The Memoirs of Cleopatra
Chapter 80 : "Well, here in Antioch they are too lazy to get up out of their scented baths to f

"Well, here in Antioch they are too lazy to get up out of their scented baths to form form a mob," I said. a mob," I said.

"Good," said Mardian. "That makes the streets safer."

Alexander and Selene had betrayed great curiosity about their father. Until now, they had a.s.sumed that he was dead, like Caesarion's father. In fact, it seemed the normal state for a father, to have retired to the heavens. Now that he was with them, they kept staring at him and saying, "Are you truly truly our father? Will you stay?" our father? Will you stay?"

"Yes," Antony had said the first time, hugging them both at the same time. "And yes, I will stay, although I will be gone from time to time. But I will always come back."

Now he lay back down on the blanket covering the rough ground, and closed his eyes. "I will give you a hundred counts to hide," he said. "And if I cannot find you in another hundred counts, you may name a prize for yourself." He opened one eye and stared at them. "Ready?"

With a squeal, they scampered off. " "One--two--" When he got up to ten, he stopped. "That should busy them for a while," he said, sitting up and kissing me.

"You are cheating," I said. "Those poor children--"

"They will welcome a few extra minutes to hide," he a.s.sured me.

Behind us the tinkle of the goat-bells grew louder, and the olive trees shading us rustled in the soft breeze. I had never been so content. Just as the vista of Antioch and the plain spread out below me as far as I could see in all directions, so the future lay, fair and promising. I loved, I was loved; I was surrounded by my children; my country was prosperous, and the ugly past, fraught with dangers and defeats, was receding like a distant sh.o.r.e. Antony and I saw eye-to-eye in everything; now that he had cast off Octavian, our aims had truly become one. The joy of it was dizzying.

It is almost impossible to describe happiness, because at the time it feels entirely natural, as if all the rest of your life has been the aberration; only in retrospect does it swim into focus as the rare and precious thing it is. When it is present, it seems to be eternal, abiding forever, and there is no need to examine it or clutch it. Later, when it has evaporated, you stare in dismay at your empty palm, where only a little of the perfume lingers to prove that once it was there, and now is flown.

So those days in Antioch with Antony. The world lay before him, waiting for his invading footstep. Antic.i.p.ation quickened every day, but reality still was far enough off to float on the mist of possibilities, seductive and soothing, just out of reach.

We danced in a haze of joy like two b.u.t.terflies, flying from one hedge to another, caught up in a divine drunkenness of the spirit. I was young, sometimes feeling younger even than the children; I was entirely adult, believing myself endowed with mature wisdom, having no trouble making even the most difficult decisions--all answers seemed given to me. Everything Everything seemed given to me. If I forgot to thank you, Isis--forgive me. I do so now, belatedly. seemed given to me. If I forgot to thank you, Isis--forgive me. I do so now, belatedly.

Mardian was leaving, taking the children back to Alexandria with him. "Duty calls," he said pointedly.

"I will return by summer," I promised him. "If I did not have such trustworthy ministers, I could not be away so long."

"Oh, so I am to blame for your absence?" he said. "Am I to be punished for being competent?"

I laughed. "Most ministers would not consider being left in charge to be punishment," I reminded him.

"Perhaps most ministers do not like the kings and generals they serve," he said. "We must be the exception. Well, do not linger too long. How do you plan to return? When shall I send a s.h.i.+p?"

I had been thinking of that. A brilliant idea had come to me. All my ideas during those weeks seemed brilliant. "I won't need a s.h.i.+p," I said. "I plan to accompany Antony as far as Armenia, and that leaves me a long way from the sea. So I have decided to retrace my steps and journey through Judaea. I will pay Herod a diplomatic visit."

He raised his eyebrows. "You're a trusting soul," he said. "Putting yourself in his hands! He has little cause to protect you, and much cause to see that an 'accident' befalls you."

"He wouldn't dare," I said. I knew Herod and I were antagonists now, since I had asked for--and been granted--large portions of his kingdom. He was said to be boiling about the loss of the lucrative date palm and balsam groves in Jericho, and his seaports as far south as Gaza.

