I smiled sadly. "Yes, Rupa, I agree. In her own way, Arsinoe is magnificent."
He nodded vigorously. I saw a bemused look on his face and tears in his eyes.
Oh, Rupa! I thought. It's no good for a fellow like you to have such feelings for a princess-especially a princess who'll be dead tomorrow.
XII
"So, you managed to endure them both in one day," said Calpurnia. "Which sister struck you as the more wicked?"
The last rays of sunlight from the windows illuminated the room with a soft glow; it was not quite the hour of lighting lamps. Caesar's wife and her haruspex sat side by side while Rupa and I remained standing. Porsenna's yellow costume was the brightest thing in the room; it seemed to absorb all the ambient light and cast it back again.
"'Wicked' is not necessarily a word I would use to describe either of them," I said. "They're not as simple as that."
"Nonsense! Don't tell me you've been taken in by the so-called Ptolemaic mystique, Finder-this absurd notion they put about regarding their supposed divinity."
I raised an eyebrow. "The new statue of Caesar on the Capitoline declares him to be a demigod, I believe."
"Descending from a goddess and incarnating a goddess are two different things," she said.
"I'll have to take your word for that."
Calpurnia ignored my sardonic tone. "All this fuss they make about the many generations of their royal line, going back to the first Ptolemy. When did he reign? Two hundred and fifty years ago? My own family descends from King Numa, and he lived more than six hundred years ago. The Ptolemies are mere upstarts compared to the Calpurnii. Isn't that right, Uncle Gnaeus?"
She nodded to the white-haired priest, who had just stepped into the room.
Gnaeus Calpurnius gave his niece a kiss on the forehead. He snapped his fingers. A slave brought a chair.
Uncle Gnaeus sat down with a grunt. "That is correct, my dear; our line is far more ancient than that of the Ptolemies. And what did any Ptolemy ever achieve, compared to the accomplishments of our ancestor Numa? Numa established the order of the Vestal virgins. He set the dates for the holy festivals and sacrifices, prescribed the rituals for venerating the gods, and established the priesthoods for performing these sacred duties. Through the mediation of his beloved, the nymph Egeria, he communed with great Jupiter himself. What did any Ptolemy ever do, except build a lighthouse?"
Which you obviously have never seen, you pompous fool! I thought. The Pharos lighthouse was the tallest building on earth, with a beacon visible across a vast expanse of land and sea, a true wonder of the world. It was likely to still be standing long after Numa's decrepit reckoning of days was long forgotten, supplanted by Caesar's new calendar-which had been devised by scholars from the library established by the Ptolemies.
I refrained from saying any of this. Uncle Gnaeus's boasting was merely a distraction. Calpurnia wanted to know whether Cleopatra or Arsinoe posed any threat to her husband. Hieronymus's notes on his visits were worthless in this regard. I had to rely on my own observations and instincts.
"It's my belief that the Queen of Egypt came to Rome with one goal in mind: to persuade Caesar to acknowledge her son as his offspring."
"Something he will never do!" said Calpurnia. "For one thing, the child isn't Caesar's. Porsenna has studied the matter."
"Is that right?" I said.
The haruspex smiled. "I managed to obtain a few strands of the boy's hair, never mind how. I performed a sacrifice. When the hair and the entrails of the sacrificial beast were burned, the pattern of the smoke clearly indicated that the child has no Roman blood whatsoever. The science of haruspicy is never wrong in such matters."
"It's probably the whelp of that lackey of hers, the one who toted her about inside a carpet," said Uncle Gnaeus. "Any woman who would resort to such an indignity would probably allow even a servant to have his way with her."
I doubted this. If there was anything Cleopatra took seriously, it was the dignity of her person. For a woman who considered herself a goddess, copulation was a serious and sacred matter. "Is Caesar aware of the results of this divination?"
Calpurnia made a face. "Caesar does not always accord sufficient importance to the ancient ways of knowing."
"He observes the rituals, but he lacks true understanding." Uncle Gnaeus shook his head.
"Enough, Uncle!" said Calpurnia sharply. "Now is not the time to discuss Caesar's deficiencies in matters of religious insight. Let the Finder finish his report."
"As I said, the queen came to Rome hoping to establish her son's legitimacy. She hoped tomorrow's triumph might celebrate that event. Her intentions have been thwarted. I think she misunderstood how the Roman people might react to such an announcement. I think she misunderstood the true nature of a Roman triumph. Caesar corrected her mistaken viewpoints."
"What does she intend to do now?" said Calpurnia.
"Cleopatra is a pragmatic woman-pragmatic enough to hide in a carpet if it serves her purpose. But she's also tremendously willful. I wouldn't want to disappoint her. I certainly wouldn't want to be her enemy."
"And is Caesar, having disappointed her, now her enemy?"
"I don't know. Perhaps you should ask Caesar what he thinks. I'm much more certain about the feelings of Princess Arsinoe. I have no doubt that she would do away with both Caesar and Cleopatra, if she possibly could."
"But how could she do such a thing?"
"Does Arsinoe have allies in the city? With your network of agents, you're more likely to know that than I am, Calpurnia."
"But what is your feeling about these Egyptians, Finder? What does your instinct tell you?"
What a question, from the once hardheaded Calpurnia! Had she entirely abandoned cold logic and deduction in favor of divination and intuition?
I sighed. "Here is what I think. Cleopatra almost certainly could kill Caesar if she wanted to, but she probably doesn't. Arsinoe would kill him without hesitation if she could, but she almost certainly can't."
"Then Caesar will survive tomorrow's triumph?" Calpurnia looked at her uncle, then at the haruspex, and finally at me. She was demanding reassurance.
"I have no reason to think otherwise," I said, and prayed to Fortuna that I was right.
Rupa and I crossed the Palatine at twilight. The streets were almost deserted. For many people, this had been a day to recover from the festivities of the Gallic Triumph and to rest up for the next day's Egyptian Triumph. The only people stirring were slaves on ladders outside houses, setting torches in sconces to light the doorways and illuminate patches of the street.
We rounded a corner. My house came into sight, a little way down the winding street. A small company of armed lictors was standing outside my door. Rupa gripped my arm to alert me.
"Yes, I see them, Rupa. Lictors at the door-never a good sign." I tried to keep my tone light, but my heart was pounding.
The nearer we drew, the bigger the lictors appeared. Every one of them was half a head taller than Rupa and considerably broader. Veritable giants, they were; quite possibly Gauls, I thought, next to whom the Romans are a little people. Gallic senators, Gallic lictors-one of the chief complaints one heard against Caesar nowadays was that he had infested the city with Gauls. He had exterminated the Gauls who opposed him-Vercingetorix was presumably the last-and those who remained were loyal only to Caesar. Or were they? Everywhere I looked now, I sought threats to Caesar. Could even his own lictors be trusted?
But more to the point: what were the dictator's bodyguards doing outside my house?
As I approached the door, never breaking my stride, one of the men stepped forward to block my way.