Song Of The Nile Part 3

I was surprised to find Iullus in the hall. "You weren't looking for me, were you?"

"No," Iullus said. "I'm going to see Augustus."

Oil lamps burned low, casting shadows over the painted walls. One sputtered out. "At this hour?"

My Roman half brother gave me a sharp look from under dark brows. "I'm going to ask him to annul Julia's marriage and give her to me."

I nearly stumbled in shock. Iullus had been my childhood nemesis, but we shared blood, so I gripped his arm to keep him from turning away. "What can you be thinking? If the emperor doesn't laugh in your face he'll have you shipped off to fight the Cantabri in Spain. That is, if you live so long. If he doesn't kill you himself, Livia will see you dead by dinner!"

Like all my father's sons, Iullus was well formed and handsome. At eighteen years old, he'd already served in war at the side of Augustus. He could have swatted me away with one strong arm, but instead he glared. "If Augustus can give a crown to Cleopatra's daughter, why not give a great marriage to Antony's son?"

Octavia had said it was my gift to inspire people to reach higher, but it seemed more like a curse. "Because I'm a girl. Augustus thinks I'm an ornament. An interesting amus.e.m.e.nt that suits his purposes. You're Antony's Roman son. If you tell the emperor that you want his daughter, he'll think you're trying to plot against him, trying to declare yourself his heir."

"You just don't want Julia and me to be together," he said, but I saw he was wavering.

"You're wrong." I loved Julia and would begrudge her nothing. As far as I was concerned, Iullus's secret affection for Julia was his only redeeming quality. "I only worry about you. In spite of everything, we're family. That means something to me."

"It's because you worry about everything, Selene. You think you're some savior. That you can go round and make everything right. Well, you can't." His criticism was too close to the truth for comfort, so I didn't stop him when he stalked away. But I noticed that he returned to his room, and I prayed he had the good sense to stay there.

JUBA never came home that night, and I don't remember that I slept. By morning there was nothing left to do but dress and take one last turn around the grounds. I pa.s.sed the spinning room where Octavia had taught me to turn baskets of white fleece into spools of thread. Where Julia and I had worked the looms and woven cloth for tunics and togas. I walked through the courtyard where they'd first told me about Caesarion's death, then through the gardens where I'd married Juba. So many slaves had been ordered to help prepare for our departure that there had been few left to clean up after the wedding. Remnants of the marriage feast were still scattered about, goblets tipped upon the stones. With a disapproving expression, Lady Octavia surveyed the mess, and I realized she was waiting for me, my wedding gift from Balbus draped over her arm. "I brought your cloak," she said, reaching up to cover my shoulders. "You'll want to wear it in the highlands of Africa. Give a care for your modesty and remember that even queens can catch a chill."

"I'll remember," I said, grateful for the warmth against the cold morning air.

"Best that you do, because everything is going to change for you, Selene," she continued, tugging at the fabric of my cloak so she could fasten it with a fibula pin. "You'll be queen of a wild and untamed place. Keep your mind on your duty and don't distract yourself worrying about Philadelphus. I'll watch over him as if he were my own."

I looked up, meeting her eyes, and saw that they were red-rimmed with tears. I love you too, I thought. She was the emperor's sister and I was Cleopatra's daughter. It was something neither of us could say, but I saw it in her eyes, and I hope she saw it in mine. "I'll honor you always, Octavia."

"Just do your duty to Rome and to Juba," she sniffed, straightening the drape of my gown. "Make me proud."

Under the archway, beneath a canopy of vines, Julia appeared. "Selene, they're waiting for you."

I went down the stairs with her and peeked through the bars of the gate at the impressive caravan. Wearing his finery, Juba mounted his dun stallion with the ease of an expert rider. He and Augustus would lead the procession, side by side, and if either man gave a thought to my presence, I had no reason to know it. Meanwhile, Crinagoras and some of the other courtiers climbed into wheeled carriages, readying for travel. Agrippa was there too, sweating and surly. He shouted at hapless soldiers who piled furniture, supplies, and armaments onto carts. "Load it up, laggards!"

"I'm dying of envy," Julia said, grasping hold of my fingers and squeezing. "You're going on an exciting adventure, whereas I'll never see more of the world than what you can glimpse from the Palatine Hill." Her bravado came crashing down then. Her lower lip trembled and she threw her arms around me. "Oh, Selene. I don't want you to go."

