The Memoirs of Cleopatra Part 3

But once in the safety of my own rooms, I shook with shock and fear. They had turned on-their own father, seized the throne. They had committed a most grave sin; it was the curse of the Ptolemies. Their blood was compelling them to it.

For we came from a very murderous and b.l.o.o.d.y line, with such familial killings as sickened the world. Brother had killed brother, wife, mother . . . it was a hideous legacy. I had prided myself that we, this generation, were made of finer stuff. Now it seemed that I was horribly mistaken.

Father! Father had been deposed by his own daughters. And what would they stop at? Me, Arsinoe, the two boys--would they destroy us all as well?

I had no one to confide in. I was long since too old for a nurse, and no confidant had replaced her. I felt utterly alone.

There was only, as always, Isis.

I was safe, for now. They would allow me to live as long as I kept myself in obscurity, was young enough to be harmless, and did not attempt to build up a following. As if I could have!

And so I contented myself with my "eunuchs and horses," as they had contemptuously described them. There were, in those days, flocks of eunuchs around the royal grounds. Eunuchs were important in nearly every sphere of life; it is impossible to imagine palace life without them. In a world in which dynastic ambition ran riot, the eunuchs alone were exempt from suspicion. They served as tutors to the royal children, as confidants to both kings and queens, as ministers and generals. A man whose earthly fortunes would end with himself was devoted to his master. Curious how much we do for our posterity, and how our behavior would change without descendants. And the popular, sneering prejudice about their condition meant that they could never seize open power, but must always remain hidden, shadow-figures behind their masters. Ideal servants, then, for such as the Ptolemies.

Obviously, one could not come from a long line of eunuchs--no one ever claimed his father and grandfather were eunuchs--but the practice of designating one's children to be eunuchs seemed more prevalent in some families than in others. Only the most promising boys were selected--for what was the point in making that sacrifice if the boy did not have much hope of attaining worldly success? Therefore, when one said "eunuch," one was also implying "talented, clever, and diligent."

Most eunuchs in Alexandria were Greek, or Egyptians who had become quite Greek in their thinking. There were also Cappadocians, Phrygians, Bithynians, and such, likewise Grecophiles. In Egypt there was no forced castration, or any castration of slaves. It was entirely voluntary, which made it a little less guilt-laden for those of us who employed the eunuchs.

Usually the operation was done at a fairly early age. Not in infancy, of course, because it was best to wait until the child had proved healthy. Sometimes, in special circ.u.mstances, it was done later, even after a boy had started turning into a man, and then the eunuch was different from the usual kind. His voice would be deeper and he might be easily mistaken for any other man.

I thought little about eunuchs, taking them for granted. It was only after I went to Rome that I discovered what it was like to live in a world without them.

I discovered Mardian not long after I embraced Alexander as my comfort. Whenever I went to the tomb, I hoped to have it to myself. But for several days in a row, a bulky little boy was always there when I went. He would be kneeling before the sarcophagus, motionless--he must have had knees of iron--his head bent reverently. Or he would be bending over the coffin, a mooning sort of look on his round face. Truth to tell, he annoyed me. I wished he would go away. I could have ordered him removed, but I hoped he would go away without having to be asked. Day after day he was there. My patience wore away. I began to think he was deliberately interfering with my time with Alexander. When at night I closed my eyes and tried to think of Alexander, this boy's head would always be sticking up somewhere in the picture. It was not n.o.ble or inspiring.

The next day, as I descended into the crypt, I prayed he would not be there. And for a moment I thought he was not. Then I saw--again!--that round form hunched over, guarding the coffin. It was too much.

"Leave!" I cried, running over to him. "Or come some other time! Come in the early morning!" I could never get away in the early morning; that was one of the busiest times in the children's quarters. He could have Alexander all to himself then.

He stood up. "I can't," he said with quiet dignity. He was taller than I was. I had no idea he was a eunuch. It does not become apparent until later.

"Why not?" I demanded.

"This is my only free time."

"Do you know who I am?" I said. Could he not recognize an order from a princess?

"Yes," he answered, again with that strange dignity. "You are Cleopatra the younger. If you were Roman you would be called Cleopatra Minor, which would be wrong. You are no slight personage."

"And who are you?"

"My name is Mardian," he said. "I live in the Royal Quarters, Princess. I am studying, hoping to be of use someday to the King."

"Oh . . . you are a eunuch eunuch," I said, suddenly understanding.

"Yes," he said, without flinching.

"Why do you come here, day after day?" I could ask him that, whereas he could not ask me.

