The Memoirs of Cleopatra
Chapter 78 : He came to my chamber early, looking solemn. But whatever his thoughts, he stood there

He came to my chamber early, looking solemn. But whatever his thoughts, he stood there manfully and extended his hand to take mine. Silently we descended to the waiting carriage. Through the gauze of the veil I could see the other man waiting, a man with a long, thin face. He nodded to me and slid far to one side to give us room. Still no one spoke, as the horses clattered along the street. I peered out as best I could. The buildings were handsome ones, the streets swept and clean. There were no crowds, as none of this was expected or announced.

As we swung down another street, I glimpsed the famous statue of Tyche, Antioch's G.o.ddess of fortune, staring enigmatically at us, clutching her sheath of wheat. We rattled past her.

At the Temple of Isis the priest was waiting, holding the pail of sacred water. He wore the customary white linen robe, and his head was shaved. Behind him rose a beautiful statue of Isis, carved in the whitest marble I had ever seen. My lock of hair lay at her feet, a dark, s.h.i.+ning offering.

Antony and I stood before him, the others from the following carriages grouped around us. He prayed to Isis, she who had inst.i.tuted marriage, asking her to unite us, bless us, preserve us. He asked us if we came willingly to this marriage, and we each said yes--Antony loudly, I much quieter. I found it hard to speak. He asked us to vow fidelity to one another, to live as man and wife, to care for each other the rest of our lives--not fleeing before adversity, he said, or relying on prosperity, but standing side by side in all conditions until death, faced together.

A ring was not necessary, but Antony produced it and put it on my finger, announcing that in so doing he took me as his true wife.

The statue of Isis was anointed with sacred water, more prayers were said, the hair dedicated, incense lit. Hymns were intoned in the priest's high, singsong voice.

It was over. We were married. Antony took the corner of my veil and tried to lift it. " "May I see my wife's face?" he asked.

But I stopped him. "No. Not until much later." That, too, was the Greek custom.

We returned to the carriages, but the way back was much slower. As twilight fell, a torchlight procession walked ahead of us, singing wedding hymns. In the carriage, a still-silent Antony took my hand--the one with the ring-- and held it. The gold necklace lay heavy on my neck.

In the palace, the wedding feast awaited--heaps of food, hastily prepared but nonetheless succulent. There were roasted boar, smoked ba.s.s, oysters, eels, and lobsters, salt fish from Byzantium, Jericho dates, melons, mounds of cake dripping with Hymettan honey, and more of the famous Laodicean wine.

I met the officers who were to play such an important part in the coming campaign: Marcus t.i.tius, dark, lean, almost satyrlike; Ahen.o.barbus, balding but with a bushy beard, sharp eyes, and (I had been told) an even sharper tongue. He held it tonight, offering only his congratulations. There was also Munatius Plancus, a broad-beamed man with a thatch of straight, light hair, and again, Canidius Cra.s.sus. He had not only a long face but a long body as well, and was exceptionally tall, towering over others. He had a mournful look on his face, but later Antony told me he always looked like that. Certainly he seemed polite enough to me; I did not detect any hostility in his manner.

Last there was Ventidius Ba.s.sus, the general who had driven the Parthians back across the Euphrates, and, as Antony put it, "made it possible for us to be here in Antioch tonight."

Ba.s.sus bowed stiffly. Older than the others, he was actually of Caesar's generation.

"Ba.s.sus is departing for Rome for a well-earned Triumph," said Antony proudly. "And you will be sure to tell everyone in Rome about today's ceremony, will you not?"

Ba.s.sus looked surprised. "Why, yes, if you . . . want me to, Lord Antony." Obviously he had imagined Antony wanted it kept quiet, not announced in Rome.

"Yes. Yes, indeed I do. In fact, make sure you don't forget."

"No, sir."

"Here, here, is my wedding gift!" Antony cried loudly. He unrolled a scroll and read off to all the company, "To Queen Cleopatra, I hereby give the following lands: Cyprus, west Cilicia, the coasts and seaports of Phoenicia and Judaea--excepting only Tyre and Sidon--central Syria, Arabia, and the groves of balsam in Jericho and the bitumen rights to the Dead Sea."

