Each holding their heavy iron shield in front of them, they lunged and parried with their gleaming swords in practice for the battles they knew were coming. It felt like my heart stopped beating as I watched.
Each of them was beautiful in his own unique way. Marc Antony was large and stout, his dark curly hair tumbling across his forehead as he bent forward and then back, splashing in the shallow water. His large biceps bulged and flexed as he hefted his shield to block Hasani’s deft blows. Antony’s profile was distinct and I recognized him immediately. But he did not hold my attention. That was captured by Hasani.
Hasani was tall and strong, his silky black hair gathered at the nape of his neck in his usual style. His dark brow was furrowed in concentration, emphasizing his strong features. His teeth gleamed in the sunlight as he grinned at his opponent, laughing as he deflected Antony’s heaving blows. His muscular thighs flexed as he lunged and I gasped at his obvious strength. Modern girls were missing out- there was nothing sexier than this. I made a conscious effort to begin breathing again.
“Look at them,” Cleopatra murmured. “So brave and strong. They are training to fight for me, Charmian, and I will fail them, I can feel it. I feel it in my heart that I am going to fail Egypt.”
Her voice was both heartbreaking and heartbroken, and sadness welled up in me at the sound of it. Never, in our entire lives, had I heard Queen Cleopatra be anything but confident and strong. She had never doubted herself before.
“They have no idea of their fate. They’re like lambs led to slaughter…” her voice caught and a tear escaped from the corner of her eye and slid down her smooth cheek. I wiped it away gently, careful not to smudge her eye makeup.
“Don’t think about it right now,” I insisted. “You have good reasons for the decisions that you are making. If you don’t negotiate with Octavian, he will crush Egypt with Roman forces. If you tell Antony about the negotiations, he will want to stop it- he will never agree to surrender. You know that. You have made the right decision, my queen.”
My role as Keeper had come back to me fluidly, easily. I knew her current course of action was the right one, but I had to swallow hard, because her decisions were going to be the death of the men we loved. I had seen it.
Cleopatra was formulating a back-up plan. Even though she fully intended to fight, she was secretly arranging a surrender of her forces to Octavian in exchange for leniency for her children just in case it started to look as though we would lose. In such a case, we both knew that Antony would never give up. He was too Roman, too proud. He would fight to the death- and Hasani would be at his side. It would be unbearable.
Without intending to, my thoughts returned to the Roman soldier who had sneaked up behind Hasani and thrust the sword in his back. I cringed and then gazed restlessly out at the blue water until Cleopatra’s whisper interrupted my musings.
“Let us prepare for breakfast, sweet. I will need you to re-apply my cosmetics. I just don’t do it as well as you.”
I nodded and silently followed her back into her bedchambers. As I smoothed the thick kohl over her eyelid, I knew that I had to figure out some way to spend more time with Ahmose, so that I could get myself out of this mess. I opened my mouth, then hesitated. Her obsidian eyes met mine in the mirror.
“What is it, Charmian? You wish to say something. Go ahead,” she encouraged. “You know that I value your opinion.”
I hesitated again. Would this change anything? But the birthmark on my wrist was not aching, a clear indication that I was not making a mistake.
At my hesitation, she smiled.
“Are you thinking to tell me something about Hasani? I’m not sure if I want to hear it, love. Or wait. Perhaps I do. Entertain me. Impress me. Tell me things about Hasani that no one else knows.”
She waited in anticipation and I rolled my eyes.
“No, not about Hasani. He is the same as always. Perfect.”
I smiled lightly and it was her turn to roll her eyes. But even as she did, I knew that she shared my opinion. There was a reason that Hasani was Antony’s favored general. He was as loyal as the day was long and never, ever failed. Cleopatra could depend on him for anything and she knew it.
“Alright then. If you are not going to entertain me with Hasani’s lovemaking prowess, then what is it?” I could see on her face that she was disappointed and I laughed.
“It’s something else… just an idea, my queen.” I continued quickly before I could change my mind.
“The Bast priest, Ahmose, came to see me about the renovation of the Bastet Temple.”
