The Memoirs of Cleopatra Part 112

"He told me that my fate-spirit, my daimon, was overshadowed when Octavian's was near," Antony remembered. Of course Olympos had reported it to me. "Well, you were right, old friend. Ever since Octavian landed in Greece . . ." His voice faded. "But for the six years before that, all was well. So, once we remove ourselves from here . . . ?"

It had turned into a question.

Hunefer was silent so long that Antony finally said, "We will will escape from here, won't we?" The pity of it!--reducing his wish for victory to mere escape. escape from here, won't we?" The pity of it!--reducing his wish for victory to mere escape.

"Part of you, yes," Hunefer said slowly. "Another part of you, you will leave here."

"Part of the army? Part of the navy?"

"The stars only say 'part of you,' " said Hunefer. "It is not clear."

"Part of--me?" he asked. "My body? My troops? Surely you can discern that!"

"He means the s.h.i.+ps," I said quickly. "The burnt s.h.i.+ps! That's a large part. And the oarsmen and soldiers who have died--they will remain here forever." I glared at Hunefer. Stupid old man! Whatever he saw, he should keep it to himself. It was too late now to do anything but harm.

"No, madam," he insisted. "That has already come to pa.s.s, and is done. This--"

Suddenly a great realization settled on me, of the way the G.o.ds tease us with partial revelations and veiled hints, knowing we will follow them to our doom. Then when we come to grief, they laugh. Such is their amus.e.m.e.nt. If we fail by following our own ideas, we can take some pride in that; we are not another's plaything. Even mistakes . . . miscalculations . . . misinformation mistakes . . . miscalculations . . . misinformation have an innate human bravery lacking in merely following supernatural direction. Let us win, or let us fail, but let it be all ours! I turned on him. have an innate human bravery lacking in merely following supernatural direction. Let us win, or let us fail, but let it be all ours! I turned on him.

"Enough. We will not hear." I linked my arm through Antony's. "Come. To our tent." I steered him away.

The heavy air in the tent oppressed like bondage. Flies were everywhere now; they must breed and double every night. Ugly black buzzing things, they plagued us, forcing us to sleep under nets. Even so, they woke us by diving against the cloth, as if they were arrows intent on piercing it.

The lurid red of the burning s.h.i.+ps making the tent walls glow, the attacking flies ... all seemed a foretaste of Hades.

"I remember a temple we came across in Parthia," Antony mumbled sleepily. "There's a G.o.d there, a G.o.d who commands legions of flies, I forget his name. . . . He's evil, causes swarms of flies to attack. . . ."

"You must have angered him, then," I said. "He must have followed you all the way from Parthia. You and your men."

I meant it to be funny, but what if it was true? There were veterans of Parthia here; were the flies particularly bad around them? I did feel plagued, pursued . . . there was something unnaturally h.e.l.lish in this place.

"Did you destroy his temple?" I asked.

"I ... I remember looking at the carvings. On our way back, perhaps . . . yes, I think we did, because archers were hiding in it, attacking us."

They had destroyed the fly-G.o.d's temple? I wished the answer had been otherwise.

"What was his name? Try to remember!" We could placate him, promise to build him a new temple, one in Alexandria. . . .

"I don't know," said Antony. "I never knew it would be important." He sat up on his elbows. "I don't think it's important now. Your imagination is playing tricks on you. There are always flies in summer wherever an army camps. Forget this G.o.d, this. . ." He laughed. "Asmodeus. That was his name."

Asmodeus. I had heard the name; one of those G.o.ds from farther east, where they seemed to breed vicious ones like the Ma and Kali. I would see to it that amends were made--after we escaped.

Antony turned over, and from his breathing I knew he slept. But I lay there, imagining I could feel the heat from the flames, tormented by the flies waiting outside, crawling on the curtain. I shuddered.

While Antony slept, I felt all the G.o.ds fighting overhead. I wished Caesar would appear and scatter them, give us some sign on the eve of this battle, as he had at Philippi. But I felt abandoned by him, as if he had lost interest in our affairs. Perhaps that meant he was a true G.o.d now; nothing left of the mortal, not even affections.

