Caesar nodded. "Strange, how Cornelia's alabaster vial and Pompey's amphora of Falernian wine both seemed to take on a malevolent life of their own, even after their owners abandoned them. Dead men do bite, and so do their widows!"

"You accept my version of events, Consul?"

"It satisfies my curiosity, Gordianus. But it does not satisfy my needs."

"Your needs?"

"I came to Egypt to settle affairs here to my own advantage, and to the advantage of Rome, which amounts to the same thing. Debts must be repaid; for that to happen, the harvests must be gathered and taxes collected; for that to happen, Egypt must have peace. Either the king and queen must be reconciled, or one must be eliminated and the other put upon the throne-and whoever occupies the throne must be a steadfast ally of Rome. Through all that's happened, I've remained committed to carrying out the will of the Piper, namely that both siblings should rule jointly. What occurred on Antirrhodus was unfortunate; but as you yourself assert, the poisoning was accidental, and the queen's response, though regrettable, was not premeditated. To press the queen for answers, to badger her with questions as if she had plotted in some criminal fashion against my person, does not serve the greater purpose-"

"But she did plot against you, Consul! Not once, but twice! First, when she sought to falsely incriminate Meto-all the more terrible, if you ask me, precisely because it was spontaneous-and again, only moments ago, when she contrived, with complete premeditation, to have her subjects lie to you, even to die, in order to conceal the first deceit!"

"Would you have me call the queen a liar to her face?"

"I would have you call things what they are!"

"Ah, but there we see where you fail to grasp the situation, Gordianus. You possess knowledge, but you lack understanding. Through these deceits, the queen sought to advance herself, not to endanger me. That is a crucial point, Gordianus, and one that you fail to apprehend. This is a political matter; it has to do with the appearance of things. When the queen was pressed to supply a response that would satisfy appearances, she did precisely that."

"At the expense of two lives! The queen is a monster. To force those two to lie to protect her, and then to stand by and watch as they killed themselves, so that she might save face-"

"So that I might save face as well, Gordianus. Do you really believe she forced them to do anything? Quite the contrary, I should think; what they did, they did willingly, even eagerly. What extraordinary devotion! If only I could cultivate such depths of love and loyalty! Men have died for me, yes, but not in the way those two died for their queen. They truly believed her to be a goddess, with the power to grant them everlasting life. Amazing!" There was a note of envy in his wonderment. Would a Roman king ever be able to evoke such total devotion and blind self-sacrifice? I found the notion repellent, but Caesar seemed fascinated by the possibility.

He strode to the window and gazed at the vista that stretched to the distant Nile. "And yet…" I heard a note of resignation in his voice. I saw his shoulders sag. "You say that she's bewitched me, Gordianus, and I fear you may be right. I almost believe myself that she's a goddess, if only because she makes me feel like a god. I'm a man of fifty-two, Gordianus. Cleopatra makes me feel like a boy. I've conquered the world, and I feel weary; she offers me a fresh world to conquer, and makes me young again. She offers more than the world; she offers everlasting life. I'm fifty-two, and I've never produced an heir. Cleopatra has promised to give me a son. Can you imagine? A son to rule over not only Egypt, but Rome as well! Together we might found a dynasty to rule the whole world, forever."

I shook my head. Caesar, looking out the window, did not see my reaction, but must have sensed it.

"I suppose," he said, "this is precisely the sort of talk that turned Meto so adamantly against the queen and her influence on me. Do I sound like some deluded Eastern despot? Have I crossed the world, eluding every trap and besting every enemy, only to lose my bearings here in Egypt, to a twenty-one-year-old girl?"

"You say she promises you the world, Consul; yet she lies as easily as she breathes. You say she promises you a son; yet even if she were to announce that she was carrying your child, how could you be certain-"

He raised a hand. "Enough! Some thoughts are better left unspoken."

He clasped his hands behind his back and silently gazed out the window for such a long time that he seemed to have forgotten my presence, until finally he spoke again. The tenor of his voice had changed in some subtle way; in the silent interim, he had come to some decision regarding the queen.

But first he would deal with another matter. He cleared his throat. "I want you to know, Gordianus, that I would never have executed Meto."

"But you told me-" "I told you what I deemed necessary to tell you, in order to gain the desired result." He turned to face me. "Did the immediate threat to Meto not spur you to find the truth about the poisoned amphora?"

"Perhaps. But still-"

"I know men, Gordianus. If any skill has brought me to the place I occupy today, it's my ability to judge the character and capacity of the men around me. Some men respond to encouragement, some to threats, some to questions about their honor. The trick lies in perceiving the best way to inspire each man to do his utmost. I think I know you, Gordianus, better than you realize. The proof, as always, lies in the result."

I shook my head. "Then you never believed Meto was guilty?"

"Did I say that, Gordianus? I believe I said something slightly different. But the important thing is that Meto shall be freed at once and restored to my side."

"As if nothing had happened?"

"I've learned to forgive my foes, Gordianus. Some of them have even learned to forgive me. Should it not be easier for two friends to forgive one another?"

I gritted my teeth. "You posit a false syllogism, Consul."

"How so?"

"You need to be forgiven; Meto has done nothing for which he needs forgiveness."

"Oh, really? How good finally to hear you say that, Gordianus! Your son is blameless after all."

"I meant-"

"I know what you meant. But the choice of how to proceed beyond this… unfortunate breach of trust… lies with Meto, I think, and not with you. Is your son free to make his own decisions, or will you continue to look over his shoulder and judge him at every turn, holding him hostage to your disapproval? Have my actions toward Meto been any more destructive than your own, when you disowned him? If that breach could be healed, then can this one not be healed as well?"

How deftly Caesar had turned the tables on me, elevating his own decisions above argument while challenging my paternal authority and moral judgment! I chafed at his insinuation, but I could not summon a rebuttal. Either Meto was his own man, or he was not; and if he was, then I had to acknowledge once and for all that he had moved beyond my power to shape his opinions and desires. Would he rush back to Caesar's side, his imperator's "unfortunate breach of trust" forgiven and forgotten? Or had the worm of doubt insinuated itself permanently into Meto's thoughts, and would he never again be able to render to Caesar the loving allegiance the man once had commanded of him? Caesar was right: The choice belonged to Meto, not to me.

But it seemed there was another, more immediate choice at hand, to be made by Caesar. He turned from me and summoned the guard at the door, to whom he issued an instruction in a voice too low for me to hear. He began to pace the room, staring at his reflection in the highly polished marble floor, apparently oblivious of me. Like many of the powerful men I had known, he possessed the ability to move from one preoccupation to another without transition, focusing his entire energies on the problem immediately before him. He had dealt with and was done with me, and though I might linger in his physical presence, for all practical purposes I had already vanished.