"It must be a fabulous place to visit."
"Can we go there, Master?" said Mopsus.
"I suspect one has to be rather more important than ourselves to receive an invitation to Antirrhodus."
"Yet here we are, with our own room in the palace," noted Androcles. "Imagine that!"
"Maybe Caesar will take over Antirrhodus, and make it his headquarters, and then-"
"Mopsus, hush! You're not to say a word about Caesar while we're here in the palace. Don't even mention his name. Do you understand?"
He frowned, then saw the seriousness of my expression and nodded. Over the last few years, back in Rome, the boys had learned a thing or two about secrecy and espionage. He turned his attention back to the harbor.
"Some of them are cavalry transports," he noted. "Those ships nearest the lighthouse have horses on the decks."
"Imagine bringing horses all the way from Greece," said Androcles. "Do you think they might be the very horses that… you-know-who… used in the battle at Pharsalus to trample… what's-his-name?"
"What's-his-head, you mean!" Mopsus laughed.
"But look! More Roman soldiers are disembarking from that larger ship onto the smaller one, the one that keeps sailing out from the palace to bring them to that landing area over there."
"More soldiers? Landing area?" I said. "How long has this been going on?"
"Oh, for a while," said Androcles. "The landing area-a sort of big square, on the waterfront-is getting rather full, what with all those Roman soldiers and Egyptian soldiers, and that crowd of people in fancy clothes, and all those banners and pennants. Do you think there's going to be some sort of official meeting between the king and… well… you-know-who? That could be him now, standing amid the soldiers on that Roman galley." He squinted. "He's wearing very fancy-looking armor and a big red cape-like you-know-who."
"And he's bald, like you-know-who. The sunlight off his head is blinding me!" Mopsus laughed.
"What are you two going on about?" I got up from the bed to have a look, but before I reached the window, there was a loud rap at the door.
I nodded to Rupa, who sprang up and pulled the door open. Merianis stood in the hall.
Rupa widened his eyes, then pulled himself erect and squared his impressive shoulders. The boys simply gaped.
Merianis wore an extraordinary gown of some sheer green material embroidered with silver threads and cinched beneath her breasts with a silver cord. The green matched her eyes. As before, she wore lapisencrusted sandals and a lapis necklace, but the stones took on a very different hue when seen next to the green of her gown. The effect, together with her ebony skin, was quite remarkable.
"Can you be ready in half an hour?" she said.
"Ready for what?"
"The lord chamberlain suggests that you wear your best. I assume there's something suitable in that trunk of yours?"
"Nothing remotely as fine as what you're wearing."
"But, Master," said Mopsus, "don't you remember? Before we left the house in Rome, at the very last moment, you decided to bring along your best toga."
"So I did," I said.
"A toga would be splendid!" said Merianis. "The sight of you will make our visitor feel right at home."
"Visitor?"
"Surely you've been watching the assembly gather out on the royal landing? The king desires that you should be in attendance when Caesar arrives."
"I see. I don't suppose I have any choice in the matter?"
"None whatsoever. I'll be back in half an hour to escort you." Merianis smiled, then was gone.
Rupa gave me a look that echoed the question the boys spoke in unison: "Who was that?"
"I'll explain while I dress," I said. "Rupa, would you fetch my toga from the trunk? It must be in there somewhere; let's hope it's not too wrinkled. Androcles, Mopsus, attend me. You know the drill." The boys had been helping me put on my toga ever since I acquired them. Except for their inevitable bickering over who should tuck and hold and who should drape and fold, they had perfected the art. Valuable is the slave who has learned to dress a Roman citizen in his toga so that he emerges looking like something other than a pile of rumpled wool.
I had forbidden the boys to speak the name of the man who was about to set foot in Alexandria. But there was another who was likely to make an appearance that morning, and his name the boys already knew better than to utter in my presence. At the prospect of greeting the presumptive master of the Roman world, I felt a curious absence of emotion. But my heart sped up and my brow became clammy when I considered that I might, within the hour, come face-to-face with the man I had once called my son. How clever the architects of the Ptolemies had been, generation after generation. From without, the palace complex appeared grand, intimidating, and impenetrable. Yet, inside that grandiose edifice, one experienced not a sense of chilly containment, but the simple pleasures of walking through sunlit passageways and quaint courtyards to the music of birdsong and splashing fountains. We might have been strolling through the neatly landscaped gardens and splendidly appointed hallways of some idealized Greek villa, except that the villa went on and on and on. Thus ran my thoughts, all the better to distract me from what was truly on my mind, as I followed Merianis.
"The two slave boys and your mute friend seemed crestfallen when I told them they must stay behind," she remarked.
"I suspect they simply wanted more time to look at you. Especially Rupa."
She smiled. "You look quite splendid yourself."
I laughed. "I'm a gray, wrinkled face peering from a gray, wrinkled toga."
"I think you're rather distinguished."
"And I think you're rather disingenuous, Merianis. But as long as I stand next to you, I don't suppose anyone will notice me anyway. Is it much farther?"
"No. In fact-"
We turned a corner and stepped into a patch of sunlight. I blinked at the bright blue sky above and felt a fresh sea breeze on my face. Before us lay a vast stone-paved square thronged with courtiers in ceremonial wigs or colorful headdresses and elaborate robes. Where the square terminated in steps leading down to the water, a long row of Roman soldiers stood at attention. Companies of Egyptian soldiers were stationed at each corner of the square, and at the very center I saw a canopy with pink-and-yellow tassels, and knew that Ptolemy must be beneath it, seated on his throne.
I assumed we would stay at the edge of the crowd, but Merianis boldly strode forward. When she saw that I hung back, she smiled and took my hand and led me like a child toward the gaudy canopy. Courtiers yielded to her, gatherings of eunuchs stepped back to let her pass, and even the ring of spearmen who circled the king and his retinue broke ranks to let us through. Pothinus stood near the king. He spotted us and strode over.
He spoke in a nervous rush. "At last! What took you so long, Gordianus-called-Finder? The king will be relieved; he was quite insistent that you be here. Watch everything; say nothing. Do you understand?"
I nodded.
"And why on earth are the two of you holding hands?"
Merianis's fingers disengaged from mine.
Pothinus returned to the king's side. There was a blare of trumpets. A small boat had pulled up to the steps. Its occupants disembarked, and through the crowd I caught a glimpse of a familiar balding head. My heart sped up.
The Roman soldiers formed a cordon leading up to the canopy. In the pathway formed by their ranks, a small group came striding toward the king. Foremost among them was Caesar himself. He was dressed not as imperator, in military regalia with a scarlet cape, but as a consul of the Roman people, in a toga with a broad purple border.