Fronto sighed. ‘Again we had insufficient time. And I suspect you have less grasp of naval matters than even I if you think doing so would be a simple matter. I considered every possibility and when I discarded the impossible or the pointless, I was left only with the one I pursued.’
Cleopatra snarled.
‘My library is burning, soldier. The repository of all learning in the civilised world. A place great philosophers, scientists, poets and inventors seek out from all over the world for the lettered treasures it holds, and now smoke pours from its roofs.’
Fronto winced. That was the thing he’d heard that he wasn’t looking forward to apologising for. Luckily he was saved the need for it right then, as Caesar suddenly turned from the window, gesturing.
‘My dear lady, please. Do not waste venom on Fronto here. Firstly, he is correct that Achillas has controlled the worst of the fire, which means that not only will it not spread, but it is keeping our enemy busy and causing him trouble. From what I understand much of the learning from the library is being saved, for the priests and scribes are carrying scrolls to safety by the armful. And above all, it is said plainly that the library long since lacked sufficient room, and that it is now only one of four buildings in the city that serve this purpose. What has happened is that a part of your fabled library has burned. It is infinitely regretful that it has happened, but it was also an accident, and in a time of war such things happen.’
‘That is a platitude.’
‘Yet true, nonetheless. You are shrewd, queen of Aegyptus, and clever, but your experience of war is extremely limited. I have fought Rome’s enemies now for three decades, from the sands of the south to the misty isles north of Gaul. The collateral damage the world suffers is one of the saddest parts of soldiering, yet it is a necessary evil if war must be contemplated. Cicero, just a few years ago, addressed a trial with the words “law falls silent in times of war”.’
The queen’s eyes narrowed. ‘Plato reminds us that if a city is good it will have a life of peace, but if evil, a life of war both within and without.’
Caesar chuckled. ‘Plato goes on to say that all cities ought to practise war not in times of war, but while they are at peace. And every city should take the field at least for one day in every month. But enough of these playful banterings. If you must direct your venom, daughter of the Ptolemies, do so at me. I gave Fronto direct orders to do what he must to secure the fleet. By extension it is therefore my order that saw your city burning. I will not have my officers questioned for doing their duty in an exemplary fashion.’
Fronto felt a strange swell of pride. It was easy these days to paint Caesar the military autocrat – much of Rome did so after all – but it was moments like this, when his care for his people rose above even international treaty, that reminded him why he had served the general all these years. Why he had come back even when he’d retired.
The queen gave Caesar that evil glare, then, and finished matters with ‘We will discuss this at length later.’
There had been something in their eyes as they remained locked that had carried an undercurrent that was most definitely not military, and Fronto had left the room wondering what the general’s wife back in Rome would think of it. He snorted. Caesar had been so devoted to war and politics this past decade, Calpurnia probably only saw him at festivals in the winter anyway. He tried not to admit to himself that the latter was also largely true of Lucilia and his self.
Now, as Fronto stood on the theatre seats and watched the golden glow in parts of the city, he found himself nagged again by notions that the general was in the queen’s chamber… ‘cementing’ their alliance.
He gave a childish guffaw that drew Galronus’ frown.
‘Something is funny?’
‘No. Not really.’
They peered off instead over the stage and the scaenae at the dark harbour beyond and the blaze of the Pharos lighthouse. Lights twinkled in the fort, and one small beacon burned at the end of the wall-dock that jutted out into the water, a constant signal for the palace confirming that the Sixth were still in command of the fort. Ships had been back and forth in the dusk delivering supplies and changes of men, until the dark made spotting the lurking dangers beneath the harbour’s northeast waters impossible to see and safely avoid.
They controlled the harbour, but the enemy had learned of their small victory and had already begun to move against it. They had seized control of the Heptastadion that led to the island and begun to deploy units there, threatening that fort. In response, the cohort had worked through the evening to strengthen the land-facing walls and to dig a trench and lilia pits before it. They intended to hold out. Sooner or later the Roman forces would be required to move out from there and secure the island. If they could take the whole of Pharos and then the Heptastadion, they would truly control the harbour, and the long pier would be easier to defend than one end of an island anyway.
Still, there was stalemate now. The enemy had tried assaulting the redoubt for an hour or so, but their losses had been grievous enough that their commanders had soon pulled them back. Now Achillas and his men sat glowering at the walls that contained their king and queen, while the rest of the army either secured the approach to Pharos or fought the fire in the city.
Peace would reign at least through the night. Very likely both sides would now settle into watching one another and sizing each other up while they waited for some change that gave them an advantage and broke the stalemate. Both sides would have a breather.
A clearing of throat made them both turn to see Salvius Cursor strolling around the seats towards them.
‘Salvius, taking the night air?’
‘A little smoke-filled for me,’ the tribune replied with a trace of acid, but broke into an easy smile in the end. ‘No, I thought I’d report in. Been touring the defences. From Isis to Serapis is being constantly upgraded, and I wouldn’t fancy the chances of getting through there even with Roman engineers. From Serapis around to the port we’re leaving for now, as the canal gives that section an extra layer of defence. And from Isis to the coast of the Jewish quarter the enemy have kept three streets back, so Cassius has been having parties sortie from the lines and pull down the closest buildings. They’ve created a two hundred pace kill zone now, and every missile weapon he can lay his hands on is being placed there. It’s the acropolis’ weakest spot, but now it’s becoming a nasty proposition.’
