Death of an Eye Page 17

  Laogonus put the Thalassa in the lee of Pharos and dropped anchor among all the other delayed vessels, and the entire crew lined the port rail to enjoy the spectacle.

  Spectacle it was, ship after ship with oars keeping time to the drum, so many of them beating as one that it was as if the earth’s heart was beating in time with them. Trumpets blared, singly and together, many painfully out of tune but no less enthusiastically for that. Fat-bellied supply ships, pontos and corbitas riding low beneath the weight of Egyptian grain and treasure, made their ponderous way north. A flurry of pennants snapped from every mast.

  Warships took pride of place, from the lighter trireme built in the Greek style to the massive Roman liburnica and the smaller triconters with their three sails. Some of the warships were large enough to bear the mass of ballistas and catapults twice the size of Thalassa’s, all of them out in the open, displaying Rome’s military might for all to see and be intimidated by.

  Ra lit the armor of the soldiers so brilliantly one could not look directly at it. “That must be the whole of the Veteran Sixth Legion,” Apollodorus said.

  “What’s left of it,” Tetisheri said.

  “He’s been recruiting. And doubtless there are more legions waiting on him in Pontus.”

  Alexandrians lined the walls and shore of the city, cheering and waving, and the trumpets responded with even more fervor. “She’s marched them all out today,” Apollodorus said. “Including herself.”

  Tetisheri followed his eyes to the tiny platform above the mirror at the very top of the lighthouse. There stood a slender figure dressed in white and gold, the bulge of her belly prominent even from here. The Double Crown shone every bit as brightly as the Roman armor, and the crook and flail were crossed on her breast.

  An especially loud and inharmonious blare of trumpets drew their eyes back to the mouth of the harbor, where emerged a liburnica bearing red sails. Caesar himself, in full legionnaire lorica from helmet to greaves, stood in the prow next to the aquila of the Sixth.

  “I’m just a common soldier, me,” Apollodorus said, “I wear the armor of the Senate and People of Rome just like every other Roman soldier I send out against the enemy. The troops must love that.”

  “Why he does it,” Laogonus said.

  Tetisheri clutched Apollodorus’ wrist. “Look!”

  He followed her gaze. Cassius Longinus stood a few steps from Caesar, like him dressed in full lorica. His helmet cast a shadow over his eyes but Tetisheri had the feeling he was looking straight at her.

  A few steps behind him stood Polykarpus, with Petronius and Naevius at his side.

  “Apollodorus!”

  “I see. There is nothing we can do, Tetisheri.” His voice fell and she barely heard what he said next. “There was nothing we could ever do.”

  Caesar saluted the queen, who bowed in return, and the population of Alexandria went mad with joy, or gave their very best imitation of it, under the eyes of their queen as they were. Caesar’s ship was out of earshot before the tumult died.

  And that joy was of course conditional. Alexandrians could be joyful that they had such a powerful ally so closely connected to them. They could also be joyful to be seeing the back of him.

  Whatever they were feeling, they felt it loudly. “My ears are ringing,” Laogonus said, working the tip of his finger into one and wriggling it.

  She turned to Apollodorus. “What shall we do?”

  To Laogonus Apollodorus said, “We’ll dock in the royal harbor.” To Tetisheri he said, “She saw us. She’ll expect a report immediately.”

  *

  Charmion met them at the side door and brought them to the same little balcony where they had foregathered, what was it now, only nine days ago? Food and drink had been set out on the small table and Cleopatra sat in one of the three chairs. She’d changed from her regalia into one of the simple linen shifts she preferred to wear when she was in private.

  She greeted them with a smile. “Tetisheri. Apollodorus. Sit. Forgive me for not serving you. My son—” she patted her belly “—is taking exception to every move I make today. I think he’s unhappy that his father is leaving us behind. Yes, I’ll take some juice, thank you. No, nothing to eat. There’s no room left for food.” She accepted the cup and sipped at it.

  For a few moments there was silence. The rising sun filled in the shadows left behind by the night, bringing the vast cityscape of Alexandria into sharper focus, twinkling off the ripples raised by a gentle breeze in the harbor below. Boats large and small slipped in and out of port to the crying of gulls and the profanity of dockmen and sailors. Tetisheri drank it in and felt refreshed and rejuvenated. Alexandria never failed her.

