The Memoirs of Cleopatra Part 82

He nodded. "Thank you. I hope Antony was pleased. Now, as to my proposal--I would be honored if you would allow me to rent the balsam and palm groves from you, for their true worth. That way you would receive the income, but be spared the bother of having to manage them. And"--he acted as though he had just now thought of this--"I will undertake to collect your fees from the Arabs across the Dead Sea who extract the bitumen. What do you think of this idea?"

I thought that it meant he wished to keep my agents out of his country--an understandable desire. Jericho was too close to Jerusalem, and he did not want an Egyptian listening post in his neighborhood.

"I think it has merit," I said. No need to acquiesce just yet; let him wonder.

"Think on it," he said. "Now let me show you the very spot where our King David looked out and saw Bathsheba on her rooftop--"

Even in midsummer, dawn was cool in Jerusalem. I had to pull two covers over me during the night, and when I was awakened to dress, I needed a wool wrap. But as soon as the sun struck the desert just beyond the city gates, the air heated rapidly.

Never have I seen a quicker change of climate and terrain than that which lies between Jerusalem and Jericho. For a little way the road skirts the city, high on its mountaintop, then abruptly it descends into a reddish wilderness of rock and sand. The road is notorious for bandits, and it is easy to see why: there is nothing on either side but cliffs and gulleys, good hiding places for thieves but offering no mercy for travelers.

The sun beat down on us, and I was glad to pull a covering over my head. After a long, winding way, I saw the plain open up before us, s.h.i.+mmering in the haze and sunlight. A bright green spot marked where Jericho stood, and the flat blue surface of the Dead Sea stretched far away on the right. I was surprised at how piercingly, pleasingly blue the waters looked. I could even make out ripples on the surface, puffed by the winds. Somehow I had expected it to be dull, flat, and metallic--to look unlike water.

Jericho was a city of palms; they were everywhere, their arching fronds beckoning welcome. Flat-topped houses cl.u.s.tered in their shade, and the entire city exhaled an air of pleasure and leisure. Despite his disclaimers, Herod had a sizable dwelling there. He ushered our party inside, where we were met with plates of melon, diluted goblets of the palm wine, and platters of the famous dates. They were enormous, plump, and tangy.

"And here, the balm." A servant proffered a flask of balm of Gilead, one of the costliest ointments in the world. It came from the small groves in Jericho; the bush that yielded it was reputed to grow nowhere else in the world. I held out my hands while the servant poured a few drops into my palms, then ma.s.saged them into my skin. They were absorbed as if by magic, leaving no greasy stain behind, but only a delightful aroma.

"When the heat abates, in the cool of the twilight, we shall inspect the groves," Herod said. "I know you will wish to see them."

The shadows were lengthening when we saw, from horseback, the small grove of balsam bushes. They were planted in neat rows, with irrigation ditches between them, and numerous guards stationed at the fence.

"The resin is collected from the stems," said Herod. "It oozes out by itself, but if it is slow in coming, the keepers wound the tree and collect it."

"I see it must be guarded," I said.

"Yes," he said. "It is as precious as gold. After all, it is used in holy oil, to heal wounds, and to make costly perfume. Now, as to my offer--"

"I appreciate it," I said. "And I think I will agree." He smiled. "But only on condition that your gardeners make cuttings for me while we are at the Dead Sea tomorrow. I wish to try to grow them in Egypt." His smile faded.

The cliffs on the western side of the Dead Sea were pockmarked with caves and ledges, and radiated heat. We pa.s.sed them, umbrellas s.h.i.+elding us from the glare that glanced off the sea and the landscape. The sea stretched far away, and it did not look dead. There were waves on its surface, and birds flew over it. But a strange haze lay upon it, a cloud and yet not a cloud; and Herod pointed out that not a single plant grew by its sh.o.r.e.

"It is a lake with no life at all--no seaweed, no fish, no crabs, no slime, no sh.e.l.ls. There is no odor of anything but brine, and a corpse placed in it would not be eaten or rot, but float, preserved, on its surface."

On closer inspection, it did look different, and soon crusts and eruptions of white salt reared up in its shallows. We were nearing the area where the bitumen also arose. I could smell sulfur and other foul odors.

"Put your hand in it," said Herod, when we had dismounted near the station where the bitumen was extracted. I walked over the rocky sh.o.r.e and dipped my finger in, bringing a few drops to my mouth. They were horribly bitter and sour. In an instant the water dried on my hand, making a dull white crust.