“And?” She was surprised. As she should be. The worship of the cat goddess Bast had subsided gradually throughout the years. Cats were still sacred, of course, but Bast’s popularity had faded. The project to build a bigger temple had been placed on the back burner a couple of years ago.
“Ahmose had an intriguing idea. He’s concerned about the morale of the people with this constant fear of Roman invasion lingering over our heads. He proposes that we leave the temple for Bast in its present location, but place renewed interest in finishing the new temple. He would like to use it as a temple for the Phoenix, similar to the current temple in Heliopolis. And I, for one, don’t think it is a bad idea.”
I mentally patted myself on the back for my quick thinking and made a mental note to fill Ahmose in on his idea ASAP.
“Why do you like this idea?” She turned to me, puzzled. “Convince me.”
“Well, everyone knows that the Phoenix is a symbol of rebirth and eternal life. Let us emphasize to the people that the spirit of Alexandria will live on, no matter what happens with Rome. Besides, it would be a positive distraction for the city,” I suggested. And it would allow me to spend quite a bit of time with Ahmose without being questioned.
Cleopatra leaned back in her seat and considered. She nibbled her lip with her teeth as she thought, unconsciously kicking her heel against her vanity bench.
“I hate to spend a large amount of gold right now,” she admitted. “We don’t know what is coming. I know that I will need to build more ships. War is expensive, Charmian. But still…” She trailed off and absently fiddled with jeweled hair clips laying in front of her.
“Still. You have a valid point. It would be good for the morale of the people.”
She nodded her head. “Yes, Charmian. Go ahead and tell the priest that he may proceed with the renovations. However, I wish to be consulted with the plans.”
She turned back to her mirror dismissively, the matter settled and out of her mind. The gentle wind blew around us and I took a deep perfumed breath.
There was no pollution from factories or cars here. Palm trees and native flowers adorned the land below the palace and the incense from within created a distinct scent, in combination with the gentle breeze that swept in from the sea. I couldn’t believe I had ever forgotten this smell. Just as I couldn’t believe I had ever forgotten the fear and desolation that we had felt here…it was crushing. It rested heavily upon my heart now, as if it had been there all along.
“Of course, Cleopatra,” I answered. “He will be thrilled with your kindness.”
Cleopatra picked up a silver hairbrush and pulled it through her long hair. Historians had wondered for hundreds of years about her true description. They had theorized that she was Greek and not Egyptian at all, although they could never prove it. The Romans had ordered all likenesses of her destroyed after her death. Of course, I now remembered that the historians were correct.
Like every Ptolemy before her, Cleopatra was Greek. She had inherited the distinct Ptolemaic nose, clear proof of her distinguished blood-line. Her eyes were so dark that they were almost black, but contrary to hundreds of modern depictions, her hair was not.
It was a thick and glossy chestnut brown, tumbling down to the small of her back. She chose to wear shiny black wigs in an effort to appear more Egyptian, making her more relatable to her Egyptian subjects. Among eight other languages, she spoke fluen
t Egyptian for the same reason. She was shockingly intelligent.
She rose from her little bench and opened a mother-of-pearl wardrobe directly to our left. It was filled with black wigs of every length and type. She stood in front of them, debating which one to choose, before she finally lifted down a shoulder length glossy black wig with bangs and handed it to me.
“This one, I think,” she murmured, seating herself at her vanity once again. The light from the balcony shone directly into the room, gleaming against her oil infused skin.
I quickly twisted her hair into a simple bun at the nape of her neck and deftly worked her wig down over it. From a nearby jewelry chest, I chose several golden chains and layered them around her crown. Whenever she moved, they tinkled lightly. It was a detail she enjoyed.
Leaning back, I examined the finished product. As normal, she was beautiful. Her perfume was delicate, yet distinct. No one else in the world smelled like she did- she had perfume makers custom make her scent. Her slender arms were adorned with jeweled arm cuffs, her ears were decorated with large golden earrings. Her obsidian eyes, as black as night, met mine in the mirror. Hers were twinkling.
