"Greetings and honor to you, Consul," the man said in flawless Latin. "I bear the gift of Cleopatra, daughter of Isis, queen of Egypt, honored wife to Ptolemy."

As he spoke the man lowered his burden to the floor with immense care. Something moved within it and Octavian whipped his sword from its sheath.

The stranger spun at the sound, his palms held up. "Please, there is no danger to you," he said.

Octavian stepped forward with his blade and the man knelt quickly, unrolling the carpet with a jerk.

A young woman tumbled out, landing catlike on her hands and knees. Julius's jaw dropped as she came to rest. A scanty patch of yellow silk covered her breasts and another wound around her waist, revealing long legs down to bare feet. Her skin was dark gold and her hair wild from her time in the carpet. Tendrils of it fell forward to cover a face flushed with heat and embarrassment. It may have been Julius's imagination, but he thought he could hear her swearing softly under her breath.

As the Romans watched in astonishment, she put her lower lip half over the other and blew a tendril of hair out of her vision. Her gaze fixed on Julius as she arranged herself in a more dignified position and rose slowly.

"I am Cleopatra," she said. "I would speak with you alone, Caesar."

Julius was entranced. She had the body of a dancer, with heavy-lidded eyes and a full mouth that suggested a rare sensuality. Gold earrings gleamed and a red garnet like a drop of blood hung around her throat. She was as beautiful as he had heard.

"Leave us," Julius said, without looking at the others.

Octavian hesitated for a moment until Julius met his eyes, then he left with Domitius and the bearded servant.

Julius crossed to a table and filled a silver cup with red wine, using the action to give him time to think. She came with him and accepted the cup in both hands.

"Why did you have yourself delivered in such a fashion?" Julius asked.

She drank deeply before replying and he wondered what it had been like to be trapped in the stifling cloth of the carpet for so long.

"If I had come openly, the courtiers would have imprisoned me. I am not welcome in Alexandria, not anymore."

Her eyes never left his as she spoke, and Julius found her directness uncomfortable. He gestured to a bench and she followed him to it, drawing her legs up slowly under her.

"How can the queen be unwelcome?" Julius asked.

"Because I am at war, Caesar. My loyal warriors are at the borders of Syria, unable to enter Egypt. My life would have been worth nothing if I had come by day."

"I don't understand," Julius said.

She leaned closer to him and he could smell a rich perfume coming from her bare skin like smoke. He found himself becoming aroused by the near-naked girl and struggled not to show it.

"My brother Ptolemy is thirteen years old," she said. "Under Panek he has no say in the rule of my lands."

"Your brother?" Julius said.

She nodded. "My brother and my husband, in one." She saw his expression and laughed, a low chuckle that he enjoyed.

"It is a formal thing, Roman, to keep the bloodline pure. We were king and queen together, as my father married his own sister. When Ptolemy was of an age, I would have borne his children to rule after us."

Julius felt lost amidst these revelations. He struggled to find something to break the silence that had sprung up between them.

"You speak my language beautifully," he ventured.

She laughed again, delighting him. "My father taught it, though I am the first of his line to speak Egyptian. Would you prefer to converse in Greek? It was the language of my childhood."

"It makes me glad to hear you say it," he said earnestly. "I have admired Alexander all my life. To be here with the descendant of his general is intoxicating."

"Egypt claims me now, Caesar; runs like fire in me," she said.

Her skin was smooth copper-gold, oiled every day of her life. He knew she would be extraordinary to touch.

"But you cannot take your throne, for fear," he said softly.

Cleopatra snorted. "Not of my people. They are loyal to the goddess in me."

Julius frowned at the statement from such a youthful girl. "I do not believe such things."

She looked at him with interest and he felt his pulses throb. "The flesh you see is nothing, Caesar. My Ka is divine within me, held until my death. You could not see it."

"Your Ka?"

"My… spirit. My soul. Like a flame in a shuttered lamp, if you wish."

Julius shook his head. Her perfume seemed to fill every breath he took, so close was he sitting to her. He had not seen her move, but the distance between them seemed to have shrunk and the room felt hot.

"You have not said why you came to me," he said.

"Is it not obvious? I have heard of you, Caesar. I have prayed to Isis to be delivered from my exile and you were sent to me. You have an army to tip the balance in the very heart of Alexandria." Her eyes pleaded.

"What of your own soldiers?" he asked.

"They are too few and spies crawl like flies around their camp. I risked death to reach you, Caesar, and I am only one." She reached out to him and touched his face with a cool hand. "I need a man of honor, Caesar. I need him desperately. You may claim not to believe, but the gods led you here for this."

Julius shook his head. "I followed Gnaeus Pompey, murdered on your own docks."

She did not look away. "And what made him come to Alexander's city? There are many ports. If you cannot believe, then give me my revenge as you take yours! The order for Pompey's death bore the name of my family, in dishonor. Panek uses the royal seal as if it were his own. Will you help me, Roman?"

Julius rose clumsily from the couch, overwhelmed by her. The idea of bringing the arrogant courtiers to their knees appealed to him. He thought of the extraordinarii and soldiers coming over from Asia Minor and wondered if they would arrive before his seven days were up.

"How many men do they have?" he said.

She smiled, unfolding her legs until her toes touched the bare marble floor.

Domitius and Octavian watched as Julius paced with new energy. He had not slept or taken time to shave, though the sun had risen over the city and the noise of trade and life came in through the high windows.

"This is not our struggle, Julius," Octavian said, worried and upset. He could see the prospect of returning to Rome dwindling before him and had conceived an instant dislike for the woman who had brought the change.

"It is if I make it so," Julius replied. "My word alone is reason enough." He paused, wanting the younger man to understand. "If we intervene here, then perhaps one day this city will be part of our empire-and all of Egypt beyond it. Imagine that! Cities older than Greece and a pathway to the East." His eyes were shining with the vision and Octavian knew there would be no turning him home.

"I assume her beauty has not affected your judgment," Octavian said.

Julius set his jaw in anger, then shrugged. "I am not immune, but this is a chance to set the precedent of Roman interest. I could not have asked for a better chance than to cut the knots of their tangled politics. If the gods are on our side, they are Roman gods! It cries out to me, Octavian."

"And Rome cries out for your return!" Octavian snapped, surprising them both. "You have won all your battles. It is time to return to the rewards, surely? The men are expecting your word on it."

Julius rubbed his chin with his hand, looking suddenly weary.

"If I go back, I may never leave Rome again. I've grown too old to be planning new campaigns. But not old enough to fear one more for the right cause. How can I claim to bring the light of our civilization and then turn away from this? If we only look inward to our own affairs, the influence we have gained will be wasted." He paused in front of Octavian, gripping him by the shoulder. "I intend to use the influence those years of battle have won for me. I would have you join me willingly, but if you cannot, you may return."