"Because I wish to be like Alexander."

I burst out laughing at his answer, then felt bad when I saw his face. He had not expected that blow from me. "There is no one like Alexander." I tried to cover it up. "Anyone who attempts it would seem laughable to others. Think of all the pitiful kings who have called themselves Alexander, tried to emulate him, had themselves carved in his poses with his flaring hair, his turned neck. No, we can never be Alexander." I was talking too fast, trying to apologize without actually saying the words.

"So you, too, wish to be Alexander? You said 'we.' "

He had caught me. "Yes," I admitted. "I would like to be like Alexander. I suppose you would say a woman is an even more unlikely Alexander than a eunuch. And you would be right. But I can attempt to be like him in character. And sometimes he seems more alive to me than to the people walking around the palace grounds."

Alexander lay silent and golden in his coffin while our words flew back and forth over his head.

"Yes! To me also!" Mardian said. "He helps me to bear it all. When I'm teased or taunted, I just tell myself, Tomorrow you can take it all to Alexander.' " He looked a little embarra.s.sed that he would admit such a thing.

"Tell me where you live in the Royal Quarters," I asked. "Perhaps I can visit you there." I had almost forgotten I had considered him a pest only a few minutes ago.

"I am in the big building directly across from the Temple of Isis, the one that overlooks the eastern sea."

I knew it well: it was a busy place, with a school for scribes as well as the archives for war records.

"Are there others--" I wanted to say "like you," but I hesitated.

"No, I'm the only eunuch in my study group," he answered cheerfully. "There are about fifteen of us. Our mathematics tutor, Demetrius, is a eunuch; for the rest, we have a grammatician from Athens and a rhetorician from Chios."

"So do we," I said, making a face. "Our rhetorician is named Theodotos, and I hate him! He's sneaky and mean--like a snake."

"Snakes aren't sneaky, and they certainly aren't mean," said Mardian gravely. He looked offended.

"What do you mean?" Everyone knew that snakes had that nature, even if the cobra-G.o.ddess Wadjyt protected the Pharaohs and rulers of Egypt, and the royal crown showed her with hood spread.

"I have studied snakes," he said. "They are different from what the snake-charmers want you to think. You should see my animals; I have several pens of them near the stables. And I built a big enclosure for my snakes."

"What other animals do you keep?" My curiosity was stirred.

"I had an ostrich for a while," he said. "It grew too big for me. So now I have only small animals--lizards and tortoises and hedgehogs. I'd like to get a baby crocodile."

"I'd like to see your menagerie, Mardian," I said. And we left Alexander, not having paid much attention to him on this visit.

Chapter 5.

It was not many days before I found myself drawn to where Mardian took his lessons, and found him and his schoolmates with their tutor. My arrival caused much stirring and curiosity, but the lesson--on geometry, an Alexandrian specialty--continued. I waited, watching, from the back. There were mainly boys there, but I saw five or six girls, and then--I recognized Olympos.

He was hunched over his paper, concentrating on it so hard that it seemed it might take fire from his scrutiny. He was bigger now, and he had lost whatever roundness had still been in his limbs and shoulders when I met him at that memorable banquet. . . was it five years ago already? Now his -face was very lean, making his riveting eyes even more noticeable. He must be fourteen now, at least.

When the cla.s.s was over, I waited for Mardian to greet me. But he ignored me and continued talking to one of his companions. Finally I went over to him and said, "Are you ashamed to know me, Mardian?"

He looked terrified. "No, no, Princess!" His companion withdrew as quickly as possible. "I did not wish to presume--to make any claims of knowing you, since it was only by accident that our paths crossed. It would have been impudent--"

"Nonsense!" I said, while knowing that others in my position might well have seen things that way. A chance meeting did not const.i.tute a friendship. "Are we not brothers in Alexander?" Even as I said it, I realized that brothers brothers was an odd word to use, when neither of us was male in the physical sense. Still, was an odd word to use, when neither of us was male in the physical sense. Still, brothers brothers meant more than just the body. meant more than just the body.

"If you wish us to be, then so do I," he said.

"Good, then that's settled." I put my arm around his shoulders. "I wish you to show me your animals. Then I'll take you to our royal menagerie. And then--"

Mardian turned out to be such a delightful companion that I found myself missing him a little the next day. Our friendship grew as we did our lessons, picked flowers, constructed miniature walled cities out of tiny baked mud bricks. Together we built a chariot that could be pulled by black she-goats, and we felt very grand as we were carried in triumph around the grounds.

