Hearing someone approaching, Ramtat flattened his body against a wall, blending with the shadows. Moments later, he reached the inner garden where Caesar was quartered, and the Roman sentries waved him through. They had been told to expect him.
As he entered the well-lit chamber, Ramtat’s gaze went directly to the man whose head was sagging into his hands.
Wearily the Proconsul of Rome raised his head and nodded at the young Egyptian who had fought at his side through the last campaign and had covered himself with glory, bringing honor to an already honored name.
“You’re late.”
“There are spies everywhere, Caesar. I had to double back twice to avoid being seen. And I had to make my way to your armory so I could pay the men in my legion and disburse them.”
“Yes, yes,” Caesar said in irritation. “That had to be done. And as for spies, young King Ptolemy has his spies watching me, and my spies watch him while he watches me.”
“Are you ill?” Ramtat asked with concern upon seeing the older man’s pallor.
“Sick at heart. Your Egyptians murdered a noble man when they beheaded Pompey. He would have come to a better end at my hands. You must have heard that Pompey was married to my daughter until she died giving birth to their child.”
“I did know that.” Ramtat had also been horrified by the murder of Pompey. “And you must know the men responsible for Pompey’s death are not my Egyptians, but rather that festering lot attached to King Ptolemy.”
Caesar pounded his fist on the desk in front of him. “They thought to please me, but by beheading Pompey, they have merely sealed their own doom, as they will discover in the days to come.”
Maps were spread out in front of Caesar, and he began rolling them up and shoving them into goatskin tubes.
Unconsciously Ramtat rolled one of the maps and shoved it into a tube while he observed Caesar. Although the Roman leader was in his fifties, he had the appearance and physique of a much younger man. He was battle-hard and muscled from years of war. Though not handsome in the conventional sense—his nose was large, his brows too heavy—there was something magnetic about his personality, and when he spoke, he drew people to him.
“If King Ptolemy had his way, you would meet the same fate as Pompey,” Ramtat warned.
“Which is precisely why I have you at my side, son of Egypt. You bring me luck, and now I expect you to win your people to my side. It falls to me to heal this split between Cleopatra and Ptolemy. It is in Rome’s best interest that they rule jointly.”
With a satirical glance at the man he admired above all others, Ramtat shoved the last map into a cylinder and placed it with the others. “King Ptolemy is a mere puppet, his strings pulled by that eunuch, Parthanis, as well as Theodotus, who masquerades as the royal teacher, although I have never observed him implanting any knowledge into the boy’s head. The civil war between brother and sister will most probably end in Cleopatra’s death, and Egypt will be the worse for it.”
Caesar rubbed his forehead. “Little would I care who wins or loses if the war did not involve Rome. The way it is, I find myself being pulled into their war against my will. I will need you to glean information for me in the next few weeks.” His eyes narrowed on the young Egyptian. “Tell me everything you know of these two rivals for the throne of Egypt. I must know their weaknesses, for surely they have them.”
“Cleopatra is nothing if not cunning. When her brother had her deposed and set himself up as sole ruler, she did not accept defeat. She used her knowledge of languages to draw people to her, and has gathered quite a force to march against her brother.”
“She cannot win.”
“Nay. Her troops are outnumbered by Ptolemy’s army.”
“What of her character—what is she like?”
“I knew Cleopatra well when she was younger, and nothing about her at that time drew special attention. Of course, no one expected her to be queen. But I noticed she was always studying and reading, gleaning all the knowledge she could. It was easy to see that she was her father’s favorite child—all the court knew how he indulged her and had her educated by the best scholars from all over the world. She speaks several languages fluently, and is the first of her house to bother learning our Egyptian language, a point that has always pleased her people.”
“And Ptolemy?”
“His ambitious mother kept him in his father’s eye at all times and never allowed the king to forget who should succeed him on the throne.” Ramtat looked thoughtful for a moment. “Ptolemy is no great scholar. His temperament is childish, bitter, and he always insists on having his way in everything. He is growing into exactly the kind of person one would expect when a child has been spoiled and pampered from birth.”
“And what about the two men who stand closest to the throne? What are their weaknesses?”
“Parthanis and Theodotus are both dangerous; it must have been at their orders that Pompey was beheaded. Their real interest is in lining their pockets with gold and directing the power of Egypt. They even bicker among themselves to obtain that glory.”
“As I recall, the king’s father was no great scholar either,” Caesar said disgustedly. “When your own people drove him out of Egypt, he raided the treasury and gave most of it to Rome to buy back the throne for him. What do you say of such a king?”
“The dead cause no trouble, my lord. It is the living that concern me.”
The Proconsul of Rome gave an uproarious laugh. “Well said. Let us keep a sharp eye on the living and guard our own backs. Be my eyes and ears—keep me informed of all that goes on behind these walls.”
Ramtat bowed. “I will do what I can.”
“It is good that the king trusts you. Continue to flatter him, remain at his side, be a friend to him. I want to know which way his armies are going to jump before he does.”
Ramtat lowered himself onto a leather stool. “My position may have been compromised today.”
Caesar jerked his head up, and his eyes became hooded. “In what way?”
