CHAPTER XL

XL

At the end of Sextilis, my father told me that you were staying outside the Pomerium,

making arrangements for your triumphus, and that rumours had it that you had the

intention of writing your will.

– Caesar seems to be in haste for it. I think he’s going too fast….

I suddenly thought the dark rings around his eyes had gone deeper. He did not add

anything else. It was quite obvious that he was sharing my fears. He did not even

suggest that I go beyond the Pomerium to visit you. I understood his silence. He had

the duty of taking your will to the Vestals so that they may keep it until the day of…

The celebration of your victory over the last Pompeian resistance was held a few days

after Kalendae Octobris . Perhaps due to the fact that I had somehow accepted my

 

failure and also because of what I had learnt about your poor health, I did not feel that

tearing unease which had taken hold of me that daybreak long ago, when your triumph

over Vercingetorix was being celebrated. Though the sun had just risen, the day was

so humid and hot that I could have grown sick, as usual. Sitting on the benches that

had been set for your relatives in the Forum, next to Rostra, I had the feeling that all

the atmosphere around was more funeral-like than according to what could expected of

a real triumphus, which should have been cheered by a frenzied crowd. Obviously, it

 

could not be such a brilliant parade, as there were no war booties to display since

sacking had been forbidden. You had not even taken the valuable treasure of the

temple of Melkart-Herakles. Maybe its sacred importance and all the memories it

brought into your mind had dissuaded you from doing that. The only thing Roman could

witness was the display of huge pictures, the first of which depicted your solitary attack

on Pompeian troops, just sheltered by a borrowed shield. The silence inspired by this

sight was immediately broken by a wave of loud murmuring, caused by the exhibition of

Gnaeus Pompeius’ head in the Forum of Hispalis. That murmuring increased as the

parade went on, showing the deaths of Labienus and so many other Romans, whose

friends and relatives were then watching what was meant to be the celebration of your

glory …and the presence that was coming nearer and nearer, all clad in purple and

crimson –starry mantle, gold-embroidered tunic –carried along on that golden chariot,

with Jupiter’s crown over that laurel-wreathed head… Some convulsing shiver made

me loose consciousness of my body solidity… Hadn’t I really seen you, all covered in

blood springing out of your face, chest, belly and legs? Could it have been that

someone–perhaps Atia –had held me tight so as to stop me from rushing ahead to hold

you in my arms? When I woke up, I saw myself lying in my cubiculum with Atia next to

my lectus. She told me you were in the public dinner that you had planned to have in

order to involve common Romans in your triumphus and to which I would be unable to

attend due to my frail health.

–Luckily, I managed to grab you before you might fall off the benches. Don’t worry,

nobody paid attention to it. Everybody had their eyes on the incident that happened in

front of the Tribunes’ place. It means that one of them refused to stand up as the

 

imperator was riding past. Consequently, Caesar angrily rebuked him. To speak the

truth, Calpurnia, your husband must be strong, very strong and also severe to Rome.

Unlike what everybody may believe, Republican resistance is still deeply rooted here

…. I hope you won’t mind my returning to the dinner, will you? If he doesn’t see you

around, he will be worried. Therefore, I will tell him there’s nothing to care about.

Yes, sure, there’s nothing to care about. No, I don’t think she…the cobra…might have

attended the banquet .How on earth could you have had the idea of planning such an

extravagance which had already been criticised during the first celebration of your

 

triumphi? .What could you expect to get from it? In spite of all those thoughts, I knew I

had to get ready to face your imminent arrival, as this time our reunion would not be

like so many others before. The threat of your…mental disturbance? obsession?... was

standing in front of me, as solid as your sudden appearance, preceded by the silence

of your cautious feet…. No, that shadow of blood, madness and dead-like paleness

was no more there… Only your sad, tender, almost ravishing smile and your intense

transparent look

–My….

