Pharaoh (48 page)

Antony did not immediately respond, but Kleopatra knew he could not agree to this plan. What Canidius did not know-what none
of the men knew-was that Kleopatra had brought a massive treasure with her aboard her flagship, the
Antonia.
Five hundred pounds of gold, sacks of diamonds and jewels, and twenty thousand talents sat in locked trunks in boarded staterooms
on her main vessel, under the watch of her loyal Macedonian guards from Alexandria. Kleopatra would trust no Roman save Antony
with the knowledge of what she had in her possession, nor with its safekeeping. The men who watched the treasure were from
families who had served the Ptolemies loyally for generations, handpicked personal guards from the Royal Macedonian Household
Troops. They
were the queen’s men; of this she had no doubt. Many of these same guards had been at her side since she was forced into exile
almost twenty years ago.

There would be no abandoning the ship containing the treasure, so there was no abandoning the navy. But Antony could not tell
his commanders why.

Canidius pleaded on. “Sir, at least half our oarsmen are dead. The rest are not well. There is not enough food nor enough
medication to revive them. Who will row the ships?”

“Imperator, we are having difficulty understanding why a man of your experience is unwilling to fight on land. Is it some
newly pledged loyalty to Neptune that keeps you inured to engaging the enemy with the navy?”

Dellius had said this in such a way that even Antony laughed. When he did, some of the men joined in. Kleopatra was now deeply
suspicious of Dellius, but she welcomed the modicum of levity that he had injected into the room.

Dellius continued. “Julius Caesar used to say you were his own lucky charm on the battlefield. He respected you above all
men in matters of war, or at least that was always my own impression.” Dellius sent his most pointed look in Kleopatra’s direction.
“Of course, I was never Caesar’s intimate as some were.”

Canidius was quick to jump in, averting any retort the queen might make. “Sir, there would be no shame in abandoning the fleet.
The enemy is in control of the sea. But to abandon your land forces, or to fritter them away in useless naval skirmishes,
would be a crime. A land war it must be. And it must be said-with all due respect to Your Majesty-that the queen’s presence
would not be an asset in a land war.” He turned to Kleopatra, her loyal Roman champion, and in a low but firm voice said,
“It would be better for Your Majesty to escape by land over the Peloponnese, or to attempt an escape by ship once we withdraw
from the gulf.”

Kleopatra waited for Antony’s response.

“It is for the best,” Canidius added, looking not at the queen but at Antony. “Morale among the Roman legions would improve
greatly. If you are going to ask the men to endure, you must make some concessions to their desires.”

“And what of the half the army that is not Roman?” Antony asked.
“What of their desires? If the queen leaves, many of them will go with her. Besides, she is our ally, and we do not send our
allies away.”

Yes, if he sends me away, he sends away his money, Kleopatra thought. He is trying to say this to his commanders without actually
uttering the words. But they will think that he avoids a land war out of deference to me. She knew that she must say something
to alleviate this idea, to stop the spread of poison before it left the tent.

“Canidius Crassus, if we abandon our navy, then the enemy will have complete control of the seas. He will be able to blockade
us in wherever we go. It takes time and money to build ships. Do you really wish to be an army without a navy? It would leave
us indefensible.”

“The queen is entirely correct,” Antony said. “We will not abandon one of our greatest assets. It is my assessment that no
war should be waged from this vantage point. Our men have grown weak. Morale is low, the disease and defection rate high.
We have resources to regroup and to win, but we must get our army out of this mire. I move that we withdraw from the gulf,
and take the winter to gather new armies and supplies. Let Octavian remain encamped in Greece. Let his army and his navy suffer
the same indignities we have endured these last months. Our best plan is to escape and fight another day.”

“And how does the Imperator suggest we escape?” Sosius asked. He had taken a back seat at the meeting and he did not look
happy. “We are blockaded.”

“Remember the disaster at Phraaspa, gentlemen? We were in severe and desperate conditions. I called a retreat. You spent a
very comfortable winter in Syria, drinking and dining on the queen’s purse, and we went back the next year and were victorious.”

“History shall repeat itself,” Kleopatra promised. “I believe you shall all find accommodations in Alexandria to your liking.”

“Leave the details to us,” Antony said, referring to himself and the queen. “We shall escape this place within the week.”

All summer long Kleopatra’s mind had been weighted down with the heat and humidity that pressed on the Gulf of Ambracia like
some invisible anvil. She longed for escape from this place. Every moment was
lived in anticipation of a time when her ships would break free from the double pressure of the soggy atmosphere and Octavian’s
vessels that kept them imprisoned in their encampment on the shores at Actium. She did not walk about in the hazy malarial
stupor that had descended upon most of the troops. She felt rather as if the power was being squeezed out of her body by unseen
forces. If she might only escape this place, she could breathe again and think once more with clarity.

They had waited for a harbinger of good weather, clear skies and winds from the east that would bring the westerly afternoon
breeze known as the Maestro. Finally, after what seemed an interminable time spent watching the skies, she and Antony stood
under a blood-red sunset-auspicious for sailors-and he announced that tomorrow would be the day they left this place for good.

That night, Kleopatra watched as two hundred of her ships-the ships for which she had bargained for the very timber, supervised
the planning and the construction, and paid for the finest rowers to man them-were destroyed in titanic flames. The sailors
had soaked the polished Cypriot beams in flammable oils and then lit them with torches. The army stood on the shore, the shadows
of the flames dancing on their red, sweaty faces, and watched their mammoth warships burn. There were no men to crew them,
and it was far better to destroy them than to leave them for the enemy. Kleopatra knew that Octavian was watching and hoped
he was not aware of their plan.

