He blinked at her bluntness. Here was a woman used to every question being answered, every whim met. She seemed unaware of the pain she was causing him. "He could not find a better general. I am a perfect scourge in the field, though not as you see me now."

He spoke with sardonic amusement, but when she did not respond, he could not hold the expression. His features slowly drooped into blankness. "We were young together," he said. "I made a mistake and he forgave me." He was surprised at his own honesty. It was less painful to spin a tale.

"I would have killed you," she muttered, biting her lower lip.

Brutus could only look at her, sensing she spoke the truth. He reminded himself that the queen had known absolute power from her youngest years. She was every bit as deadly as the black snakes of the Nile.

"I could never forgive a betrayal, General. Your Caesar is either a great man or a fool. Which do you think it is?"

"I think you and he have much in common. I do not answer to you, however, nor will I explain myself to you any longer."

"He has gone tonight to kidnap my husband, my brother, and my king. He has seen only the edges of the army Egypt can field. Caesar may die in the striving, or my brother fall and be pierced with arrows. This is the great game, General. These are the stakes involved. Listen to the words when I say this to you. He let you live because he is blind to you. He does not know what goes on in your heart."

She touched his neck with the palm of her hand, pressing. He thought she must bathe in lotus oil to have such an effect. He felt a tiny scratch, as if from a thorn. He might have jerked away, but his senses pressed in on him and he longed for a breath of cold air. He heard her speak through layers and layers of winding cloth, muffled.

"I know you, General. I know every small sin, and every great one. I know your heart as Caesar never can. I know hatred. I know jealousy. I know you."

Her hand dropped away and he staggered, still able to feel where her nails had pressed.

"Be loyal now, General, or measure your life in beats. His fate is tied up in Egypt, in me. And my arm is long. I will not suffer another betrayal, nor even the shadow of one."

He gaped at her intensity, stunned and bewildered. "Egyptian bitch, what have you done to me?" he said, groggily.

"I have saved your life, Roman," she said.

Her lips formed a smile then, but the eyes were cold and watchful. Without another word, she left him alone in the entrance hall, slumped against a pillar and shaking his head like a wounded animal.

The Canopic Way cut through the heart of Alexandria. The two legions with Julius jogged east along its length, their clattering sandals shattering the peace of the night. In the darkness, the main artery of the city was an eerie place. Temples to strange gods loomed over them and statues seemed ready to leap into life on every side. The flickering of night lamps cast shadows on the grim men who ran with drawn swords toward the royal palace.

Julius kept pace with them, measuring his breaths as his legs and chest began to loosen. The feeling of excitement had not lessened. If anything, he had wound himself to an even tighter pitch of tension and he felt young as he counted the roads they passed. At the fifth, he gestured left and the snake of legionaries turned into the outskirts of the palace, following the same route he had taken with Porphiris three days before.

The royal palace was not a single building but a complex of many structures, set in sculpted gardens. The first gates were manned by nervous guards, long alerted by the crash of pounding feet. Soldiers of the Tenth stepped forward with heavy hammers and brought the barrier down in a few swift blows. The first blood of the evening was shed as the guards raised their weapons and were left to be trampled as the legions went on into the dark grounds.

The main building where Julius had met the boy king was lit at all points and gleamed in the night. Julius had no need to direct the men toward it. There were more guards there and they died bravely, but the Tenth had spread out into their fighting line and only an army could have held them.

Panic was spreading through the palace quarters and the resistance they met was sporadic and badly organized. Julius had the impression that a direct assault had never even been considered. The outer gates had been designed for artifice and beauty rather than solid defense, and the defenders seemed to be in chaos, shouting and screaming at each other.

Armed soldiers began to spill from an unseen barracks, trying desperately to form before the Tenth reached them. They were slaughtered like cattle and lambs, their blood spilling down the steps to the main entrance. The doors of bronze that had been open for Julius's first visit were now closed, and as he reached them he could hear bars thumping into place. He thanked his gods for Cleopatra's knowledge and leapt over a stone wall at the side of the steps, calling for hammers as he ran to a lesser entrance.

The ringing blows sounded far in the dark. As if to answer them, an alarm bell began to ring somewhere near, and Julius dispatched a century to silence it.

The side door was solidly made and Julius was forced to control his impatience. He checked the edge of his sword, though he had yet to blood it. Then the tone of the impacts changed and the door fell. His Tenth roared into the breach and Julius heard screaming inside. He stayed close to the front, shouting orders and directing them as best he could. The palace looked very different from his previous visit by day, and it took a few moments to get his bearings.

"Tenth, with me!" he shouted, racing through a hall.

He heard Octavian and Domitius panting at his back and allowed his pace to slow a little. It would do no good for him to run straight onto the swords of defenders around the king, and the two generals were better able to clear the way.

Even as he had the thought, the black corridor seemed to fill with men, and Julius saw Octavian and Domitius dart in with their swords swinging. The only light was from a lamp much farther down and the combat was brief and terrifying, bodies struggling in shadows. The Roman armor held against the bronze blades of the palace guard, and in only a few moments the first of the Tenth were stepping over the dead and rushing on.

"Which way?" Octavian said, spitting blood from a broken lip.

Julius wished for more light, but could make out the white gleam of marble stairs he had ascended a lifetime before.

"Up there!" he said, pointing.

His breath was coming harshly and his sword had lost its gleam with the stain of an unknown guard, but he ran with the others as they pounded up the steps. Cleopatra had told him where her brother slept and Julius took a turning away from the meeting hall into a corridor that was better lit than the rest of the labyrinth. Once more, he saw Octavian and Domitius take positions ahead and suddenly he was shouting for them to stop.

They had passed a door that seemed to be made of solid gold. Julius looked around for the men who carried hammers.

"Here! He's in here," Julius called. "Hammers to me!" He threw his weight against the door, but felt no give in it.

"If you'd stand back, sir," a burly soldier of the Tenth said at his shoulder.

Julius stepped clear as the man raised the iron head and began a pounding rhythm, quickly joined by two more. The corridor became the focus for the Roman force, with defensive stations taken up around it while the last obstacles were broken.

The gold was heavy but it dented under each blow and it was not long before one of the great oblong barriers sagged away on a broken hinge.

An arrow flew through the gap, ricocheting off the head of a hammer and slicing into a soldier's cheek. With an oath, he yanked at it and three of the Tenth held him down while the arrow was snapped and the head removed with brutal efficiency. Shields were raised as the second door fell, and two more of the whining shafts struck uselessly against them as the Tenth surged into the room.