The Memoirs of Cleopatra Part 25

Then I saw the cobra. I thought I was dreaming, or that it was a wooden sculpture that I had somehow overlooked earlier. A dark wooden one, against the far wall. It was motionless. Yes, it was a sculpture. I felt my fear drain away.

Just then it moved. It inched forward and raised its head. My heart stopped.

It was not especially large. But all cobras are poisonous, even the babies; I knew that. I held as still as I could, and tried to remember everything else I had learned about them. Mardian and his snakes had been part of my childhood; he had had one old cobra that he kept in a pen by itself, with very close-fitting bars. He had been fond of it, but certainly had never handled it.

"It's a lie that you can become immune to snakebite," he had said when I asked him about a tribe of men reputed to be so. "Our happy little fellow here has enough poison in him to kill five men with one bite."

Remembering his words, the very tone of his voice, I felt sweat break out all over me. Five men. This snake--the royal cobra of Egypt--could dispatch five men, all in one bite. A good night's work.

"And how long does it take to die of snakebite?" I had asked.

"Some men have succ.u.mbed in only a quarter of an hour," he had said. "Others may take an hour or so. It depends on where you are bitten, and whether the snake has bitten someone else first. It does not seem to be especially painful. Prisoners beg to be executed by snakebite. Of course it would be improper, since the cobra is a royal beast, and divine," he had said, in his most official tone.

"Of course," I had echoed him.

The cobra moved again, gliding away from the wall. He came out into the center of the room, but avoided the patch of moonlight. He just remained still and looked at it quizzically. I could see the bead of his eye, with a smaller bead of light reflected in it. His tongue flicked out; he seemed to be testing the air.

Could he smell my fear? Could he sense our living presence? Was he going to glide over to my sleeping couch, spread his hood, lean over me and strike?

I held as still as a statue. I did not dare to speak, or to warn Iras, lest she move suddenly.

He made his way cautiously into the light, moving only a hand's breadth at a time. He was banded, and his light and dark skin was beautiful. He was indeed a divine instrument of death--sleek and slender and delicately colored.

He did not care for the light. He turned his head and slithered to one side, coming still closer to the bed. I gripped the wooden frame, prepared to vault myself in the opposite direction, hoping my arms were strong enough to propel me. Even so, I might not land far enough away; cobras were supposed to be lightning-fast. I had never seen one strike from a distance, as Mardian's old pet had never been given the opportunity.

A movement from the other side of the room. Were there two of them? No, it was the monkey, moving in her sleep. The cobra turned so suddenly and sped off toward her so fast that I did not see his actual path. One instant he was near my bed, the next speeding across the room. A dark shape reared up; his hood was spread. I heard noises, scrambling, a hiss, high, raucous squeals, first of anger and fear, then of shock and pain. Another hiss. Then something falling across the room.

Trembling, I stood up and grabbed the sputtering oil lamp and held it up. Its feeble flame did not reveal much, but I saw the long, dark shape of the cobra disappearing out the open window. At the base was the standing lamp he had overturned. He was gone!

Kasu was howling, grabbing her tail. I rushed over to her, followed by the dazed Iras.

"Light another lamp!" I cried. " "A snake has attacked us! We need more light!"

Iras shrieked.

"The snake is gone, there's no need to fear!" I said. "But we need light!"

The monkey was shaking in terror. But had she been bitten? It was hard to tell. I did not see anything at first. But she clutched her tail, and between the fingers I could see a swelling beginning.

"It got her tail," I said. "Oh, please, Kasu, release your grip so I can see!" But such was the strength of the monkey that even now I could not pry her fingers away from the injury.

"A tourniquet," I said. "It's only the tip of the tail. We can tie it off." Hands shaking, I drew off the leather thong that was woven around her basket to hold her blanket in place. I tied it halfway up the tail, making it as tight as I could.

"Call for the guards," I said. "We need someone strong enough to get her fingers loose so we can cut open the wound and suck out the poison, before it spreads further."

Suddenly Kasu went limp; the fear and shock had caused her to faint. Her fingers loosened and fell away, and I could see the wound. There was only one scratch; evidently the snake had missed and hit her only a glancing blow rather than a full puncture.

"Thanks be to Thoth!" I breathed. The baboon-G.o.d of wisdom had protected his own, even against the royal cobra.

After such a night, it is little wonder that I found myself nervous as I stood beside Amanishakheto in the throne room and awaited the prisoner. Outside, all was bright and glorious; night had fled with the snake, and they both seemed unreal.