Now all conversation ceased, and I could sense the shock and anger in the room. Antony rolled the scroll up and placed it in my hands, then folded them over it. "It is yours. All is yours."

I realized that he had given me not only Roman territory but other rights that were technically not his, such as the ones in Jericho and the Dead Sea, and Arabia. He had gone beyond even what I had asked.

"I thank you," I said, and now at last I felt hostility around me.

It was time to depart for our chamber. We were conducted there by a large company, then escorted inside. The doors were closed, but just outside them the last part of the ceremony must be enacted. A chorus sang the bridal song, and we stood and listened.

Happy groom, the wedding took place and the woman you prayed for is yours.

Now her charming face is warm with love.

My bride, your body is a joy, Your eyes as soft as honey, And love pours its light on your perfect features. Using all her skill, Aphrodite honored you.

No woman who ever was, O groom, was like her.

The voices faded away, and I could hear the footsteps departing. We were truly alone.

Now Antony lifted off the veil, freeing my face.

"Yes, it is true," he said, "No woman who ever was, is like you." He finally kissed me, and I let him.

Later, standing before the bed, I spoke. "I am scarred. I am not what I was." The birth of the twins had left its mark on me. He would find me changed.

He took my face in his wide hands. "You earned them for me, and they are precious to me."

I thought I would have forgotten his body, but I had not. The body has a memory of its own and mine remembered his, every aspect of it.

How had I pa.s.sed those four years without it?

Time and again all night, in between our times together, I would get up and look out at the dark plain stretching beyond the palace, at the starry sky, its constellations moved ever so slightly from Alexandria. That night sky of Antioch, as it holds itself in late autumn, will always be a consecrated memory for me. I cannot separate it from the joy of my reunion with Antony, and of our daring to do what we did.

Chapter 55.

For the first few days I found myself walking about in a peculiar state of mind, bringing myself up short and saying in disbelief, I am married. I am married. It was hard to fathom the subtle change it entailed. I was almost thirty-three, and had been alone--fiercely alone--all my life. Living with Caesar in Alexandria with the palace under fire, living with Antony when he came on holiday, was not the same. And altogether those had only added up to a year--one year out of thirty-three. I had borne children and raised them alone, had governed alone, using Mardian and Epaphroditus for advice and guidance only, but having no conflict between their wishes and mine. It was hard to fathom the subtle change it entailed. I was almost thirty-three, and had been alone--fiercely alone--all my life. Living with Caesar in Alexandria with the palace under fire, living with Antony when he came on holiday, was not the same. And altogether those had only added up to a year--one year out of thirty-three. I had borne children and raised them alone, had governed alone, using Mardian and Epaphroditus for advice and guidance only, but having no conflict between their wishes and mine.

Now I had a partner, politically and personally, and it felt as odd and c.u.mbersome as the gold wedding necklace on my neck. It was beautiful, it was valuable, it was enviable--but it felt unnatural.

Not that Antony was difficult to live with. I knew already how accommodating he was, how his high spirits could turn any ordinary day into a celebration. That was part of his charm. But now our plans must meld, our aims must be the same; there was no way we could extricate ourselves from each other, no way to say, You do this; it is of no consequence tome. We You do this; it is of no consequence tome. We were now of immense consequence to each other. were now of immense consequence to each other.

It was what I wanted, had thought I wanted. And his magic always was that when I was actually with him, these doubts and reservations vanished.

Winter closed in on Antioch. What was a delightful summer spot was dismal in winter--fogs and chilling, torrential rains. I wished to return to Alexandria, but Antony needed to stay where he was to ready his army. Reluctant to leave him so soon, I stayed. There were, of course, the usual festivities that abound wherever soldiers gather, especially in the winter.

And there were the nights we spent together--some of them placid, with Antony reading reports and maps, planning battle strategies, while I allowed myself the luxury of reading poetry and philosophical essays--and others pa.s.sionate, fueled by our long separation, both past and future, heightened by the wonder that we actually possessed one another.