“Do I pass inspection, then?” she laughed.
“You always do, my queen,” I smiled. “Thanks in no small part to me.”
“As I said, you’re just as cheeky as ten people put together, sweetling,” she answered. But she smiled and stood, linking her arm with mine.
“Come, Charmian. I wish to have a large breakfast, to entirely gorge myself in a very unladylike manner on roasted fish and cinnamon toasted pecans. But first, I have a mind to see my Lotus blossoms. They are lovely this time of year.”
I shook my head. Cleopatra, like almost every other woman on the face of the planet, past and present, was a stress eater. She would eat herself silly and then moan about her stomach ache and wonder why I had allowed her to act in such an un-queenly way. But at this point, it really didn’t matter. We would be dead long before she had time to get fat from the bad habit, something that was not a comforting thought.
I took her arm and we walked from her opulent bedroom. She was right. The royal gardens were absolutely beautiful this time of year.
CHAPTER FIVE
We wound our way through the decadent palace, nodding at a pair of house-servants as we encountered them on the wide marble staircase. Regardless of the stairs, they immediately dropped to the floor, their backs hunched as their foreheads pressed firmly to the stone. Both women kept their dark eyes downward until Cleopatra had passed.
I had forgotten the level of deference shown to the queen. My western upbringing as Macy reared its head and I suddenly found the behavior insanely hilarious since I had been away from it for so long. They literally stuck their faces into the floor just because Cleopatra walked by. It was… crazy. And it struck me as hilarious.
Cleopatra glanced sharply at me as I chuckled.
“What?” She demanded, looking around us for the source of the joke.
“Nothing, my queen,” I smirked. “There is just a lot of pomp and ridiculousness involved in walking with you. I’ve never really thought of it before.”
She elbowed me in the ribs as we both giggled. I looked over my shoulder to find the two servant women picking themselves off the floor, making me laugh all the harder.
We swallowed our giggles as we worked our way through the massive rooms and winding halls, finally emerging onto an elaborate stone courtyard behind the palace. It had taken us at least fifteen minutes to work our way across through the sprawling building, but the scenery surrounding us now was well worth the walk.
The gentle breeze lifted my hair away from my forehead and I inhaled the floral scent in the air as it drifted towards us over the magnificent royal gardens. Bright blue Lotus flowers drifted serenely in small rock-lined ponds, while white chickpeas softly swayed in the breeze intertwined with intricately sculpted shrubbery. Cleopatra bent and picked a Lotus blossom, tucking it behind her ear as I stood in the serene garden and watched.
The scent here was intoxicating. The heavy, sweet scent of Jasmine hung thickly in the air as we walked past the yellow blossoms lining the walkway. It was no wonder that I smelled jasmine when I first picked up the bloodstone. The air here was pregnant with it.
We continued on past two silent Nubian guards and a bronze statue of Isis, my bare feet padding lightly on the stone pathways. I had to admit, I felt incredibly elegant and sexy dressed the way I was…now that I had gotten used to it once again.
My barely there tunic fluttered lightly in the wind, the soft breeze permeating the thin fabric and brushing against my skin. I felt the urge to release the elaborate up-do wrapped in thin gold chains on top of my head so that I could let my hair blow freely in the wind, but resisted. I needed to blend, not draw attention to myself.
As the breeze blew over me, I caught a whiff of my own scent and pulled my wrist to my nose so that I could inhale it. One of the many things the Egyptians had gotten right was their mastery of perfume oils. I had never smelled as feminine as I did right now. It was subtle, soft and exquisite. I felt sexier than I ever had.
Cleopatra walked to the short stone wall overlooking the bay of Alexandria. The sea was pristine and tranquil, the blue water lapping gently against the shore. She tilted her head back, closing her eyes as the sun bathed her face in its warm glow. I crossed the terrace to stand at her side, enjoying the strikingly familiar scent. Lotus blossoms, jasmine, sea salt. No wonder I loved the water. I had lived by the sea.
After a minute, Cleopatra opened her eyes, staring down at the city below.
