Pharaoh by Karen Essex Page A

inspiring fear in men. Roman soldiers thought
     they held dominion over everything, including the sowing of fear in the hearts of others. “They may have to share their domain
     with us,” she said, hoping her son already had a sense of humor, of irony, that would put him in good stead with his father.
     “And do not forget, Alexander’s detractors said the same awful things about him that they say of your father, that he was
     mad for power and that he ruled Fortune. Those were the jealous Greeks, the Spartans and Athenians who had to abdicate their
     power to the greater man. Those on the decline always criticize those on the rise.” She promised to take him to Alexander’s
     tomb and get his blessing as soon as he was old enough to be taken out of the palace. She hoped his little spirit was ready
     to take on the weight of his earthly mission.
If the philosopher is correct, and all knowledge is but remembering what the soul already knows, then you must come into this
     life with full memory of all that has gone before you.
    She calmed herself this way, communicating with her son so easily that she was certain his soul was present with her in the
     room, until finally, her aloneness and her fears were lifted. She thought that she might be a fine mother, one with the power
     to inspire greatness in her offspring, for what else might be the purpose of a queen who out of necessity would pass along
     her throne? She patted her stomach until she believed she had calmed the child as well as herself, and then she drifted off
     to sleep as the vaporous light of dawn floated lazily into the room.
    Days later, Caesar burst into their chamber with the news that her brother was drowned, Ganymedes dead, and her sister in
     chains. Caesar had outfoxed Ganymedes, of course. He had made a great show of sailing out of the city with his legions to
     join Mithridates. He did meet up with the reinforcements, but in the middle of the night, when the Egyptian army was deep
     in slumber, they sneaked back through the western gate, taking them by surprise and easily vanquishing them.
    Caesar smiled more broadly than ever before. Kleopatra’s first thought was not
thank the gods,
but rather,
now I shall owe Caesar everything.
    Unless the gift of a son was equal in his mind to the gift of a throne.

    Arsinoe looked at her brother’s death mask and felt nothing. The artist had improved his features, making him appear a bit
     thinner and more secure than he had ever looked in his short lifetime; nonetheless, there was nothing to miss in that round
     and vapid face. Never again would she have to see the ridiculous expressions he made as he reached for his pathetic moment
     of ecstasy. The awful contortions of an already disgusting face. The moaning and groaning as he struggled with something inside
     himself, or so it seemed, struggled against his own horrible pleasure. And then the inevitable mess at the end. She would
     never have to do that again, which was the thought she had held firmly in her mind as she and Ganymedes had forced her brother
     and his men into the boat that would take them on the long trip down the Nile; that was, if they made it, what with human
     cargo twice the weight the vessel could support. Either way they would have perished-by the hands of the Egyptians who would
     be furious at the king who had capitulated to the Romans, or by nature herself as she dragged them to the river bottom.
    There was nothing here to mourn, and yet the Roman soldiers kept looking at Arsinoe as if she was supposed to have a certain
     kind of reaction. She had cried her tears over the serene death mask of Ganymedes, who had been executed by the Romans for
     political expediency. Arsinoe had begged for his life to the Roman commander, but was told that the eunuch had too many militaristic
     ambitions to be spared. She knew that he was being killed merely because he had almost outsmarted JuliusCaesar, and undoubtedly the crafty old Roman could