if Pompey had done this very same thing just days before.
Sitting on his throne on his royal barge surrounded by his advisors the fourteen year old King Ptolemy XIII watched the Roman visitors draw closer. He’d been most interested in watching the elegant Caesar as he’d descended to the boat.
“I think we should make peace with this man,” he said to the heavily armoured man standing to his left, General Achillas.
“The Romans are not to be trusted sire.”
“Once I have given him what he wants he will leave.”
“I hope so my King.”
Ptolemy watched for a further minute.
“I do not think I want this man to be my enemy. Bring forward the gift. I will offer it myself.”
“As you wish sire.”
Once on the deck of the royal barge the four Roman Cornicens stood in a line and blew a fanfare as Julius Caesar came on deck. He waited until they finished and the Cornicens were lowered and all on deck waited as the Egyptian Shenebs, a long trumpet, gave their fanfare.
Caesar nodded at his musicians, smiling, then he looked at the Egyptian royal party and his face became serious. He bade his Generals to wait where they were then stepped towards the royal dais alone. Then his smile returned. He focused on the youth on the throne.
“King Ptolemy I presume.”
The boy, in his enthusiasm, nodded. Caesar expected him to rise and greet Rome’s greatest general as an equal but the boy remained seated.
“Hail King Ptolemy, Theos Philopater, divine son of the gods, ruler of the lands of upper and lower Egypt, chosen of Ptah, to carry out the rule of Re, the living image of Amun.”
Caesar waited until the elegant, effeminate, man had finished.
“That was quite an introduction….” he paused for the other man to give his name.
“Pothinus. Lord chancellor and advisor to King Ptolemy.”
“Very well. And I am Gaius Julius Caesar, Aedile, Praetor, Consul, Dictator, Triumvir and Pontifex Maximus and descendent of Venus.”
He looked at the rest of the royal party.
“And where is Cleopatra?” he asked, already knowing the answer.
None of the royal entourage answered him. Now he focused on Ptolemy again. His face deadly serious.
“Where is your sister?”
Caesar was met with stony silence. He began pacing up and down as Generals do, his hands firmly clasped behind his back. He had already noted that while he stood in the direct sun the Alexandrians stood in the shade.
“As I recall one of the conditions of your father being returned to his throne was that you rule jointly. Yet news reached me in Rome that she is in exile. Could you kindly explain please.”
Pothinus was livid. He wished he could have this Roman beheaded right here on the deck.
’Who does he think he is’
When he spoke he managed to remain calm.
“The Queen has….”
He started again. Choosing different words.
“The condition you talk of great Caesar was one where King Ptolemy and his sister were to rule jointly as monarchs and also as is custom and has been for fifteen generations as husband and wife. Cleopatra decided some time ago that she was no longer happy with this arrangement. But before we could present a solution she left. This is an ancient custom for siblings to rule in this way. It goes back to the very first of our Pharoahs and I need not remind you great Caesar,” again he used the word sarcastically, “That our history is a lot older than yours. Rome is barely seven hundred years old. To us,” he said with a sweep of his hand towards the city. “It is a mere blink of the eye.”
Caesar tapped his toes, irritated.
The Alexandrians had descended from Ptolemy, general of Alexander the Great’s army. Their history was a mere three hundred years old. In that time they had made no effort to become part of Egyptian civilisation. Through lack of discipline they were quite unruly. Caesar could now see why.
“The rot goes all the way to the top of the apple.”
“I beg your pardon Caesar,” Pothinus asked.
“Nothing. I was just muttering under my breath. The crowd seems hostile. I think I’m beginning to see why.”
The Roman stepped over to the heavily armed man and looked into the liquid blue eyes.
“General Achillas is it?”
“Yes Caesar.”
Caesar had heard of this mans prowess.
“Your soldiery is legendary in Rome.”
Achillas nodded slowly, greatly honoured.
“Thank you Caesar.”
Julius guessed they were about the same age.
“Then tell me. General to General. Man to man. Where is the queen?”
“She is not here. It is as the Lord chamberlain said. She