“Charmian, this is the most beautiful place in all the world. Don’t you agree? It saddens me to think that it might fall under Roman rule.”
Her almond-shaped eyes welled up as she stared at the statue of her father guarding the palace at the base. I had to share in her despair, although she didn’t know the half of it.
Eventually, everything we were looking at would be sitting at the bottom of the bay. An earthquake would rumble through Alexandria and the entire city would slide right off into the sea. On the bright side, the silt would at least preserve all of Cleopatra’s beautiful things from the sea water. Archeologists and scientists would comb the ocean’s floor, hoping to learn more of the mysterious Queen Cleopatra.
“Don’t mind me,” she murmured, reaching out to grasp my hand. “I’m just feeling sorry for myself. I have worked my entire life to skillfully rule Egypt- to reduce our debt, stabilize our relations with Rome and quell civil unrest. And now it all seems out of my control.” She swallowed hard and gazed back out at the water as she composed herself.
I hated to see her in such distress. She was right- she had spent her entire life working for the good of Egypt. Her end was horribly unfair. I doubted that there were many who would argue against that fact.
“Cleopatra, it is true… Rome is closing in on us and it seems impossible to bear. But you are strong and resilient. Everything will work out the way it is meant to.”
Luckily for me, I didn’t have to explain exactly what that entailed—our untimely and tragic deaths. Although, even if I had told her, I was sure she would find happiness in the fact that both she and Marc Antony’s deaths had become legendary. She was dramatic to the core.
“Thank you, Charmian. As always, you are too good to me.”
She smiled gently and squeezed my hand again before gazing absently out at the horizon once more. Her expression changed and I turned my head to follow her line of vision.
Antony and Hasani were still sparring on the edge of the water. I knew she was again thinking of how she would fail them.
“Don’t think about it right now,” I insisted. “Let’s just…spend time with them, breathe them in… and love them enough to last for eternity no matter what comes later. Can we do that?”
Cleopatra nodded curtly, deciding for once not to press me. We walked quickly down the two hundred stone steps that led to the beach. Tiny stone
s and sand tumbled off each step as we walked, but we were walking so quickly that we barely even noticed. Cleopatra nodded to the two guards stationed at the staircase as we stepped from the bottom stair onto the sandy shore, but her eyes were focused on the two magnificent men twenty yards away, as were mine.
As we approached, Hasani’s eyes met mine and he stopped abruptly in mid-swing, grinning broadly. His beauty took my breath away. Literally. I had to keep reminding myself to breathe. And to breathe again. And again.
As a member of the Ptolemaic Guard, he was not a full-blooded Egyptian. He was descended from a long line of Greeks that had served the Ptolemy family for generations. His mother was Egyptian however, and he had inherited the best traits of both of his parents. What had resulted in him was a man that was too beautiful for words.
He quickly stuck his sword in the sand and knelt in deference to Cleopatra, his strong shoulders rippling as he crouched in the surf. The breeze floated in from the water, wafting over the two men. I inhaled their masculine scent- the musky, sweaty tang and felt a flood of warmth. I knew that smell. How had I ever forgotten it? How had I ever forgotten him? It was unfathomable.
“Hasani, please get out of the water.” Cleopatra grinned lightly at him, but she wasn’t looking at him. Her attention was focused on Antony. Antony was glaring at her insolently, but his eyes were twinkling warmly.
“By the Gods, woman! Don’t you know not to interrupt men when they are fighting?” he demanded. “Don’t you know we’re training to protect your kingdom?”
His voice was severe and his brow was furrowed, but in direct contradiction with his words and tone, he snaked out his arm and pulled her to him by her waist, smashing her against his metal breastplate.
Cleopatra seemed as small as a child compared to him and he kissed her lustfully, long and sound, before he spoke again. When they finally broke their embrace, she stared up at him, flustered. I can honestly say that the few times in Cleopatra’s life that I had ever seen her flustered… had been because of Marc Antony. No one on earth had ever unnerved her but him, not even her first love, Julius Caesar.
Every Last Kiss, Final Copy, June 30, 2011 Page 5
