“Of course, it’s hard to tell what he really looks like with all that horrid makeup; he even had a beard made of wool on his face,” he exclaimed. Taking another sip, he laughed at the memory. “Oh, he tried his best to be regal and very solemn, but it was clear from the first moment that he's little more than a puppet and it’s Pothinus and that other one, Theodotus, that are pulling his strings. You should have seen their faces when Caesar produced the will of Ptolemy XIII; even through the makeup you could see their faces go white as bone.”
“What does the will say?” asked Diocles, I knew for my benefit.
“That the Senate and People of Rome should help ensure that Ptolemy XIII’s last wishes were carried out, and that Caesar was the duly appointed representative to arbitrate the dispute.”
“And what were his wishes?”
“That Ptolemy XIV and Cleopatra share the throne of Egypt equally, as co-regents.”
“That seems fair enough,” Diocles commented, and I thought so as well.
“Oh, it’s fair. But it became clear very quickly that the real source of conflict is less between Ptolemy and Cleopatra than it is between his advisers and their queen. I think that they’re worried that she’ll have more influence over her little brother-husband than they will. And from what I gather, she’s quite intelligent and sees those two for what they are. I have a feeling that they’re also worried that their respective heads may not stay on their respective shoulders if she returns.”
“Does anyone know where she is?”
“We don’t know exactly; all we know is that she’s hiding somewhere along the coast. And certainly Pothinus and Theodotus don’t know or she’d be dead.”
Of course, when dealing with the Egyptians, as we were to learn, nothing is ever that straightforward. After seeing that Caesar found the will and heard his decision, Ptolemy and his toadies asked for a day to discuss matters, which in itself was not unfair. But one day stretched to two, then three, then four before Caesar finally had enough, ordering an audience, this time making no pretense that he was not the one in control. It was at this meeting that the farce that young Ptolemy was in charge finally became exposed for what it was, when Pothinus and Caesar engaged in a shouting match. Appolonius’ hands were still shaking, this time gulping the wine Diocles offered instead of taking his usual sips.
“Well, that went to cac,” he gasped, shaking his head. “It started out with the normal ‘how do you do’s,’ then Caesar informed them that he was calling in the loan taken out by Ptolemy XIII, which they were none too happy about, but when they asked how much the amount was and Caesar told them, Pothinus hit the roof!”
“How much was the loan?” Diocles asked.
“Seventy million sesterces.”
Diocles’ gasp was audible through the wall, and I was thankful for it because it covered the sound of my own. It was fairly easy to understand why the Egyptians were so put out, I thought.
“What did Ptolemy say?”
Appolonius scoffed, “Say? He didn’t say a word. He just sat there like a lump. It was Pothinus who did all the talking from then on.”
There was a pause as Appolonius took a drink, but it soon became clear that he was enjoying building the suspense.
Finally, Diocles burst out, “Well? What did he say? Or are you just going to sit there swilling wine?”
Appolonius laughed, clearly enjoying tormenting Diocles, and I smiled at the thought as I sat working on ration requests at my desk.
“Well, I would say that I’d rather just sit here and drink your wine, but I know that you wouldn’t just let me be, so I guess I’ll have to. Where was I? Oh, yes, so Caesar tells them the amount, and Pothinus jumps out of his seat and suddenly gets all haughty and says, ‘I suggest that you go and attend to your other affairs, Caesar. You won’t be getting any money from us now; we’ll pay you at some other time.’”
The astonishment in Diocles’ voice was clear. “And how did that go over?”
Appolonius gave a shaky laugh. “How do you think it went over? Caesar jumped up and said, ‘When I need an Egyptian woman to be my counselor, I will keep you in mind, Pothinus. Until then you should hold your tongue!’ You would have thought Caesar had struck him he was so shocked. Then Caesar threw the lot of them out of the room.”
“So now what?”
Appolonius did not answer, so I assumed he just shrugged. Finally, he said, “I have no idea.”
Appolonius may not have had any idea but thank the gods Caesar did. It was time for him to introduce the third actor in the drama that was playing out, and she was more than eager to be used by him for whatever he had planned, while I would have a minor role in his production.