“There was a young woman aboard the boat that brought me to Alexandria. I saw her today, and she recognized me.”
Caesar looked thoughtful for a moment and then shrugged. “You have merely to find out who she is and silence her.”
“I know who she is, so I should have no difficulty locating her. But what do you mean when you ask me to silence her?”
“If your position is compromised, you will be of no use to me—and you will be in grave danger from those who serve their own interests.” Caesar rubbed his forehead in weariness. “Most probably we have nothing to worry about. The woman surely cannot reach the king with her tale.”
Ramtat flexed his shoulders to ease the tension. “She had an audience with the king today while I was with him.”
Caesar stood and began pacing. “She didn’t tell Ptolemy about you at that time?”
“Not today. But I think after she has had time to reflect, she will seek another audience with Ptolemy. She has no liking for me.”
“Who is she?”
“Lady Danaë of the House of Sahure. Her father was the Royal Animal Trainer.”
“Eliminate her!”
Ramtat was stunned by such an order and shook his head. “That I will not do.”
Caesar glared at him. “Do you dare defy me?”
“In this instance I do. Lady Danaë is a noblewoman of some import and has done naught to warrant such action. As an Egyptian, I cannot allow harm to come to her unless I see harm in her.”
Caesar clasped his hands behind him and glared at the younger man. “Why must you always challenge my authority?”
“If you will remember, when you sent for me in Gaul, I told you I would never do anything that was not in Egypt’s best interest.”
Caesar waved him away. “You are one of the few I ever allow to dispute my orders and live to tell about it.” He stared at Ramtat in annoyance. “Surely we can meet on common ground, and you can do something to silence th
e woman. Too much depends on my knowing what the king is up to, and only you can find that out for me.”
“I can take measures to prevent her from talking,” Ramtat suggested. “That shouldn’t be too difficult.”
“Then do it,” Caesar snapped, dropping down onto a cushioned stool and waving his hand around the opulent room. “Look at this—how does one sleep in such a place? Golden beds, golden footstools, strange writings on the walls. With half of what it took to furnish this room, I could have taken Gaul.”
“Egypt is a very wealthy country.”
Caesar nodded in agreement. “I am about to relieve your Egypt of some of her wealth. But no matter about that—tell me what transpired between you and the king.”
“I let it be known that you were my father’s good friend and that I knew you well. That pleased those two vultures who circle around Ptolemy.”
Caesar nodded and gave a deep laugh. “The fools play right into my hands. When we meet tomorrow in the throne room, I shall put on a great show of affection and make them believe I haven’t seen you in years.”
Ramtat nodded in understanding. Caesar was not called the “great strategist” without reason. “So I am to play both sides of the coin.”
“Precisely!” Caesar looked even more weary and eased back onto his stool. “I need to know the reason the king chased his sister into the desert. Use friendship, flattery, or whatever it takes to win the boy to your side. But keep your eyes open in my service.”
Ramtat was thoughtful. “Again I must remind you that I love Egypt well, and will never do anything to the detriment of my people. In this campaign, you may ask something of me which I will be unwilling to do.”
Caesar gave Ramtat a look of grudging respect. “Your honesty is one of the first things I admired about you. I know that, no matter what, you will be truthful with me.”
Ramtat started to say something, but Caesar silenced him with a wave of his hand. “What makes you think you have to keep reminding me where your first loyalty lies? You have convinced me of that on several other occasions.”
“My country must see an end to this war. It is my heartfelt wish for Queen Cleopatra to be exclusive ruler of Egypt when it is over.”
“Have a care, young Ramtat, for you walk over an abyss. One wrong step will cause your downfall, and if you fall, you may very well drag Egypt down with you.”
“I know that.”
“Are you sure you are not allowing the affection you felt for the queen when she was younger to color your judgment?”
“Nay, Caesar. I had no real affection for her at that time. I was more interested in strengthening my sword arm than being a royal sycophant like many of my friends.”
“Then heed this,” Caesar stated forcefully. “The ruler of Egypt will be whom I choose. Only I can make that decision.”
Ramtat bowed. “As is your appointed right. With your permission, I should leave right away. Dawn will be breaking within a few hours, and the courtyards will be swarming with people.”
“Have a care. Look for that young woman and make sure she doesn’t talk. See to it immediately.”
Ramtat nodded. “I’ll find out what I can, and then I’ll report to you. But I must caution you to guard yourself at all times. You have few friends here in the palace.”
“Your concern is appreciated. Just make certain to keep that woman away from the king.”
Ramtat bowed. “Your word is my command.”
Caesar gave him a skeptical glance. “Get out of here, you young rogue. You serve me only because you think it is in Egypt’s best interest.”
“I would never dispute your words, mighty Caesar.”
“You would, and you have.” Caesar turned away. “Leave me so I can find my bed before the duties of the day demand my attention.”
When he turned back, Ramtat was already gone, melting into the shadows.
After Danaë had settled Obsidian down for the night and fed the hawk, it was too late to seek Uriah’s council. And she needed to think everything through. Why would a man of Egypt want to help Rome? She could not understand what Lord Ramtat’s motive could be. The king knew Ramtat from the past and trusted him enough to send his guards out of the room and leave himself undefended with the man.