Amanishakheto was dressed in fiery red robes overlaid with a blue beaded sash, and again she was loaded down with gold jewelry. On her head was the Nubian crown, which had a double cobra. The Egyptian one had a single cobra. Just seeing the creature depicted in gold and wrapped around her head made my encounter of the night seem even more nightmarish.

The doors at the far end of the room swung open and a young man, yoked and chained, was brought in. Two enormous guards flanked him.

I was startled by the resemblance to my late brother. He was almost exactly the same height and build, and his features were similar enough to convince anyone who had not seen the true Ptolemy. When he spoke, I could see that he had hoped to win followers by his voice and words. He had obviously studied Ptolemy's manner of speaking, and had mastered his inflections and choice of words. He must have heard him many times; this boy may have been in the royal household as a servant.

He stood, feet in their iron fetters spread apart, head high.

"Greetings, most n.o.ble sister," he said.

Oh, he was bold. And clever. I could not help but admire that in him.

"I am not your sister," I said coldly. "You share no blood with me."

"It would be convenient for you to convince others of that. But you and I know the truth. You thought you were rid of me in that battle at the Nile, but I escaped. I let you and Caesar think you had won. But now Caesar is gone, and you are alone."

"Except for my three Roman legions," I said coldly.

"Bah! What is that? Foreign troops. They will flee when you need them. Now you must admit the truth, and restore me to the throne. As Caesar had proclaimed me to be, I am joint ruler with you. As our father wished."

"Enough of this. It is amusing, and I admit you are clever. You have studied the accent and expressions well. But you are a liar. My brother is dead. I saw him; and now he rests with his ancestors in our mausoleum. Now you had best name your true ancestors, so that we can allow you to rest with them."

The color drained from his face. He had expected more of a hearing. But surely he did not expect me to be fooled. Perhaps he had a.s.sumed I had spent so little time with my brother that I would have a faded memory of him. But not enough time had pa.s.sed. It was only a year since Ptolemy's death.

I turned to Amanishakheto. "This person is no kin of mine, not brother, not consort, not joint ruler. He is a common impostor. Let him die the death of a usurper. He who attempts to wear the royal cobra on his brow must be of the blood royal. His is not--although he has courage, that I grant him."

His eyes sought mine out, begging, challenging. Let me live Let me live, they said. Let me live. Let me live.

Today, tonight, they haunt me. Not because I was wrong in my decision, but because it had to be made. Soon my son, my dear Caesarion, may have to look in Octavian's eyes the same way, make the same silent plea. And Octavian is much harder of heart than I. Thus the boy's eyes haunt me, because they are now my own son's. All our deeds are visited on us from a different vantage point. A cup that tastes sweet when we are sitting may be bitter indeed when we are standing.

"Take him away," said the Kandake. "Prepare the place of execution."

As the young man was being led away, she said to me, "They are taken beyond the city gates and slain there. Unless he reveals his true family, he will be. buried in a desert grave."

The boy turned to us with one half-defiant, half-pitiful look, before he was shoved out the door.

"After the heat of the day h as faded, I would like to show you my pyramid," she said. "I always enjoy a desert ride." She smiled. "Don't you?"

Shadows were creeping from the rocks and trees when we set out. It was the time of day when the light changed, and the desert began turning from white-hot to mellow red. The sky was still blindingly blue, heat still emanating from the ground. But high on our camels, swaying and dipping, we were protected from the worst of it.

Amanishakheto's saddle had a canopy on it, and she sat happily shaded from the sun as the beast ploughed his way through the sand like a s.h.i.+p.

She had seemed most anxious that I view her pyramid. Did she think I had never seen one? Now I understand, of course, that one is always very proud of one's projected resting place. I am in the process of completing mine; indeed I find it oddly fulfilling to design my own tomb. But then I considered the Kandake peculiar and morbid to want to visit it with a guest.

As we came over the top of a ridge, I suddenly saw a field of pyramids, hundreds of them, like toys. They were smaller than ours, and with much steeper sides. They also did not end in a point, but had a platform on top. Coming closer, I could see that they had portals and small structures attached to their east faces.

"Here!" She pointed to a half-finished one, larger than the rest. She urged her camel forward, and it broke into a run over the glowing sands. At its base she reined it in, and waited for me to catch up.

When I dismounted, she threw her arms out as if to embrace the entire pyramid. "Here is my eternity!" she said proudly.

"Indeed, it is a fine pyramid." What else could one say about it?

"Let us inspect the prayer chapel," she said. "I ordered certain wall carvings-- After the brilliance of the desert, I felt blind once we were inside. I could see absolutely nothing. It was like being dead, like already lying in the bedrock under the pyramid.