The next time I visited the cla.s.s, the teacher was drilling them on the Ptolemies, and looked truly alarmed when he saw me.

"And the eighth Ptolemy, when he was officially entertaining Scipio Aemilia.n.u.s from Rome, was forced to walk--" He blanched as I appeared. "That is, his gown--it was--"

"It was transparent," I finished for him. "And the sight was very comical, because he was so immensely fat, and gasped for breath after walking only a few steps." Yes, I knew all the embarra.s.sing stories about my ancestors. I must not flinch from them, or make the teacher change his lesson on my account. The obese glutton was my great-grandfather, nicknamed Physcon--"Fatty"-- by the Alexandrians, who love nicknames. "And the haughty Roman said, 'I have given the people of the city a novel sight: their King actually walking * and getting some exercise.' "

The students laughed.

All these humiliations at the hands of Rome--they went back a long way. And Physcon was not the only fat man in my family tree; many others were huge. In consequence, I was always careful of what I ate, determined to stay slim, although the women in our family seemed not to be afflicted with obesity.

"Yes, Princess," said the tutor, fl.u.s.tered. I was sorry I had barged into the lessons; it seemed I could never do a normal thing without calling attention to myself. I must not come there again. But to leave now would cause even more disturbance, so I had to remain until the hour was over.

Afterward Mardian came over to me, followed by Olympos.

"I am pleased to see you again," I said. "But have you studied here all these years, and never let me know?" I scolded Olympos. Was being a princess so intimidating that it drove people to flee from us?

"Mostly I am taught at the Museion," said Olympos. "But it is good to escape from the shadow of one's parents--as you doubtless know. My father, with his scholarly reputation, casts a long shadow at the Museion." "Not as big as the one my fat ancestor casts!" I said, laughing. "It is difficult indeed to move out from under his umbrella."

"You know one another?" Mardian looked surprised.

"We met long ago," I said. "When Pompey came to Alexandria." I paused. "Both of us wanted to go to a banquet that we had no business attending."

"Olympos probably impressed all the adults--he usually does," said Mardian.

"Not any longer," said Olympos. "I am now too old to get by on precocity. It stops working around the age of thirteen."

"Yes," said Mardian. "Everyone likes a witty child, but beyond a certain age they're considered tiresome."

"Well, I certainly wouldn't want to be that," said Olympos, raising his eyebrows.

We three began to spend time together; Olympos seemed lonely, although he would never have admitted it. Perhaps his intellect and adult demeanor put others off. His interest in medicine had not waned, and he was preparing to study here in Alexandria, where the medical school was the finest in the world. Mardian was also a lone figure, as he approached the age where his condition would make him visibly different from others. And I? I was the princess whose future was in severe doubt, an object of curiosity and speculation and whispers. People kept their distance.

And then the feared day came, the day I had braced myself for all my life. Olympos announced with pride that he had acquired a little sailboat, and wished to take us out in the harbor. Would it be permissible for him to use the inner, royal harbor to practice on? The water was much calmer there.

"I know all Greeks are supposed to be born with the skill of Odysseus coursing through their blood, but it missed me," he said. "Still, I love the water."

The water: now I would have to confront it at last or admit that I was afraid, and stay on the sh.o.r.e for the rest of my life. Until now it had not mattered. No voyages had beckoned, no friends had issued invitations that involved boats.

"Of course," I said. "Take all the time you like to train yourself there. You can tie the boat up at the foot of the palace stairs, the ones that go right down into the water."

"Thank you," he said. "I will practice as much as possible, so I can take you out soon!"

Unfortunately, I knew he would. By that time I knew him well enough to know he always honored his promises--and his timetable.

High summer, just like . . . that that day. Sun riding overhead, pouring its warmth out, heating the water in the shallow sandy-bottomed harbor to a lulling temperature. The colors, too, were the same--milky blue-green, gentle waves wearing a rim of white foam. day. Sun riding overhead, pouring its warmth out, heating the water in the shallow sandy-bottomed harbor to a lulling temperature. The colors, too, were the same--milky blue-green, gentle waves wearing a rim of white foam.

"Come." Olympos had waded waist-deep in the water, and was holding the bobbing boat. He expected us to wade out, too, and clamber over the sides. I looked at the water lapping at my toes, seeming innocent. But farther out it got deeper and deeper.

I knew sometimes people learned to swim by hanging on to an inflated animal skin. They paddled around and got used to the water that way. Now I wished I had done that. But it was too late now.

"Come on!" Olympos was growing impatient. Out of courtesy, Mardian was waiting for me to go first. I had to do it.

