“So it does. We will be leaving for Petra earlier than planned. That is, if you and your friend are still planning to join me?”
Before it had passed into the hands of Alexander the Great, before it had been moved to Alexandria, the Ark, through Hannah’s family, had been kept under the protection of the Nubians for many years. Centuries had passed, but the people of Kush had not forgotten their long-ago charge. When they had seen it on Elephantine, when they had witnessed its power, they had worshipped the Ark and once more taken it into their protection. But the Kandake knew that it could not forever remain in Meroë. Rome was coming, sooner or later. It was only a matter of time and circumstance before it would need to be moved to Petra, to the place where Hannah and Caesarion had wanted to see it go before they died. “We will go with you,” Vorenus said. “All of us.”
Syllaeus smiled as if this was the finest news he’d heard in days. “Excellent. I’ll make the final arrangements. We will leave in the morning. With Rome on the way, we will need to take a longer route east from here to reach the seaports, but I’ll see to it that things are comfortable for your, ah, cargo.”
The Nabataean paused for the briefest of moments, and Vorenus kept his face impassive, the way he suspected Caesarion would have, the way Cleopatra would have expected.
“And of course for the two of you and the little one,” Syllaeus continued. Then his eyes perked up. “Ah! Speaking of them now…”
The two of them turned toward the palace, and Pullo came lumbering out onto the balcony with his familiar half-limp. On his broad shoulders sat little Miriam, her brown hair bouncing lightly as she held up her hand to shield her eyes from the light of the sun. She laughed, a sound so innocent and pure that Vorenus knew it would never fail to lift the spirits of his heart. Pullo, too, was beaming.
Vorenus couldn’t help but smile. Though he himself was more and more prone to thoughts of the darkness, his old friend had somehow regained some of his old, familiar mirth since Elephantine. Vorenus was thankful for it each and every day.
“I’ll take leave of you all,” Syllaeus said. He bowed, then swept back into the palace depths, whistling.
“Uncle Vor-nus,” Miriam said, smiling as Pullo put an extra bounce in his step. “They’re starting.”
Vorenus grinned and reached up to jiggle a finger playfully at her rib. She giggled and pushed his hand away. “So they are, little one. Are you wanting to go down to watch?”
The three-year-old clapped. “Down!”
Vorenus nodded sagely, then tilted his head toward the balcony edge. “All right, Pullo. Over she goes.”
Pullo stepped forward and Miriam squealed in mirth, seemingly ready to take flight. The girl, near as they could tell, feared nothing in the world. Vorenus prayed that this would always be so.
When the big man didn’t throw her, she grabbed his gray hair in her little fists and tugged. “Pul-lo. Fly!”
Pullo winced and grinned. “Just for that, Miri, I think we will be taking the stairs.”
“Probably for the best,” Vorenus said. “You need wings to fly.”
Miriam spread her arms as if she were a bird. “I don’t think so,” the girl said. “I’ll show you one day.”
“I don’t doubt it.” Vorenus looked at his old friend. “Syllaeus says Rome will hit Napata soon. So we will leave tomorrow. Can you be ready?”
Pullo nodded, bouncing the little girl in distraction, then looked down to the temple and almost laughed. “Is that what I think it is?”
Vorenus peered down where he was staring, and he saw the procession moving toward the temple steps. Four men were carrying a small platform on their shoulders, and a head of bronze was upon it. It gleamed and flashed in the sun, so bright that even Pullo’s bad eyes had been able to make it out: the head of the tall statue of Augustus that had stood over the harbor at Elephantine. “It is indeed. I think they’re going to bury it under the steps of the temple. That way anyone who comes there will step on it.”
Pullo let out a hearty, booming laugh. “I like these people.”
“I do, too,” Vorenus agreed. He smiled, though he worried over what the future would hold.
“Let’s go,” Miriam said plaintively.
Pullo nodded. “As our lady says.”
The big man started to turn away when something else caught Vorenus’ eye in the light. Vorenus stopped them, and he reached up to push the necklace that had been Miriam’s mother’s back into her tunic. He patted it there, against her skin. “Remember to keep it safe,” he said.
“So she can keep me safe,” the little girl said.
Vorenus smiled. He’d have time to cry after they were gone. “That’s right. Now run along, you two. I’ll catch up.”
Pullo headed back into the palace. From his shoulders, Miriam was asking whether she’d be able to see through the crowds. Watching him bend to keep from hitting her head on the high palace archway, Vorenus just smiled as he let the tears come.
* * *
The story of the Shards of Heaven continues in
BOOK 3: THE REALMS OF GOD
GLOSSARY OF CHARACTERS
Aelius Gallus. Roman prefect of Egypt, he led an expedition to Arabia Felix that can only be described as disastrous. His Nabataean guide, Syllaeus, seems to have purposely led the Roman legions to their destination by the longest route possible, and most of the men died from the desert heat or unexpected disease over the six months they spent wandering. Worse, his long absence from Egypt left it open to a crippling attack from its Nubian neighbors in Kush.
Alexander Helios. Son of Mark Antony and Cleopatra VII, twin brother of Cleopatra Selene, he was likely born in the year 40 BCE. He disappears from reliable historical records after the fall of Alexandria in 30 BCE.
Alexander the Great. Alexander III, born in Macedon in 356 BCE, succeeded his father as king in 336. In his youth he led a number of Greek city-states to revolt against what had been a Macedonian-led alliance, and Alexander quickly set in motion a series of campaigns that led him as far north as the Danube and solidified his position as ruler of a united Greek state. Alexander subsequently moved his armies east against the Persian Empire, then the largest and most powerful state in the known world. He led his men to conquer Asia Minor and Syria, routing the Persian armies and defeating city after city. In 332 he entered Egypt, where he was declared to be the son of Ammon, an Egyptian deity. For reasons unknown, he faced off with the armies of the Kush but refused to fight them. Instead of continuing his campaign south into Africa, he moved north and founded the famed city of Alexandria, which subsequently became the capital of Egypt. Returning east, he captured Babylon and put an end to the Persian Empire before entering central Asia and defeating several states. Alexander then journeyed toward India, where his armies, though successful, finally balked at fighting farther from their Greek homes. Throughout his long career, he is said never to have lost a battle, and though severely wounded on several occasions, he was still reportedly vigorously strong. Nevertheless, he died under uncertain circumstances shortly after returning to Babylon in 323 BCE. After his death, he was placed in a golden sarcophagus, which made its way to Alexandria, and his world-spanning empire soon broke into rival states. His golden sarcophagus was melted down around 81 BCE by Pharaoh Ptolemy IX Lathyros when he was short of money (an act for which the angry citizens of Alexandria soon killed him). Alexander’s miraculously preserved body was at that time transferred to a crystal sarcophagus, which remained on display in the city until its disappearance around AD 400.
Apion. An Alexandrian scholar who wrote a commentary on Homer, he would later become famous for writing an anti-Jewish tract that was replied to by Josephus in his Against Apion.