She pulled a piece of reflecting metal out of her voluminous leather pouch, and used it to bounce light onto the walls.

"Tsk, tsk!" She bent forward to examine a carving showing herself--I a.s.sume it was she--holding a brace of enemies by the hair, ready to plunge a spear into the backs of their shoulders. "The artist has botched my headdress!"

"I am sure it can be remedied," I said.

"Why do they never get it right?" she fretted.

"Because artists are people, and people make mistakes," I said.

"You do not think you made a mistake this morning, do you?"

I turned to her. "No. Why do you ask?"

"I was only testing you." She turned imperiously and made her slow, deliberate way out of the chapel door. More carvings of herself punis.h.i.+ng her enemies were resplendent on either side. "I have a pavilion on the north side," she said. "Let us sit there, and contemplate the pyramid."

A structure of woven reeds st.u.r.dy enough to withstand the winds was waiting for us, as were the inevitable, discreet stone seats for her ample majesty. She sank down upon one. I sat close by.

"My dear, you have pa.s.sed the test," she said. "And now I will ask you to join me on my glorious enterprise. An empire, an alliance of women!" Before I could speak, she went on at breakneck speed. "I can see that you are a woman beyond all other women. Leave behind your alliance with men, with Rome. Let us forge a new one. Together we can make a nation that will look to the south, to Africa, to the east, to Arabia and India. A great nation, turning its back on Rome and its leavings. What do the Romans know of our kind? Of art, and poetry, and the mysteries of Osiris and Isis? They understand nothing but what happens in the sunlight. Of the dawn, the twilight, the dark of the moon, they know not. Yet they wish to destroy it."

"I do not think they care enough about it to destroy it," I finally said.

"They only want to crush it beneath their chariot wheels, their chariot wheels turning in the constant Triumphs they celebrate at Rome. Crush it, and then sweep it away." She leaned over to me. "You are our only hope. You may be the savior predicted by the oracle. The woman who will shear Rome's hair. Who will save the east."

The truth slowly dawned on me. "Why . . . this is why you wanted me to come to Meroe. So we could sit together in private and you could make this proposal. Ptolemy the pretender was just a ruse." She was devious and clever as Odysseus. And a gambler--like Caesar himself.

"You know you don't belong with them," she said, ignoring my question. "They will never understand you, never understand what it is Egypt stands for. To them, it is just a big grain factory, existing to placate the grumbling Roman crowds and soldiers. Separately we will be taken by them. Together, we can resist. And the nation we can create! The glory of Greece, the splendor of Africa, the riches of India! And all ruled by a spirit of sophistication, tolerance, experimentation! The way of life, of joy!"

"You sound like a merchant hawking his wares," I said. "Do not make such extravagant claims for your new nation. It would be made up of men, not G.o.ds."

"A nation that will follow in the tradition of the great Alexander. Did he not look to the east? Did not his yearnings draw him there, and would have drawn him still farther into India, if only his fainthearted soldiers had not faltered?"

"We do not have an army like Alexander's/' I said.

"No one does. Not even Caesar, since he must expend his energies fighting fellow Romans. But Nubia has a fine army, and the best bowmen in the world. Against anyone but Rome, we would do well."

"But Rome would never just let us alone."

"Ah! Do I detect a serious consideration of my proposal?" She leapt in like a dog scenting blood. "Think of Rome! What can you expect of her? I know of your feelings for Caesar, but he is just one man, and not immortal. What would Rome be to you without him? Its meaning for you would vanish. Our alliance is more natural. It is not based on your person or my person, but on the needs of our countries."

"You say it is not based on our persons, but earlier you stressed that it should be an alliance of women. My son will succeed me; what then?"

She was persuasive; she had many clever reasons for her plan. But in the end it was not sensible. Rome was master of the world. It was best to be on that side, rather than attempting to go it alone. Yet the image of that magical kingdom Amanishakheto beckoned me to was to linger, and linger. . . .

"You will live a long time," she said. "It is you who will put the stamp on what sort of kingdom it will be. Your son will inherit your creation."

Successors sometimes respected traditions and sometimes did not. It was no certain thing. "I will not live a long time if cobras keep coming into my room," I said. "Have you been informed about last night? Poor Kasu took what I fear was meant for me. But I think she will survive. The snake was clumsy."

"Yes. I heard. I fear that this happens more often than I would like to admit. The snake charmers and snake catchers seem to be doing a poor job. I am more thankful than I can ever say that you were unharmed. The G.o.ds protected you, and made made the snake miss. But what of our alliance? Do consider it! Remember how our ancestors, the n.o.ble Ptolemy the Fourth and Arqamani, worked together to build the temples at Philae and Dakka. It was the beginning. This is meant to be, I tell you!" the snake miss. But what of our alliance? Do consider it! Remember how our ancestors, the n.o.ble Ptolemy the Fourth and Arqamani, worked together to build the temples at Philae and Dakka. It was the beginning. This is meant to be, I tell you!"

