Pharaoh (45 page)

“Imperator, what you promise is impossible,” Kleopatra declared. “Who will govern the eastern empire if you lay down your
powers? The senate? That is what started so much chaos to begin with.”

“Yes, I realize that, and it will never happen, of course,” Antony replied. “But with Octavian promising to restore every
vestige of the Republic, what else can I do? Remember what happened to Caesar? He expanded the empire beyond Rome’s wildest
dreams and then was assassinated for fulfilling their ambitions.”

Even Caesar had failed to reconcile Rome’s global greed with its self-definition as a nation of simple, land-loving, austere
farmers.

“Though I despise him above all men, I almost admire the way Octavian plays both sides of the political fence,” Kleopatra
said.

“More and more, he presents himself as a simple man who cares for nothing luxurious,” Canidius said. Of all Antony’s Roman
supporters, Canidius had become her biggest confidant. Her own staff she had left behind in Alexandria to administer the government.
She had longed for someone like the cool-headed Hephaestion to confide in during these difficult times when emotions ran high,
factions changed often, and decisions had to be made quickly. But Hephaestion was indispensable at home, and Canidius shared
with both Antony and Caesar the quality she had found lacking in virtually all other Romans-willingness to accept a woman
in a position of authority.

“Of course, he is trying to contrast himself with our own Imperator, whom he has portrayed as a man despoiled by the riches
of the east,” Canidius added.

“They say that the home he shares with Livia in Rome is no finer than that of a humble tradesman, and that poor Livia is made
to do all her own housework to demonstrate that she is an old-fashioned Roman girl. Are these stories true?” asked the incredulous
queen.

“Yes, but it’s all part of his grand theatrical production of himself!” Canidius exclaimed. “Behind closed doors, he held
a grotesque banquet with himself and his closest associates costumed as gods-the very thing he cries out against the Imperator
for doing in Alexandria, where it is actually expected of those in power.”

“I thought there were food shortages in Rome,” Kleopatra said. “How do the people feel about their leader hosting feasts when
they themselves have no bread? I remember how they reacted in my country when my late brother did the same.”

“Word got out about the feast, and he was humiliated. People said snidely that the gods had eaten up all the bread, and that
was why there was starvation in the city. So Octavian denied what he had done, and from that point forward, Livia was made
to wear even simpler gowns. All her family jewelry has been locked away, and she may not even have pearls in her hair anymore.”

“The poor woman,” Kleopatra said. “First, torn from her husband and children, and then made to live like a beggar.”

“The man is infuriating,” Antony said. “He made a big show of laying down his powers and becoming a private citizen, and at
the same time he bullied the senate into giving him all kinds of powers that are normally reserved for a dictator.”

Canidius threw the stick he had been using to refer to the maps across the table. “And yet he stands before the senate daily
and swears that his only goal is to restore traditional Roman values. Simplicity! He is as simple as a spider’s web.”

And he is wrong if he thinks I am going to be one of his little flies, Kleopatra said to herself. Her conversation with Canidius
had given her an idea, the kind that came with a chill and a rush of blood to the head. That night, she revealed it to Antony.

“Imperator, Canidius informs me that food shortages in Italy are causing people to cry out against Octavian. Is that not the
case?”

“Yes, praise the gods, it is true, but it isn’t enough. They should slay him at his table.”

“Then why do we not take this opportunity to do just that?”

“What do you mean, Kleopatra? Are you thinking of employing your father’s old assassin, Ascinius, because if you are, please
do your arithmetic. He will be either hobbling with a cane or serving as the assassin to the gods by now.”

“Let me tell you something about arithmetic. Mine tells me that we have eight hundred vessels at our command, seventy-five
thousand men ready to march as soon as you give the word, and another twelve thousand on horse who would take to the saddle
tomorrow at the behest of
the great Antony. When you are not looking, Imperator, I walk among them and speak to them in their own languages. They are
men of war and they are anxious for it.”

“Thank you for rallying the troops,” he said sardonically.

“If Rome is weak and we are strong, then what are we waiting for? We must attack Italy now, while people are disgruntled with
Octavian and his ways.”

“I have thought of that, Kleopatra. I have even discussed it with the generals. The Roman generals, that is. We have come
to this conclusion. Caesar marched against his own countrymen on the soil of his fathers and their fathers, and the people
used it against him until the last blow of the dagger went into his back. I miss him, but I do not wish to join him. I will
not attack Italy.”

