"I found out about the horns," Flaccus said.
"What horns?" Marcus said, examining a bewildering contraption its designer insisted would lift whole cohorts of soldiers above the walls of an enemy city and set them down inside without having to storm the battlements.
"These," Flaccus said, lifting Marcus's elaborate helmet from the table. "They are ram's horns."
"That much I figured out for myself."
"You haven't done enough sightseeing around here."
"I've been busy," Marcus said.
"If you'd paid attention, you would have learned that the ram is sacred to the god Ammon. Long ago, Greek priests determined that Ammon is identical with Zeus, hence the many temples to Zeus-Ammon erected by the Ptolemies. Zeus, in these temples, is carved in the Greek fashion, but with ram's horns to identify him with the native god. I believe you've noticed that the portraits of Alexander on local coins also depict him wearing these horns."
"That much I had noticed," Marcus said, nodding. "I wondered about that."
"Well, wonder about this." Flaccus reached into his purse and withdrew something. It glittered in the lamplight as he flipped it through the air.
Marcus caught it and sucked in his breath as he saw what rested in his palm. It was a magnificent golden coin, new-minted and as broad as three of his fingers held together. On its obverse side was a beautifully carved and struck masculine profile. Its features were unmistakably his own, and a curling ram's horn sprang from the rather abundant, curling hair above his ear. He raised his eyes to meet his friend's.
"Are these in circulation?" he all but whispered.
"I visited the royal mint this morning, luckily for you. They'd only struck a few, to show to the queen for her approval; I personally watched them melted except for this one. Then I got a sledgehammer and smashed the dies. I told the master coiner that I would see him crucified if so much as a single coin or die were held back. I even found the clay model the sculptor made for the die-cutters as a guide and destroyed that."
"Thank you, old friend," Marcus said with great sincerity. Then: "What do you think the woman is up to? Is she deliberately trying to have me killed?"
"I doubt it, though I wouldn't put it past her. She's not a nasty piece of work like her brother, or like Hamilcar and his sister, but royalty have their own set of priorities. Her first order of business is to secure her own reign. Next, she has to increase or at least sustain the power and prestige of Egypt. Rome is the rising power in the world, so she sees the advantages of an alliance with Rome. You represent Rome."
"That doesn't explain giving me divine horns," Marcus pointed out.
"I haven't told you all I found in the mint."
"Do be so good," Marcus said, pouring himself a large goblet of Lesbian, all but sweating with relief at his near escape. Death was nothing, but execution by senatorial order, with its attendant disgrace to his family, was unthinkable.
"In the sculptor's shop, where I found the prototype for the coin, there was another, unfinished model. This one showed you, horns and all, paired with Selene, portrayed as an old hag in the quaint local fashion."
"What! She really has plans to make me king of Egypt?"
Flaccus shook his head. "Nothing of the sort. She has only just become virtual queen in her own right. What monarch wishes to share power by elevating someone else to equal rank? But she knows her people will feel more secure if they see a strong man by her side. No, I think she wants you for her consort: by her side and in her bed, but definitely under her authority."
"She already has a husband," Marcus said, "her brother."
"Well, he's easily disposed of, isn't he?"
Marcus shrugged. "He's nothing, I agree. But royalty only breed among themselves. I don't think she'd want a commoner like me to father her children."
"She's royal but she's also a realist. As far as she's concerned, the scion of a very ancient family holding the highest honors of a republic is good enough. After all, your ancestors were consuls long before hers were kings. She's descended from Macedonian goatherds who tied their fortunes to the local chief and hit it lucky when one of those chiefs turned out to be Alexander the Great."
"I hadn't thought of it that way," Marcus admitted.
"To give her credit, I doubt that it ever occurred to her how mortally offended the Senate and the population would be by those statues and coins. She isn't accustomed to republican institutions."
Marcus sat and pondered. "I suppose most men would find my predicament hard to comprehend. From being a minor officer and an unimportant senator I've risen to the position of the most important man in the richest nation of the world. I have the throne of Egypt almost within my grasp. Yet here I am, terrified at the implications."