“Once we are safely in Egypt, we will begin again,” Antony said, feeling her sadness as they watched the navy they had so
carefully constructed become great black hulls that would be left to ghost the shores. “We’ll rest and restore the men on
good Greek food and wine and sunny Egyptian skies, and we’ll begin recruiting once more.”

“I will order timber for new ships immediately,” Kleopatra said, turning her face away from the blaze, but the fire lit their
camp as if it was the middle of the day. “And as far as recruits, they are being born every minute. We shall send all the
way to India if necessary. Some of the spices we import are from as far away as that land. Why can we not import men if we
can import cumin? We will make it worth their while.”

“And they will teach us those mystical ideas that so fascinated Alexander,” Antony said. “It is said that they harbor great
secrets that bring a man and a woman in touch with the very gods during coupling.”

“That is surely knowledge worth paying for,” she replied, trying to smile at him in the old way that meant that in minutes
they would be escaping to their quarters, arms and legs wrapped about each other in a tangle of lust. She wanted to respond
to his efforts to bolster her, but she thought her voice sounded hollow.

Since they had decided to flee and regroup, Antony’s spirits were high. He brushed off the betrayal of Ahenobarbus and Amyntas
and was once more looking to the future. He was a man who thrived on a soldier’s freedom, Kleopatra reminded herself, a man
who would remain by one’s side forever as long as he did not think he was required to do so. The confinement the naval barricade
had imposed upon him must had been overwhelmingly difficult, more so than he had revealed to her or to his men. If he had
prowled about their quarters moodily like a caged lion, she must forgive him, for that was what he was in these circumstances.

The sky was a seamless blue on the morning of the flight, and the heat of the summer was swept away by the cool autumn winds
arriving from the north. They could not have commanded the sky god to have furnished them with more auspicious weather.

“If only we could have had more days such as today,” Antony remarked as he dressed for sea battle. His trunks were already
packed and loaded onto Kleopatra’s flagship. Charmion had removed all valuables from their tent the day before. Nothing of
consequence was left behind. They were staking everything on their success. “We would not have had to bury so many this summer.”

“The gods choose who lives and who dies, my darling,” she replied.

“Perhaps. But the burden falls too often on those whom the gods choose to command other men,” he said. “It is not always pleasant
to share these responsibilities with the gods.”

They said a hasty good-bye away from the sight of others, but as Kleopatra’s escort came to help her board her flagship, Canidius
Crassus requested entrance to their quarters.

“Sir, there is grumbling among the men.” Canidius was clean-shaven, with little red nicks on his neck. Even the barbers’ razors
were wearing thin, Kleopatra thought.

“Are you sure it isn’t the rumbling of their stomachs? Do they not know that we are moving them out of here and toward lavish
meals?” Antony was in a hurry and in no mood for a disruption of his plans.

“Sir, the land forces are not a problem. But the legionnaires who have been assigned to the ships know that you’ve ordered
the sails to be stowed away on board. They know that can only mean one thing- flight. And yet they have been instructed to
engage the enemy in battle.”

“Yes, we are going to fight our way out of here like soldiers. Do they think Agrippa is going to give us an escort to the
opening of the gulf?”

“No sir, but half the men wish to stay and fight. I’ve heard them swear that if they think they can win the day, they will
do so. No one wishes the war to drag on another year.”

“Are you telling me that my orders are going to be defied?” Antony spoke quietly, but there was menace in his voice. Kleopatra
realized that he could not tolerate one more day in the present situation. He had set his sights and his soul on escape. Anyone
who threatened the success of that would surely die.

“Not exactly, sir. But there is confusion in the dual purpose of the mission.”

“There is no dual purpose!” Antony roared. “We are little more than two hundred ships against Agrippa’s four hundred. Those
are not good odds, Canidius, even for me. The naval orders are to engage the enemy until the queen’s sixty ships escape, and
then turn around and follow. Isn’t that clear? The army marches north through Macedonia, on to Syria, and then to Egypt. What
could be simpler?”

“Ships will be lost.”

“For the sake of the gods, Canidius, of course there will be losses. It’s a damned war!” Antony was beyond patience. Kleopatra
did not like to see him so upset before such an important maneuver, one that would require all his calm and his cunning.

“I am simply reporting what I hear in the ranks to you as is my duty.”

Kleopatra could not dislike Canidius even though he, too, had turned against her involvement in the war. He was dignified
and loyal, as loyal as a eunuch, she mused as he patiently withstood Antony’s anger. It was not a trait she perceived in many
Roman commanders. Canidius had filled the role Antony had played with Caesar. Had Caesar lived, Antony would forever have
been contented to remain Caesar’s second. But circumstance and Fate pushed Antony to take on Caesar’s position. Canidius was
one of the few men capable of commanding in the first position, but he would never thrust himself forward. How rare. Kleopatra
wondered if this Marcus Agrippa who was responsible for
Octavian’s victories would remain loyal to his commander, or would Octavian, like his uncle, soon meet with the Roman daggers
of his so-called friends?

“I am not going to alter my plan for a few disgruntled soldiers,” Antony said. “I will be in the very visible position of
commanding the right squadrons. I am personally taking on the task of facing the portion of the flotilla under Agrippa’s command
despite the fact that he has me severely outnumbered. I am asking nothing of the men that I am not demanding of myself-despite
my advanced years.” He smiled at Kleopatra. “We shall fight until we have weakened their center. Then, Kleopatra’s squadrons
shall hoist sails and catch the afternoon breeze out to sea. At that point, I shall retreat from the enemy and escape. As
many ships as are still afloat will follow me.”