And Antony, all too mortal, slept on.

Early in the morning Canidius came to our tent and told us: Dellius had deserted to Octavian.

Still groggy from the night, Antony shook his head. His eyes were dull. "Gone, then," was all he said. He sighed as if an extra sack had just been loaded on his bent back. "And he knows all our plans."

I was charged with anger, sizzling as if I had been hit by a spark of lightning. He had meant to leave, but had waited until after the council of war, so he could bring valuable information to Octavian. I knew it as certainly as if he had left a confession. "The perfidious traitor!" I cried.

"Now Octavian knows everything," Antony said. "Even my secret councils of war are exposed to him." He paused. "Dellius. My helper, my companion . . ." He turned to me. "I even sent him to bring you to me. Long ago."

I was afraid he was going to break down in front of Canidius. "Don't remember! Don't remember!" I cried. "Blank him out, tear him out of your memories, never think of him, or recall a single word. He must cease to exist--no, never have have existed." existed."

"And when he returned, and told me what you had said, that you wouldn't come to Tarsus, why, then I--"

"I said don't think about him!" I shouted, ignoring Canidius. "And don't soil your memories of me by attaching him to them!"

"Canidius," said Antony, with no emotion at all, "you may announce that I will replace his command with one of the tribunes." He gave a wavering smile. "It is of no matter. No matter. Now he can write an account of the war for his new master. I wanted no accounts. No, no accounts." He clapped his arm around Canidius's shoulder and walked to the door of the tent with him.

Bright light streamed in as they pulled open the flap. I could see the smoke still rising from the dead s.h.i.+ps, inky smudges against the bright blue sky.

"My friend," Antony said, dropping the flap back, and turning around. "My friend is gone." He paused. "I do not think I will send his trunks after him."

Chapter 76.

"Is even Zeus against us?" Antony cried as he saw the flash that signaled lightning from the west. A black bank of clouds had appeared on the usually clear horizon, and even as we watched it grew higher, spreading out like a stain.

The remaining s.h.i.+ps--some two hundred thirty of them, including sixty of Egypt's pride--were in the process of being loaded with legionaries, armed and ready for fighting. We had ordered sails taken aboard, which had caused alarm and confusion among the men as well as the commanders. Sails are never used in fighting; they hinder movement and take up valuable room. So, late the night before, Antony had gathered a few officers together for the last time, and revealed our plan. Even Dellius had not been privy to it; had he suspected there would be further discussions, he would doubtless have delayed his departure.

The plan was this: We wished to escape with as many s.h.i.+ps as possible and sail for Egypt, using the afternoon breeze to push us south. It was simple but not easy--a frustrating combination. In order to round the huge bulk of Leucas safely, we would have to be far out to sea before the wind could fill our sails from astern and take us on our way. And in order to get there, we would have to fight our way out past Agrippa's blockade.

The worst thing that could happen was if Agrippa insisted on fighting midway out to sea, where he could attack us before we could make use of the breeze; the best, if we could trick him into thinking he was luring us us far out to sea, letting us choose the battle site. His numerical superiority meant that he would naturally favor plenty of room in which to maneuver, which meant going a long way out to sea. But as soon as we got far enough out, we could raise our sails and make away. Without sails, they could never catch us. Oarsmen alone could not keep up for long. far out to sea, letting us choose the battle site. His numerical superiority meant that he would naturally favor plenty of room in which to maneuver, which meant going a long way out to sea. But as soon as we got far enough out, we could raise our sails and make away. Without sails, they could never catch us. Oarsmen alone could not keep up for long.

Unfortunately it was impossible to hide the fact that we were taking the sails on board. Agrippa would probably suspect, and try to disable us before we could get away.

"We'll divide into four squadrons," said Antony. "A line of three in front, with the Egyptian s.h.i.+ps behind them. Publicola and I will command the right wing, Sosius the left. The center will be commanded by Insteius and Octavius, and I expect it to thin out and open a gap in the middle as the action progresses, allowing the Egyptian s.h.i.+ps to sail through into open water. Once they are clear, the rest of us should disengage and follow as soon as possible."