"Not for now," I told her quietly, but as definitely as I could. "You tempt me. I find your proposal intriguing. I will always remember it, and be honored that you asked me. But I do not believe it is possible. And when something is not possible, it is best to let go of it with gentle respect. I thank you for the offer of the alliance, and I trust that, even with no formal agreement, we will always be friends and allies."

Her face fell, but she accepted my answer. "Very well. And when the Romans let you down, know that I will avenge you!" She took a deep breath. "I will not make the offer a second time. Should you ever wish it, the proposal must come from you."

"Very well. I will not be too proud, should the time come. And thank you again. It was worth the journey to obtain such a friend."

As we rode back toward Meroe, I saw a fresh mound of sand, topped by rocks. The setting sun made the rocks cast jagged shadows.

"The grave of the impostor," said the Kandake. "There he lies." The camels trotted by the heap of stones, and we left it to face the coming desert night and its scavengers. I hoped there were enough rocks on it to protect it.

Chapter 20.

Noon on the Nile, Nubia gliding past. We had taken leave of Meroe at dawn, and now the backs of my rowers were glistening as they manned the oars. To double our speed, we were rowing with the current. The sails were folded away, useless on the return journey. I sat in the shaded deck cabin, Kasu by my feet. She had recovered after a spell of weakness; Iras and I had nursed her in our chamber, which the Meroites found amusing. A queen tending a monkey, they had laughed; an upside-down world. But our care was repaid. Her only scar was the bald tip of her tail; the residue of poison had killed all the fur. And I, who had wished to refuse the gift of her, now found that I did not want to be parted from the creature.

I felt queasy, and touched my stomach gingerly. The ostrich-egg feast Amanishakheto had served as a farewell banquet was not sitting well with me. She had outdone herself in having her cooks prepare ostrich eggs in every normal way, and every outlandish way as well. There were fluffy whipped ostrich eggs flavored with cinnamon, baked ostrich eggs served with toppings of dried lizard tails and salted sea slug, ostrich eggs layered with camel-milk cheese, starfish arms, and baby crocodile snouts (finely chopped, of course), boiled ostrich eggs to be eaten out of their gilded sh.e.l.ls and flavored with fermented-fish relish or spiced honey. Boiled ostrich with date sauce was the only meat. Since each ostrich egg must be the equivalent of twenty or thirty duck eggs, the amount of food served was staggering.

The Kandake managed to sample at least three or four of them, as well as several helpings of the boiled ostrich meat. She had decked herself out in so many ostrich plumes, she appeared to float. I could see that she was diligently doing her part to keep up her vast proportions.

But it was all I could do to choke down samples of the food. The fast Nubian dancers and acrobats who had performed during the feast had not aided the task of digestion. The flavors all fought with each other--both last night and now. I would fast today; I must must fast today. fast today.

Iras was standing beside me. As always, she was somewhat quiet. One felt her presence rather than heard it.

"I am pleased you could come with me," I said. "I feel I understand you better now that I have seen your ancestral lands."

"They were a bit foreign to me," she admitted. "But it was good for me to see them, too."

On we went, down the river, leaving the green fields behind, heading into the forbidding, baking desert.

Time seemed to lose its meaning, to dissolve in the days on the river; it appeared that our boat was standing still while the scenery changed around us. Green, brown, gray, golden; trees, crops, waterwheels, cliffs, temples, monuments; glowing sunrises and fiery sunsets that stained the water red; a sandstorm once that flecked the waters of the Nile brown and foamy and veiled the sun, bending the palms on the riverbanks almost double. At one point we entered an area of cliffs on one side and sand on the other that I called the Yellow Vale, for everything there was yellow in all its shades: buff, gold, orange, topaz, amber.

I was deeply glad that I had come; I did not regret the time spent. I found the Kandake and her proposal to me very comforting; in some ways it was the only honorable one I had yet received.

Alexandria, sparkling in the sun, brisk and bracing with its sea breezes. Perfect now in early June; and it felt good to return.

Rebuilding had been going on apace, and much of the war damage had been repaired. Mardian and Epaphroditus had managed things well, although there had been squabbles over--what else?--power. Mardian had resented the intrusion of this newcomer, and Epaphroditus had not liked taking a secondary position. Each of them was waiting to pounce on me and pour out his complaints about the other.