I had worn a tunic that stopped halfway down to my knees, and had no extra material to tangle itself around me. Gingerly I took one step out into the water, deliberately making it a long one. The water came halfway up my calf. I picked up the other foot and walked farther out, so that the water now swirled around my knees.

I could feel the tug of the current, gentle though it was. Under my toes the sand eroded, making me sink a little deeper. The water covered my knees. A wave came, lifting me a little, then subsided, settling me back down. I did not like it; it felt like being in a strong wind.

"Are you trying to be as slow as possible?" Olympos sounded irritated. "I'm tired of holding this boat."

I moved again, and this time the water was growing so deep--up to my waist--that I had to fling both arms out for balance. I hated the feel of it, cooler than it had been on my legs, encircling me. Another step and it was up to my chest. But now the boat was near. All I had to do was move sideways.

Which proved surprisingly difficult. The water felt thick, and the waves-- small as they were--pushed against me, seemingly wanting to make me lose my footing. At last--just as a wave sent spray into my face--I grasped the st.u.r.dy wooden side of the boat and hauled myself over the side. Behind me, Mardian was wading resolutely through the blue enemy, unsuspecting.

When we were both in, Olympos climbed over the prow, the tie-rope in his hand. "There! I thought you would never get here!" He looked at me sternly. "If I didn't know better, I would think you had never set foot in the water before!" Then he laughed to show how ridiculous that idea was.

Happily he busied himself with the line and sails, settling himself by the steering-oar. The breeze was coming from the west, and the sail caught it, pulling us over to the right side. I clutched onto the side as I felt the boat lurch, and my own stomach plummet. Olympos was laughing, enjoying the sensation. Even Mardian had a broad smile on his face.

To them it was a pleasurable outing. What is one person's diversion may be another's supreme test. And so often we sit beside one another, unknowing.

We were heading out into the harbor, toward the larger boats. I looked down and saw the bottom disappearing beneath us. At first it had been visible, and the sun-dappled spots played on the sandy bottom, where I could also see fish and seaweed. Now the depths were shadowy.

I felt a cold panic rising up in my throat. We were going to retrace that entire journey of long ago, and were on our way to the very spot where the boat had overturned. I shut my eyes and tried to concentrate only on the sensations of the little slaps of water under the boat.

"Wheel" Olympos gave a squeal as we hit some large wave; it felt like running over a barrier, as hard as dirt. Salt spray slapped me across the face, coating my mouth. I licked the crust and swallowed hard.

We sailed around the harbor for what seemed hours, in and out of the wake of the larger ships, and some part of me noted how delighted Olympos was, how his spirits soared. He had ceased paying any attention to me--for which I was grateful. Mardian was absorbed in looking down into the water to try to see squid or sea urchins or even a dolphin. He peered over the side, not minding when waves smacked him full in the face.

There was no canopy here, so there were no reflections. There were no attendants, screaming and jumping about. Those memories were not stirred. But the sounds, the taste of the salt spray, the piercing colors, all a.s.saulted me. This time I was not helpless, not held down, not torn from anyone. I had the strength to hold myself erect, to make sure I was not dislodged from the boat. I was determined to endure this ordeal.

At last--at long last--Olympos turned the boat for the palace dock. The sun was halfway down the sky, and the tide was coming in. I could feel how it bore us to sh.o.r.e. The rocking of the boat was not unappealing; the terror of it had subsided, become manageable.

"Now let's swim!" Olympos suddenly announced, tossing the rope-encircled stone that served as his anchor out into the water. It sank with a gurgle and jerked the boat to the left when it hit bottom.

Not this! I had thought the torture--which had been gradually abating the whole time we were out--was over. But swimming ... I could not swim.

Olympos dived overboard, cleanly and neatly disappearing into the water. My stomach turned over, even though I knew he would bob up a few feet away. Or rather, I hoped hoped that he would. And sure enough, he emerged on the other side of the boat and slapped the water, drenching us with a wall of spray. that he would. And sure enough, he emerged on the other side of the boat and slapped the water, drenching us with a wall of spray.

With injured dignity, Mardian, already soaked, leapt over the side of the boat, landing like a catapult stone, sending even more water on my head. Then both boys started a water fight, yelling and trying to sink each other. It took them some time to notice that I was still in the boat.

"What are you waiting for?" Olympos shouted. "You act as if you're afraid of it!" Clearly he thought that was the most insulting, as well as unlikely, accusation he could make.

How deep was it? Was it over my head? I peered over the side, trying to see the bottom, but it was all in shadow.