  “Well. And what did you discover while you were away?”

  Apollodorus looked at Tetisheri and raised his cup. Over to her. She took a drink, sorting her thoughts into a narrative that would explain most if not all of the events of the last two weeks. “I can’t prove everything that I suspect,” she said. “In fact I have very little proof at all of any of what I believe happened. Witnesses are either dead or gone or can’t be found. The physical evidence is scanty at best.”

  “You’re not in court here, Tetisheri. There are no scribes present to take down what you say and put it into the record. There are only the three of us. Speak, and leave nothing out. It is your job to report. Leave the conclusions—and the judgements—to me.”

  Tetisheri bowed her head. “As you wish, my queen.” She took a deep breath and let it out slowly.

  “Ptolemy hates you and wants you dead, and if he can manage it at the same time, he wants Arsinoë as his co-ruler instead. He knows, none better, that the only reason he’s on the throne beside you is that Caesar needs the appearance of continuing tradition to keep the Alexandrians and Egyptians quiescent, and, not coincidentally, convince the Senate in Rome that he hasn’t turned Egypt into his own personal fief. The fact that he owes his place on the throne only to Caesar’s political necessity chafes Ptolemy unbearably, as does the fact that Caesar clearly favors you. So long as Ptolemy lives he will listen to and aid in any plan that subverts you and shortens your reign.

  “Such a plan came his way, I believe, by Polykarpus. Polykarpus was Arsinoë’s closest advisor. I believe he still is and that they are still in contact even though she is imprisoned in Rome. I believe she sent him here to do what he could to destabilize your reign.

  “Ptolemy, as your co-ruler, has access to the workings of the realm. He knew of the order of the new coins, and told Poly-karpus. Polykarpus, in turn, cast about for co-conspirators, and the less intelligent and inexperienced the better.”

  “Why?” Apollodorus said.

  “The less intelligent his partners, the better able Polykarpus is to lead them by their noses,” Cleopatra said.

  “Exactly,” Tetisheri said. “And so we come to Hunefer, who is—was—deep in debt with no means to repay it, and his Roman friends, Naevius and Petronius, young, reckless, no judgement, I would guess also in desperate need of money as young men seem always to be. A lot like Ptolemy Theos, in fact. Naevius and Petronius, not coincidentally, also happen to be closely related to the queen’s agent in Cyprus, the man best placed to bring this theft off successfully.”

  “Paulinos was ever a reliable agent,” Cleopatra said sadly. “I never had cause to doubt his probity or his loyalty until now.”

  “He lost his wife last year,” Tetisheri said. “And sent his daughter off to Rome to live with his cousin Cassius’ family.”

  Cleopatra said nothing, but her eyes betrayed her. Nothing would ever be adequate to excuse a thief, not when they were stealing from her.

  Tetisheri sipped her juice. “From Polykarpus’ viewpoint—and Ptolemy’s—if they get away with the robbery they have struck a successful blow against your reign, while enriching themselves considerably into the bargain.”

  “And if they don’t—” Apollodorus said.

  “And if they don’t,” Tetisheri said. “Say,
if perhaps Cassius learns of the theft.”

  “How?” the queen said.

  “Khemit,” Tetisheri said simply. “I haven’t yet worked out how her suspicions turned toward Hunefer, but she questioned the Hunefer servants. Some one of them must have told Hunefer, who panicked and went to Khemit to threaten her to stay away from his house. Cassius was there and overheard.” She turned to Apollodorus. “Remember? Tarset said there was a Roman there that day, placing a large order.”

  “Would Cassius be shopping for his own linens?” Apollodorus said, raising an eyebrow.

  “If it were a gift for his wife and daughters, perhaps,” Tetisheri said. “At any rate, Cassius learned enough from eavesdropping that he went home and confronted his sons. They would have confessed at once—I doubt they have a single working backbone between the two of them—and blamed everything on Polykarpus. Cassius summoned Polykarpus and told him to clean up the mess before anyone else learned of the conspiracy or he’d spill Polykarpus’ guts on the floor right there. He wrote Paulinos’ daughter’s name on a scrap of papyrus and signed it with his initial and sent Polykarpus to Lemesos.