"You are turning into a pillar of salt, like Lot's wife," he said. He motioned for a jar of sweet water to be poured over my hand, rinsing it.

I would not wish my officials to be stationed here, unless they deserved punishment. Let natives deal with this h.e.l.lish place.

I looked at Herod. I was sorry we must be adversaries over territory and Antony's patronage. He was a likable man, and clearly a resourceful one. But we had our separate wants, desires, and ambitions. It was nothing personal.

We could be polite, and observe all the pleasantries. That was the civilized way, and we were children of ancient civilizations.

Leaving Herod, I made my way slowly down the Mediterranean coast, stopping in Ashkelon, still a free city, and Gaza, then traversing the waterless desert strip until we reached the Pelusic branch of the Nile. We transferred to a s.h.i.+p and sailed toward Memphis; on the way I ordered my balsam shrub cuttings to be planted at Heliopolis, a site sacred to the Pharaohs that seemed to offer good conditions for the bushes to thrive. If they did, I would have done the next best thing to finding new gold mines in my land. I was determined to increase my country's wealth any way I could.

We sailed into Alexandria from the lake side, and I saw the white city reflected in the waters and framed by reeds. I had left a lifetime ago, so it seemed; in truth, it was only half a year. The changes wrought in my situation were so profound that I was on guard as we landed; I did not know what to expect from the Alexandrians. How did they feel about my marriage and partners.h.i.+p with a Roman?

A crowd was gathered, and I could not read their faces. They had not been asked or consulted about my decision; it was the fate of subjects, but now I faced them uneasily. They watched silently as the s.h.i.+p docked and the royal trumpeters announced my arrival. Wearing my silver robes, I stepped out and hailed them, and a great burst of shouts erupted--welcoming cries. Relief flooded me; I need not have worried. I smiled and greeted them, genuinely happy to be surrounded by my own people once again.

"The bride! The bride!" they cried. "Isis! Where is Dionysus?"

"In his grape arbor!" they answered themselves.

"We wish you joy, happiness, love--"

"And fertility!" yelled one group.

"Prosperity for Egypt!" cried another. "Peace with Rome!"

"All this you shall have," I promised them, and then, on impulse, tore off my silver-threaded veil and tossed it out to them. They scrambled for it, and then my shaded litter was waiting to whisk me through the streets and back to the palace.

The children came racing across the marble floor: Alexander and Selene sliding and jumping, Caesarion--who had grown so much!--walking with controlled dignity as fast as he could. Mardian beamed, and Olympos affected his unexcited look. The rest of the staff were delighted to see Iras and Charmian, whom they had missed sorely.

"Married at last?" said Olympos, kissing my cheek. "So you have staved off spinsterhood?" He laughed at his own joke. "I know you did it only to copy me."

"Indeed, that is the only reason," I a.s.sured him. I was wearing the wedding necklace, and I let everyone feast their eyes on it, "Antony has departed for Parthia?" asked Mardian. I could tell that something worried him.

"Yes, I saw him off from the Araxes River," I said. "The army was splendid, and terrible in its weapons. And the war machines ..." I shook my head. "But plenty of time for this news later. Let us pull off our traveling clothes, wash our feet, and take refreshment."

Everything was changed, but nothing was changed--the furniture all stood in the exact same places, the curtains ballooned and billowed from the puffs of sea wind, just as I remembered, even making the same patterns as before, and shoes I had left behind were waiting, silent and polished, for me in my wardrobe. But now I, and Alexandria, were tied to something outside; I felt as though a walled garden had been breached. It was a retreat no longer, nor was it self-contained, as Egypt had always been. Now Rome was here, in the person of Antony and his fortunes, in this very room.

"Your face is sad," said Charmian. "Is there something amiss in your chambers?"

"No. No, of course not. It is just that, for a moment, it seemed unfamiliar." I shook my head. What melancholy thoughts! The alliance with Antony would protect Egypt, would preserve it, not compromise it.

The twins came running in. "Where's our father? Where is he? Where's he hiding?"

Their squeals told me how excited they were to have discovered that they had had a father, let alone one who liked to play. a father, let alone one who liked to play.

"He's gone to do his job," I told them. "He's a soldier, and soldiers have to go with their armies."