"I'll come back to visit," I promised.

"You're too clever for that," Julia whispered, holding me so tight I thought I might bruise. "You've finally found a way to escape. You'd be wise to stay away." With that, Julia turned and fled back into the house.

"Julia!" I cried.

"Let her go," Octavia said. "Her destiny is right here in Rome, but yours is across the sea."

WHEN I first came to Rome, dragged as a chained prisoner behind the emperor's chariot, the people spit at me and threw rocks. Now the Romans threw flower petals in the path of the snow-white horses that pulled my gilded carriage. A sort of fervor for all things Egyptian had taken hold of the city in my honor. Women scented themselves with lotus perfume and adorned themselves with jewelry featuring sphinxes and crocodiles. Men wore scarab rings and thick gold bracelets, if they could afford them. Perhaps it was merely the fashion, for the emperor's own fascination with obelisks and other Egyptian treasures had set the trend. But these might be Isiacs too, come to wish me well.

Today I was the daughter of the good Queen Cleopatra who had been beloved of Julius Caesar, not the bad Queen Cleopatra the seductress. Today I was the daughter of their Antony, the good Roman general who had avenged Caesar and was merciful to his enemies, not the bad Antony who was enslaved to an Egyptian wh.o.r.e. I was the loyal Roman girl, ward of Augustus, rewarded with a kingdom. So they all cheered.

When the carriages, the wagons, the standard bearers, and the litters pa.s.sed through the city gates onto the Via Ostiensis, the breath went out of me. I was leaving! I threw back my head and took in a great gulp of air wondering if Helios pa.s.sed beneath this same canopy of umbrella pines and if he'd felt the same swirl of emotions I felt now. Anxiety and joy, sadness and triumph, regret and hope. I couldn't be certain if the invisible shackles that bound me would break or tighten. I only knew that against all odds, I'd emerged from that stifling brick city with my life, queen of a new world.

Five.

A few hours into our journey on the open road, some commotion stalled our rumbling procession. Shouts rang out, and even from the confines of my carriage Chryssa and I thought we heard weapons clashing. Wood against wood, fists against bone. It happened quickly, followed by the clatter of galloping horse hooves on the stone road. Curiosity made me pull back the curtain to see Augustus dismounting his horse. He joined me in my carriage, dismissing Chryssa to follow on foot, and then we were moving again. My heart jumped to my throat. "What's happening? What's wrong?"

The emperor's expression was distant as he took the seat across from me. "Nothing for you to concern yourself about. It was a protest. Yet another crowd come to demand things of me."

"What did they want?" I asked, hugging myself against an unexpected chill.

"It doesn't matter. Restoration of the Republic. Restoration of the Temples of Isis. More grain. Reform. It can be anything or nothing that stirs the hearts of these malcontents." His lips curled. "I'm only glad they won't trouble me again."

The menace in his tone filled me with foreboding. The wheels of my carriage rolled on and the scent of carnage told me there'd been bloodshed. I saw men dead in the gra.s.s, eyes wide and empty, gaping wounds shining with blood, glistening entrails in the dirt. A noxious stew of horror churned in my belly and boiled up to my throat. To keep myself from retching, I pressed the back of my hand against my mouth. I could scarcely make my lips move to utter the words, "You executed them."

"They were n.o.bodies." Augustus yanked at his decorative cuira.s.s as if the weight of the breastplate pained him at the shoulders. "Not even citizens. Just fools and madmen to get in my way on a day like this. My praetorians made short work of them. And if you mean to rule, Selene, if you mean to be a true queen, you'll need a stronger stomach."

No matter how many people he killed, I'd never be able to shrug indifferently as he did now. Murder never gave him pause, but he wasn't an indiscriminate killer. The dead men must have threatened his power in some way, and like the monster he was, he simply cut their lives short. It was a sharp reminder of how dangerous a game it was I played with him. It gained me nothing to let him see how his ruthlessness sickened me. It wouldn't help these poor dead strangers and it would only mark my weaknesses for Augustus to exploit. He was right. If I were to ever be his equal or ever triumph over him, I'd have to choke back my bile. So I turned my eyes away from the dead men on the road. "Did this have something to do with Helios?"