  “Paulinos saw this as the threat it most certainly was. His daughter was all that was left to him, and he probably counted on Cassius’ family parading her in front of every eligible young suitor in Rome. He climbed into the bath and slit his wrist, I would guess with Polykarpus supervising, as this is not a man who leaves much to chance, especially not with an angry and powerful Roman breathing fire down his neck. Polykarpus burned the paper with Paulina’s name on it, and in a rare mistake left enough of it behind to allow us to fill in the rest of the story.” Tetisheri opened her satchel and produced the little bottle. “We have yet to determine if this is Cassius’ handwriting, but if we can find a sample or someone who knows it I suspect we will.”

  “Cotta would know,” the queen said. She pulled the stopper and shook out the scrap of papyrus, unrolling it carefully. After a moment she let it curl back up and replaced it in the little pot.

  “Cotta,” Tetisheri said, and then paused.

  “What?” the queen said.

  “Let me finish the story of the robbery and the murders first,” Tetisheri said. “Polykarpus returned to Alexandria where Cassius greeted him with the news that Khemit was asking questions far too close to home. Make it go away, he said, and Polykarpus killed her with a blow from a sally stick.”

  Apollodorus said, “A sally stick is—”

  “I know what it is,” the queen said. “Continue.”

  “Frightened by Khemit’s actions, terrified at the prospect of who else Hunefer had talked to, feeling like everything was unraveling, either Cassius or Polykarpus or both of them together decided they should make a clean sweep of it. The new issue was moved from its hiding place—I would bet somewhere in Ptolemy’s quarters, because he is just that smart—to Hunefer’s house. After which Hunefer was killed on his own doorstep by Polykarpus using the same sally stick that he used to kill Khemit. Thus insuring the discovery of the coins and shutting Hunefer’s mouth once and for all.

  “And then,” she said levelly, “he joined Cassius and his sons at Uncle Neb’s reception. I remember he came in late.” Her laugh was entirely lacking in humor. “And we were the perfect alibi, were we not? A known friend to the queen? A business operating under a Royal Charter signed by your own hand? Who could suspect anyone under that roof?”

  They sat in silence as Ra climbed higher into the sky, the noise of a city at work increased, and the shadows shortened around them.

  At length Cleopatra stirred. She peered into her cup and held it out. “He’s finally asleep and I’d as soon not wake him up.”

  Apollodorus rose to fill her cup. She sipped, looking out over the Royal Harbor at Pharos and beyond. “No trouble with pirates on your journey there and back again?”

  Apollodorus and Tetisheri exchanged a glance. “Only one, majesty. We were becalmed for an afternoon during our return.”

  The queen took this with very little change of expression. “What happened?”

  “We sank her,” Apollodorus said. “The luck was with us.”

  The queen smiled. “It usually is, with Laogonus.”

  Easy for her to say, Tetisheri thought. Another time she might take issue with her friend for sending her into danger unforewarned, but at the moment she was just too tired. Her arms ached, too, from the unaccustomed bow work. She wanted some of Keren’s salve and a long, uninterrupted sleep in her own bed. She only hoped when she closed her eyes she would not watch the men they had killed die over and over again in her dreams.

  The queen drank some of her juice. “While you were gone I had Ipwet put to the test.”

  Much of what Tetisheri had suffered beneath the roof of the House of Hunefer had come at Ipwet’s hands, but she felt a chill nonetheless. “Did you?”

  “Yes.” Cleopatra met Tetisheri’s eyes. She looked tranquil, which given the topic under discussion had to be an effect of the pregnancy. Tetisheri remembered the last weeks leading up to birth only too well—the feeling of overwhelming lethargy, the omnipresent urge to urinate, the swollen ankles, the lower back pain, the constant need for sleep warring with the complete inability to find a comfortable position in which to seek it out. Of course, Cleopatra had wanted her baby and might even have enjoyed its conception, which might make these last days somewhat easier, even if the father of her child had abandoned both of them for the charms of putting down a rebellion in Pontus.