"I repeat, you are are a trusting soul," said Mardian. "There is no limit to what someone will dare when he sees his country's existence threatened." a trusting soul," said Mardian. "There is no limit to what someone will dare when he sees his country's existence threatened."

Now those words return to me; someone continually pours them into Octavian's ear about me.

"It is in my interest to placate him, then," I said.

"Unless you plan to restore his property to him, I fail to see what you can offer."

"My friends.h.i.+p rather than my enmity."

"It is his place to offer that. Naturally, you you would want to offer friends.h.i.+p, since you are the gainer; it is up to the loser to put aside enmity, and you cannot force that." would want to offer friends.h.i.+p, since you are the gainer; it is up to the loser to put aside enmity, and you cannot force that."

"True," I said. "But no harm can come of meeting with him."

"Don't be too sure," said Mardian.

It was hard for me to tell whether he was entirely serious. He raised one of his eyebrows and stretched, breaking the tension.

"You have not shown me Daphne yet, and how can I return to Alexandria without seeing the famous laurel tree? Olympos will be disappointed."

Yes, Olympos had an academic interest in the sites where supernatural transformations had taken place. He had visited the weeping rock that had once been Niobe, had inspected an oak tree said to contain a nymph, and had dissected sunflowers to see if their stems were different from those of regular flowers, since they were supposed to originate from a maiden named Clytie who was hopelessly in love with Apollo. Seeing no difference, he published a paper refuting the story.

"As if anyone had believed it anyway," Mardian said. "Why does he waste his time like that?"

Now I agreed that Mardian and I must inspect one of the most famous "transformation" trees, the one where Daphne had taken root and sprouted leaves to escape the predations of Apollo.

"Apollo seems to have an adverse effect on women," I said. "Clytie had to turn into a sunflower to put an end to her unrequited love, and Daphne decided she would rather be a tree than yield to his embraces. How sad they could not change places!"

"That's how legends are," said Mardian. "Everyone wants what he cannot have, and gets punished. But tell me--if Apollo was so attractive, why did that nymph run away? I ask you, as a woman, to explain it."

"Perhaps she ran away from him because he was was so attractive," I said. so attractive," I said.

"That makes no sense," argued Mardian.

It did not, but I knew it happened. After all, I had resisted meeting with Antony.

"Sometimes we run away just to thwart fate," I finally said. "Come, let us go out to Daphne."

We clattered along in our carriage, leaving the palace island, pa.s.sing the old agora, and then traveling the wide paved street toward the elaborate fountain built over the original sweet springs of Antioch. Crowds of people were gathered idly around it, dresseid in outlandish garb. They waved at us and shouted in high-pitched voices. A peculiar oily smell drifted toward us.

"Faster!" Mardian ordered the driver. "That smell--how can they call it perfume?" He held his nose.

"I think it is many perfumes fighting," I said.

"Well, it makes a stink!" Mardian looked disdainful. "And did you see the makeup? As garish as a mummy-carton! On both s.e.xes!"

"Mardian, I do believe you are turning into a prude," I said. "Who would ever have expected it of an Alexandrian eunuch?"

"Don't tell me you like like these people!" His initial enthusiasm for the Antiochenes had waned. these people!" His initial enthusiasm for the Antiochenes had waned.

"I have no prejudices against any particular people. I take them as individuals, you should know that." I would have to, if Antony and I were to rule over many lands and peoples. But I had always felt that way.

"This city seems to have adopted all the bad fas.h.i.+ons of Alexandria."

"And much of the good," I insisted. "It is the third city in the world now, after Alexandria and Rome. If it does not quite measure up to them--that is why it is third. But there is much to like here." Could the place where I had married ever be less than dear to me?

Soon we pa.s.sed the famous Antioch statue, the G.o.ddess of Fortune wearing city walls for her crown, resting on Mount Silpius, the Orontes River swimming beneath her feet. How placid, how uninvolved Fortune looked, as she blandly oversaw men's fates. Her indifference was chilling.

Some little distance from the city lay the sacred precinct of Daphne, where Seleucus I had been commanded by Apollo to plant an extensive grove of cypresses. They surrounded the ancient laurel tree; and of course there was the inevitable Temple of Apollo nestled nearby.

We alighted from the carriage and followed a path through the shadowy grove. The long fingers of the cypresses, like a hall of columns, made us feel we were pa.s.sing through a natural temple.