"We can a.s.sume Agrippa will command his left wing?" asked Octavius.

"We can a.s.sume nothing," said Antony, "but it is a logical guess. Now our left wing, under Sosius, is the one that will have to get farthest out before it can turn south, because it starts off nearest to Leucas. Therefore, I must admit here and now, it has the least chance of escape. So it must prepare for the heaviest fighting."

"On the other hand, if we could lure Agrippa's s.h.i.+ps into the very constricted waters of the gulf, that's where we could prevail. His ability to maneuver would be completely lost there," said Sosius.

"Another battle of Salamis, with Agrippa playing Xerxes? Wishful thinking," said Antony. "Agrippa knows his naval history all too well. No, he'll stand out to sea and wait. But we mustn't issue out until almost noon, because if we arrive before the breeze, we are utterly lost."

"If the battle took place in an area closer to sh.o.r.e, where Agrippa could not separate our s.h.i.+ps, we might beat them," said Sosius. "Our s.h.i.+ps are bigger, after all."

"But there are fewer of them," Antony pointed out. "I estimate he has more than four hundred fighting s.h.i.+ps to our two hundred."

"And the soldiers to man the s.h.i.+ps?" asked Insteius.

"We will take twenty thousand," said Antony. "Five legions. Plus two thousand slingers and archers. That means about a hundred men per s.h.i.+p--a good fighting ratio. That leaves fifty thousand men under Canidius still on land."

It had seemed a good, rational plan, with the best chance of extricating us from the prison of Actium. We could not expect to deliver all the s.h.i.+ps, but a goodly number was better than nothing. The Egyptian s.h.i.+ps, along with the remaining merchant vessels, would avoid the fighting if possible, keeping well behind the rest.

It was dark when we carried the treasure chests aboard the flags.h.i.+p, so Octavian could not see. I had packed the jewels, the gold plate, carefully, wondering why I had brought them in the first place. Once I had thought them important to have on hand, for gold, emeralds, lapis, and pearls were always negotiable, but that supposed there was a market for them. As it turned out, the flies did not care, the rot-worm could not be bought off.

And now this--a violent storm on the very day we had planned to embark.

Antony stood staring at it, as it galloped toward us. "No rain for weeks! Truly, Zeus hates us!"

The men had halted on the gangplanks. On board, the sailors and soldiers gripped the rails and waited.

"Perhaps it's a stroke of luck for us," I said. "Can we make a dash for it, using the storm to keep Agrippa in place? Didn't you use a storm to slip past Pompey's blockade once?"

"Ah yes. But this is the one direction where we are helpless--the storm will blow right in our faces, from exactly the quarter where we wish to go. No, we must wait."

He began signaling to the men.

Once more to wait.

The storm broke, as if it had stored up rain and wind all summer, sucking it up from the fetid marshes and holding it in reserve somewhere. Torrents of rain poured down, flooding the tents and paths, and a fierce west wind tried to force the s.h.i.+ps back to the very head of the gulf.

It kept on for four days and nights. Through the gray curtain of rain I could see Agrippa's s.h.i.+ps being continually rowed in place to keep them from being blown in against the sh.o.r.e. Did they never tire? But after four days, surely they would be exhausted, whereas our oarsmen were spared that, given the protection of the gulf. We should start out with an advantage. I pointed this out to Antony, who seemed so determined that the G.o.ds were against us.

"Perhaps Zeus sent this just to tire Octavian out," I said.

"Perhaps," was all he replied.

"Look! Look!"

On the second of September, Antony stood at the door of the tent, pointing to the clear sky.

"Today is the day." He turned to me and held out his hand. "Today."

As we watched in the dawn, streams of soldiers filed past on their way to the gangplanks. They seemed cheerful, glad to be moving at last. Some looked younger and healthier than others; I suspected that some ailing ones had begged to be allowed to go on the s.h.i.+ps, and been yielded a place by stronger men.

One older veteran stopped in his tracks and broke out of line.

"Come back here!" ordered the officer, but the man ignored him and strode toward Antony.

He trotted up to us and grabbed Antony's arm. "Imperator!" he said. "Think again! Don't do this!"