"Oh." Alexander looked up brightly. "I have some toy soldiers. Want to see them? Now?"

I let myself be dragged into their rooms, but not before I had motioned to a servant to bring along Antony's old spear and helmet. "These are for you," I told Alexander. "They are what a grown-up soldier wears, and your father left them for you to wear someday."

It was something Antony would would have done. have done.

Selene was hanging on me, and I quickly pulled off a silver bracelet with ram's heads that had been presented to me by Artavasdes, and featured the fine workmans.h.i.+p of his country. "This is for you," I a.s.sured her, putting it on.

"And nothing for me?" The ever-taller Caesarion was standing in the doorway, feeling left out. I had to think of something. He was too old for toys and too intelligent to be fobbed off with a makes.h.i.+ft present.

"Of course there is something for you. One thing for you to play with, and another for you to keep. I have brought back a jar of the most extraordinary water, from the Dead Sea in Judaea. I thought you might like to taste it and test it to see how heavy it is. And when you are finished with it, you can evaporate it and compare it with seawater. It must have three times as much salt in it. Just don't make any pets drink it--although I don't think you could. And the other present--it's a beautiful Arab horse, small and as fast as the wind." The bitumen extractors had presented it to me, in relief that they could continue their business unmolested. It was time Caesarion perfected his horsemans.h.i.+p, and I knew he needed a special horse, one that he loved, to do it.

"Oh!" His eyes grew large. "What color is it?"

"He is white, with a gray mane and tail." I had been quite taken with him.

"His name?"

"He had a Nabataean one that meant 'Leader,' but you may call him anything you please."

Thus my presents were redistributed to eager recipients.

Mid-July, and I was pacing up and down in my workroom. Antony had been gone two months. What was happening to him? I longed for news. But instead I was forced to hear about the wretched Octavian--Mardian had just received a dispatch.

"So, what of him?" I hated hearing what Octavian was doing, but braced myself. Let him be sunk on a shoal.

"His campaign is finally launched," said Mardian, reading as he spoke. "Or, I should say, Agrippa's campaign."

"Ha!" I cried. "Yes, he is completely dependent on Agrippa for both the brains and the brawn of any military action." The puny Octavian and his robust friend: a happy combination, for them.

"At least he has has someone he can depend on," said Mardian pointedly. someone he can depend on," said Mardian pointedly.

Antony fought alone, basically. It would be a comfort to have a reliable partner; yes, it would.

"He is fortunate in his friends," I admitted. "What plans have they settled on?" I had to know.

"You know about Agrippa's strategy," said Mardian. "We had reports all winter."

"Yes, yes!" I barked. "I know all about his naval training station and his twenty thousand oarsmen."

"He has mobilized all the forces at his command against s.e.xtus, as his very political survival depends on defeating him," said Mardian, his eyes darting across the paper. "The battle will be fought in Sicily, on both land and sea. The Consul Taurus is sailing from Italy with the two squadrons Antony donated, and Lepidus is bringing up his twelve legions, plus a fleet from Africa. Agrippa has determined that he will leave nothing to chance. Therefore, against the swift s.h.i.+ps and superior seamans.h.i.+p of s.e.xtus he has built such ma.s.sive s.h.i.+ps that they cannot be sunk, but must crush the enemy by weight alone. Last year he struggled under three disadvantages: his s.h.i.+ps were no better than s.e.xtus's, his oarsmen were worse, and he had no secure harbor. He has now solved all these problems."

If only we had such an industrious, clever lieutenant! Agrippa had indeed grown into impressive manhood.

"Oh, and he has invented a device called 'the s.n.a.t.c.her'--it is a catapult that fires a grappling hook, so that the little boats of s.e.xtus can be hauled against Agrippa's, and a land battle on decks commence."

"They will cut the ropes of 'the s.n.a.t.c.her,' " I said. That seemed obvious.

"He has encased them in long tubes of iron, so they cannot."

d.a.m.n his cleverness! Marcus Vipsanius Agrippa, that polite boy at Caesar's dinner--who could have predicted his military ac.u.men?

"They expect naval action at any day," said Mardian. "And it will come just in time to rescue Octavian from his growing unpopularity with the Roman mobs. They will not tolerate him or s.e.xtus much longer. One has to go."