The laurel, twisted and thick, lay in the very center of the grove. It stood with a forsaken dignity, as if long-suffering. It had long ago lost its slender form, becoming gnarled with age, and any nymph residing within was imprisoned in an ugly citadel--a sad fate for something once lovely and young. She had paid a high price for resisting Apollo.

Mardian ran his fingers over the rough bark. 'Are you in there, Daphne?" he called lightly.

Overhead the leaves, still delicate and healthy, rustled slightly, like a sigh.

Final preparations for the army were in hand, as melting snows from the mountains gushed down the slopes, opening the pa.s.ses. Soon Antony would embark: the long-postponed venture was at hand. His generals--all except Canidius--were gathered at headquarters. t.i.tius, the lean-faced nephew of Plancus, was to serve as quaestor quaestor, and Ahen.o.barbus would command several legions. Dellius, the man who had so rudely summoned me to Tarsus all those years ago, would also be entrusted with legions and the task of writing the history of the campaign, as Antony never wrote accounts of his wars. The excitement of the coming campaign hung in the air, like a smell of metal and fire.

Ahen.o.barbus, who had visited Rome to settle some family business, asked to speak to Antony privately; Antony took that to include me as well. I could see by Ahen.o.barbus's face that he wished to be alone with Antony. His little eyes focused on me, and his forced smile and flat voice made that clear. But Antony ignored it, and merely urged him to speak his mind.

"And how have you left Rome?" Antony asked, handing him a cup of wine, which Ahen.o.barbus ostentatiously declined. Antony shrugged and took it himself.

"Behind," Ahen.o.barbus said. "And faring well enough, although there is a severe shortage of bread. So all the talk is about this season's attack on s.e.xtus."

"It will be a repeat of the last," said Antony. "They are helpless against the self-styled Son of Neptune."

"I think not," said Ahen.o.barbus. His voice was sharp. "Agrippa created a naval training station near Misenum, and he has been training crack oarsmen all winter. They will meet s.e.xtus as equals. He has also built a fleet of huge s.h.i.+ps, so large that s.e.xtus cannot attack them. And as if that were not enough, he has invented a device that allows him to shoot a grappling hook over great distances from the safety of his floating forts. He will haul in s.e.xtus's boats like little silver fish."

"Ah well, I wish him luck," said Antony, and he meant it. "Did you speak to Octavian about our venture?"

"Oh yes. He invited me to a most delicious dinner." Ahen.o.barbus paused for dramatic effect. "He was curious about your preparations--although he seemed well apprised of all the details I recounted. The man has spies everywhere."

Are you one? I wondered. He sounded like it.

"Aside from Octavian, how do Romans look upon it?" Antony asked.

"They do not seem to pay it much mind," said Ahen.o.barbus. "They are much more concerned with their bellies and bread than with foreign conquests. We have had so many foreign conquests at the hands of Caesar that perhaps interest has worn thin." His smile was equally thin. He spread his hands as if to say, What remedy? What remedy?

"Did Octavian--how did he receive the news of my marriage with the Queen?" Antony took my hand proudly.

We had had no word from Rome; our announcement was met with a silence that seemed to grow louder with each pa.s.sing day.

"If he has received it, he does not acknowledge it," said Ahen.o.barbus. "He spoke of granting you the right to dine at the Temple of Concord with your wife and daughters, when you return to Rome. A great honor."

"Another daughter?" Antony had had no word from Octavia since she had gone back to Rome.

"Why, yes," said Ahen.o.barbus. "You were not told?" He seemed genuinely surprised.

"No," Antony admitted. "No, I have not been informed." He finished his cup of wine and set it down. I could see that he was taken aback; he might have shaken the dust of Rome from his feet, but he had never considered they might have done the same to him. Ignoring his campaign and our marriage was a signal insult.

"That was rude of them," said Ahen.o.barbus, half jokingly. "Well, after we give the Parthians a thras.h.i.+ng, they'll mind their manners better in Rome." He paused. "Now, as for the campaign--if you have not lost your touch of splendid nonchalance on the field, we shall soon have a new Roman province."

After he left, I wheeled around on Antony. "How dare Octavian ignore our marriage?"