Fronto nodded with satisfaction. Sometimes he forgot that Salvius had spent time in the city in his murky past under Pompey, and his easy familiarity with Alexandria was useful now.
‘Cassius needs to be careful tearing down Alexandria. The queen might take offence.’
Salvius Cursor snorted. ‘She has already made her feelings known. The tension between her and Cassius you could cut with a knife. Caesar is having his work cut out mediating.’
‘He’ll come down in favour of the queen,’ Fronto said quietly.
‘Because he’s bedding her,’ Salvius murmured.
Fronto blinked, turning his worried face again on the tribune. ‘Careful with words like that, man.’
‘It’s hardly a secret. Half the palace slaves talk about it. His room is hardly ever slept in now.’
‘I meant he will come down on the queen’s side for political and military expediency.’
Salvius laughed. ‘And because he’s bedding her.’
Fronto pictured Cassius’ face if the general sided with the queen against him, and over a very similar situation to that in which he had supported Fronto against her. The man needed to be more careful there. Cassius had only recently been an enemy, avidly supporting Pompey. His move to Caesar’s side was still fresh, and Fronto could quite imagine sufficient offence pushing him back. He resolved to speak to them both soon.
‘So we are secure for now?’
‘I believe so. Settle in for the long wait.’
* * *
In the event, the wait was not long. The following tw
o days saw only more of the same, with both sides settling in, but on the kalends of November, the palace broke out in an uproar. By the time Fronto arrived at the hall Caesar and the queen used as their headquarters, a junior centurion was standing with his head hung low, hiding a sheepish look.
Roman officers stood around, including both Salvius Cursor and his brother, Cassius, Hirtius and Carfulenus. Fronto shuffled closer to Salvius Cursor who seemed to be permanently abreast of all news in Alexandria, but before he could enquire, Caesar called the room to silence.
‘Report,’ he demanded of the centurion, who straightened, trying to bolt an expression of contrition threaded with competence upon his face. It didn’t quite work.
‘General, it is my duty to report that the princess Arsinoë defected to the enemy force in the early hours of this morning.’
‘Defected?’ Caesar said, a dangerous edge to his tone.
‘It is the opinion of one of her manservants, who was arrested thereafter, that the young princess believes her older siblings to be incapable of rule while they are at war and both locked here in the palace. It seems she sees the army of general Achillas as the tool of command and intends to claim the throne of Aegyptus over both the current king and queen by the simple expedient of controlling the army.’
‘Gods, but these Aegyptian women,’ grunted Cassius, casting a nasty look at the queen.
Cleopatra stepped to the fore directly before the centurion. ‘I am led to believe that the Roman army, considered by some to be invincible, and who have held a force ten times their size at bay in this city, who have created an uncrossable fortification that even my elite units dare not assault, managed to leave a hole in their defences sizeable enough for my heifer of a sister to slip through, with an armed escort? Were your soldiers all asleep, Centurion?’
The officer winced. ‘With respect, your Majesty, many of the ordinary soldiers are more than a little baffled by who are their allies and who their enemies. They often wonder why the royal army besieges the city when both the king and queen are in the palace with us. They don’t know whether your royal brother is friend or foe. They cannot understand why Achillas is in command of the army yet claims Ptolemy’s authority in it. And into this enters a third sibling of whom they know little. They had no idea that they were supposed to stop her. She simply demanded egress and, with her royal status, an entourage and a guard, it all seemed so official that my men saw no reason to stop her.’
Cleopatra’s face changed colour a little, her eyes flashing. She turned sharply on Caesar.
‘So now my sister betrays us all and lends legitimacy to Achillas. Your men are a joke, Consul.’
Caesar took the bile with surprising calm, shrugging. ‘Answer me this, Queen of Aegyptus: are you saddened to lose your sister?’
‘She could be boiled in a pot of asps for all I care.’
‘And is she a tactical genius?’
‘She has no experience of war at all. She is less than twenty summers old and has lived in the luxury of palaces all her life.’
‘And will she bring any real value to Achillas?’
The queen’s eyes narrowed, and Caesar smiled. ‘Of course not,’ he said quietly. ‘She will bring nothing to our enemy. The army will likely not see her as a better patron than her brother, and the general already claims royal authority. All she will do is sow discord among our enemies. Had I known she planned this, I might well have encouraged her to go, in fact. She is of more use to us there than here.’
The queen continued to glower. ‘This kind of thing cannot be repeated. I want this man executed for his failings.’
‘If I executed every officer who was confused by the Aegyptian royalty this winter, we’d cull half the army, my Queen. Remember that much of great rule lies in appropriate clemency.’ He turned to the centurion. ‘Have you disciplined the men who did this without seeking the authority of a senior officer?’
The centurion nodded vigorously. ‘Of course, General. The four men on gate duty have been flogged and demoted.’
‘Then I think the matter should be drawn to a close.’