"No. I'm no longer worried about your twin. The Prefect of Egypt a.s.sures me that he'll crush the rebellion in Thebes shortly." My mouth went dry as I stared out at the funereal monuments that lined our path. We lurched and b.u.mped our way down the road in silence until the emperor said, "My temper is in need of soothing and it occurs to me that I'll miss you when we're apart. Who will play the kithara for me?"

"You can hire a skilled harpist."

He smirked indulgently. "She'll cost me far less than you. Not every musician demands a throne as her price."

I lifted my chin with Ptolemaic pride. "Not every musician is Cleopatra's daughter."

His lips twisted in amus.e.m.e.nt. "Let's play another game. You're Greek. You'll enjoy this one."

My blood was Macedonian, which wasn't precisely the same thing as Greek, but I said, "I'm Egyptian."

"A fact you never let me forget," he said, showing only mild annoyance. "Now tell me, of these three historic figures, which one do I most resemble? Odysseus, Theseus, or Alexander the Great?"

The emperor had been the boy everyone had discounted. He'd risen to the consulship of Rome at the age of nineteen and now held most of the world in his palm. To find victory where all other Romans had failed, he was planning a campaign against the Parthians, so I knew he wanted to be compared to Alexander. He was never content to be himself. Within him still was the sickly boy my father had ridiculed. He was, and would always be, the insecure youth who relied on Agrippa to do his fighting and who felt compelled to kill my brother Caesarion for fear of a rival with the same name. He wanted to be Caesar. He wanted to be Alexander. But I wanted an answer that would please him even better. One that might turn his mind from war and killing. "I say that you are more like Aeneas than any of those three. Like Aeneas, who carried his ailing father out of a burning city, you've honored Julius Caesar. Whereas Aeneas built Lavinium, you wish to build a new Rome out of the ashes of the civil wars. Aeneas."

"Selene," he uttered my name in warning, as if I'd spoken something too close to his heart. Then, in a flash of motion, Augustus pulled the curtain shut, plunging the carriage into darkness. It felt strange to be alone with him in such close quarters, closed off from the outside world. I blinked, able to make out only his silhouette, a shadow of himself. "Aeneas had sons, Selene. He had sons to rule after him. I don't. And you once predicted that my heirs will never inherit my empire."

"It wasn't my prediction. Those were the words of Isis," I said, for my G.o.ddess had sent that warning scrolling in blood and hieroglyphs down my arms. As you refuse Isis her throne, be a.s.sured your descendants will never inherit yours. Deny me, and your ign.o.ble name will fade to dust. It had been a threat in retaliation for his mistreatment of Isis worshippers, but he'd believed it was my mother reaching for him, sparring with him from the afterlife. Now, he seemed at last to have accepted that my mother was gone. When he looked for her, he looked to me. "Isis never promised it would be your destiny, Caesar. Honor my G.o.ddess and change your fate."

His gray eyes were lupine in the dark. "Why isn't it enough that I honor you, her sorceress?"

Years ago, such a question would only have been put to me in threat, for the Romans had a fear and loathing of magic. But the emperor valued any power I had-whether it sprang from magic, religion, or my heritage-and he wanted to possess it for his own ends. "I'm not a sorceress." That much wasn't a lie. What powers I had, I didn't know how to control. Not yet.

"There's a woman who says otherwise, Selene. She tells everyone who'll listen that you put your hands upon her and made her fertile again. She was barren, and now she's with child."

I squinted, adjusting to the darkened interior, seeing his face knit in concentration, in expectation that I must disappoint. "Such things happen. It's the will of the G.o.ds."

"I need a son, Selene. I need you to make Livia's womb fertile again."

How like him to bring up such a thing with men lying dead behind us in the road. "I can't help you."

He made a dangerous sound, the snort of an animal. "Your mother worked fertility magic for Caesar. It was easy to say her child was of some other man's get, but I looked at the boy's face after he died. He was Caesar writ small."

It shocked me to hear him admit my eldest brother's true parentage. "Whatever magic comes to me, comes from Isis. I'm spent of it. I can't help you. Neither you nor Livia share my faith."