“But you did so at Caesar’s behest. You will not do so for yourself?”

“I was under his command. Now I am under my own.”

“I do not understand you. Do you not wish to triumph over your enemy?”

She did not like the look he gave her. Since their earliest days together, he had never slung so much as a hint of suspicion
her way. Their trust in one another was paramount. Yet now he turned his head away as if to hide his private sentiments. She
did not like looking at the back of his head when she knew so much was going on in his mind.

“Perhaps Ahenobarbus is right.” He did not turn around.

“Right about what?”

When he did turn to look at her, his eyes were soft again. “My dear, the Roman generals wish you to return to Alexandria.”

This was nothing she hadn’t anticipated. She saw the looks of disdain on their faces for the presence of a woman in a War
Council meeting. Once, she had gotten fed up with their hostile silence and reminded them that she had raised and commanded
an army herself before she was twenty; that she had ruled a kingdom for eighteen years; that men lived and died by her word.
And that she had built many of the ships in the harbor waiting to fight their enemy. She was the monarch to whom at least
half of the troops stationed in the camps-many of whom would die for the ambitions of these generals in the tent-had pledged
their loyalty. She had silenced them for the moment, but as she now saw, not for long.

“And which generals were for this?”

“All but Canidius, who gave a most eloquent testimony to your intelligence and your many assets.”

“And what of the Imperator himself? What is his position on this issue?” The betrayals of the past lurched out from the place
in her memory where she had locked them away. Would the man who had turned his back on her and Egypt for four years return?

“I weighed the question.” He spoke slowly, while she despised her own anticipation, a terrible reminder of how vulnerable
she was to his goodwill. “And I decided that to send you away would be too much a grand victory for Octavian. It is what he
wants, and he will turn it to his advantage. Because if I am not a mercenary in the service of a foreign queen, then I must
be starting another civil war. And there is nothing the Roman people want less than another civil war. I won’t be a scapegoat
to that.”

“Well, at least you have thought the situation through. I commend you.” She felt so much hurt in her body that she thought
she would faint, if only from trying to hide it from him. With great effort, she held her face perfectly still. The slightest
movement would release a storm of emotions. She bit the insides of her cheeks until she tasted the salty metal tang of her
own blood.

“Besides, if you leave, I am certain that half the army will turn around and follow you.”

“Then thank the gods that you have decided that I might still be of service to you, Imperator.”

She turned to leave the room but he caught her arm. “Kleopatra, keep hold of yourself. This is not a bedroom quarrel. This
is a discussion of wartime strategy.”

He was right, but she resented the knowledge that if he chose to, he might send her away like a servant who had displeased
the master.

“I have made my position known to all men. What kind of general sends away his greatest ally? His most brilliant adviser?
His wealthiest supporter?” He said this last with a broad smile. “Or the woman he loves and treasures above all things?”

“All right, Imperator. I have once again fallen for your charms, whose powers seem to have no limit.” She pulled away from
him. “But I believe we were discussing the attack on Italy.”

“I will not be the man who decimated his own country. The last two wars for control over Rome were fought on Greek soil. I
prevailed with Caesar in the one and with Octavian in the other. I will prevail on Greek soil again.”

That was the last word on the subject. Kleopatra feared that pursuing the topic of pressing his advantage on Roman soil-though
she was sure it was the right strategic move-might move Antony to believe some of Octavian’s propaganda against her as the
woman determined to bring Rome down. As Antony would not give Octavian the satisfaction of sending Kleopatra home, so Kleopatra
recognized that it was indeed possible for her to give Octavian a victory by playing the part he had written for her. Antony
was the general in charge of all the forces of the eastern empire. Let him command as he saw fit.

Kleopatra’s reign

T
here was nothing left to do now but fight. Antony and Kleopatra had left Ephesus with their army and navy and sailed to the
tiny Greek island of Samos to hold games celebrating the unity of so many kings and nations under their command. For weeks
now, the theaters had been filled with athletic games, theatrical plays, and music, all of which were followed by feasts both
public and private. Every prince of state had sent players and musicians for the festival and had donated oxen for the sacrifices.
Music played day and night through the island, and people from all over the world came to see the festivities prepared for
them by the new masters of the world.