I could not understand the rest of the sentence. Was your voice so whispering or

maybe blurred by some tears that slightly damped my neck? Was this really you, my

lord….? Perhaps was this a spectre that was somehow biding me your farewell since

you might feel powerless to do it by yourself? I even came to believe this during the

rest of the night, when you did no more than lying like that, your arms around me,

uselessly seeking for that force that could shelter you from that other which was

inexorably unbalancing your mind, shattering your health, determined to throw you into

the abyss…in exchange for you own divinity. Should this have happened long before, I

would have responded to your embrace, cradling you on my breasts to bring you some

comfort… But that night I felt blocked, clumsy, all disabled by that subtle misty power

coming from you and that I could feel impregnating my skin pores….what could this

panic which had got of me be but the same which I certainly knew well, despite what

anybody else could think, the same fear which had been haunting and disturbing your

mind? Why should I think that she might also feel the same thing as me, as soon as

you would find a chance of making his way beyond the Tiber once again? Even then, I

still hoped that her powerlessness would clear up your thoughts, encouraging you to  

restore that old bond to me, disabled after so many years of distance. Why could I still

feel so willing to dream….?

When I woke up, it was quite early in the morning. You were still asleep, almost

lifeless-looking. I would have stayed there forever, embracing you, listening to your

warm heartbeat through your back…Yes, I quite knew this might be the last time I

could have you like this, so private and vulnerable… I remained drowsily lying on that

wet back, slightly trembling, listening to the flock of birds which were waking up on the

 

cypresses of the peristylium…Again that silence. Perhaps the small vestals were

awaiting your visit, worried because you had not greeted them immediately after your
 

arrival. What would happen if …their Pontifex decided to settle down in Alexandria?

Would you delegate your office in anyone else? Would I be forced to share my life here
 

at Domus Publica with another family? Or would I simply be sent out of this place and

atmosphere which, after so many years, have become a part of my own nature, even
 

more than Calpurnius Piso’s domus? The cold trembling came back to my fibres,

causing me to fear it could be transmitted into your own flesh, which I felt slightly

arouse, almost imperceptibly… until your weight fell on my belly, panting, boiling,

invading me with your breath, which, in the midst of your sleepiness, might be

searching for another respiration, alien to mine, no doubt… That absent mouth strove

to possess my shoulders whereas, deep down inside my womb, a strange force that I

was trying to identify was desperately ascending, struggling to scare away that

hovering spectre-like mist which threatened to annihilate you. … No, this time it was

not that blind deliverance from the other nights. I somehow felt my body impregnated

with some kind of fear-drenched, dead-like viscosity… Had I given myself to a spectre’s

arms?

 Your body heavily fell on one side of the lectus, maybe disappointed for not having

been able to find that salvation you yearned for within my body….. 

CHAPTER XXXVIII

XXXVIII

Yes... What could Kornel....Cornelius.....have made of the atmosphere surrounding the

Egyptian queen…That air lingering about her person....her magnetism, thanks either to

her ancestry or to a lifetime’s learning? While reading the last lines of his letter, I

obviously remembered you wild eyes recognizing me when my inner force, flowing

towards that cubiculum under those immense purple gold-embroidered sails, caught

you by surprise while lying merged into that female energy, so beyond any other

common woman’s.

–Do not think queen Cleopatra is a supernatural woman, just as she makes

Alexandrians believe....

My father, aware of that situation that was hanging over all of us, had decided to show

himself more attentive to me. Consequently, his visits had increased.

–In fact, she only follows the tradition of previous Cleopatrae Ptolomeae. Like all that

dynasty, they are ambitious unscrupulous beings whole cruelty is utterly alien to

Roman virtues...Something very frequent in oriental monarchies. Just remember

Mitridates, the king who killed his own mother. It is curious meaningful, the active role

played by women in those lands. Nothing to do with our noble matrons. Though you

know that in Tyrrhenian society not only aristocrats but also all kinds of women did not

hesitate to show themselves banqueting with men, something that Greeks would have

never consented on. In fact, it is due to all that heritage from long-lost Sybaris, whose

influence has been clearly seen in Rome for the last fifty years, no matter what

Philodemus may think on this subject. I wonder if his firm defence of the return of

Roman monarchy will stagger if he happens to consider the risks of a lineage of kings

which , in the long term, may bring us all that corruption and lack of human sensitivity

you can see here ... Anyway, these Epicureans are as idealistic as Zeno’s followers

themselves.

