The Temple of Isis, farther out on the peninsula, seemed to have suffered little damage, perhaps because it was out of range of the rocks and missiles lobbed by the townspeople over the walls of the palace grounds. But the nearer we got to the walls, the more destruction I saw. The stables, the storehouses, the baths, the cisterns, all were damaged in some way--either the walls had been cracked and broken, or the roofs burnt. One of my favorite trees, a giant sycamore that I had played in all during my childhood, had been burnt to the ground.
Now, turning to look back at the main palace building, I could see ugly black stains left by firebrands hurled against its sides. My beautiful white palace by the sea! I gave a groan of unhappiness.
"It will be repaired as soon as you give the word," said Mardian.
I was impressed by the inventory he had compiled. Now I would put him in charge of the restorations.
"Dear mistress, I think you are tiring yourself," said Charmian, in her husky-sweet voice. "Save the rest of Alexandria for tomorrow."
"Yes, I shall go into Alexandria tomorrow to pay homage at the large temple to Isis. Providing it is still standing."
"You may rest a.s.sured it is," said Mardian. "One or two of the columns damaged, but other than that--fine."
"I must place myself in her hands, for I shall need her help at the hour of childbirth." I felt a bit unsteady on my feet, a little dizzy. I put out my hand and leaned on Charmian. "This evening," I said weakly, "I think I would like to consult with Olympos."
I waited for him in my most private chamber. As I looked around at the marble-inlaid little tables, the three-legged standing lamp holders, and the footstools, I became aware that each object now seemed to bear Caesar"s imprint in one way or another. Either he had asked a question about it, sat in it, or used it. It is thus that inanimate objects seem to soak up the essence of living things, and later cause pain or pleasure when we merely look at them.
I was seated in one of the few chairs with a back, and I rested my feet on a stool. I felt very clumsy and tired. Strange, when I was with Caesar I had not paid much attention to the changes in my body, but now I was all too aware of them.
I knew Olympos would scold me. He had that privilege, as a childhood friend and as someone who was totally, blazingly honest. Sure enough, when he came into the room, his lean, hawklike face was almost frowning.
"Greetings," he said. Then, immediately, "Is this all the light there is?" He indicated the floor lamp, which had five wicks in it.
"We can light others," I said. There were several more bronze table lamps, filled with oil, ready to light. "I am not sure what it is you need to see."
"I can see well enough the main thing!" He looked directly at my stomach. "Oh, dear Cleopatra--why did you do it? I taught you how to prevent it! What happened to the silphion? You were supposed to make it up into Cyrenaic juice that would have prevented this."
"I did carry it with me, but I could hardly make it up when I was inside the rug!" "You must have had time afterward! Surely you did not go right from the rug into his bed." He waited for a denial. When I did not give one, he seemed shocked. It is not easy to shock Olympos, and even when he is shocked he usually hides it better. He gave a groan.
"I cannot expect you to be sympathetic. You did not approve from the beginning/" I said.
He snorted. "Even so, probably the first time you . . . after the rug . . . you could have taken the proper measures then! It was not too late! After all, he is not Zeus, so that he only has to visit a mortal woman once for her to conceive!"
I could not help laughing. "I do not expect you to understand my decision. You must know that I am content that this has happened; happy happy is a better word. It was not at all as I had imagined, there in the tent at Gaza. No, it was something completely different, something--" is a better word. It was not at all as I had imagined, there in the tent at Gaza. No, it was something completely different, something--"
Olympos gave another snort. "Save me the mush. It makes me sick."
"You just don"t like him."
"No, and I never will."
"That is honest."
"I am glad you appreciate that. Now, as to your questions . . . what would you wish to know? It seems to me you have no need of my prescriptions or advice!"
"You have studied with the foremost physicians here in Alexandria, and your training is impeccable. Can you know in advance the day I can expect to give birth?"
"No. Only within a certain span of days. It varies a great deal." He came over and put his hand gently on my abdomen, and felt carefully all around the sides as well. "When did you first feel it stir? Usually it is about a hundred and fifty days after that."
I could remember exactly. It had been when an enormous stone had been catapulted over into the palace grounds, and it made a sickening explosive sound as it hit a well. My stomach had moved, and I had thought it was in response to the noise. But when it came again a few hours later in a quiet time, I realized it was something else. And that had been just before we heard that Mithridates was at the eastern borders of the country.