She went to the window and watched the moonlight appear and disappear through the scattered clouds. If she had been just an ordinary woman, and Lord Ramtat an ordinary man, she could so easily have opened her heart to him.
A cloud passed over the moon, devouring the light and leaving the night in darkness, and Danaë was afraid. But Ramtat was not an ordinary man—the gods had cast the two of them in opposite camps, and that made him her enemy.
Chapter Nine
It was early morning as Danaë made her way down the curved garden path, inhaling the sweet scent of the flowers that were in full bloom. She moved hurriedly across the courtyard in search of Uriah. She had been awake for most of the night wondering what she should do about Lord Ramtat, and she was still uncertain. When she found her former tutor, he was seated beneath a tree, his head bent over a scroll. He was so engrossed in what he was reading, he had not heard her soft tread.
“How are you faring, Uriah?”
He quickly rose to his feet and bowed respectfully. “Well enough.” He looked her over carefully and noticed the shadows beneath her eyes. “I hope you are settling into your new life.”
She sat down on the bench and tried to gather her thoughts, not yet ready to discuss Lord Ramtat. “I am. However, Obsidian paces her cage and is restless since she is accustomed to a certain amount of freedom, which she cannot have here in Alexandria.”
“That would not be wise,” Uriah agreed, smiling as if he were contemplating something humorous. “If Obsidian were allowed freedom on these grounds, your servants would flee in fear.”
“It’s hard to know what to do about her.”
Uriah looked at her speculatively. “The problem of the leopard is not what really eats at your mind, is it?”
Danaë raised her gaze to him. “There is something that troubles me greatly, and I don’t know what I should do about it.”
“Are you ready to tell me?”
She plucked at the blue trim on her gown. “On the sea voyage to Alexandria, just before we reached the Great Harbor, several Roman warships overtook us. I told you about the man we encountered, and how we had to dock at the lighthouse to take him on board.”
“Yes. As I recall, you said he was a Roman general.”
“And so I thought he was at the time. Now I don’t believe he’s a Roman at all. The king called him Lord Ramtat. He stood as a friend to the king in the chamber yesterday, but I do not think he is Ptolemy’s friend at all.”
Uriah looked worried. “Lord Ramtat is of the Tausret family, they are very powerful and stand close to the throne.” He paced forward and then back to stand before Danaë. “I can see why he might not want the king to know of his connections with Rome.” He watched her face as he asked, “Did he speak to you?”
Her bottom lip trembled. “After I left the throne room, Lord Ramtat caught up with me and … and threatened me.”
“Does he know who you are?”
She watched Uriah’s brows meet across the bridge of his nose as he frowned. “Yes, he does. My name was announced to the king.”
Uriah looked worried. “He is a man of great power and standing. If he wants to find you, he will.”
“You don’t think I am making too much of this, do you?”
“He may be searching for you even now.” Uriah’s frown deepened. “There is some plot afoot, and he knows you can place him in league with the Romans. Therefore, we can assume he’ll soon find his way here.”
“Do you think I should leave Alexandria?”
“Aye, I do—at once.” He glanced toward the house as if deciding what to do first. “There is no time to squander. There is treachery afoot, and you have unwittingly become a part of it. We must hurry!”
&nb
sp; “Where can I go? Where can I hide that he cannot find me?”
Uriah closed his eyes a moment; when he opened them again, he gave Danaë a troubled glance. “I know of a place you will be safe. But it is far away, and you must prepare for a long, hard journey across the desert. It will not be easy.”
Even as Uriah was speaking, there was a pounding on the front gate, and a loud voice demanding entrance. “Wait here,” Uriah warned. “Stay in the shadows and do not show yourself until I determine whether you are in danger.”
Danaë knew in her heart that Lord Ramtat had found her.
Who else would come pounding on her gate, unless it was Harique?
She flinched when she heard the clash of swords. Faithful Faraji would be resisting the intruders. She ran in the direction of the front gate, fearing for her guard’s life.
Uriah stepped into her path and grabbed her arm. “You must come away with me at once!” His linen robe flapped against his legs as he hurried Danaë toward the stable. “The men fighting their way past your guards wear the blue and bronze Egyptian uniforms and carry the banner of Lord Ramtat. Hasten, hasten! We have not a moment to lose.”
Lord Ramtat was accompanied by five of his personal guards, and they had easily subdued Faraji and two other men who had fought bravely in defense of their lady.
“Restrain them if you must, but do not hurt them if you can help it,” Ramtat ordered, making his way toward the house. When he brought the household servants together and tried to question them, he found them sullen and uncooperative. One, a woman who identified herself as Minuhe, was hostile and ordered them to leave the premises. Ramtat’s men went through every room, shoving aside furniture and breaking pottery in their search. An angry order from Ramtat halted the destruction, and the men meekly righted the furniture they had overturned.
When it became clear to Ramtat that Lady Danaë was not there, he called the servants in again and lined them against the wall. “Who among you is willing to tell me the whereabouts of Lady Danaë for payment?”
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