“Has ever there been such a celebration of victory
before
a war?” Canidius sat in a place of honor next to the queen in the
theater
at Samos. “We are not celebrating victory, Canidius. We are showing the world what life will be like after we have won,”
the queen replied. “We will feed every man, woman, and child, body and soul.”

Kleopatra was joyous that so many Romans of ancient and noble lineage had made such a show of support for Antony, but she
also realized that it was she who would be feeding them while they were in her camp. She had hurried meetings with those in
charge of the kitchens, making sure that more food, wine, plate, dining couches, lavish tents, servants, oil lamps, candles,
and linens were sent from Egypt to their headquar-

ters. “And they are Romans, so remember to order double what you would need to feed civilized people,” Charmion reminded her.

Now she looked out over the assemblage of those who had marched across the world to Samos to join in their cause. How could
they lose? Almost every king, lord, prince, vassal, and chief had come with his army to fight for Antony. If he had not come,
he sent a high commander with troops, cavalry, weapons.

Following Caesar’s ambition that all the world be given Roman citizenship, Antony had issued massive numbers of coins in honor
of every nation that had joined his cause, showing the country’s banners side by side with the Roman eagle and standards.
Each man who risked his life did so for citizenship in the great Roman empire. Those coins were now in the pockets of every
man in the theater, a special assurance of his loyalty.

Kleopatra and Antony stood to salute their allies. King Bogud of Mauretania, Caesar’s great supporter, had been chased out
of his country by Octavian, who confiscated his lands when he expelled Lepidus from Africa. The king and his men were bedecked
in gold tunics, bright in the sun against their deep ochre skin. Tarcondimotus, the prince of Cilicia, had come bearing a
trunk of coins that heralded Antony friend and benefactor of his nation. From Asia Minor, Archelaus of Cappodocia had arrived
with the same sort of formidable force that his father had once raised to defend Kleopatra’s rebel sister, Berenike. Antony
had a long-established friendship with Archelaus’s family, though they were the bastard heirs of Mithridates, the famous enemy
of Rome. Antony had always maintained that Archelaus would not let him down despite his father’s relations with Berenike,
and despite the fact that he had died in that rebellious girl’s attempt to steal the throne. Antony was not wrong. Today,
Archelaus saluted Antony and the queen. Surrounded by his men, he was tall and beautiful. Berenike had always made much of
the father’s good looks, and now Kleopatra saw that the son had inherited his impressive height and features. From Paphlagonia,
Pontus, Galatia and Commagene, every prince of Asia Minor was present and making a great show of color. National and tribal
standards cast a rainbow across the amphitheater. The tall, fair men of Thrace made Kleopatra think of her childhood obsession
with the Thracian slave Spartacus. She had to laugh to herself. How she had lusted for stories
of the gladiator’s exploits, dreaming that one day she would meet such a warrior as he and the two of them would join forces.
She had exceeded the dreams of childhood; she was not united with a rebel slave but with a man whom the whole world heralded
as Imperator.

Every faction was assembled for these games, as if the world was already celebrating how beautiful life would be after their
victory It would no longer be beholden to cruel Roman governors, to crippling taxes and tributes, to hostile Roman armies
marching across their lands, destroying their crops, recruiting their sons, raping their daughters, and pillaging their temples
and treasuries. The world would be united under Antony and Kleopatra. The spillage of rivers of human and animal blood in
the arena that the Romans so favored would be replaced by what took place here in Samos-games that celebrated not cruelty,
domination, and death, but art, music, poetry, athletic prowess. All that was high and good and beautiful in, of, and from
humanity.

From Arabia, Iamblichus, prince of the holy city of Emesa, and his men wore the billowing black robes and turbans that protected
them from the sun and wind of the desert. When Antony saluted them, they stood in unison like an army of falcons, drawing
daggers and pointing them in the direction of Rome. The sun slapped the scimitars’ metal, bounding a streak of light back
into the air, and all the other soldiers from the other nations jumped to their feet and cheered. Armies from as near as Pontus
and as far as Judaea and Media all stood in unison, paying tribute to Antony and the queen.

“Not since Alexander has so much of the world united behind one man,” Kleopatra whispered to Antony.

He took her chin in his hand and turned her face to his, and a few men were moved to respond with a soldier’s taunting whistle.

“And behind one woman,” he added. “Alexander may have had such an army and such a navy, but even he did not have you, Kleopatra.”