"Late February," I said.
"Then it will arrive in late Quintilis, next month."
"Quintilis! That is Caesar"s own birth month! What a favorable omen!"
Olympos looked disgusted. "No doubt the great general will be honored," he said.
"He is honored," I answered. How could Olympos even begin to suspect Caesar"s great delight? "So I have another fifty days or so? It seems a long time to prepare. Will you procure knowledgeable midwives for me? I do not want superst.i.tious old hags, but young women who have been trained well."
"What about your own women?"
"They will be there, of course, but I wish others to be present who have had experience. After all, Charmian and Iras are virgins."
He rolled his eyes. "Charmian is hardly very virginal That voice ... it would make even Helen of Troy"s sound grating in comparison."
Yes, her voice smoldered and promised great knowledge of man-woman things. "That is true, but she is still a virgin."
"Not for long. And not if she follows your example."
"It is nowhere a condition of serving me that a woman must be a virgin. This is not Rome; we have no Vestal Virgins here."
"Yes, we Greeks and easterners are more realistic. Only the Romans would invent Vestal Virgins, but have as their leader someone like Julius Caesar! I love his remark, when divorcing his third wife, Pompeia, that "Caesar"s wife must be above suspicion." What about his friends" wives, whenever he was in Rome?"
"I think you should stop before you say something you cannot retract."
"So he is to come between us! It is always thus. Rulers say they wish their friends to treat them as always, but sooner or later they turn imperial on you."
"I am not turning imperial, but responding as any woman would to slander about the father of her child. I do not wish to demean him by listening to it, nor myself by considering it, nor you by allowing you to speak in such a manner."
"So you will silence the truth!" His voice was getting pompous.
"I will not silence it. But neither will I belabor it." I looked over at his face, still scowling. "Olympos, I treasure your friendship. As a ruler, I am blessed to have such a friend as you. I know Caesar has . . . been with many women. I do not delude myself about his past. But I see no need to torture myself about it. I look to my future with Caesar, not to his past."
"The past predicts the future," he said stubbornly.
"Not always," I said. "I have a more optimistic view of the world."
The next morning, very early, I made myself ready to visit the Great Shrine of Isis at the Serapion. I wished to go as any other supplicant, for Isis is the protector of all women, and it was as a woman and not as a queen that I sought her blessings and help. I would have to go through childbirth like any other woman; my baby would be born the same way. Like any ordinary woman whose husband was a soldier or a sailor, I loved a man who had gone far away and would be in danger. I came before you, Isis, my Mother, my succor and hope, as the humblest pet.i.tioner.
I robed myself in dark blue linen, and made sure I had a cloak to hide my shape. I also had a cowl that I could pull over my head. I wished no one to recognize me. I took up a round stone jar with an offering of goat milk, and drew a veil over my face.
The sun was only just rising as I left my litter at the foot of the hill of the Serapion and mounted the stairs slowly. The climb left me out of breath, with my ever-growing burden, but when I reached the summit of the hill I was rewarded with a glimpse of the sea at daybreak, and all of Alexandria glowing gold in the new light. Behind me, at a discreet distance, came Iras.
I prayed I would not be too late. They had already opened the temple doors with incense--I could smell its pungent sweetness. I stopped to wash my hands and face with the ceremonial water in its bronze vessel at the entrance, to purify myself. As I made my way into the vast, shadowed building, toward the shrine of Isis, I saw that the white-robed priests were only just sprinkling the sacred Nile water at the entrance. Behind them, in a line, were the acolytes, chanting the morning hymn.
"Arise, Mistress of the Two Lands of Egypt, Mistress of Heaven, Mistress of the House of Life. . . . " "
The deep, sonorous tones of the voices rose and fell like the Nile itself. The shaved heads of the priests and acolytes were like smooth, pale stones in the dim light. Swaying, they walked slowly toward the pedestal where the veiled statue of Isis stood, and then prostrated themselves at its base.
At length the chief priest rose and approached the statue, delicately drawing aside the veil. Reverently he placed necklaces of gold and turquoise . Around her neck, and a headdress of vulture"s feathers.
A statue of you, Isis, can never be mistaken for that of any other G.o.ddess. You always hold the timbrel, the sistrum, in one hand and the long-spouted pitcher filled with Nile water in the other. Your gown is always tied with the knot sacred to you, a mystic knot. In this great shrine you also have the cobra headdress, and beneath your feet is a crocodile. And upon your face is the most perfect smile, emblem of that vast love you have for all of us.