Antony looked tired, as he sank down on a couch. He ran his hands through his hair and rubbed his temples. "He is not ignoring it, believe me, regardless of what he wants us to think."

"Send Octavia her papers of divorce," I said. "He cannot ignore that." If she had had her child, then there was no reason to hold back. "It is time."

"No," he said stubbornly. "There is no point in fighting a war on two fronts. If he ignores you, then let me ignore Octavia. Sometimes ignoring someone is a stronger statement than taking action. Let Octavian see how it feels."

"You keep giving reasons for not divorcing her."

"Let them ask ask me to," he said. "Let them acknowledge that they have failed to force the marriage upon me, and are hurting only themselves. I have no wish to harm Octavia," he said quickly. "Surely Octavian will see that she is the one who suffers most in this, since she cannot marry anyone else until she is free." me to," he said. "Let them acknowledge that they have failed to force the marriage upon me, and are hurting only themselves. I have no wish to harm Octavia," he said quickly. "Surely Octavian will see that she is the one who suffers most in this, since she cannot marry anyone else until she is free."

"I don't think he cares how much she suffers, as long as he has a hold over you you," I said.

That night had the feeling of a farewell, although there would be a few more days before we actually left Antioch. But the chamber, its packed trunks and coffers already taken away, seemed empty and echoing--as if our belongings had embarked on the next stage, leaving us behind.

Lying together in the high bed, its mosquito net making a gauzy tent around us, I said sleepily, "This is like a play-tent." I rested my head on his shoulder, feeling supremely contented after a prolonged session of lovemaking. "There would not be time for this in a real tent, on a real battlefield."

"No." He sounded wide awake. "I will miss you very keenly. Now even a war tent seems lacking without you, so completely do you fill every aspect of my life."

"You make me sound like a faithful hound," I said, with a drowsy laugh.

Now that the moment had come, the venture that carried so much weight sat lightly upon him. Perhaps that was the only way to bear it.

Sometime in the middle of the night a ferocious spring storm broke, with fearsome lightning flashes and sonorous rolls of thunder. Asleep at last, Antony barely stirred, except to burrow his s.h.a.ggy head deeper against my neck. But I lay listening, hearing the rain was.h.i.+ng down from the roof, cleansing the world.

By dawn the storm was over, and only roiling gray clouds remained. The soaked earth, black and deep-plowed, released a thick, rich, fertile-smelling cloud. Everywhere branches drooped with the aftermath of the pelting rain, each end a s.h.i.+mmering k.n.o.b of water, each leaf and blossom gleaming. Huge puddles lay scattered on the paving stones; a few brave birds were already singing.

"Come." I circled Antony's waist as we stood looking out at the new-washed garden outside our doors, bordering the wide flagstone terrace. "Let us go outside and walk in it."

Barefoot, we emerged onto the terrace, where the cold stones and water made our feet tingle. The hems of our gowns dragged, becoming rimmed with water. Out in the garden itself, the slippery gra.s.s, chilled and as sleek as an animal's fur, gave off a piercingly sweet aroma as we crushed it under our toes. A gust of wind would shake the laden boughs of trees far overhead, sending down showers on us, soaking our shoulders.

Everywhere there was the gentle sound of dripping. The Persian lilacs, weighed down with their heavy cl.u.s.ters of flowers, bent gracefully, like a row of courtiers. We walked between them, letting the flowers slap us, sending scented spray into our faces.

After the rain, there is a magic that evaporates when the sun comes out.

I stopped and shut my eyes, feeling only the slight chill, smelling the lilacs and damp earth, hearing the water drops fall from boughs. The perfume seemed intensified by the moisture, and when I looked down at the ground, at all the little plants br.i.m.m.i.n.g with water in their cups, the colors seemed magnified as well, the greens sharp and dazzling. The purple of the violets, the blue of the irises were like jewels.

I seemed to be in paradise, for that is what a garden is after the rain, in spring.

After the rain ... ... I tightened my arm around Antony, to prove to myself this was no dream, to feel his solid flesh. I tightened my arm around Antony, to prove to myself this was no dream, to feel his solid flesh.

Far to the east, behind Mount Silpius and the sunrise, lay Parthia, waiting.

Chapter 57.