He shook his head. "The purpose for this festive occasion takes precedence over all else, Gordianus, including any news you may have for me. I'm on the verge of announcing a glorious peace in Egypt. I will not interrupt the banquet, not even for this. Step closer and whisper into my ear, if you wish."
I dropped to one knee before him. He leaned forward and inclined his head.
"Meto is innocent, Consul. I can prove it, here and now, if you'll allow it."
"How?"
"Bring the amphora of Falernian that Meto brought to Antirrhodus. Have it tasted-"
"And kill another pretty temple slave?"
"The taster will not die, because the amphora was never poisoned. I'll drink from it myself, if you wish."
He drew back, just enough to look me in the eye. "What are you saying, Gordianus?"
"The wine in the amphora was never poisoned."
He thought for a moment. "But at the queen's behest, the wine from the golden cup was poured back into the amphora-"
"Nor was there ever poison in the golden cup the queen presented to Caesar."
Caesar frowned. "And yet, the temple slave Zoe most certainly died." "Because her cup was poisoned-the clay cup from which she and she alone ever drank, and that later was broken when she fell. That cup and only that cup was poisoned! Do you remember? When Merianis fetched her, Zoe brought her own cup with her-"
"And Merianis proceeded to fill that cup with wine from the golden cup."
"But the wine itself was untainted. The poison was already in Zoe's cup, put there without Zoe's knowledge."
"Put there by whom?"
"Perhaps by the person who fetched her," I said, though it was hard to imagine that Merianis was capable of such cold-blooded treachery.
"But the alabaster vial was later found upon Meto."
"The vial was planted upon Meto by Apollodorus. And who went to fetch Apollodorus?" I kept my eyes lowered, but Caesar looked past me, toward Merianis.
"You're saying both were involved-Merianis and Apollodorus?"
"At least those two," I said, thinking of a third but not daring to say her name.
"But why? What was their purpose?"
"Of that I'm not sure, Consul. But consider: Meto distrusted the queen; Meto despaired of the queen's… influence… upon you. The queen-those near the queen, I mean-might wish to see Meto discredited. How better to do that than to make him appear guilty of a crime against the consul?"
Caesar looked at me gravely. "What you suggest is monstrous, Gordianus. Without naming her, you implicate a certain person in a plot to deceive me. If that should be true, then the purpose of this banquet is negated. I should have to reconsider who should inherit the late king's throne, and whether that throne should be shared." He looked toward Ptolemy and sighed. "Considering whose army has occupied Alexandria, it would certainly be easier to simply…"
His voice trailed off. I thought he was lost in thought, until I followed his gaze and saw that someone else was approaching the dais. So I must have appeared, I thought, as I looked upon the face of Samuel, Caesar's barber. The little man threaded his way between the dining couches, resolute but trembling slightly, anxiously shifting his gaze from face to face, looking as if he had swallowed something very bitter.
"What now?" muttered Caesar.
Samuel hurried to the dais. The guards looked to Caesar for instruction and stepped back at his signal.
"What do you want, Samuel?"
"Master, I must speak to you at once." He glanced at Pothinus, who frowned. "In private…"
Caesar looked at me askance. "You appear to have a twin tonight, Gordianus, like the Gemini." He looked at the barber. "Come, Samuel. Gordianus has one of my ears. You may have the other."
The little fellow scrambled onto the dais and rushed to his master's side. He knelt and pressed a scrap of papyrus into Caesar's hand. While Caesar read, Samuel whispered in his ear. The barber spoke in a frantic rush, too low for me to hear, and Caesar held the papyrus so that I could not read it, though I caught a glimpse of Greek letters. The news caused the color to drain from Caesar's cheeks.
Caesar lowered the parchment. He raised his hand to Samuel, signaling that he had heard enough. "Pothinus," he said, looking straight ahead. His voice was low and even, but something in his tone chilled my blood.
"Consul?" Pothinus furrowed his brow.
"Come here, Pothinus."
The eunuch cleared his throat. There was a tremor in his voice. "The lord chamberlain of the king of Egypt is not a servant to be summoned by anyone other than the king, not even the consul of-
"Pothinus, come here!" Caesar's voice was like thunder.
The eunuch stood. Ptolemy looked from Pothinus to Caesar and back. For a brief moment I saw confusion on the king's face, before he assumed the masklike countenance at which he was so adept.
Pothinus stepped toward Caesar, slowly and carefully, as one might approach a lion. "What does the consul require?"
Caesar thrust the papyrus toward him. "Were these words written by your hand, Lord Chamberlain?"
Pothinus flashed a supercilious grin. "The lord chamberlain is accustomed to dictating documents; the actual writing is done by a scribe-"
"Unless the words in a letter are too sensitive to be heard by even the most trusted scribe-or overheard by all the spies who lurk in the walls of this palace."
Pothinus glared at Samuel, and then at Caesar. "I think the consul is no stranger at playing spymaster himself."
Caesar cast a fond glance at Samuel. "Some of my men occasionally make a jest at Samuel's expense. They call him timorous; they say he jumps at the sight of his own shadow. But that fearful quality makes Samuel very observant. Some make fun of his small stature; but that quality, too, has its virtues, for it helps a man to come and go unobserved, and sometimes even to walk through walls."
"Then you admit that this wretch has been spying on me!"
"Samuel merely looks out for his master's safety. He needs no instruction from me. But, yes, Samuel has been observing you, Pothinus. He knows your movements. He watched you write this letter, which, at Samuel's request, some of my men seized from your messenger. The messenger can be tortured to divulge the source of the letter-or you can simply admit that you wrote it, Pothinus."
"Lies! The creature has fabricated this elaborate deceit. He's betrayed you, Consul. He makes you look a fool."
"I think not, Pothinus. If a man can't trust his barber, whom can he trust?" Caesar again thrust the letter before Pothinus. "Take it! Read it aloud."
Pothinus took the papyrus. He stared at it and rocked slightly forward and back, as if he were light-headed. He looked desperately at Ptolemy. "Your Majesty!"
The king glowered at him. "Do as the consul says, Lord Chamberlain."
"Read it!" commanded Caesar.
Pothinus gave a start and obeyed. " 'To Achillas, commander of the forces of our rightful king, from Pothinus, Lord Chamberlain, as you may ascertain from the seal on this letter: Greetings.' There, you see! The seal was broken; the wax is missing. There's nothing to prove-"
"Read on, Pothinus," growled Caesar. "Read on, and do not stop until the letter is finished, or I'll have my men skewer you from all sides."
At a nod from Caesar, one of the guards gave Pothinus a poke in the back with his spear. The eunuch yelped. "Please, Consul! Very well, I'll read. 'Though previously I have counseled the king to make a compromise satisfactory to the Roman intruder, if only as a matter of show, I now see that any compromise can lead only to disaster. We must take action, and quickly. I shall do what I can within the palace, but our enemies are well guarded, especially so following an unsuccessful attempt at poison by persons unknown.' Do you see, Consul! The letter proves I had nothing to do with the recent attempt on your life; I have no idea-"