***
Bright sunlit hallways and cool floors covered with rushes and rugs: Saar barely saw them as he marched through the palace, too preoccupied to offer a nod or a smile to those who passed. By the time he reached the doors he sought, his stomach had twisted into tight knots. Clearing his throat, he knocked once on the huge wooden doors and entered.
The chamber within was also bright and warm. Statuettes of cats and symbols of the sun god filled every available space. In amongst the treasures were coins, pots, flowers and the occasional tapestry woven from fine silks. In the middle of the room, reclined in a large stone bath lay Cleopatra, her thick black hair braided and piled high on her head. She swivelled when he entered, spilling milk over the sides to wash across the floor and dampen the rushes. The girls attending her immediately closed ranks to block her from view.
‘My Lady Queen,’ he said, stopping a respectable distance away. ‘I had no idea you were still bathing. I’ll return when you’ve finished.’
‘No.’ The voice came before he could turn away.
The cluster of women, dressed in diaphanous robes of white and cream, stepped to one side. Between them, Cleopatra looked over the side of the bath, her arms crossed beneath her chin. Thick rings of black kohl highlighted her eyes, and across her lips some red substance gave her the look of a perpetual pout. Though her face needed no such assistance to look appealing.
Saar gazed at her and understood Kiya’s anger. He had to admit Cleopatra was an attractive woman, but her appeal faded once past the face and body. She was young and selfish, petty and fickle.
A cascade of grimy milk slid from her body as Cleopatra stood. Two more women approached with clay jugs and rinsed her skin with clear water. Then the queen put out one leg and one hand, a silent order for assistance. Once safely on the ground, she extended her arms and the women draped a gown of fresh white linen over her damp skin. She smoothed it into place, belted the waist with a golden cord and stepped towards him.
‘So modest.’ Her voice teased him like a physical caress. ‘Will you not look at me?’
‘It’s not proper,’ he murmured, watching his feet. ‘I have no place to—’
‘To see my body? I’m queen; I may show my body to whomever I please. Look at me.’ She clicked her tongue. ‘Look at me.’
When he raised his eyes, she held the golden cord in both hands. Water dripped from the shorter strands of hair at the back of her neck and ran down her shoulders. One drop slid through a gap in the linen, marking the path between her breasts.
Saar licked his lips. Swallowed. Looked away again.
Cleopatra giggled. ‘Men. So hard, commanding and fierce, but put them before a woman and they lose their heads. Please, Saar. Look at me.’
He dragged his gaze back to hers. Forced it to stay there and watch as she untied the cord and opened the sides of the robe. She pushed it back from her shoulders and stood before him naked and beautiful.
‘Do you love me?’
He flinched. ‘You’re my queen.’
‘I know. Answer the question.’
‘With all my heart, my flesh and my sword.’
She grinned. ‘Really?’
‘Of course, My Lady Queen.’
‘Then touch me.’
Saar looked directly into her eyes. They were green, a colour brought forward and made brighter by the incredible contrast made by the kohl. The pale smoothness of her skin, so different to his own, was flushed.
‘Touch me.’
Fingers trembling, Saar touched her bare shoulder.
She frowned. ‘Touch me properly.’
‘I— I’m sorry,’ he fought the urge to look back to the floor.
‘Here.’ Cleopatra snatched his hand and held it against her left breast. She splayed her fingers over his, trapping him in place. ‘I enjoy the rough touch of your skin. A soldier’s hands.’
Beads of sweat gathered on his forehead. ‘I think—’
‘My lady, Cleopatra. What are you doing now?’ The voice came from near the doors and, beneath his hand, the queen stiffened.
She glared at him then shoved his hand away, stooping to scoop her robe back into her arms with one smooth motion. Feeding her arms into it, she then stalked past him to reach the newcomer.
‘Antony!’ She paused with her hands outstretched.
Saar saw the pleasure in her eyes as surely as he felt his own heart sink.
‘I thought you would never return, it has been many years.’ Her voice became breathless.
‘Just four.’ The man crossed the room and swept the queen into his arms.
Saar glared at him, hating every inch of his smug round face and short curly hair. Even his clothing, a mix of cloth, leather and metal, made him want to punch something.
Cleopatra giggled. ‘I’ve missed you. I’ve been lonely without you.’
‘I’m sure you found willing servants to warm your bed.’
The look Antony shot over her shoulder might have frozen a weaker man, but Saar merely ducked his head and tried to look as innocent as possible.
When sure that he had his voice and emotions under control, he spoke. ‘My Lord Antony, I thought you were in Rome?’
‘I was.’ The other man stroked the trim bush of hair about his chin and jaw. ‘And I returned. Does that please you?’
Rather than lying, Saar cleared his throat and returned his focus to Cleopatra. ‘You wished to speak with me, My Lady Queen?’
‘Yes,’ she tried to step forward but Antony’s arm around her shoulders snagged her back. ‘I have questions about the latest defence plan.’
Antony’s nostrils flared. ‘What defence plan?’
‘Saar outlined a plan to improve our general defences.’
‘I gave no order for that.’
The familiar prickle began to tease down Saar’s spine. Four years apart clearly hadn’t dampened that fire. ‘In your absence I was charged with the city’s defences. I take my responsibilities very seriously and I serve the queen.’
Dark eyes, above a hard hooked nose, narrowed to tiny slits. ‘And I, as king, take my duties very seriously. We are strong and well prepared. Our naval fleet is unparalleled and our infantry has no match. No one within a thousand miles has any desire or means to attack us.’
The word ‘king’ made Saar flinch. So did ‘us’. But he could see no way to question either without overstepping the line he already walked with reckless abandon. He angled himself towards Cleopatra. ‘My Lady Queen,’ he whispered, ‘these plans are essential. Without extra men on the borders and within the palace themselves, any attack could lead to innumerable casualties. Please consider what I have to say.’
Cleopatra, dwarfed beneath Antony’s massive arm, gave him a winsome smile. ‘You worry too much. If Antony says there is no need of any further defence then I’m sorry to have wasted your time.’
He gritted his teeth. ‘Will you at least hear me? Perhaps some part of my plans will interest you.’
‘She said “no”, Saar.’ Antony actually smiled. ‘Now get out.’
He stared at Cleopatra, silently pleading, but she had already turned away, waving an absent hand towards the exit.
His shoulders slumped. ‘My Lady, Queen.’ Bowing once, Saar stepped around the pair and aimed for the door.
‘Captain Saar?’ The voice swung him round.
With Cleopatra still trapped beneath his left arm, Antony lifted his free hand and pointed at his face. ‘If you touch my wife again I’ll have your hands removed.’
‘Wife?’
Cleopatra squealed. ‘You returned to marry me?’
‘Of course. I would never have left but for the small matter of the Parthians. Now that they’re dealt with, I’ll stay with you.’
‘No!’ The word burst free before he could catch it. Saar slapped his hands over his mouth but the damage was done.
Very slowly Antony turned away from the queen. His eyes narrowed and deep furrows formed in his forehead. ‘Yes.
In the way of your people. With ancient rites I’ll marry Cleopatra and make Alexandria my home. Are you happy for us?’
Saar bit his lip. It was the only way to keep the scream from bursting free. ‘Of course, My Lord. Congratulations.’
‘King,’ he snapped, arching one thick eyebrow. ‘I’ll be king, you’d do well to grow accustomed to that fact.’
‘Yes, My Lord, King.’ With a last, despairing look at Cleopatra, Saar spun on his heel and dashed from the room.
Chapter Twenty-Three