Chapter Fourteen #2
His conviction tightened like arms around my chest. We may not have had a wedding, but we were partners in all things, until the day he died.
“I will send for you in Rome,” he continued, his voice growing wistful, “and I will show you the beauty of my city; pray in the Temple of Jupiter, pluck apples from the orchards.”
He made our future sound so wonderful.
“Caesarion can run free among the vineyards—”
“Little Caesar?” I laughed, unaware the nickname would remain for centuries to come.
“Yes.” He kissed my belly. “Caesarion they shall be, and we shall live a prosperous life between our two countries.”
I ran my hand through his hair. “First we must win this war.”
“Yes. Tomorrow, if you’ll permit me, I would like to parley with Arsinoe and Theos.”
“You expect them to surrender?”
“I hope they will.”
“You do not know Arsinoe like I do. But perhaps you can bring Theos to our side,” I said.
“I would like to try.”
It had been so long since I had seen either of my siblings. “I want to come.”
“Cleopatra, no, you must rest.”
“No,” I said. “I need to be there when this ends.”
He met my eyes and saw the determination in them. “I see I will not be able to sway you.”
I patted his cheek. “You are wise not to try.”
He brought his lips to my wrist, against the blood that flowed there. “I will not let you out of my sight. For you and the babe you carry are the very essence of me.”
The water between us swelled and splashed as I moved to press my body against his. When I touched my lips to his, all worry was lost to pleasure.
—
The wind struck my face like the flapping of a bird’s wing, stinging my cheeks.
I clung on to my headdress, in the likeness of Isis’s own crown, which threatened to topple into the sea.
The cow horns tapered skywards to a sharp point on the side of each ear, a gold solar disc binding them together on the top of my head.
The dress I wore was a deep purple and it was tangled in my legs. Caesar stood beside me at the bow of the boat, clad in chainmail and leather armour, his gladius sword at his waist.
“My head hurts,” said a little voice. I grimaced.
Ptolemy, the youngest of my siblings, stood behind me. He wore the crown of the two lands, an ancient headpiece representing the coming together of Upper and Lower Egypt. I had thought it best that he showcased the heritage we represented.
But it was too big for his twelve-year-old head. The white barrelled base hung low on his brow, and the red arched interior rose precariously high off his crown and had to be secured with rope to his ears.
He looks like a fool of a king.
Ahead of us were the remaining ships of the rebellion army. As we drew closer, I could make out Arsinoe and Theos standing on the balcony at the front of their fleet.
They disembarked onto a smaller vessel and Caesar, Ptolemy and I did the same. Each party brought with them four guards; the remainder of our armies were at our backs.
“Ptolemy, can you use your gift? Tell me, who will die on their boat today?” I asked my brother as we drew near.
He seemed pleased to be asked. He screwed up his little face as he scrutinised our siblings on the other vessel.
Then he said, “No one will die today.”
I sighed in relief. Though I was deeply angry at both Arsinoe and Theos, I did not want to have to give the order to kill either of them.
“If neither dies, then there is hope they may yet surrender peacefully,” Caesar said.
“I hope so.”
The sea grew fierce and I found myself knocked to the side. Caesar steadied me, his hand cradling my stomach.
That was how Arsinoe first saw us as her boat drew alongside ours—not Pharaoh and consul, but lovers, parents.
Her lips parted in shock, which was quickly smothered by a small smile. Theos stood to her right.
Both were much changed.
Theos had thrived. He was taller, and his battle-worn gaze had lost all trace of childishness.
He wore his gold armour which, though it was still big, fit better than it had done half a year earlier.
Arsinoe, on the other hand, had lost some of the vibrancy of her beauty, and I wondered if the toll of war had also stripped her of some of her arrogance.
The dress she wore looked as if it had once been a deep indigo, but it had faded from exposure to seawater. She wore a tripartite wig, hiding her natural hair beneath. Perhaps without her handmaidens, she suffered to maintain it.
She looked tired, but resolute.
I want to be seen, Arsinoe had once said to me.
“I see you, Arsinoe,” I said gently. For all that she had wronged me, she was still my younger sister, whom I loved.
Her eyes narrowed. “You have crowned our baby brother,” she said.
Theos looked at Ptolemy, seemingly for the first time. The two had always had a bitter rivalry. “He will not be a better king than me,” he said.
I felt a surge of affection for the insolent child. His innocence had been ill-treated, his wants and desires twisted for my sister’s purpose. Even the words he spoke did not sound like him any more. He’d had no ambition to rule.
“We are here to discuss the terms of your surrender. Bow to your brother and sister and we may yet be able to forge a path forward in peace,” Caesar said.