Although Antony was used to considerable familiarity from his men, this annoyed him. It was neither the time nor the place.

"Back in line, soldier," he said shortly, trying to detach the man's fingers.

"Don't you remember me, Imperator?" the man said. He had lost one eye.

Antony stared at him. "No," he said frankly.

"I was with you in Parthia. You came to me at the field hospital, with the Queen. Remember? Remember?"

He had been one of a hundred that Antony had visited; how could he possibly remember him? Yet such had been Antony's concern at the time that the man imagined he had stood out from all the rest.

"I told you then that I had ten years left of service"--the man was determined that Antony would remember that very brief conversation--"and that I had served two years with Caesar himself. I am from Campania."

"Yes . . . good soldiers there," Antony agreed, still trying to remove the hand.

"Now it's only five years I have left. But I have seen many campaigns, and all on land. Don't do it! Don't fight by sea!"

Antony seemed actually to remember the man, at last. "Oh yes . . . you were with Gallus. In the retreat, that's where you lost your eye."

"Yes! Yes!" He pointed to his eye. "Don't disdain this wound of mine! I got it fighting on land. And that's where we should be fighting today! Sir, please!"

Antony succeeded in detaching his gripping hand. "Good soldier, I appreciate your concern," he finally said. "But you must obey orders." He pointed to the line of soldiers boarding the s.h.i.+p. "Return to your company."

For a moment I thought the man was going to throw himself at Antony's feet and refuse to move. But he just squared his shoulders, looked sadly at us with his one remaining eye, and obeyed.

For safety, the senators were boarded on the Egyptian s.h.i.+ps, which were not expected to see action. Antony was rowed in a small boat around the fleet, where he addressed his men for the last time, exhorting them to be brave and follow the plan to the best of their ability.

"And this shall be for your glory," he cried, "that you can tell your sons you were with Antony at Actium." His golden voice seemed magnified in richness by the water, as he stood in the rocking little boat, his helmet off. The sun touched his hair and made him seem, just for that moment, to be the very young Antony who had first ridden into Alexandria.

Last he was rowed alongside my flags.h.i.+p and came on board. I wished I could have had a moment alone with him to say farewell. But the time for that was past.

In my eyes his oddly youthful appearance remained, even as he approached and laid his hands on my shoulders, in full view of the crew and soldiers and senators.

"Keep yourself safe, until we meet at Taenarum," he said. That was where we had agreed all the escaping s.h.i.+ps should gather, on the southernmost point of Greece. "May all the G.o.ds protect you."

"And you," I said.

It seemed so little to say, but what else was there? Aside from my moving my hands up to cover his, we did not touch. No embrace, no kiss, almost as if we were afraid to. And perhaps we were; it would cause too much anguish.

Then our hands fell away, and we parted. He would board his own flags.h.i.+p, already waiting on the right wing, and it would begin.

The battle of Actium, the battle for Actium, the battle to escape Actium, call it what you will, it must begin. And if the right wing took too much battering, it might well be sent to the bottom, while we looked on helplessly from behind.

I wanted to hurry after him, be rowed to his s.h.i.+p and face whatever awaited him. The separation was agony; had I not been a queen, it would not be necessary. But I had my own duties, my own obligations, and could not desert my post. I owed it to Egypt to survive and return, to build bulwarks against Octavian's hunger to annex us for as long as possible, in case Antony, my true bulwark, fell. ...

No. It was too dreadful. I would not think on it, or allow myself to picture it. He needed to know I was strong behind him, not whimpering and cowering.

"Make ready!" I ordered the crew briskly, then turned the command over to the captain.

Ahead of us the line of almost two hundred s.h.i.+ps was being rowed toward the narrow mouth of the gulf, for the first time in months. Beyond that, the land widened out for another two miles until it fell away entirely and the open sea was reached. From where I stood, I could see the faint line of Agrippa's confronting s.h.i.+ps beyond the mouth of the gulf.

Now our s.h.i.+ps halted, and Antony's first plan--for them to form a double line and sit on their oars, inviting battle from Agrippa in the constricted waters--was put into effect.