"Rome has many magnificent sights," I said, "but no other city has a sight such as this. Have you been to Rome?"
"I've never been outside Alexandria."
"But your Latin is excellent."
"Thank you. We can speak Greek, if you like."
"Which do you prefer, Merianis?"
"I appreciate any opportunity to practice my Latin."
"Then it's a pleasure to accommodate you."
She smiled. "You must be famished after the day's journey. Shall I have food brought to you?"
"I'm not hungry."
"Then perhaps I could help to relieve the strains of the day."
I ran my eyes from the lapis-encrusted sandals on her feet, to the sheer linen skirt that left bare her well-proportioned calves, up to the many-pleated linen mantle that clung to her shoulders and shapely breasts. The mantle left her neck uncovered; a necklace strung with lapis baubles nestled against the silky flesh of her throat.
"I'm rather tired, Merianis."
"It will require no expenditure of energy on your part if I simply give you a massage."
I gave her what I imagined to be a very crooked smile. "I think I should simply lie down and rest for a while. What's through there, by the way?" I asked, noticing a narrow door covered by a curtain in the wall beside the bed.
"Quarters for your slaves and for the young man traveling with you."
"Rupa and the boys? Where are they?"
"They'll be here soon, along with your trunk. The wagon in which they traveled and the mules that pulled it will be delivered to the cousin of the owner, as was your intention."
I looked at her more closely, scrutinizing her emerald green eyes. "I took you for a slave, Merianis."
"I am a slave-of Isis. I serve the goddess and belong to her completely, body and soul, in this world and in the next."
"You're a priestess?"
"Yes. I'm attached to the temple of Isis within the palace. But in her absence-"
"Absence? Surely Isis isn't off on a trip somewhere."
"As a matter of fact, my mistress is away from the palace."
I nodded. "You speak of Queen Cleopatra."
"Who is also Isis. They are one and the same. Queen Cleopatra is the incarnation of Isis, just as King Ptolemy is the incarnation of Osiris."
"I see. Why are you not with her now?"
Merianis hesitated. "When she took her leave, my mistress left the palace… rather abruptly. I was unable to accompany her. Besides, my duties keep me here in the palace, close to the temple. Among many other tasks, I see to the comfort of distinguished visitors such as yourself."
I laughed. "I'm not sure what distinguishes me, except a multitude of misfortunes. But I am thankful for your hospitality, Merianis."
She bowed her head. "Isis will be pleased."
"Will you be seeing to the comfort of that other distinguished Roman who's come to visit Alexandria?"
She cocked her head quizzically.
I strode to the window. "The one in the harbor. Surely you've noticed that fleet of Roman warships out there?"
She joined me at the window. "There are thirty-five Roman ships in all; I counted them myself. Is it true that you know Caesar?"
I drew breath to answer, then stopped short. Weariness and an excess of emotion had dulled my mind; otherwise, I would have realized, before that moment, the likelihood that the woman who stood beside me-exotic, beautiful, well-spoken, enticingly available-was something more than a servant or priestess. With the king and queen at war with one another, the palace must be filled with spies. Glancing sidelong at Merianis, feeling her nearness, smelling the heady scent of spikenard from her dark flesh, I could easily imagine a man letting down his guard in her presence and saying things better left unsaid.
I turned my gaze to the harbor. The long day was slipping gradually toward nightfall. Ships cast long shadows on flat water pierced by dazzling flashes of reflected sunlight. The Pharos cast the mightiest shadow of all, darkening the entire entrance to the harbor. Beyond, the open sea extended to seeming infinity. I thought of the Nile emptying endlessly into that sea, carrying all that was lost or scattered in its waters…
"I'm weary, Merianis. Leave me now."
"As you wish." She departed without another word, leaving a faint scent of spikenard behind.
How long I stood at the window, I had no idea. The sun continued to sink until it touched a point on the horizon where the earth met the sea; it was then swallowed in a great effulgence of crimson and purple mist. The great harbor grew dark. On the Roman galleys, lamps were lit. Lamps were likewise lit on the great causeway, called the Heptastadion, that swept from the city out to the island of Pharos. Beyond that causeway lay another, smaller harbor to the south, the Eunostos, or Harbor of Good Return; near its center, an archway in the Heptastadion allowed ships to sail from one harbor into the other.
There was a knock at the door. Merianis, I thought, and part of me was glad.
But when I opened the door, I saw not the priestess of Isis but the wide-eyed face of Rupa, whose expression declared his astonishment at being inside the royal palace. I lowered my eyes and saw two more astonished faces peering back at me.
"Androcles! Mopsus! You have no idea-"
"How happy we are to see you!" cried the boys in unison, throwing their arms around me. Rupa looked as if he would gladly have hugged me, too, had there been room enough in the narrow doorway.
"But where have you been all this time?" said Androcles.
"And was that really you we caught a glimpse of, on the king's barge?" said Mopsus.
"And look at that!" said Androcles, running to the window. "It's the lighthouse, bigger than a mountain! And all those boats in the harbor! Roman galleys, someone said, with Caesar himself aboard one of them."
Slaves carried my trunk into the room, followed by more slaves bearing trays of steaming food. Until the smell reached my nose, I had no idea how hungry I was.
Mopsus said, "When you were with the king, did he show you Pompey's-"
"Eat now, talk later!" I said, my stomach growling. We would have to be careful when we did speak, for in such a place the floors had ears to listen, and the walls had eyes to watch. But after we ate-great steaming bowls of barley soup, pigeon meat roasted on skewers, spicy lentil wafers, and cups of beer to wash it all down-there was no talk at all, only sleep, as I fell against my pillow and left it to Rupa and the boys to find their own beds.
CHAPTER XI
"Thirty-three, thirty-four, thirty-five. Yes! Thirty-five Roman galleys in the harbor," declared Mopsus, who had just counted them for the second time. Morning light glinted on the water and lit the face of the Pharos. The room smelled of the freshly baked bread that slaves had delivered for our breakfast. I sat back against the cushions on my bed, gnawing a piece of hard crust, while the boys stood at the window. Rupa sat on the trunk, shaking his head, amused at the boys and their perpetual squabbling.
"Thirty-five? You missed one. I counted thirty-six!" insisted Androcles.
"Then you miscounted," said Mopsus.
"I did not!"
"You never could count higher than the sum of your fingers and toes," said Mopsus.
"Nonsense! You obviously missed one. Did you count that one with the gorgon head at the prow? I never saw such a fearsome ramming beak on a ship!"
"Where?"
"You can barely see it, because it's mostly blocked by the buildings on that island. What's the name of that island in the harbor, Master?"
"It's called Antirrhodus, and it belongs to the king. Those buildings are his private estate, with their own little harbor within the harbor."