Arsinoe’s nostrils flared and a flush ran up her neck. “I will bow to no one.”
“Arsinoe, do not be foolhardy,” I snapped. “Death or surrender are your two options.”
“There is a third. Rule,” she replied coolly.
I shook my head, incensed by her lack of judgement. “And what say you, Mikro Theos? Your home awaits you.”
Theos looked to Ptolemy, then to me. “I will not bow to this little boy.”
I hissed through my teeth, “Do not fall prey to your sister’s poor judgement. Bowing to your brother is a small price to pay to live. You can come home again, swim in the harbour, go back to your studies.”
He hesitated, and Arsinoe saw it. Her lips puckered in disgust. “Go, then, join them if that is what you desire. But know that you will be beholden to their rule, never to make your own decisions. Never to be seen.”
Arsinoe was always wrong about the throne. She thought it would allow her to ascend to a state of absolute freedom. But it was always the opposite. Few people ever truly saw me for who I was, and that was because of the crown I wore. Even Caesar saw me as his queen first, and his lover second.
Everyone except for maybe Marcus. But it is not his time yet; he lingers in the margins of the page, awaiting his moment.
Theos turned to Arsinoe. They exchanged words I will never come to know. The ocean wind stole them from me, so I didn’t hear my brother speak for the last time.
But I saw Arsinoe’s rage, and I watched as she pushed my brother, with all her might, off the boat and into the sea.
Theos began to flail amidst the waves, his armour weighing him down.
We all watched in shocked silence as he began to sink.
“He can breathe underwater, all will be well,” Ptolemy said next to me.
Arsinoe’s triumphant smile turned to horror as Theos disappeared beneath the sea.
We waited for him to resurface, but as time moved on, it dawned on us that he was not coming back up.
I looked over to Arsinoe, but all expression had slipped from her features as though she defied even her own emotions.
It left her as stoic and as still as a statue.
“Julius, send someone after him!” I shouted, the spell broken.
Caesar shook his head sadly. “It is too late, my queen, his armour will have taken him too far out of reach for a swimmer without his gift.”
“So he is to remain beneath the waves forevermore?” I was tired of grief, and no tears fell. I had already lost the brother I had come to know half a year earlier.
Caesar met my gaze. “Unless he can remove his armour.”
I shook my head. The suit had been made entirely from gold, with hinges that required four men to screw them together. Without their help, Theos was incapable of getting free.
Realisation was a cold thing; it set my teeth chattering and my hair on end. Theos was gone—not dead, no, for Ptolemy would have foretold it—but gone. Entombed in his armour.
Love was not a prerequisite in the Ptolemy family.
We were siblings, sometimes spouses, more than occasionally enemies.
Had I loved my brother? The truth is, I’m not sure.
Years were not the only thing that separated us.
We had little in common, and though, until these past few months, we had dined together every evening, I had not truly known him.
I failed you in so many ways.
If I had loved him harder, would he have been swayed so easily to Arsinoe’s side? Shame pierced my grief, making me gasp.
Caesar held me as I shuddered, my sobbing silent except for my heaving breath.
How would his gift sustain him? Would dehydration end his torment? Or old age, many years hence?
“Please, Isis, let it be swift,” I said to no one but my god.
I looked back to Arsinoe, but she had turned away. Did she also feel shame? Or had ambition rotted away what was left of her compassion?
I wanted to believe that Arsinoe hadn’t meant to lose Theos that day—that her anger had overcome her reason. But I would never know. For this was the last time I spoke to my sister.
And her, I did love. Despite all her faults and her treachery. She had been my shadow for so many years. Even now I understood that she sought the light.
The rowers on Arsinoe’s ship were making quick work closing the distance between her and her remaining fleet.
Caesar raised his hand to indicate pursuit.
I gathered myself to speak. “Leave her,” I said. “Let her conscience fester with the sin she committed this day. Tomorrow we will end this.”
My crying ceased and a wave of exhaustion overcame me. I looked to the spot where Theos had disappeared beneath the ocean’s surface.
Ptolemy sniffled beside me.
“Goodbye, Mikro Theos,” I whispered. “May you find solace in your kingdom in the sea’s depths.”
I thought of my brother often over the years. I indulged myself with the hope that he had freed himself of his armour and sought land, living a happy life on the shore.
But I knew it was more likely he’d either died within days or remained trapped in his gold tomb for years, until old age blissfully released him from the gift that had become his prison.
Skip Notes
* Not asses’ milk, as many have gone on to claim. Your falsities follow me to the bathhouse, even.