~ ~ ~ ~
I was summoned to headquarters in the palace without being told why, and I hurried over from my quarters. It was shortly before midnight, but I had not retired yet, making it only a moment to throw on my uniform and get there. Sertorius was the Centurion of the guard, and when I arrived, he was standing with a man wrapped in a nondescript cloak, his head covered by a cloth wound round it, with one end pulled down to partially obscure his face. I had seen many Egyptians wear this style of clothing, but for some reason I did not get the impression that the man with Sertorius wore these clothes naturally. His bearing was haughty, and when he pulled the veil from his face as I approached, I could see that his demeanor matched his posture. At his feet was what looked like either a large carpet or bedding rolled up, but I gave it only a passing glance.
Sertorius spoke to me, indicating the man, “Primus Pilus, this man claims that he bears a gift for Caesar and is seeking an audience. I thought I better inform you.”
I turned to the man, who spoke in flawless Latin. “My name is Apollodorus. I am an adviser to Queen Cleopatra, and I come bearing a gift for Caesar from my liege.”
I looked at him, then down at the bundle, and I remember thinking that it seemed like a paltry gift from a queen whose skin needed saving. Nevertheless, I indicated that he should pick it up and follow me. I probably should have been suspicious when he did not protest at being told he had to carry the gift on his own, since palace types like Apollodorus are about as pampered a lot as you will find, but knowing now what the true nature of the gift was, I can see why he did not protest. Leading him into the palace complex, I guided him towards the wing that served as a combination of Caesar’s private quarters and headquarters, alerting Appolonius to fetch his master. Hirtius and Nero were already there, sensing that something was afoot, and the room used as the headquarters suddenly filled up with the rest of Caesar’s staff. Caesar entered the room, and I had Apollodorus wait at the entrance while making my report. He had set the bundle down again at his feet, but otherwise did not make any move as he stood waiting. Giving my report to Caesar, he told me to allow Apollodorus to enter, indicating that I should wait nearby in the event that there was some treachery afoot. I returned to tell Apollodorus that Caesar would see him, and he bent down to pick up the bundle, then approached Caesar while I waited by the door. Apollodorus spoke, his voice pitched so that all in the room could hear, his tone that of a herald announcing the presence of some important personage, which as it turned out was exactly what he was doing.
“Oh great Caesar, I bring you greetings from Queen Cleopatra, Pharaoh, Lord of the Two Ladies Upper and Lower Egypt, Mistress of Sedge and Bee, Child of Amun-Ra, Isis and Ptah. My mistress has asked that I, Apollodorus, her loyal servant, present you with this humble gift as a token of her esteem and appreciation.”
With that, he untied the ends of the bundle then unrolled it, while all the men in the room crowded around, blocking my view of what was contained in it, but gasps of astonishment and surprise brought me running as I pulled my blade. I was the only man of Centurion rank there, meaning I was the only one fully armed, and I ran to the group of men surrounding what appeared to be a very small person. Getting nearer, I saw that it was indeed a person, and that person was a woman, a very tiny woman, the sight causing me to sheathe my weapon sheepishly. A very tiny, very ugly woman, with a great big nose and hardly any chin at all, although her eyes were large and expressive, even through all the makeup. On her head was a huge wig, and while she wore a gown that I heard described as diaphanous, I do not know what that means. All I know is that you could see through it, and what I saw was not much to my taste. She had curves in the right places, but she was not very well endowed, having almost a boyish figure. Yet Caesar stared down at her in frank admiration and appreciation, and I was struck by an unwelcome thought that perhaps all that talk about he and King Nicomedes was not just malicious gossip. Then I heard her laugh at something he said and even as I watched, her face transformed, and while I cannot say that I suddenly saw her as beautiful, I could see how some men might find her attractive. It has been my experience that high-born men tend to like their women on the frail, pasty side, except I have to think that there might be a link between their women’s physical frailty and the fact that more high-born women seem to die in childbirth than those of the lower classes. Caesar, spotting me, waved me over and I marched to him, rendering a salute.