We ascended a flight of marble steps to a flagstone terrace. A railing supported by squat columns overlooked a sheer drop to the water below. On either side, the terrace was flanked by tall palm trees and leafy plants. Behind us rose a windowless wall with a door that gave access to the interior. Dining couches had been set out in a semicircle facing the city, so that each had a view of the sunlit waterfront of Alexandria and its reflection in the harbor.
The queen sat back on the most opulent of the couches, which was strewn with purple cushions. She rested on one elbow and reclined so that one of her feet touched the ground. The pose showed off the lines of her figure; the linen gown clung to her heavy breasts and the sensuous curves of her hips, thighs, and calves. The jewels that adorned her sandals glinted in the dappled sunlight.
Merianis took up a position behind the couch to the queen's left and indicated that I should stand beside her.
A few moments later, Apollodorus appeared. He wore no more clothing than before, but he had ornamented himself with a silver pectoral for the occasion. The hammered metal accentuated the muscles of his bare chest. He made obeisance to the queen. "Your guest has arrived, Your Majesty."
Cleopatra nodded. "You may go, Apollodorus. I'll summon you if I need you."
As Apollodorus turned and disappeared down the steps, the bald pate of Caesar came into view, followed by Caesar's beaming face. He was wearing his consular toga. He mounted the final step and strode onto the terrace. His smile faded, but only a little, at the sight of me.
"The queen of Egypt welcomes the consul of Rome," said Cleopatra. "But where are the consul's lictors?"
"I left them down at the harbor." Caesar approached the queen, making no pretense of bowing. Clearly, in such a setting, there was no need for formality between them. They exchanged a lovers' gaze: relaxed, intimate, confident of reciprocity. She offered her hand; Caesar took it and gave her a lingering kiss, not upon the back of her hand but upon the palm.
Caesar glanced at me. "Do we have another guest?"
"It chanced that Gordianus was here; Merianis brought him, knowing I desired to meet him. Don't worry, there'll be enough octopus for us all. But will there be enough Falernian?"
"Of that, have no fear," said Caesar. A moment later, Meto arrived on the terrace. He was dressed in his finest military regalia, bearing an amphora in his arms as one might carry an infant. He grimaced when he saw me, but said nothing.
I observed the amphora. It was typical in shape, with little handles near the wide-mouthed top and a rounded bottom; it was designed not to stand upright but to be laid lengthwise alongside other amphorae for shipment and storage. The top was stopped with a cork sealed with red wax. Along the side several words had been etched in the clay in letters large enough to be read at a glance: