"And she looked upon the face of Alexander," I said, gazing once more into the statue's eyes and feeling irrationally flummoxed that I should be the first to blink and look away.
Caesar nodded. "Upon Alexander's death, Egypt devolved upon his general Ptolemy, and this statue became an heirloom of the new royal family. Do you know, I thought, when I first stepped into this room-knowing that King Ptolemy had chosen it for my personal quarters-I thought that this statue had been brought here especially to impress me, to make me feel at home, since Venus is my ancestor. But if you look at the way the pedestal fits against the floor, it's obvious that she's occupied this room for a very long time, perhaps for generations. So it seems that the guest was fitted to the room, and not the room to the guest." He smiled. "And if you look very closely-here, Gordianus, step closer, she won't bite-you can see that there's a very fine, very slightly discolored line around her neck. Do you see?"
I frowned. "Yes. The head must have been broken off at some point, then reattached."
"Exactly. And when I noticed that, I had to wonder: Did that wretched eunuch give me this room because he knows that Venus is my ancestor, and he wished to flatter me? Or did he install me here so as to give me yet another not-so-subtle reminder that anyone-even a deity-can lose a head?"
I took my eyes from the Venus and stepped toward another of the windows. This one faced east, in the direction of the Jewish Quarter. In the open region beyond the city walls, I discerned the meandering course of the canal that led toward Canopus and the Nile beyond. "You have spectacular views."
"You should see them in the daytime. The harbor on one side, the lake on the other-it's hard to imagine a more ideal location for a city.
One can see why Alexander thought that he might someday rule the whole world from this spot, once he finished conquering it."
"But he never had the chance," I said. "Before he could enjoy the fruits of his conquests, he died." A stillness filled the room. Even the Venus seemed to hold her breath, taken aback to hear words of evil omen.
"The evening is warm," Caesar said. "Shall we dine outside, on the terrace overlooking the harbor?"
I followed him onto the flagstone terrace, which was lit by braziers set upon bronze tripods with lion's feet. He took one couch, and I took the other. The moonlight upon the lighthouse skewed my sense of perspective and created the illusion that the tower was a miniature replica, and that if I were to reach out beyond the balustrade, I might lay my hand upon it.
I looked to the west, where a massive structure rose even higher than the room in which Caesar was installed. "What's over there?"
"That's the theater, which presents a steep wall toward the town and opens to the harbor, to which it has access. It's directly adjacent to this building; the space between is quite narrow and could easily be fortified."
"Fortified?"
"Yes, with stones, piled-up rubble, that sort of thing. I've been thinking that the theater could serve very nicely as a citadel, easily defended from attack on the landward side, open for reinforcements from the sea."
"Do you anticipate the need for such a stronghold?"
"Officially? No. But assessing the lay of the land has become second nature to me. Wherever I go, I look for strongholds, points of weakness, hiding places, overlooks." He smiled. "I arrived here in Egypt with a relatively small force, Gordianus, hardly more than an honor guard; but a small number of well-trained men can hold their own against far greater numbers, if their position is carefully chosen."
"Will there be warfare in the city, then?"
"Not if warfare can possibly be avoided. But one must be prepared for all eventualities, especially in a place as volatile as Alexandria."
"I see. There appear to be only two couches here on the terrace. Is it only the two of us for dinner?"
"Why not? Since my arrival in Alexandria, this will be the first night I've dined with anyone who's not a military man, a diplomat, a eunuch, or a spy."
I stiffened at the last word.
Caesar fixed me with a sardonic gaze. "I am right, am I not, Gordianus? You're not… a eunuch, are you?"
He laughed. I did my best to laugh with him. He clapped his hands. A moment later the first course arrived, a platter of tilapia fish in a saffron brine. The server was apparently Caesar's taster, as well. As he was displaying the dish for his master's approval, he whispered, "Absolutely delicious!"
Caesar smiled. "This meal is an indulgence for me, Gordianus. Pothinus has been quite stingy with apportioning rations to my men, claiming shortages in the city, though it seems to me that the king's courtiers are quite well fed. But as long as the eunuch starves my men, I eat what they eat-except on a special occasion such as this."
Caesar ate with relish. I had little appetite.
"I still don't understand why you wished to see me," I said.
"Gordianus! You act as if I summoned you here with the intention of interrogating you. I merely asked Pothinus to convey an invitation to dinner, so that we could talk."
"About what?"
"You gave me a bit of a start that day on the landing, when I saw you among the king's retinue. Before I could point you out to Meto, you vanished. Later, I asked Pothinus, and he confirmed that it was indeed Gordianus the Finder I had seen, wearing a toga and standing by that extraordinary female. I'm curious to know how you came to be in Alexandria."
"Did you not ask Pothinus?"
"I did, but I have no reason to believe anything that eunuch tells me. I should prefer to hear the truth from you."
I dropped any pretense of interest in the tilapia and gazed at the lighthouse. "I came to Egypt with my wife, Bethesda. She was ill. She desired to bathe in the Nile, believing its waters would cure her. Instead… she was lost in the river."
Caesar gestured for the slave to remove the fish. "Then it's true. Pothinus told me as much. You have my sympathy, Gordianus. I know, from Meto, how dearly you loved your wife." He was silent for a moment. "You must understand that this puts me in a delicate position. Meto doesn't yet realize that you're here in Alexandria."
"No? But that day, on the landing, I saw you speak to him, just after you recognized me. He turned to look in my direction…"
"And saw no one, except of course that extraordinary female, who was suddenly standing all alone, because you had disappeared. I never mentioned your name. I merely asked Meto to take a look at the man in the toga and tell me if my eyes deceived me. When he looked and saw no man in a toga, I let the matter drop-you may recall that I was rather busy with another small matter, exchanging greetings with the king of Egypt. Later, meeting privately with Pothinus-without Meto-I inquired about you, and Pothinus gave me an account of your arrival in Egypt. I saw no point in passing the tale on, third-hand, to Meto, at least not until I could speak to you in person. As a result, Meto remains unaware that you're in Alexandria, and he knows nothing of the tragic news about your wife-and it hardly seems fitting that I should tell him, when you're here. Surely the sad news should come from his father."
My heart jumped in my chest. "You didn't invite him to come here tonight, did you?"
"No. Meto doesn't know with whom I'm dining tonight, only that I asked to be given complete privacy." He laughed. "Perhaps he thinks I'm having a liaison with that extraordinary female."
"Her name is Merianis," I said.
Caesar smiled. "As a rule, I prefer to keep Meto close to me at all times. He maintains the official diary of all my comings and goings-without his notes I'd find it impossible to write my memoirs-but I do occasionally draw a breath or eat a meal without him. Your son won't be joining us tonight."