"Faith," he said, as if the word always puzzled him. The Romans built great temples to their G.o.ds and made b.l.o.o.d.y sacrifices, but they didn't forge personal relationships with the divine. They didn't pray, at least not without great ritual and fanfare, and rarely in the way that I called upon Isis in moments of solitude and reflection. "Livia could make an offering," he said. "It wouldn't do for her to publicly honor a G.o.ddess whose worship I've banned, but she could do it in secret."

"Livia is past the age of childbearing. It isn't within my power." Even if it were, I wouldn't wish Livia as a mother upon any child. If she'd ever given a kind word to either of her sons that wasn't calculated to advance her own ambitions, I'd never seen it. The carriage rumbled to a stop. Soldiers shouted to water the horses and if I had any sense at all, I would have let the conversation end there. But I said, "If you want a son, Caesar, take a new wife."

At that very moment the curtain drew back and Juba stood outside the carriage, offering to help me down. My new husband cleared his throat as my words died away, and in the awkward silence I noticed Livia nearby, standing beneath the shade of an umbrella pine, her eyes narrowed in a murderous stare.

WHEREAS Rome was a chaotic warren of narrow streets, the port city of Ostia was an orderly a.s.semblage of brick shops, some of them covered in white stucco. Colorful mosaics graced the walkways in front of each building, the tiles depicting the trade of the place. Grapes in front of the wine warehouses, leaping fish before the seafood markets, and so on. The bustle was such that even the sailors, stacking sacks of wheat at the docks, were too busy to greet the emperor.

The screech of the gulls called my attention to the harbor, where I saw the masts of great ships, one of which would carry me back to Africa. The scent of grain captivated me. Oats, barley, and wheat all mingled in the ancient, earthy notes of civilization. I closed my eyes and imagined the threshing floors in Egypt, where all this grain found its source. Alas, there was too little of it, the merchants all said. The crops had failed this year and much of the rest was spoiled by vermin. In Africa, I must find a way to feed Rome, the way my mother did before me. The way Isis had fed the world since the dawn of time . . .

It was good that the emperor's most trusted political adviser was extremely wealthy, because hosting the imperial entourage would cost Maecenas a fortune. We descended upon his seaside villa en ma.s.se. To my astonishment, an entire set of apartments overlooking the ocean had been made ready for me. My sleeping chamber adjoined Juba's bedroom on one side and a room for Chryssa on the other. Without my having to command it, Chryssa capably directed the other slaves who carried my trunks. Her tastes could put lesser royalty in Asia to shame, and as we settled in I caught her appraising the decorative amphorae and each stick of gilded furniture with approval. "By the G.o.ds! This statue of Venus is an original Praxiteles," my slave girl breathed.

I stopped to admire the work of the famous sculptor, wondering if Maecenas had adorned my bedchamber with a statue of the G.o.ddess of love to honor my marriage. Two nights had pa.s.sed since the wedding, and I had no right to expect Juba to be patient much longer. He might even come to my room tonight. Was the sudden gallop of my heartbeat fear or excited antic.i.p.ation? It seemed when it came to Juba, I never knew my own mind.

IT rained that night and the gentle splashes against the roof lulled me to sleep. It rained in my dream too, like the tears of Isis falling on the desert. Beneath my bare feet, sand slipped between my toes like silk. My hands stretched to catch the raindrops. My lips were wet with kisses. It was a G.o.d who wrapped his arms around me, singing a magical little song. When I looked up to see his face, I saw only the rays of the sun, which broke through the rain to form a rainbow. It was rapture. I was overcome with a feeling of wholeness. "Who are you?" I asked, but my divine suitor didn't answer.

A sinuous shadow rose over us, a viper in the mist. It swelled, hood expanding, until my rapture turned to dread. It was an asp, the Egyptian cobra-the snake that had killed my mother and now came for me. I bolted upright, out of sleep. Wet with sweat, my hands clammy, and my heart racing. That's when I heard the knocking. I thought it must be Juba come to make a wife of me. "Selene?" someone called softly from outside, but it wasn't Juba.

Chryssa emerged from her chamber, wiping sleep from her eyes. "I think it's Lady Livia."

That made me sit up straighter. Chryssa unbolted the door, and Livia stepped inside, a mist sweeping in behind her. She held an oil lamp in one hand, and her hair was damp beneath her cloak. "The emperor wants to see you. There is news."

