull!”

“Antiochus told my mother that her advisors picked him,” Charmion says. “They don’t want her to rule alone.”

“Three years ago, on our journey up the Nile, there were rumors that this unwashed oaf wanted to marry one of my sisters,” I tell her thoughtfully, “but it’s hard to believe that Berenike actually agreed to marry him, no matter what her advisors say. Nevertheless, if it will keep Berenike occupied, I give my complete approval to the match,” I say to Charmion with mock solemnity.