For a long time we all knelt in silence. Then a group of women began beating on their b.r.e.a.s.t.s, uttering loud wails of the "lamentations of Isis." They poured out their troubles to you--their ill husbands, their ungrateful sons, their rebellious daughters, the ache in their knees, their ovens that would not bake the bread properly, their rat-infested grain supplies. Anything, no matter how important or petty, was presented to you in confidence that you could make it right. One by one they crept forward and left their offerings at your feet--flowers, bread, jars of honey, garlands of flowers. I crawled on my hands and knees to present the milk.
" "I am all that has been, and is, and shall be," " intoned the voice of a priestess, speaking for you.
The very words spoke to my heart, and I gazed on your face. You seemed to be younger than I, but I knew you had endured all that any woman ever can. You had finished the journey I was just setting out on. You had been wife, and widow, and mother.
"I am she called G.o.d among women." The voice went on.
"I overcome Fate. To me Fate hearkens."
"I am the one of innumerable names."
Your face took on an unutterable beauty to me, and I adored "you.
I remained at your altar a long time, asking for help in the coming ordeal of childbirth, and in guidance for Egypt. Gradually the rest of the worshipers departed, and by the time I felt the glory of your presence fading and I began a return to the ordinary, I was almost alone. Only a very few women remained, and two in particular were making their way so slowly to the door, I wondered if they were crippled. Yet they stood straight enough, and their gait was normal. As I came closer to them, I saw that one was blind, and feeling her way along, while her companion helped her. Then I noticed that she was not blind in the usual way, for she kept rubbing her eyes as if she expected light to flood into them.
"Have you asked Isis to restore your sight, my sister?" I asked.
She quickly turned toward me, as if she could see me. Her companion, I saw now, was a young girl, most likely her daughter.
"Yes, I have asked," she replied. "Every day I come and ask. But the fog remains."
"I pray that Isis, the Great and Compa.s.sionate Mother, will help my mother," said the girl. "I will not give up hope."
"I am not used to being blind," the mother said, as if apologizing. "Perhaps if one is born with it, then . . . but to suddenly become someone else, and have half the world taken away from me ... me ... as well as my work! The skills of a blind person take years to develop. It is not as if I can do what other blind people do! I cannot carve, I cannot play a musical instrument, I cannot serve as a royal food taster." as well as my work! The skills of a blind person take years to develop. It is not as if I can do what other blind people do! I cannot carve, I cannot play a musical instrument, I cannot serve as a royal food taster."
"What did you do?"
"I worked as one of the silk-looseners."
How unfortunate! That type of handiwork, in which a skilled needlewoman loosened the fabric of silk we received from Arabia to make it stretch farther and be more transparent, needed keen eyesight. Perhaps the job had cost her that sight.
"How did this happen?"
"The war!" she said. "In the fighting, it seems there were fires everywhere. Alexandria is nearly fireproof, the buildings being stone, but there was plenty of loose material to be set afire. When one of those pitch-soaked torches landed right in my textile shop, I threw a rug over it to smother it and dove on it to keep everything from going up in flames. The smoke from it--it"s a very nasty kind of thick, oily smoke--got in my eyes. The next day--no more sight."
The war. This one was particularly terrible because it had taken place not on a battlefield, but within city streets and people"s homes.
"I will take you to my physician. Perhaps he can help. Are there others you know who were injured, have lost jobs, means of living?"
She drew back. "Why should I go with you to your physician? I have no money to pay! Who are you?" She sounded indignant.
I pulled aside my veil. "I am Cleopatra, your Queen, but also the devotee of Isis. I will help her to help you."
They both looked terror-stricken.
"Is not Isis the champion of women? And I, as her daughter, am also your champion. I wish to help women who have suffered here in Alexandria. Come with me to the palace," I said.
Still with that frightened look, they obeyed.
Olympos examined the woman"s eyes, but p.r.o.nounced that the damage might indeed be permanent. He prescribed a twice-daily wash of rainwater mixed with an infusion of an herb he obtained from an Arabian shrub. I told her that she and her daughter could remain in the palace during the treatment, and that if her eyesight did not return, I would find new employment for her.