The blue seas around Alexandria were innocent and calm, belying the action elsewhere. We waited, day after day, for news, which seemed so slow in coming. s.h.i.+ps limped in with reports. Octavian's fleet had been wrecked, again. Thirty-two s.h.i.+ps of the line and many more light Liburnian galleys were destroyed in a storm. Octavian thought seriously of postponing the campaign for another year. Our spirits soared. That would give Antony the lead he needed.

Octavian thought likewise. He dared not let another season pa.s.s, allowing Antony a great victory while he suffered from unpopularity at Rome yet another winter. And he feared that s.e.xtus would find a way to destroy his fleet at anchor. So, with his customary determination and thoroughness, he pressed on grimly. "I will triumph even over the will of Neptune," he vowed.

"There is even a report that he almost committed suicide," said Mardian. "He was so discouraged when his fleet was lost, but--"

"With the morning light he thought better of it," I said. I knew his thinking. Octavian would always wait for the morning light.

More reports came in on the next stage of the campaign. The action had narrowed to the wicked Strait of Messina, which s.e.xtus guarded and Octavian's forces needed to cross. Agrippa fought s.e.xtus, and his heavier s.h.i.+ps proved the worth of his strategy, crus.h.i.+ng s.e.xtus's vessels. But s.e.xtus withdrew and decided to attack Octavian instead as he ferried his troops across; Octavian escaped, but the s.h.i.+ps Antony had lent him were ruined, unable to withstand s.e.xtus.

"A lesson for us in that!" I said. "No more small s.h.i.+ps!"

"Time had run out for Octavian," said Mardian, with delight, reading the dispatch. "He had to send Maecenas back to Rome to quiet things down. Oh--but then Agrippa--Agrippa--"

"Agrippa what?" what?" I grabbed the letter from him. Was Agrippa some kind of G.o.d, always able to deliver his friend? I grabbed the letter from him. Was Agrippa some kind of G.o.d, always able to deliver his friend?

Agrippa had seized a port on Sicily that allowed him to land his and Octavian's land forces--a total of twenty-one legions and auxiliaries. They caged in s.e.xtus, who then decided to stake all on a sea battle.

"And what happened?" I waved the letter. It had ended there.

The battle was long over, but we must wait to know the outcome.

We finally learned: On the third of September, the great battle was fought at last, and s.e.xtus utterly defeated. s.e.xtus's men and s.h.i.+ps fought spectacularly and bravely, knowing they could expect no mercy. But Agrippa's big s.h.i.+ps won the day, holding s.e.xtus's s.h.i.+ps captive, hooking them, boarding them, sinking them. Twenty-eight of s.e.xtus's s.h.i.+ps were sunk, against only three of Agrippa's. Only seventeen escaped, and s.e.xtus fled with them.

"How many s.h.i.+ps out of three hundred?" I could not believe it.

"Seventeen."

"The victory is decisive, then." Octavian had prevailed.

"s.e.xtus has fled to Antony," Mardian read in disbelief. "He will throw himself on his mercy."

"O Isis!" I said. "What will Antony do with him?"

There was more yet. Lepidus made his move against Octavian and Agrippa. It seemed that he had resented being the neglected member of the Triumvirate all these years; swelled with pride in the twenty-two legions he had acquired--reckoning that neither side had had as many at Philippi--he tried to overthrow Octavian and Agrippa. But the troops were having none of it; they were weary of civil war and unimpressed with Lepidus.

"Lepidus was forced to throw himself on Octavian's mercy," read Mardian. "To kiss his sandals!"

I shuddered. Then I remarked, "His built-up sandals." The ultimate humiliation.

"Octavian made a great show of mercy, but he has deprived him of his office as Triumvir, his legions, and his power. Lepidus has departed for an enforced retirement."

"Octavian is master of the west," I said slowly. "s.e.xtus and Lepidus gone. He rules all, as far as Greece."

"Yes," said Mardian. "He has forty-five legions under his command. Some are undermanned, but they still number at least a hundred and twenty thousand soldiers."

"Whatever will he do with them?" I asked softly. "For they must either be paid and dismissed, or used, and he has no funds to pay them."

Work must be found for those soldiers, then. Octavian could, of course, transfer some to Antony. But I knew he would not. He would keep them busy and in training. .. and find some plunder for them, some untouched treasure trove into which they could dip their hands and pay themselves. Egypt? Or what Antony won in Parthia?

Chapter 59.