I lost my wits. For Livia to come for me, the news must be urgent and terrible. Philadelphus had taken ill again. The war in Thebes had taken a terrible turn. Helios had been captured. A thousand stories of tragedy played out in my mind. It took me three tries to properly fasten a robe over my sleeping gown and then I trailed behind Livia like a wraith in the fog of night. As we walked in the shadows of fabulous gilded lions and marbled athletes, Livia donned her otherworldly posture of serenity; it gave her a kind of frightening beauty, thin and ethereal.

The house was unfamiliar to me, and I can't say how many pa.s.sages we navigated before we reached the emperor's chambers. We were met by one of the praetorian guards, a man named Strabo, and though he shared the same name as Juba's friend, the highly regarded Greek historian and geographer, this Strabo was all brawn. He admitted Livia without question and I followed in her wake. To my great surprise, we found the emperor settled into bed. The room was dark. A single brazier burned. "What is it?" I gasped, the words bursting from my lungs.

Livia went to the emperor and whispered something in his ear. He caressed her arms and she stroked his forehead. I'd never seen so much as a kiss pa.s.s between the two before; they considered public affection to be vulgar. Now, in the darkened room, I saw their silhouettes close and intimate. I watched, paralyzed. "You said there was news . . ."

Livia drew away from the bed, her hand lingering in the emperor's until their fingers broke apart, like a rope unraveling. She gave me a look that would have made me shiver even if my nightclothes weren't damp. "Remember," she whispered, venom in every word. "I warned you there'd be a price for embarra.s.sing me."

"Come here, Selene," the emperor called to me. His voice was strange, throaty and unnatural.

Livia put her hands on my shoulders, nails digging into my skin like talons. "Obey him."

If I'd been fully awake, if I had any heka left in me at all, I'd have forced her to release me, but I drowned in confusion. "Come here, Selene," the emperor said again, and I took a few steps to him. Livia closed the door, leaving us alone, and Augustus rose to his feet. Then he circled me, like one of the beast hunters in the arena. "Look at you shivering like an innocent maiden . . . but we both know better, don't we?"

His eyes were half-lidded and he stumbled as if drunk, crowding me, edging me nearer and nearer to the brazier. My mouth went dry as he brought his face to mine, close enough to kiss me. It was madness. In spite of everything I knew about the emperor, I could make no sense of this moment, a strange dream. Truly, neither of us seemed fully awake. "Don't look at me that way," I said.

"Why not? You dressed like a wh.o.r.e for your wedding. I couldn't look away, and why should I have? You wanted me to look at you, Selene. You wanted me to stare."

"I wanted you to see the queen in me," I protested, suddenly apprehending the awfulness of my situation. With the emperor in front of me and the brazier behind, I was trapped between fire and ice.

He left me no retreat. "I saw your shoulders bare, Selene, with that golden snake wrapped around your upper arm. Your hair loose. You issued an open invitation for me to take you . . ."

I'd never seen him this way. He'd been my enemy, my savior, and my mentor. Never a seducer. Never! "You're mistaken."

"Did you use your magic to enchant Juba as he worked between your legs that night?"

"No!" I cried as much in shock as offense.

"Did you try to convince him that he was the first?"

"He will be!"

"Are you saying you're innocent?" the emperor asked, his gray eyes as foreboding as the stormy sky outside. "Prove it to me. If you cannot prove your innocence, then I'll let Juba divorce you as an adulterous slattern."

I could think of no proof to offer. I turned, intent upon fleeing, but he seized me by the shoulders. Those hands that had spared my life now grabbed my robe as if it were an army between us that must be conquered. He gripped the cloth until it bunched in his fists. His face was twisted, as if he were caught in the jaws of a monster, as if pa.s.sion escaped like a chained creature from the depths whose existence he couldn't admit even to himself. I thought he might kill me in his next breath. "I'll see if you're lying to me," he growled, stealing his fingers beneath my gown. I flailed, trying to escape the sudden invasion. He wasn't the strongest of men, but he had a soldier's training and I didn't. The surprise, the shock, the horror of his hand probing my most secret places made me cry out. Dry fingers pushed into my s.e.x and when he found some barrier, the murderous frost in his eyes melted away. He released me. Dazed. Astonished. "You're a virgin."

