Page 149 of Cleopatra

Once the sun had risen, I led what remained of my navy to the eastern waters, to await an opening in Octavian’s fleet.

Up ahead were the thirty vessels we had released as sacrifice to allow for our escape.

I watched as the first Egyptian ship made it through the blockade, ramming into the Roman navy. Fire arrows rained down upon it, setting the deck alight.

I forced myself to look as the flames licked up the sides of the boat. My eyes stung as the fire burned flesh, tears falling once the ship had sunk.

Ten Roman ships fell before there was sufficient space to move my fleet through the blockade. And ten more of mine.

Thousands died that day.

Would I do it again?

Yes.

I did not look back once we had sailed through the gulf. I did not check to see if Antonius followed. My eyes were on Egypt. And my country called to me, like no man ever had.

Skip Notes

* I urge you to reach for your pen and mark the years that the Roman Empire lived and died. Then take your pen and walk ten, fifteen paces from the paper. Mark the ground and look back to the dots on your page. That is the legacy Pharaonic Egypt left. Millennia versus five centuries.

Chapter Twenty-Nine

30 BCE

have never felt relief like I did when I had the Lighthouse of Alexandria in my sights.

I am home again.

A flock of ibis flew overhead, one relieving itself on the ground in front of me. I sprang back, then laughed. “Arsinoe mocks me still.”

As we docked in Antirhodos I saw my children gathered at the end of the pier. I did not want to tell them the news I brought: that we had lost the battle, and the war was yet to come.

I held them close to my chest, even Caesarion, who tried to pull away.

“Mama, where is Antonius?” he asked once I had taken my fill of his closeness.

“He goes to Cyrene to bring back more soldiers.”

“The war is not won?” he said, a flicker of fear in his eyes. His nerves had never quite recovered from the assassin’s attack.

“No, Octavian will be swift on the wind. We must ready the city.”

Caesarion nodded grimly, then without my prompting called the commanders of the remaining fleet to the throne room.

“He has become a capable king.”

I turned to her voice and opened my arms.

Charmion came to me, smiling. “I did not enjoy our time apart,” she said into my shoulder.

“Neither did I.”

“War is to come to Egypt after all?”

“Yes.” My voice was tight with unreleased emotion, but I did not let Charmion draw out my tears.

She pushed me to arm’s length and scrutinised me.