Part 130 (1/2)

There was no doubt that Octavian would carry out his threat But why did he want me alive? Surely his much-vaunted ”clemency” would not be stained because a stubborn woman had starved herself I did not delude myself it was because he wanted to keepwhere it was essential that I be presented alive: his Triumph-He wanted to exhibit me And he would not be balked of his prey

But if there was so as that, then I still had soone, but my person remained It orth the chance to secure my children's lives, if not their throne

I submitted to the ministrations I let Olyethe fever down My protests died away, but still I did not wish to respond to their fussing

Eat thisdrink thisa pillow? Your wishes, ht secure the survival of my children, then die and be entohts were racing, trying desperately to form a plan But I was so tired, so depleted, so confused I had tried soon this action, or that I did not know if I could do it even one last time

But youyou

I knew that, but I had little faith in my schemes now I had concocted so many, and so few had come to fruition Fate--it was fate, Tyche, Fortune, who held the outcoht not be in my destiny

But you must try, must try youI a

Octavian If you can only see Octavian, have an intervieith hi has rarely failed you” He will be s If you fall abjectly at his feet, he will sith pride

Orwhat about Caesar? Can you not appeal to his love of Caesar? Take refuge behind Caesar's shi+eld? How can he dishonor you, whom Caesar honored? The lettersthe Caesar lettersThey are still in et them? They are still in et them?

Or should I pretend I expect to live and am concerned about my diplomatic relationshi+ps in Rome?

Oh, what tack to take? If only I knew hiuess correctly I will have only this one chance

I must recover, so I can face him as an equal Let him think I have been neither crushed nor broken by this, but aotiate--or at least respect

I need a few days to regainhave I been ill?” I asked Olympos My voice was much weaker than I realized; it was just a whisper

He was instantly beside me ”This is the fifth day since the funeral,” he said

Five days I had dreaht, then Antony dead for eight I shuddered, and Oly over my shoulder

”Go to Octavian,” I said ”Or tell Dolabella to do so Tell hi, but that I wish to have a box I left behind in the apartments, which I will let him inspect And my papers--the ones in the workroom I need them, too Let him see them, so he knows it is no trick But I need them”

Mardian rustled over ”You don't need papers! You ood sign she asks for theain”

I had not got that far; I was not sure I could scheme, or that I had the means at hand to do so But the papers would help me decide

”The ivory box with the lock,” I said ”And the papers--in the wooden container in the workroom, by the stool”

”More soup first,” said Olyoat's milk and barley”

It warled to sit up and see where I was The quarters where we had been transferredthe sun was co south There were no bars on the s; they were pretending ere not strict prisoners

”Outside--who is stationed outside the door?” I asked

”There's that Epaphroditus in the outer chauards”

From the way he said ”that Epaphroditus,” I could tell he did not like hiht change as the sunand weak, as I discovered when I tried to sit up My bones felt like jelly It would take as many more days for me to recover as I had been ill

Mardian cereht in the two boxes, and placed them on a table ”He made no trouble about it,” he said ”Or so Epaphroditus claih theth now

”Draw the curtains,” I said ”Shut out the light Ion the seas, riding over the wave troughs, a western wind filling the sails I kneas a western wind, as one does in dreaypt, with Rome atmy hand I could taste the salt spray in my mouth, could feel the jolts as the shi+p rode the wavesexhilarating, fast

”Madaent voice filled my ear, a hand shook my shoulder

”Madam! It is Octavian!”

The words twined themselves around”Octavian, Octavian!” But the shaking continued, and I had the horror of hearing the words, loud now, no dreaer's voice

I openedat h a cold recognition ran through me, it still seemed like a dream The man his

And to have swooped down on e of a plan of how to address him, had not looked at the papers, had not even stood up or dressedin a sweat-soaked sickbed, dirty, undressed, weak He had all the advantages; I could not face hi at me in frank distaste, colored by suspicion at what his eyes beheld Finding sos, I left the bed and walked across the floor to him Then weakness caused rasp his feet I shi+vered as I touched them; all this still seemed part of the fever-dreaarment, that my hair ild and matted

”Up, up,” he said, in that voice that I would recognize anywhere Flat, quiet, a deadly monotone

In truth, I did not have the power to rise I just huddled there, shaking

”Up, up, I say” An emotion at last: a hint of impatience, annoyance He reached down and touched my shoulder, then offered his hand It was dry, like a lizard He drew me up

”Imperator,” I said in so small a voice it was almost a whisper, ”the day is yours Hail, ranted you the mastery and taken it from me”

Helike ue; I was at a loss as to what to do Then, to my horror, Octavian sat down on it beside me

We looked at one another I tried to concentrate on what I saw and forget what he was seeing Strange how little he had changed, but how age puts a new staular face, the wide-set eyes, the little ears, the prim mouth, all the sa of the mouth, had cast the old sweetness away and replaced it with an implacable wariness The Roman boy, The Roman boy, Antony had called him, but he was no boy, and had not a shred of youthfulness Antony had called him, but he was no boy, and had not a shred of youthfulness

His gray-blue eyes, with that darker ri directly intoThis was a man as not afraid to stare, where the boy had veiled his looks

How hard you have grown, I wanted to rown, he would answer he would answer

Now his eyesthe wounds on my upper body, as if to convince himself they were real Satisfied, he took his eyes away and atte?” he asked politely

”Little by little, I et the words out