My legs gave out and I sat down hard on the edge of the bed, waves of nausea rolling over me. I put my hands over my face, squeezing the tears against my palms. "Are you satisfied now?"

He reached with a trembling hand to stroke my hair. "Oh, Selene, you were true to me. You never played me false. You really are my own Cleopatra."

"Stop it!" I cried, my voice near hysteria. Was he drunk? His eyes were bloodshot and unfocused, though I smelled no wine on his breath. Had he finally gone completely mad?

"You're as fecund as your mother, aren't you? You can give me the son that I need." He pushed me back against the bed, the wiry hairs of his legs scratching mine. "Beg," he said, tugging my gown up around my waist. I tried to clamp my legs shut, but his knees were between mine, bruisingly hard. "Beg me like the first time I saw you. I love when you beg, Selene. And cry. I want you to cry."

I didn't want to give him one more tear, but as he pushed my legs apart I couldn't hold back my sobs. "Isis, help me," I whispered, and the faintest flicker of heka blew from my fingertips, but the winds I summoned were only enough to make the fire in the brazier blow out. In the darkness, in desperation, I struck him full across the face.

We both froze. I'd actually hit him and we both knew that he'd killed men for less. He said, "Yes, just like a good Roman bride. You may struggle, Selene. You have my permission. And you must cry when I take your maidenhead. Cry like all innocent little virgins do." Trapped beneath him, my entire body quaked with disgust. He hitched up his tunic and I battered his shoulders, writhing to find an avenue of escape.

There was none.

He thrust up into me and I confess that I didn't struggle after that. He was already moving inside me, a violation so profound it didn't occur to me he could do worse. I lay there, dazed, thinking that this couldn't be happening. This was only a nightmare. Did nightmares burn with pain? He speared me over and over again, as if stabbing at my womb. I smelled my own blood and whimpered with each jerk of his hips, wondering how much longer it could possibly last.

"It's supposed to hurt, Selene." The words gave him renewed pleasure. Or maybe it was my tears that aroused him, for they flowed freely over my cheeks. "You're going to give me a son," he whispered, pumping faster, making the straps on the bed creak. His skin slapped against mine as his fingers dug hard into my b.r.e.a.s.t.s, clawing at them until they too were on fire. "You're going to carry my child, you little Egyptian wh.o.r.e!"

His body lurched and strained, his face tightening into a rictus as warm fluid flowed from his body into mine. Mercifully, he made only a few more rude thrusts. Then he collapsed on top of me, his finger over my lips. "Shhh. It's all a dream . . ."

The blood and sweat and seed trickling down my inner thigh wasn't the stuff of dreams, but I saw the emperor withdrawing into this fiction, the rabid animal he'd let loose slowly being pulled back on its tether. It was still raining outside and the pitter-patter of the water against the stone made a melancholy music. "Go to bed now, Selene. It was all a dream."

I can't say what hour it was that I stumbled back to my chambers, but the sun wasn't up yet. Even so, Chryssa was awake and fully dressed. The haunted shadows in her eyes told me that she knew what had happened to me; it had happened to her too. "Forgive me!" she cried. "When I realized it was Livia who came to fetch you I should have gone with you-"

"Be silent!" I hissed through clenched teeth. I didn't want her to look at me. I was a wounded animal, bruised and battered, though I doubted anyone could see where it hurt. What had happened to me happened to slaves everywhere. It had happened to Chryssa, and if she acknowledged it, I couldn't bear it. Instead, I pushed past her, climbed into the bed, and huddled there facing the wall, my throat filled with bile, my heart filled with hate.

EGYPTIANS say you can sense the presence of a serpent in the room before it strikes. So it was that I sensed Livia's presence even before I awakened to find her at the foot of my bed, her hair pulled back smooth, her slender shoulders adorned with a tasteful blue shawl. "Aren't you feeling well, Selene? Perhaps there's an illness in the house. The emperor is suffering from a grievous headache this morning." I didn't answer. "Well, no matter," she said, reaching to adjust the blanket under my chin. "I trust that you've learned to cover up from now on."

I slapped her hands away. "Don't touch me."

"That's a common reaction. Though I expected more tears. You do like to create a scene . . ."