And, inevitably, there were quarrels. A letter came from Octavia, written before the news of our marriage could have reached her. Antony read it aloud, making it sound almost comically dull.

" ' . . . and you would certainly have enjoyed the reading by Horace, which he presented at the gathering at the home of Maecenas.' Oh yes, I'm devastated to have missed it--I wonder what we were doing then.7" he mused. "Horace always bored my toga off."

"Oh, is that what got it off7 No wonder Octavia staged Horace readings regularly." No wonder Octavia staged Horace readings regularly."

He shrugged. "I should have kept it on. Making love to Octavia was like-- was like--"

"I don't want to hear what it was like." Whatever it was like, I had been sleeping alone. It must have been more satisfactory than that.

"It was like--nothing at all."

"Oh, not nothing. Surely." The whole subject made me angry.

"As near to nothing as possible."

"Well, you must have done this nothing often enough to bring forth two children. Strange that you would keep at it so doggedly."

"She was my wife! She expected--"

"I don't want to hear about that, either! I suppose you were about to say Octavian was patrolling underneath the windows to make sure you were performing your duty."

He just laughed, finding it amusing. "No, it was more like having Octavian right there in the room already."

"How appetizing."

"Why do you keep talking about it?"

"You brought it up! Reading that letter--" I pointed to it, still hanging limply from Antony's hand. He had been about to drop it into a basket of correspondence.

"Then I won't anymore! I thought if I didn't didn't read it, you would take it amiss." He waved it up and down. "I don't care about it! Forget it! read it, you would take it amiss." He waved it up and down. "I don't care about it! Forget it! Why Why does it bother you so?" does it bother you so?"

"Why does Caesar bother you you so?" The sight of the pendant sent him into fits, so I had reluctantly stopped wearing it. I would save it for Caesarion. so?" The sight of the pendant sent him into fits, so I had reluctantly stopped wearing it. I would save it for Caesarion.

"Because he--because he was Caesar! Who wants to follow Caesar? But Octavia--there's nothing extraordinary about her." He kneaded his forearms. "You are right. It's equally foolish. Anyone who poisons the present with the past is a fool." He got off the bench and came over to me, an intent look on his face. "Let us enjoy this honeyed present which the G.o.ds have granted us." He put his hands in my hair and pulled my face toward his.

"Not now!" I said, alarmed. "The envoys from Cappadocia expect to have an audience any moment." It never failed to surprise me how Antony could become aroused at the most inconvenient times.

"They will have to amuse themselves while we amuse ourselves," he said, picking me up and carrying me off into the bedchamber. "This is a wedding custom in Rome--the man has to carry the woman across the threshold. It's bad luck if I stumble. Oops." He dropped to one knee just outside the door, swooping down. "Just missed it." He stepped over the sill and put me down on the bed. "There. Bad luck averted." He leaned over me, lowering his face to mine as he bent his arms. He kissed me, first on my eyelids, then gently on both cheeks, before finally seeking my mouth.

"Now I can pretend that you are war booty," he murmured. "Captured in your palace, tied up and brought here as a captive."

"Why do you make everything into a game?" I whispered. Now he had got me aroused, too.

"Isn't Dionysus the G.o.d of actors?" he said, his mouth traveling down to my neck, the hollow of my throat. He moved over closer against me, his strong shoulder taking most of his weight. It bore down on me, pus.h.i.+ng me into the mattress. I did feel like a captive, but had no desire to escape. I brought my arms around him, running my hands down his shoulders and over his back. The very feel of the muscles and flesh drove everything else out of my mind. His mouth on me made something inside draw together and then expand. An edge of a shudder ran through me.

"Lord, the envoys--" I heard a forlorn voice in the outer chamber dying away.

"The envoys ... let them wait... a little." I could barely hear his words, they were so m.u.f.fled against my flesh.

This sudden onslaught of desire did not leave him time to take off most of his clothes, so he had little to do later to ready himself to meet the envoys, besides smoothing down his hair, which he did as he rushed out the door. I lay there, dazed, as if I had just been a.s.saulted by a force of nature, which is what Antony in full vigor was like.

I looked at a cloud formation that had been moving across the sky. It had not gone very far. Antony was right; he did not keep the envoys waiting very long. He had not exceeded the bounds of politeness.

Like an earth tremor, Antony's forthcoming campaign made the ground tingle all over the east, sending out alarm signals. It had been almost twenty years since the catastrophic Roman defeat at Carrhae, and yet the Romans were known always to avenge defeats. Ten years later Caesar was departing to do so when he was felled; now once again an army was being readied for the mission. Vengeance had been delayed but it would be certain.

Rumors about the size and scope of the army went before it like trumpeters, magnifying what was already an enormous host. There were a half a million men, an Armenian merchant reported hearing; no, a million, a trader from the Black Sea had been told by reliable sources. The equipment was secret, made by Egyptian black arts combined with Roman engineering: siege towers that were fireproof, arrows that had a range of a mile and could be accurately aimed at night, catapult stones that exploded, and food supplies that were imperishable and lightweight, so soldiers could live in the field for months at a time.

Antony told me about these marvels as he lay back one night after dinner, almost lost in the forest of pillows he had arranged for himself. I remembered, fleetingly, the time I had amused Caesar with the eastern den of pillows, but that had been downright austere compared to this.

"Yes," he said dreamily, his hands behind his head, "it seems that I command a supernatural force. Rations that never grow stale!" His voice rose in wonder. "An army that can carry all its own supplies, and not have to live off the land. Now that would be a miracle. Ah, well, such rumors may help turn my enemies to jelly before I ever arrive, may do half my work for me."

I looked down at him, where he lay in pure contentment. It was time he went back into the field; it had been five years since Philippi. Five years was a long time for a soldier to sit feasting and dreaming and relaxing. Had Caesar ever taken five years off?

Stop comparing him with Caesar, I told myself. I told myself.

But the whole world is comparing him with Caesar. This campaign is meant to compare him with Caesar, to carry out Caesar s design, to show who is Caesar's true military heir and successor. That was the truth of it. That was the truth of it.

Yes, five years was a long time for anything to lie fallow. He must bestir himself.

"Unfortunately, you and I know it is just a myth. This war will have to be fought and won the old-fas.h.i.+oned way," I said. "What is your tally for the troops so far?"

"When Canidius brings his legions back from Armenia, where he has been wintering, our strength will stand at sixteen legions--sixteen somewhat under-strength legions. But they're good soldiers, good seasoned Roman legionaries, of the sort--the sort that will be in short supply for me from now on."

The last thought caused him pain.

"Because Octavian prevents you from recruiting any more in Italy, in spite of his agreements!" I snapped. "And where are the twenty thousand he promised you, in exchange for the s.h.i.+ps he borrowed from you last year? You need not answer, we know well enough!" It had been this, finally, that had opened Antony's eyes to his devious colleague.

"Under his command, never to be released," Antony said grimly. "But after Parthia, I--"

"After Parthia is won," I corrected him.

"After Parthia is won, I will have no need of favors from him," said Antony. "As I was saying, I take sixty thousand Roman legionaries into the field, aided by thirty thousand auxiliaries. Half of those auxiliaries are under the kings of Armenia and Pontus."

"Can you trust them?" I asked.

"If I were to trust no foreign allies, how could I trust you?" He smiled.

"You are not married to King Artavasdes of Armenia, nor to Polemo of Pontus."

Now he laughed. "By Hercules, no!"

"Armenia is Parthian by culture and sympathy," I said. "How can you trust them to support Rome? It seems very risky to march into Parthia and leave them unguarded at your back."

He sighed. "You are a wise general. We should have garrisoned Armenia after Canidius's victories there, but we cannot spare the troops. The King seems honest in his support, and he is contributing a small army to our cause, commanding it in person."

"I like it not," I said.

"You have trained yourself to be suspicious of everyone and everybody," he said.

"If I had not, I would not be alive now to be sitting beside you." All my siblings were dead, and none--except little Ptolemy--by natural causes.

He reached out and touched my hair. "For which I am profoundly grateful," he said. "But stop sitting, and lie here beside me. You look down upon me too sternly from those heights."