"Why have you taken this woman into your care.7" asked Olympos. "The city must be full of ones exactly like her!"
"Yes. Isis opened my eyes to that. I would like to find a way to help all of them. They suffer as the result of the war--a war fought on my behalf. It is the least I can do."
"You continue to surprise me," he said dryly.
But it was my child who had the biggest surprise for us all. In the middle of the night, not more than twenty days after my conversation with Olympos, I was taken with a violent onset of pain while I was sleeping. It jolted me awake, as if I had been struck by a heavy object. I lay flat on my bacjc, wondering what had happened. Was it a dream? Just as I was drifting off to sleep again, another bolt of pain struck me. I gasped and sat up, panting.
The flames in the lamps I always kept burning in the chamber were steady. All seemed so peaceful, so quiet. Outside I could hear a gentle sound of wind, but on this June night all else was tranquil. It seemed an aberration to be visited with pain at such a time.
Just as I was thinking this, another wave hit me. Trembling, and breaking out into a burst of sweat, I rang the bell for Iras and Charmian, who slept nearby. I had to ring a long time before they heard me; it was, as I said, a night for sweet sleeping.
"I think--my time of childbirth has come," I said, when they arrived. I was startled, and a little frightened, to find how much effort it took me even to speak. "Get the midwives!"
I was taken on a litter--oh, how it bounced!--into a chamber that had been prepared for this. There, on a low chair, hung twisted ropes that I could grip on to; beside it were stacks of linen towels and sheets, and washbasins. They stripped me naked and I was taken with shivering, even on that warm night, until they covered me with a sheet. All the lamps were lit, and I braced myself against the arms of the chair. The midwives stood about, murmuring and attempting to make all this seem very normal. To them, it was. I was profoundly grateful that I had obtained them so far in advance.
The pains increased; Iras and Charmian took turns wiping my face with scented water. I hung on to the ropes and arched my back. I did not want to cry out, no matter how high the pain mounted. I felt hot rushes of water pouring from inside me, and heard one of the midwives say, "The waters have broken!" Then I lost track of time. The pain seemed to be its own world, and it enveloped me and I felt myself always trying to mount it, as I would try to climb up a slippery ball that kept rotating and throwing me off. Finally there was a crest to the pain, and I felt enormous pressure, and then--it stopped.
"A son! A son!" they were shouting.
There was a loud, quavering wail.
"A son!" They held him up, his red legs flailing, his chest heaving with the exertion of crying.
They wiped him off with the warmed, scented water and wrapped him in fresh linen. They placed him on my breast. I could see only the top of his head; it was covered in fine dark hair. His little fingers flexed and uncurled, and he stopped crying. I felt his warmth against me, and I was flooded with joy--and exhaustion. Against my will, I closed my eyes and slept.
It was midmorning before I came to myself again. I saw the reflections of the seawater dancing on the ceiling, moving in little white jumping patterns, and for a moment I just lay and looked at them, stunned. Then I remembered everything.
I struggled to sit up on my elbows, and saw Charmian and Iras and Olympos at the back of the chamber. They were speaking in hushed tones. Outside the sunlight was so bright it hurt my eyes.
"My son!" I said. "Let me see him again!"
Charmian bent down over the royal crib, an elaborately carved box on little feet. She picked up a wrapped bundle and brought it over to me. It looked too small to have a human being inside it. I pulled away the linen near the little red face. He looked like an angry, wizened, sunburnt old man. I laughed.
Olympos hurried over to my bedside. "He is small, but he will live," he p.r.o.nounced with satisfaction. "Eighth-month babies often do not fare as well."
"Yes, he is a month early," I said. Then I realized that Caesar had barely missed seeing him. I felt a double disappointment that it had been so close. I looked carefully at the little face staring back at me with unfocused, hazy blue eyes. "I think it is impossible to see a likeness in a newborn"s face, regardless of what people claim. I have never seen this face before!" I smoothed the fuzzy hair growing on his head. "Nevertheless, I can say, he isn"t bald, like his father!"
How pleased Caesar would be when he heard the news! How thrilled I felt to be able to present him with the one thing no one else in the world had been able to give him for so long, and which was un.o.btainable to him through all his conquests of land. I must get the word to him at once. But I did not even know how to reach him; I had received no message from him since his departure.
"What will you call him, Majesty?" asked Charmian.