The queen was not calm yet though. ‘I am growing tired of your men, Caesar. Men who burn my library, tear down my city and free my sister.’
Her gaze darted round the room, pinning Fronto, Cassius and the centurion, Fronto managed to maintain his calm, and the centurion kept his face lowered, but Cassius glared back at her, lip curling. Trouble was brewing in that quarter.
The queen turned, sweeping her flowing gown into her arm and making to exit as Apollodorus fell in at her shoulder, when the door opened and the king entered. Three men tried to hurry ahead and blast horns but they managed only a brief toot before the enraged young king stomped petulantly into the centre, throwing his sister an acidic look.
‘Am I to understand that my sister – not this harpy, but the young and stupid one – has managed to slip through your lines and usurp me, suborning my army?’
Cleopatra paused on her way to the door to throw her brother – her husband too, Fronto remembered with a start – the most vicious look she could muster. ‘Usurp us, dear brother.’
He sneered at her and then proceeded to ignore her further, turning back to Caesar.
‘What have you to say for yourself, Roman?’
Caesar’s brow altered just slightly. Fronto knew the look and was tempted to stand back. The general took three steps, hands clasped behind his back, until he was so close to Ptolemy that the king actually quivered and retreated a pace. His bodyguards hurried forwards but stopped as half a dozen Romans drew their blades threateningly.
‘Ptolemy the Thirteenth, Theos Philopator, both of which I might dispute, and king of Aegyptus, welcome. I will remind you at the outset that your good health, and one might say even your continued existence, are owed solely to Rome’s close ties with your father, and my great patience in attempting to reconcile your fractious land under a safe and peaceful rule. When the time comes that the difficulties you present outweigh both the value you bring to a potential peace and my strained patience, that health and, yes, existence, become much more questionable. Do I make myself clear?’
The general was tall and lean, given to military dress at the best of times, and his receding grey hair, combined with his prominent cheekbones and strong nose, gave him something of the look of a hunting eagle. The effect when he towered over the youthful and pampered king was profound. Fronto almost laughed as Ptolemy backed away nervously.
‘What… what do you intend to do about Arsinoë?’
Caesar shrugged. ‘Nothing whatsoever. I pray that she is little more than a painful boil on Achillas’ backside, and I suspect I am close to the truth there. She stands about as much chance of rousing the Aegyptian army to greater threat and replacing Achillas as its commander as… well, as you do.’
The insult was cutting and hung in the air like an acrid smell.
Ptolemy trembled, though whether through anger or fear no one could tell. Both, Fronto suspected. After a long pause, Ptolemy subsided and stepped back again. ‘When will you acknowledge my position and send me back to the army. If you did so, I would be able to end this.’
Caesar sighed. ‘Releasing you to Achillas would almost certainly have one of two results. Either you would immediately renege on any oath made here and revive your conflict with your sister, dragging this entire thing out further, or Achillas would no longer be able to claim your authority, you would be an impediment to him, and he would remove you before continuing to make war in the hope of seizing control himself. You will remain here in the safety of the palace until we are in a strong enough position to impose a proper rule of law and remove Achillas from the equation. Now go. You are dismissed, your Majesty.’
Ptolemy’s lip twitched but he backed from the room, his musicians giving a desultory tootle before following him and his bodyguards. It was only as he disappeared that Fronto realised the queen had also gone.
‘Keeping the Aegyptian rulin
g bloodline so pure does have the unfortunate side effect of producing the odd runt,’ Caesar said bitterly as the door closed. The majority of the officers laughed, but Cassius stepped forwards.
‘Caesar, given that we are as alone now as we are likely to be, I must needs point out a few truths to you.’
‘Oh?’
‘I know that you favour the queen, and all the world can see why, but I fear you are becoming lax in your care here. Cleopatra might seem to support you, but that will only remain true as long as you are of use to her here. Do not underestimate her potential for duplicity. And her brother might be a young fool with more bravado than brains, but he is also bitter and ambitious. Add into that mix that both have servants and slaves loyal beyond even death in this palace, and you can picture a bubbling cauldron of peril. I would ask that you remember that your focus here is the will of Rome and your strongest support comes from we Roman officers.’
Caesar turned an irritated look on him.
‘Is this because I would not support you tearing down buildings when the queen berated you, Cassius?’
Fronto winced. Don’t poke that bear, Caesar.
Cassius bridled. ‘I did what any sensible leader would, and would do it again. And any commander who was not under the perfumed spell of a witch queen would agree.’
Fronto clenched his teeth, waiting for Caesar to burst into a fury over that. Instead the general glared coldly at Cassius. ‘Be careful, old friend. Men who served Pompey so avidly can rely upon my clemency and support only as long as they stand by my side.’
‘I do stand by your side, Caesar,’ snapped Cassius. ‘That you cannot see it only makes my point for me. And my meaning is that you are a target for Aegyptian malevolence, and will only become more so as time goes on. Watch your back in this palace.’ He swept an arm around the room. ‘And that goes for all of us to a lesser extent. Watch your backs. Sleep with an eye open. Have someone taste your food. Be vigilant.’
With that he bowed his head curtly to Caesar and strode towards the exit.
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