Free Pharaoh by Karen Essex

lush, enveloping softness of womanhood. He had no doubt the more caustic elements of her personality would again emerge once
     she was on terra firma as queen and no longer required his services to ensure her authority. But it was nice, this radical
     change that allowed him to enjoy her without challenge or effort.
    Caesar stood over Ptolemy’s body. “Strip the armor and display it in the marketplace,” he said to Hirtius, who gave the command
     to the men.
    “And the king’s body, sir?”
    “A respectable tomb, but without spectacle. Do I make myself clear?”
    “Always, Caesar.”
    Caesar took one last look into the dead boy’s eyes and turned away. An heir. What would he make of that? It would cause as
     many problems as it would solve, bring as much sorrow as joy, he was sure, for that was the nature of life. But it would be
     interesting. Perhaps there were a few surprises left after all.

    Kleopatra watched the war from her own balcony like a spectator at a theatrical production. It was as if she had already read
     the text of theplay, what with Caesar unfolding his plans to her at night, and then the next day enacting them to the letter. During those
     times, she learned that Caesar was right; Fortune was on his side. It seemed true that if Caesar wished something, it inevitably
     happened. It was as if he were dictating to the gods and not the opposite. Kleopatra thought that Alexander probably had possessed
     the same gift-that is, until the end, when the gods decided to reclaim their mastery over the mortal man. At some point, they
     would exact that toll from Caesar, but until then, it was clear that they kissed him with blessings. It was impossible to
     learn the personal secrets of Alexander-how he had gained influence over both the divine and mortal worlds-but here was Julius
     Caesar, in Kleopatra’s own bed, where she might observe his ways and learn how he managed to wield power over the gods themselves.
    Ganymedes had had the palace entirely surrounded by land and by sea. His ships outnumbered Caesar’s navy, and to worsen the
     siege, he had pumped salt water into the wells used by the Roman army. But Caesar did not get discouraged; in fact, to Kleopatra
     he seemed nonplussed, mildly inconvenienced. He was certain that the Jewish forces would not let him down-they could not afford
     to disappoint him again-and so he told Kleopatra that they would make the best of things in the interim. She knew that the
     Roman army was only days from dying of thirst, and had told him so.
    “No matter,” he had replied. “There’s always a way if men are willing to work. My men are bored anyway. They despise being
     on this end of a siege. They find it rather embarrassing. They’ll relish the task.” She did not know what he had in mind,
     until he urged her to look out her window. There, she watched Caesar’s men dig deep tunnels, working day and night, to reach
     the drinkable wells near the shore. When she congratulated him on the discovery of the wells, he replied, “Roman ingenuity.”
     He added, “A race of men who do not mind work,” as a slight against the Greeks, who were thought to have grown indolent in
     the centuries since the great days of Pericles.
    Finally, the Roman senate sent Caesar a small flotilla from Asia Minor. They had taken so long with naval reinforcements that
     Kleopatra had begun to wonder if they wished Caesar victorious in Egypt, or if they had a covert agenda. She asked him about
     the matter, and he replied that undoubtedly his enemies in Rome wished him vanquished. “But the wishes of my enemies are of no consequence to the Fate of Caesar,” he said.
    He promised Kleopatra that the next day would prove eventful, and he did not disappoint. In a night-long meeting with his
     admiral from Rhodes, to which he allowed Kleopatra attendance, she listened to them devise their plan. They would sail right
     up to the Egyptian ships, engage them in battle, and quickly set