The judgement of Caesar

CHAPTER XVIII

Rupa grunted in reply and pointed toward the building that housed the Tomb of Alexander.

I wrinkled my brow. "I don't understand."

He pointed more insistently, then grabbed my hand and pulled me in the direction in which he was pointing. His sheer size caused a path to open in the crowd; anyone foolish enough to stand in our way he brusquely pushed aside. By nature, Rupa was the gentlest of men, but when called upon, he knew how to wield the strength the gods had given him.

But even Rupa was no match for the gang of toughs who suddenly blocked our way. They appeared to be dockworkers, judging from the huge muscles that popped from their shoulders and arms, not to mention the briny smell that came off their ragged tunics. There were seven or eight of them, and they carried the tools of their trade: iron grappling hooks, lengths of heavy chain, nets made of rope, and barge poles as thick as a man's forearm-lethal weapons in the hands of men like these.

"You, there!" their leader shouted, taking notice of Rupa on account of his size, then casting a disparaging glance at me. "Where did those Romans go, the ones who dared to come and carry off the king?"

"Right," said another, "we're on a Roman hunt! We mean to kill as many of those bastards as we can, and keep killing them until they get out of Egypt and head back to where they came from!"

Rupa looked at them blankly.

"What's the matter, too good to talk to the likes of us?" The leader wound a chain around one fist, then pulled the remainder taut. "Or maybe you two actually like these Romans? Maybe you think it's alright for Julius blowhard Caesar to screw the king's sister and start bossing us all around?" He swung the chain through the air, making a whooshing sound.

"He's mute," I started to say, then realized that my accent would give me away. If these men were intent on killing Romans, I had no desire for them to begin with me. Even the smallest of them looked capable of tearing my head from my shoulders.

I grunted and poked Rupa to get his attention, then executed a series of signs, speaking to him in the vocabulary Rupa himself had developed using his hands and facial expressions in lieu of a voice. Careful, I said. These fellows are big!

I'm not afraid of them, Rupa insisted.

But I am! I gestured.

"What's this?" said the leader, squinting at us suspiciously.

"I think they must be a pair of deaf-mutes," said his friend. "I've got a cousin like that. Married a woman just like him. They talk with their hands."

The leader looked Rupa up and down, then sneered at me. "Ah, well, then. Leave them to it. Now let's go kill some Romans!"

They ran on, in the direction of the palace.

Rupa gestured to me: I wasn't afraid of them. Really!

"I can still call them back, if you like," I muttered. "You big, lumbering-"

Rupa grabbed my hand and resumed pulling me toward the building that housed the Tomb of Alexander.

The armed guards who usually flanked the entrance had vanished in the melee, along with the line of sightseers waiting to get in. The huge bronze doors stood wide open.

We stepped inside. The lofty foyer, opulently decorated with multi-colored marble, was eerily quiet. Our steps echoed around the deserted chamber. The hubbub outside was reduced to a distant roar. A doorway to the left opened into a stairwell, presumably the means by which Ptolemy had ascended to the balcony to address the crowd.

Rupa pulled me through a different doorway and down a long hallway lined by pillars. We descended a flight of stairs, passed through a small antechamber hewn from solid alabaster, and then stepped into a subterranean vault. The air was cool, as in an underground cellar, and smelled of chrysanthemums. The long, narrow chamber was dimly lit by hanging lamps and dominated by a gilded statue at the far end. The windswept mane of hair, the serene countenance, and the beautifully molded shoulders and limbs made the identity of the statue unmistakable. Alexander stood naked before us in all his youthful glory, towering over an open sarcophagus in which lay the mummified corpse of the conqueror, draped in glittering robes from head to foot and crowned with a golden laurel wreath. Brought by the many sightseers and strewn about the base of the sarcophagus were bouquets of fresh flowers and wreaths of dried flowers-mandrakes and mallows, irises and poppies, larkspurs and lotus lilies.

But Alexander's was not the only dead body in the room.

The light was so dim, and the images at the far end of the room were so arresting, that I failed to see the obstacle at my feet. I stepped against it and tripped, and only Rupa's strong hand and quick reflexes saved me from falling flat on my face. I staggered back and looked down at the body of an Egyptian soldier. He lay on his back, his open eyes staring at the ceiling and his fist still clutching his sword. If he had put up a fight, he had failed to wound his adversary, for there was no sign of blood on his blade. But of blood there was plenty; it formed a pool around him, flowing from a wound in his abdomen.

"Why have you brought me here, Rupa?"

He made no answer, but merely gestured for me to follow. We crossed the room and approached the golden chain that bisected it, beyond which sightseers were not permitted. From its perimeter, the sarcophagus was still several arm's lengths away, but one could clearly see the familiar profile of Alexander and the play of the dim light upon the strands of golden hair tucked beneath the golden laurel wreath. The sight gave me a shiver, and I appreciated the patience of the multitudes who waited for hours to stand in that spot for a brief moment and gaze upon eternity.

Without hesitating, Rupa ducked under the chain and strode directly to the sarcophagus. I felt a pang of superstitious dread, then did likewise. There were no guards to stop us, and the watchful stare of the conqueror's statue showed no signs of displeasure at our invasion of his sanctum.

I stood beside Rupa, and the two of us looked down at the face of Alexander the Great.

I frowned. At such close proximity, the sight of that mummified countenance was not as edifying as it had been when viewed from a few steps farther back. Some semblance of the original flesh remained, but the inner life that had given it beauty had long since fled. The skin was like worn papyrus stretched thin over the bony protrusions of the cheeks and the chin. Those responsible for admitting visitors to the tomb seemed to have gauged exactly how far back to place the golden chain so as to take full advantage of the flattering effects of soft lighting and distance.

"What do you think, Rupa? A bit the worse for wear, isn't he?"

Rupa nodded. Then a youthful voice piped up: "But he's not all that bad when you consider he's three hundred years old!"

I gave a start. "What in Hades-?"

From the dark space between the sarcophagus and the statue beyond, a face popped into view, followed by another.

"Mopsus! Androcles! I might have known. But how-?"

"We came here through the tunnel, of course," said Mopsus.

"What tunnel?"

"The secret tunnel that begins under the rose garden in the palace, runs past the turnoff to the great Library, and then takes you straight on to this place. It comes out just behind that statue. There's a little panel you slide back, some steps to go up-if you're as tall as Rupa, you have to bend a bit and duck your head when you climb out-and then you're here, in Alexander's tomb. It's one of the first passages we discovered."

"We?" said Androcles. "I was the one who found this passage."

"I said, it was one of the first passages we discovered, and we-sometimes you, sometimes me-have discovered quite a few such passages since we started exploring the palace," Mopsus insisted.

"Yes, but I'm the one who found this passage. I found it with no help from you or anybody else, and then I was generous enough to share the knowledge with you. So, properly, you should say, 'It's one of the first passages Androcles discovered.' Admit it!"

"I'll admit no such thing. You're just being stupid. Isn't he, Master?"

I sighed. "So that's what you've been up to, since we arrived at the palace? Snooping in every nook and corner, looking for trapdoors and sliding panels? You're lucky you're still alive!"

"But no one ever stopped us, Master," said Androcles. "Everyone at the palace seems to like us. Some of the guards even give us bits of sweets when they see us."

"Oh, yes!" said Mopsus. "Especially that guard who's stationed in the garden with the long reflecting pool. Sweet Tooth, we call him, because he always has the best sweets, little honey dabs thickened with flour and flavored with rosewater and rolled in crushed almonds. Delicious!"

I imagined the two of them, smiling and laughing, the picture of innocence, charming their way past every checkpoint in the palace. In time the guards had no doubt grown so used to them that they allowed them to come and go as they pleased, even allowing them to bring along their hulking, but harmless, friend, Rupa.

I shook my head. "So you've been here before?"

"Oh, yes," said Androcles. "We like to come after sunset, when the tomb is closed to visitors. They lock those doors to the foyer, and this room is completely empty."

"And dark!" added Mopsus.

"Yes, you have to bring your own lamp. But it's rather nice, being able to wander about and study the murals on the walls, and visit with Alexander the Great with no one else about. They put the lid on the sarcophagus at night, but Rupa is strong enough to lift it off. I think Alexander is in wonderful shape. I only hope that I'll look like that when I'm three hundred years old. You can almost imagine that he might sit up and start talking!"

"For better or worse," I said, "the high art of Egyptian embalming seems to have been lost in the centuries between Alexander's day and ours. They're no longer able to perform this kind of magic. Just as well. Can you imagine future generations lining up to have a look at Caesar's perfectly preserved body? But I still don't understand how you came to be here today. And where has everyone gone?"

"The three of us were in the palace," said Androcles, "minding our own business-in the rose garden, as it so happened, watching Alexander the cat chase a butterfly-when one of the courtiers ran by, telling everyone that the king was on the balcony at the Tomb of Alexander, rousing the people against the Romans. Suddenly the rose garden was empty, and there we were, sitting on the very bench with the false bottom that lifts up to let you into the secret passage. We had to come see what was happening for ourselves, and this was the quickest way. When we came out of the tunnel, this room was empty, except for a single Egyptian guard; everyone had gone outside to listen to the king. We were hiding in the shadows behind one of those big pillars, trying to think of a way to slip past the guard, when suddenly there was a commotion from the foyer, and then the king himself came rushing in. We could tell it was the king, even though he wasn't wearing his crown. I think he was heading for the secret tunnel. But there were Roman soldiers after him. The Egyptian guard tried to stand in their way. That's him over there, lying in a pool of blood. For a moment we thought the Roman soldiers were going to kill the king as well, and I think the king thought so, too. You should have seen the look on his face!"

"And heard the curses he was shouting against his sister and Caesar!" added Mopsus.

"Anyway, the soldiers fell into a tortoise formation around the king-shields up all around and overhead, and spear points poking out-and went marching out, taking the king with them. Heading back to the palace, I suppose. We stayed out of sight and followed them as far as the foyer, and then who do you think we ran into?"

"Merianis," I said.

"Exactly! And she told us that you'd been with her, but somehow you were separated, and with everything going on in the square, there was no telling what might happen to you. So we sent Rupa and Merianis to look for you, while Mopsus and I decided to stay right here, so as to be ready to take you straight back to the palace through the secret tunnel."

"Actually," said Mopsus, "we stayed here because Androcles was afraid to go out into the square. He said we might get trampled on, being so small, and it was better to send Rupa out looking for you, because Rupa is big enough to take care of himself."

"I was not afraid," insisted Androcles. "Staying here was just part of my plan, and now you can see how cleverly it all worked out."

"Indeed," I said. "But what happened to Merianis?"

I looked at Rupa, who shrugged.

"I suppose you lost her rather quickly in the crowd?"

He frowned and nodded.

"No need to look sheepish, Rupa. If finding me was her priority, Merianis would have been doing that instead of ducking into the foyer to see what was happening with Ptolemy and the Roman soldiers sent to fetch him. It was good of her to let you know that I might be in danger, but I'm not surprised she slipped off on her own instead of helping Rupa search for me. No doubt she's eager to run ahead of that Roman tortoise and report back to her mistress about everything that took place here. Curious; Merianis must not know about this tunnel leading back to the palace, or else she'd have gone that way." I frowned. "Merianis has been a good friend to us, boys-helpful, thoughtful, full of good humor-but we mustn't forget that her true allegiance lies elsewhere."

"You make her sound like a soldier, Master."

"Because I think she is one, Mopsus, no less than a man who carries a sword and shield."

"She'd never hurt you, Master!" said Androcles.

"I'm sure she won't-as long as I don't run afoul of her mistress. What a joke the gods have played on me this time! I've managed to survive one bloody civil war, only to find myself dropped into the midst of another, about which I care nothing. But from my experience of these conflicts, I know that even the most uncommitted bystander is seldom allowed to remain neutral. The palace is a battleground. Cleopatra and Ptolemy are rival generals, marshaling their forces. Caesar is the strategic stronghold they're both eager to claim; all other battles will count for nothing if one or the other can win over Caesar and the Roman might behind him."

"But, Master, you should have heard the curses the king was screaming against Caesar when the soldiers took him away!" said Androcles. "The king must hate Caesar with all his might."

"I suspect the exact opposite is true. The king may be a Ptolemy to his fingertips, with a regal bearing and a certainty of his own divine place in the world; but he's still a boy not in control of his emotions. When he railed against Caesar, he sounded less like a general rallying his troops, and more like a spurned suitor. As for Caesar, he'd like very much for the siblings to patch up their differences and get on with the business of ruling Egypt and repaying their debts to Rome; then he could congratulate himself on settling the Egyptian Question and go wrap up the loose ends left over from his own civil war. But neither the king nor the queen may be willing to settle for half of Egypt-or half of Caesar. Caesar may finally have to choose one over the other. Before that happens, we may all be forced to takes sides, whether we want to or-"

All four of us abruptly turned toward the alabaster antechamber that led up to the foyer, from whence came the sounds of footsteps, a scuffle, and loud shouting.

"Looters?" said Mopsus.

"Soldiers?" said Androcles.

"Or mere sightseers?" I suggested. "In any case, I think it's time for us to head back to the palace. Androcles, show me the passageway."

"Certainly, Master. Step around to the back of the statue."

I gazed into a black void at the foot of the statue. "Is there no light at all in the passage? No air?"

"The first part is rather dark," said Androcles, "but farther on there are grates and vents that let in little patches of light and puffs of fresh air. Here, I'll go first, and lead you by the hand. Mopsus can follow. Rupa can come last and close the panel behind us; it's rather heavy. Just be careful, Master, not to hit…"

"Ouch!"

"… your head!"