I saw that Lucius Calpurnius was trying to calm me, making me believe that Cleopatra

was no exceptional being. At most, she was just different from most Roman women.

But he was also aware that, within that creature, there was a being she wholly knew

and exploited with breathtaking cleverness. Could this all come from the teachings of

Alexandrian masters, those who had inherited that old knowledge of which Kornel

constantly spoke? Or might it be some kind of drive which is simply human beat within

his blood? No, Kornel had clearly seen this idea had no sense. Reincarnated Isis’

vulnerability was going to manifest itself very soon...

–It seems that she has considerably reduced her receptions....

It was Cornelia who informed Marcia and I about it. Portia, as you can imagine, was

enjoying her brand-new marriage.

–Nobody from her environment has leaked any information, that’s obvious. I think it all

happened after Kornel’s departure. Some of my contacts had the chance to see her,

since she is still considered a valuable mediator between Caesar and her Roman

acquaintances. They told me that all this kind of dazzling majesty about her seemed to

have faded and her efforts to keep...that sort of mesmerizing magic which enabled her

to look so goddess-like had vanished away.

I thought I could read some sort of conspiratorial sparkle in those eyes, so like Kornel’s.

Nevertheless, I knew Cleopatra’s state could probably only be transitory.  However,

 

Kornel’s words still vibrated inside me ... “The task you started…I did not know you

were so capable of developing that power”. For the first time in my life, someone was

 

confiding me that I might have some kind of budding power which was alien to any kind

of human being.... once again, I saw this well-defined in front of me, the idea that I had

been trained with a given purpose. Would it be perhaps a reward to so many years’

fertile but dignified isolation? Might this hypothetical glory of mine be focused on

annulling the magic of that divine incarnation? That thought made me tremble...could it

be some kind of sacrilege? Perhaps Kornel has been right to say that the

synchronisation of her own pregnancy and the rising level of the Nile was just a mere

coincidence. Nevertheless, all that power beyond what is human could be the outcome

of so many generations of women who had been forced to developed their cunning and

ruthlessness in order to survive, Yes, Kornel had a deep knowledge of all these ways

 

of life, so it was obvious that he wouldn’t have let himself be mesmerized by all that

brightness transcending the flash of purest gold, emeralds, rubies and sapphires all

over herself...

Which would be the following step to take? No doubt this time I had to act on my own.

... Blodwynnn.... How would the queen of Egypt have faced the presence of that wise

woman? I imagine she must have already informed about the existence of this race of

women, especially gifted with this wisdom lying beyond what can be grasped by

everyday’s eyes. Maybe her knowledge about them came from what you could have

told her during that cruising along the sacred river or at that mansion on the other side

of the Tiber, that house I had never been allowed to visit. Likewise, there would never

be a further step onwards for me. Who knows if my true lot is this, to go on waiting, as

it had always been? It seemed to have become a part of my nature....What for?

What for....?That night I decided to resume my previous habit of anointing my whole

body, including each of its corners and curves, with that ointment which I kept

treasured inside my cubiculum keeping my attention suspended while ritually

massaging it through my skin, inebriating it all with my own ambition merged into the

incense, myrrh and the essences that Kornel once had once told me, melting the

 

tightened skin on my thighs and waist with my own thoughts and anxieties...Sibyl...light

me up.... enlighten me...What must I do?

Several days later, after having stimulated my mind, skin pores and breath with those

 

scents I secretly kept, I sent a message to the domus on the other side of the river,