  “And?” Apollodorus said.

  “And while she claimed not to be an active co-conspirator, she knew enough to confirm much of your conclusions.”

  “‘Claimed?’” Tetisheri said.

  “Alas.” Cleopatra studied her cup, as if calculating whether the baby had left enough room for that last mouthful of pomegranate juice. She decided it had and drank, the strong muscles in her throat working. “Ipwet did not survive her test.” She put the cup down and met Tetisheri’s eyes again. Her own were perfectly serene.

  Tetisheri had been sold into virtual slavery by a mother hungry for status. Cleopatra had seen it happen and been powerless to stop it then. She had bided her time until she had enough power to exact an overdue but she would consider just vengeance. That Ipwet’s confession aided an ongoing investigation into theft and treason, Cleopatra Philopater, Seventh of Her Name, would see as only a bonus.

  Apollodorus broke the silence before it became so heavy it crushed them all. “I can’t say that she will be missed.” He examined a stuffed date before popping it into his mouth. “What happens to Hunefer’s possessions?”

  “Sold at auction to satisfy his debts.” The queen smiled. “I’ve already contacted Nebenteru to conduct the auction. I thought perhaps his fee might go toward the support of the slave girl you, ah, liberated from Hunefer the evening my dear brother had the effrontery to kidnap you.”

  “It’s always a comfort to a woman to have a little money laid by,” Tetisheri said with an effort. She took a deep breath and let it out as unobtrusively as possible. “Cassius left with Caesar. And Polykarpus with them, and Cassius’ sons. We saw them all four on the deck of Caesar’s liburnica.”

  The queen sighed. “Yes, I know. They appear to have escaped the queen’s justice.” There was a curious lack of rage in her matter-of-fact statement. “You were saying about Cotta.”

  “Cotta?” Tetisheri said. “Oh. Yes. He met us the morning before we left for Cyprus, after we had seen you. He seemed almost—giddy?—at the death of Hunefer and the recovery of the coin. He said that with the new issue returned and the guilty dead I could have nothing left to do but go back to my little import/export business. At which he was pleased to say that I seemed to be very successful.” The queen raised an eyebrow. “He, too, attended Uncle Neb’s reception the night before.”

  “Did he,” the queen said thoughtfully. “Did he indeed.”

  “He knew something about the theft,” Tetisheri said. “Perhaps not all, perha
ps only in its later stages, but something. And he suspected that you had tasked me to investigate. It wasn’t the first time he had sought me out.”

  “What?” said the queen.

  “What?” said Apollodorus.

  “You will remember, he was with Caesar when he came to you here, where the three of us first spoke of the theft. He must have had me followed because he called on me the next morning.”

  “He did what?” Apollodorus said. “You said nothing of this to me.”

  The queen kept to the subject at hand. “What did Cotta say?”

  “Well,” Tetisheri said, “the first thing he said to me was ‘Not a cook, then.’ I think he wanted me to know that he knew who I was, that there was nothing that happened in Alexandria of which he was unaware.”

  The queen laughed out loud.

  Tetisheri smiled, albeit reluctantly. “Yes, I know. He complimented my Latin accent and hinted that perhaps I had learned to speak it when I accompanied you and Auletes to Rome.”

  “He was fishing,” Apollodorus said.

  “I believe he is watching you very closely, my queen,” Tetisheri said. “And anyone you summon to the palace will also be watched.”

  “Let him watch.” Cleopatra slid forward in her chair and accepted Apollodorus’ hand in hoisting herself to her feet. “We have the new issue back. That is the most important thing. Thank you, Apollodorus.” She smiled at Tetisheri. “Tetisheri, I can’t thank you enough for your help in seeking out the truth in this matter.”

  “I didn’t do much, my queen,” Tetisheri said ruefully. “I was late to events everywhere I went.”

  “Nonsense,” said the queen. “And now, my friends, I must leave you.” She grimaced. “I have an interview with the nomarch of Wadjet. He was short on his tithe of grain. I sent to know why and he sent his wife to make his excuses.”

  “How long ago?”