Ptolemy strode forward, stumbling slightly as he stepped off the dais. The speechless crowd parted and made way for him. The Egyptian guards at the doorway fell back, genuflecting. He was like the prow of a ship, plowing through waves and wind, deflecting all before him.
Merianis grabbed my arm. "Come!" she whispered.
"Where? What are you thinking of, Merianis?"
"Come! Don't you want to see whatever happens next?"
I looked over my shoulder as we hurried after the disappearing king. Pothinus was pale and grim. Caesar looked utterly at a loss, which was quite out of character. Cleopatra, who had not stirred from her throne and seemed to have no intention of doing so, wore a smile like that of the Sphinx.
"Hurry!" said Merianis, tugging at my arm. She was intent on following the king. His robes billowed behind him as he rushed through the hallways of the palace, never pausing until he came to the courtyard inside the gates. He shouted at the guards to open the gates. When they hesitated, he threatened to have them beheaded. The men rushed to the wheels, and the gates slowly opened.
The king ran into the street. Merianis and I followed, along with a great number of others from the palace.
Ptolemy strode down the wide Argeus. By appearing suddenly, dressed in his crown and robes of state but walking on foot and unattended by any formal retinue, he created a sensation. All who saw him stopped whatever they were doing. Some fell to their knees in awe. Some smiled and cheered. Some simply gawked. All joined in the growing throng that followed at his heels.
At length he arrived at the great intersection of the Argeus and the Canopic Way, where the tombs of his ancestors occupied each of the four corners. The building housing the body of Alexander was his destination. He strode past the sightseers standing in line to view the remains. The guards were taken aback by his sudden appearance, but quickly recovered themselves. They admitted the king but expelled all others, or else I think Merianis would have followed right behind him, dragging me with her. Instead, we stepped into the great square, which was already crowded with people arriving from all directions.
A few moments later the king appeared on a balcony that projected from the upper story of the building. Even at a considerable distance, I could see the streaks of tears on his face.
"People of Egypt!" he shouted. His voice rang through the square. "My beloved people! The Romans have robbed me of my throne! Egypt has been conquered in a single night! We are all the slaves of Rome now!"
There was an uproar all around us. Cries of anger and despair rang in my ears, along with scattered catcalls and peals of laughter. Most in the crowd appeared to love the king, but there were some who despised him.
Ptolemy's voice pierced the cacophony. "Here I stand in the building that houses our venerated Alexander, the greatest of all conquerors, the most beloved of all heroes, the demigod for whom our city is named, from whose authority the Ptolemies for centuries have traced the legitimacy of their divine rule. But now a man has come along who fancies himself greater than even Alexander. He thinks so little of us that he doesn't arrive with a great navy supporting him, or a great army marching at his back; he intends to conquer us by trickery and deceit! I confess to you, my people, for a while he dazzled even me, and I gave to him a warmer welcome than he deserved. I allowed him into the royal palace; I shared food and drink with him; I listened to his vain boasting. But now my eyes are open! If the Roman has his way, he'll throw Alexander's body upon a dung heap, tear down this tomb, and put up a monument to himself! Perhaps he'll even rename the city for himself, and you shall wake up to find yourselves living in Caesaropolis!"
The crowd responded with thunderous shouting. Ptolemy gazed grimly over the square, projecting an authority far beyond his years.
"People of Alexandria, as conniving as Caesar may be, he knows that you will never submit to a Roman who dares to sit openly upon the throne of Egypt-so he seeks to cast me from my throne and put a pretender in my place. Who might that be? What creature with a claim to the royal bloodline would be low enough to conspire with our enemy? I think you know her name! With shame, I call her my sister. For her previous attempts to seize the throne, we drove her out of the city and into the wilderness. Alas, that we didn't cut the serpent in two, for now she's come wriggling back, bloated with venom. To take my throne from me, she'll stop at nothing! Yes, Cleopatra is back in the palace."
At this announcement, there were scattered cheers among the crowd, for Cleopatra as well as Ptolemy had her adherents among the populace. Others booed, and fistfights and shouting matches broke out.
"The serpent has returned," Ptolemy cried. "Last night she made herself a prostitute to Caesar. Today he's giving her the payment due-the crown that should be mine and mine alone!"
"Then what is that cobra sprouting from your forehead?" shouted a wag in the crowd.
"This?" Ptolemy shouted back. "This meaningless toy, this worthless piece of scrap?" He lifted the uraeus crown from his head and cast it down with all his might. The metal rang against the stone balcony.
The crowd reacted with stunned silence, followed by a sudden surge of movement that lifted me off my feet. I looked around and saw Merianis disappear amid a sea of gaping, angry, frightened faces.
"Soldiers, coming from the palace!" someone shouted.
"Roman soldiers! They mean to kill the king!"
"We'll kill them first! Kill every Roman in Alexandria!"
"Long live Cleopatra!"
"Long live Ptolemy! Death to Cleopatra!"
"Death to Caesar!"
"Death to all the Romans!"
Swords flashed. Stones flew through the air. Blood was spattered across paving stones. A women screamed in my ear. I tripped over a child, and someone helped me stagger back to my feet. I heard the sound of splashing, and realized I was next to the great fountain at the center of the square. Amid the cavorting dryads and gaping crocodiles, a dead body floated facedown, exuding a sickening pinkish murk. A pebble whizzed over my head-too fast to have been thrown by hand, it must have been cast from a slingshot-and struck the helmet of a Roman soldier nearby with a noise that made my ears ring. He furiously slashed his sword in the direction the shot had come from.
I ducked. As I did so, I happened to look over the soldier's head, and saw that the balcony where Ptolemy had stood was now empty. What had become of the king?
And what would become of me? For all I knew, the riot would keep growing until the whole city was in chaos. I stretched to my full height, peering over the heads of those around me, trying to catch a glimpse of the palace. The whole length of the Argeus, from the fountain back to the gates, was packed with an angry mob. As I stood precariously balanced on tiptoes, a group of young men came running by, brandishing sticks. "Get out of the way, old man!" one of them shouted. "The Romans have carried off the king, and they mean to kill him!"
"We'll kill them first!" another shouted.
They jostled me and spun me about and almost knocked me down.
A hand grabbed my shoulder, pulling me upright. It was too strong to be that of Merianis-a man's grip. I tried to shake free and step away, but the grip tightened. I braced myself and turned to confront him.
"Rupa!" I cried. "How in Hades did you get here?"
CHAPTER XVIII
Rupa grunted in reply and pointed toward the building that housed the Tomb of Alexander.
I wrinkled my brow. "I don't understand."
He pointed more insistently, then grabbed my hand and pulled me in the direction in which he was pointing. His sheer size caused a path to open in the crowd; anyone foolish enough to stand in our way he brusquely pushed aside. By nature, Rupa was the gentlest of men, but when called upon, he knew how to wield the strength the gods had given him.