 

requesting for a meeting. Maybe not even Cleopatra herself had ever expected it, after

such a flaunting display of what she knew I could not compete with. She did not

 

welcome me inside the domus itself –maybe due to the fact she could feel

 

embarrassed by having her lover’s legitimate wife invading the privacy that both of you

were sharing together. We met up in those famous gardens. Forests, to be true. Thick

pinewoods were mixed with banana trees, small clusters of palm groves, cypresses,

rosebushes...All of it so carefully watered and nourished that it seemed alien to Rome’s

lifeless heat waves. I almost thought to see Aurelia’s eternal intangible hand in the

choice of plants and trees and the deep care with which all that landscape was being

maintained. I felt somehow aroused by her memory. What would she have made of this

story of yours? Even though she was truly fond of me, she knew she would not be able

to change either the course of the events or your own nature. The following phase of

this encounter was going to be particularly dangerous: I was aware I had to pick out

each word most carefully since my Greek was not fluent at all. In order to compensate

this limitation, I had chosen a tunic with several layers of mauve and indigo gauze,

which I wore on a thick linen shirt because of the chilly weather, though this was a

 

sunny day. It was very kind and delicate of her to cover me with a glossy fur overcoat,

perhaps quite similar to that she might be wearing under that huge mantle of gold

thread, under which you could see many pectorals of pearl, ruby, emerald, turquoise,

acquamarine, topaz... Quite like her headgear, a sort of wig consisting on bead strings

of tiny gems –I think I could count up to twelve kinds of them!. It totally masked her real

hair and forehead but let me watch that large black henna design framing her eyes,

whose lids had been dyed in gold, like her prominent lips, which heightened the olive

 

skin of that “youthful small mummy-like body” which did not succeed in luring Kornel.

 

She must have noticed the odorous waves coming from the graceful flight of my mauve

and deep blue attire, as bright as those amethysts, beryl and turquoise I had chosen for

my arms and neck and my sapphire rings, acquamarine earrings and that amethyst

comb holding my curls, which had been neatly done and perfumed with the same

ointment whose scent impregnated my tunic. No, it was obvious that my face was the

 

same as that one my serfs and friends could see every day at Domus Publica, away

 

from that bedazzlement Cleopatra’s make up would raise around her... I watched that

twinkling look which could alternative be greenish, hazel-coloured or even golden,

under her black, fan-like eyelashes, which were thick as a man’s. Her cold eyes had

 

opened wide, as if trying to grasp something ethereal about myself which neither of us

would have been able to define. Don’t Egyptians have a sort of cat-shaped deity? No,

her gaze was more like that of a wild cat, voracious, selfishly defending her domains.

 

Rather than selfish, egoistic....Kornel’s words had been really lucid. “A small

 

meaningless being who knows that she must be crudely merciless so as not to be the

 

 

most vulnerable being of her species....” Perhaps, as it had previously happened to

 

him, had she noticed that i was also aware of her own limitations? My inner self slightly

quivered...No, by no means could I unveil my uneasiness to her, whose skilfully

concealed aggressiveness had got suddenly imprisoned.....That voice with numberless

musical shades had got suspended amidst the slow conversation we had on polite

issues , a mere excuse to justify the return of that...undeserved privilege-like visit she

had once paid me. Perhaps that was the impression she wanted to give me on our first

 

meeting, the reason why that incarnated Isis should have decided to go to Domus

Publica in order to let herself be seen in all her divine-like glory by that little budding

 

rival that and thus justify her doing something as merciless as showing off the fruit of

your shared fertility in front of a poor barren womb... Gods... Was this some kind of

unknown mischievous effect that the scent of my ointment might be inflicting on me?

That instrument, as flexible as Blodwynn’s own harp, had started to utter simple

syllables instead of words... Who knows if this could be something similar to what was

 

told about sibyls, who, under the effects of subterranean emanations, would fall in a

trance which drove them to utter brief sounds that, however, were full of meaning

related to future events. Her breath was beginning to accelerate. She knew it was time

to make us see she felt really tired and, consequently, for us to leave... and express

our wish of a future meeting. While I was walking out of those groves which nowadays

belong to Roman people , my lord, I felt that the yearning to guess what she might

have discovered about me was beginning to inebriate me as much as those mixed

perfumes in my skin...No, I know I’ll never find it out. But.....can’t I boast about having

aroused some kind of restlessness in that being, who, though fragile and limited,

possessed both mind and will which could become unexpectedly... deadly? –Once

again, Kornel’s words echoed within my thoughts –for anyone who didn’t have ...her

approval or yours.