Page 30 of Cleopatra

Though Archibios had been reluctant to be complicit in the ruse, I was his pharaoh and my word was the gods’.

“Who is it, Nilah?” Another person spoke from the bowels of the homestead. It was followed by a wet cough.

“May I?” I asked Nilah.

“Please, come, I do not think he has long.”

I strode into the darkness from where the man’s voice had called out.

The home wasn’t large, smaller than some of my antechambers, but it was tightly packed with their belongings. A table covered in a half-woven rug filled the centre of the room, and spools of dyed thread littered the floor. I picked my way through piles of linen until I came to a stop by the straw mattress in the corner.

My eyes adjusted to the low light and I took in my patient. He was perhaps forty-five years old, with wiry hair streaked grey. His skin was glazed with sweat, and his dark eyes were sunk deep into his skull. They were fluttering closed.

“What is his name?” I asked Nilah.

“Apollodorus.”

“Apollodorus, my name is Selene, and I am here to help,” I said calmly but firmly. Apollodorus’s lips opened as if to reply, before closing again, along with his eyes.

Nilah whimpered beside me.

I pulled back the collar of his shirt and pressed the back of my hand to his chest. “He has a fever,” I murmured. “How long has he been like this?”

She shook her head, unsure.

“I’ll need to make a poultice.” I reached into my pocket and removed a tincture of brewed willow bark. “May I use a scrap of your linen?”

“Yes. The material is useless unless he recovers anyway.” Nilah tore a slip of material from a sheet and handed it to me.

I set to work lacing it with the potion, before pressing it to his forehead.

“He is a weaver?” I asked.

“Yes, carpets and clothing. The finest in all of Alexandria.” Nilah’s chest swelled with pride before her gaze landed on her husband once more and she collapsed inwards.

“They do look very fine,” I said gently.

I looked back to my patient. I could feel the heat of his skin through the linen. The poultice would not be enough.

I reached for the chain around my neck and removed the dagger from its leather sheath.

“Are you going to purge his blood?” Nilah asked hopefully.

“No.” I was yet to be convinced that bloodletting, though favoured by the priests, had any significant impact on the health of the body. I reached into my pocket and removed a few wormwood leaves, using the dagger to slice them into smaller strips.

“I’m going to place these on his tongue. You will need to watch him to make sure he does not choke.” I prised open Apollodorus’s mouth and inserted a few strips of the leaf, before handing the rest to Nilah. “Replace the leaves when the sun rises.”

Nilah’s fingers closed around the leaves as if they were as precious as gold. “Will he survive?”

“I believe he will. As soon as he wakes, ensure he drinks and eats when he is able.”

Nilah’s eyes flooded with tears. “Thank you.”

Her gratitude warmed me and I felt my own eyes heat.

If I was not Pharaoh, I would not have to skulk in the darkness to practise my craft. I could spend my days healing Egypt. My thoughts were bitter, for I knew I was destined to heal Egypt in other ways.

I must have scowled, for Nilah’s smile slipped in concern.