Page 110 of Cleopatra

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* Although I will have it known that not all historians degraded me so. The renowned traveller Al-Masudi of Baghdad, whose writings I have always favoured, wrote eloquently of my skills as a scholar and a sage. It is a reminder that not all roads lead to Rome. Let it not be the centre of your history, for propaganda is a tool favoured by the West.

Chapter Twenty-Two

41 BCE

harmion and I journeyed to Tarsus, leaving Caesarion in Egypt. Though I was reluctant to have him out of my sight, I knew he’d be safer at home.

It was my first time leaving Egypt since I had fled back there from Rome after Caesar’s death, and I found myself invigorated by the tour. My clothing and jewellery had been refreshed, a new set of dresses dyed and stitched for the occasion.

“More turquoise?” Charmion had said as we prepared for the voyage.

“Yes. Just a little more, around the collar.”

“It will be too heavy to wear.”

“I seek beauty, not comfort.”

“It is good to see you like this,” she said, once the seamstress had taken the dress away for adjustments.

“Like what?” I knew what she meant, but I wanted to know how it appeared from the outside. For me, I felt apprehensive, as though I was being presented to the court for the first time. I was not old, twenty-eight only, but I had been weary too long.

“You are set alight again,” she said.

Her words brought a smile to my lips, and I pressed it to her scarred cheek, then held her close. “Yes, though I admit the fire in me is gilded.”

She laughed. “More jewellery, then?”

“Yes. Marcus calls to me, and he will know what it is to conjure a god.”

We crushed henna leaves and dyed my lips a dark red. We darkened the tips of my fingers, too, before interlacing them with gold chains and rings. I sent for the longest hair in Egypt and had the strands woven into an intricate wig that cascaded to my knees. Each braid was threaded with carnelians and jasper.

There was no part of me that I did not refine. I even had new sandals made from hippopotamus leather, soft and luxurious.

Only when I felt like the god I was did I set sail for Tarsus.

“It is very beautiful here,” Charmion said as we traversed the Cydnus river. Awestruck farmers flocked to the riverbank, watching us pass.

We cut an unusual sight against the lush green landscape. The silver oars of the ship flashed like fish in the shallows. Purple silk, a recent gift from Serica, had been used to adorn the canopies, and they fluttered like petals in the wind. I had made a habit of burning myrrh to remind me of Caesar, and the incense swirled around the boat like wisps of morning mist.

Some of your painters have tried to capture the occasion. But paint is a poor medium for gold and jewels. I have seen the garments and colours they have reimagined, but they have captured less than the essence of how it was.

I was a god, and I looked like one. No canvas can recreate it.

The crowds grew the closer we got to the city. Children ran alongside the ship to try and keep up, their laughter making me pine for Caesarion.

I smiled regally at them from beneath my vulture crown, the gilded wings heavy on my ears. Charmion had been right about the weight of the mantle; it brought a stiffness to my movements, the collar covering my chest and neck entirely.

Finally, we passed through the stone archway that marked the port of Tarsus. The city sprawled out ahead of us. Unlike Alexandria and Rome, Tarsus blended into the landscape rather than dominating it. The buildings were built of stone and white clay from the surrounding fields. And though the city was walled, it felt more open than any other I had been in, and I could see straight through to the heart of it; the square boasted a stone fountain, and the streets around it were lined with palms pregnant with dates.

We moored east of the harbour and I retreated to my chambers, much to the sadness of the cheering crowds.

“Antonius has sent an invitation to dine with him this evening,” Faunus said. He was much aged since we had first met, and I continued to be grateful for his counsel. Of all the things Caesar had gifted me, Faunus’s mind was the most valuable.

I demurred with a smile. “No, he has sought to summon me enough times. Let us ignore him.”

The next day Antonius sent the same command: Dine with me in the city.