"You demean me, Roman!"
"No, Pothinus, I offer you a chance to live-which is far more than you deserve. If the wine is wholesome, and you drink it without ill effect, I shall release you and allow you to join Achillas outside the palace. Gordianus here shall enjoy the second cup, and the rest of us will share a fine Falernian tonight. But if the wine is poisoned…"
"You lie! Whether it's poisoned or not, you'll have me killed before I can leave this room."
"I'm a man of my word, eunuch! Make up your mind. Take the cup, or not."
From the shiftiness of Pothinus's eyes, I sensed the debate that raged in his mind. So long as he had his wits and a voice to beg, he might yet contrive some way to win Ptolemy's mercy; but once he drank from the cup, there could be no turning back. I myself felt a sudden tremor of doubt; the logic of my argument to Caesar was compelling, of that I was certain, and yet… I recalled the inchoate flash of intuition I had felt when I questioned Apollodorus, somehow tied to the piece of driftwood he had carved into a lion's head; that moment of insight, fleeting and inconclusive, still had seemed to be absolutely authentic-and yet it had no connection to what was happening now. Was I mistaken about the amphora? I found myself almost wishing that Pothinus would refuse to take it.
But at last the prospect of freedom held out by Caesar won Pothinus over. He took the cup, gazed for a moment at his reflection in the wine, then drank it in a single draught.
I looked at those on the dais and saw them all watching with bated breath. I glanced over my shoulder; the guests upon their dining couches looked like silent spectators at a play, intent upon the climax. At the far corner of the room, I glimpsed the two Egyptian courtiers and the Roman who had teased them; the three now sat close together on a single couch, interrupted in their merrymaking and struck dumb by the drama on the dais.
Pothinus thrust the cup back into Caesar's hands and stood erect, turning his head this way and that to glare defiantly at those around him. He licked his lips, ground his teeth, and took a deep breath. He shut his eyes tightly for a moment, then opened them again, smiled, and turned to Caesar.
"There, Roman. Are you satisfied?"
"You feel nothing?"
"Only the satisfaction that comes from drinking a truly fine wine. A pity that the Great One himself was never able to taste it! Well? Are you as good as your word, Caesar? Will you let me go now?"
Caesar tilted his head back and studied Pothinus for a long moment, then turned his gaze to me. He did not look happy. "So, Gordianus, it seems that you were right. The amphora was not poisoned, only the taster's cup. The unpleasant occurrence on Antirrhodus was due to the actions of someone I thought I could trust, someone who's become very close to me." His eyes moved in the direction of the queen, but before his gaze fell upon her, Pothinus made a noise that drew his attention.
The sound came from deep in the eunuch's throat, a grunt that emerged as a stifled gasp. He gave a jerk, as if someone had poked him in a delicate place, and took a step back, putting his hands on his belly. "No!" he whispered. "This isn't happening!" He grimaced and turned toward the king. "You ungrateful little viper! You and your sister deserve one another, and you both deserve the ruin that Caesar has in store for you!"
He dropped to his knees, clutching himself and convulsing. "A curse on you, Caesar! May you die as Pompey died, cut to shreds and covered in blood!" He fell onto his side and drew his knees to his chest. Even as he gave a final twitch, the king stepped forward and gave him a hard kick that sent him rolling off the dais. Limp and lifeless, the eunuch's body fell heavily to the floor.
I looked at Caesar, who stared at the dead body with eyes wide and unblinking. His face was like wax; the eunuch's curse had unnerved him. At last he shuddered and shook off the spell. He looked at me and flashed a rueful smile. "So, Gordianus, it seems you're mistaken. The queen's companions are innocent. The blame for what happened on Antirrhodus falls on your son, after all."
I shook my head. "No, Consul, there must be another explanation-" "Silence! The king has rid himself of a traitor who managed to climb very high in his esteem. I shall follow the king's example. I shall rid myself of the traitor in my midst. Meto will be executed tomorrow."
I staggered back, as stunned as if Caesar had struck me. Light-headed, I looked at Cleopatra. The queen was smiling.
CHAPTER XXV
"It was good of Caesar to allow us this final visit," said Meto. He sat on his cot, staring at the dank stones of the opposite wall. From the high, barred window came the sounds of a hot summer morning: the creaking of anchored ships, the cry of hungry gulls, the shouts of Caesar's sailors making sure that nothing was amiss. Achillas had nominal control over most of the city, including the island of Pharos with its lighthouse, as well as the smaller Eunostos Harbor south of the Pharos causeway, but Caesar's control of the great harbor remained unchallenged.
"Good of him?" I shook my head, which was full of cobwebs. I had spent a miserable, sleepless night, struggling in vain to think of some way to save my son. " 'It was good of Caesar to allow us this final visit.' Loyal Meto! Faithful to Caesar to the very last, even as Caesar prepares to put an end to you."
"What else can he do, Papa? Someone tried to poison him on Antirrhodus. Not me; but every bit of evidence points to me. He can't let such an act go unpunished."
"But what point is there in punishing an innocent man-and a man as unfailingly loyal as you? When I think of the sacrifices you've made for that man, the terrible risks you've taken-"
"All done of my own volition. I chose to serve Caesar. He allowed me the privilege. Don't forget that I began life as a slave, Papa. I never forget."
"When I adopted you, all that changed."
"No, Papa. The past never vanishes, not entirely. You made me your son, and a citizen; you changed the course of my life completely, and for that I'm more grateful than you can know. Caesar took me into his confidence, gave me a role to play in his grand scheme, and even gave me a kind of love-and for that, too, I'm grateful. My life has been richer than I could ever have dreamed when I was a boy-all the richer because I had no right and no reason to expect that such wonders awaited me. I never took them for granted! But you disowned me-"
"Meto, forgive me! It was the worst mistake I ever made. If I could undo that moment, I would."
He shrugged. "You did what you felt you had to do. And now Caesar will do what he must. Perhaps he truly believes I tried to poison him; either that, or the alternative is simply unacceptable to him-that the queen, for her own reasons, incriminated me. He must act; and if he must make a choice between Cleopatra and me, then he chooses Cleopatra; and who am I to object? I'm merely a slave who had the good fortune to rise beyond his station; she is the queen of Egypt and the heir of the Ptolemies and, if one believes the Egyptians, a goddess as well. Her destiny is written in the stars; in the great scheme of things, my fate matters not at all."
"No, Meto! I don't accept such a notion. Your life matters as much as anyone else's. I've spent my life stepping through the mess made by these so-called great men and women. They're no better than criminals and madmen, but because they perpetrate their crimes on such a grand scale, the rest of us are expected to bow before them in awe. 'The gods love me,' they say, to excuse their crimes and draw men to their cause; but if the gods so love them, then why do they die so horribly? Look at what happened to Pompey, gutted like a fish on the shores of Egypt. Look at the horrible ends that awaited Milo, Clodius, Marcus Caelius, Catilina, Domitius Ahenobarbus, Curio-the list goes on and on. Mark my words, the same fate will befall Cleopatra, and yes, even your beloved Caesar."