They made love as the whim took them, by day or night. He had found it difficult at first to ignore the slaves on the barge, with no more than a canopy of fine silk to protect the queen from their gaze. She who had been attended from birth had laughed at his embarrassment, prodding at his dignity until he had slipped the robe from her shoulders and kissed her skin, turning her laughter into a deeper rhythm of breath.

There were eight oars on either side of the barge to ease them through the waters. The blades had been dipped in silver and shone like sunken coins as they sliced beneath the surface. The Nile wound through valleys and vast flats and plains as if it had no end, and there were times when Julius could imagine the journey continuing forever.

In the evenings, he talked for hours with her astrologer, Sosigenes, who had predicted the birth of a son. The man had hesitated to speak to the Roman leader at first, but as the weeks slid by, Julius fell naturally into conversation with him. He was hungry for confirmation of the omens Sosigenes had cast and though at first he doubted the power of augury, his hope turned slowly to belief. The Greek had a sharp mind and Julius spent many hours discussing the course of planets, the seasons, and even the calendar with him. Sosigenes had struggled not to show his contempt for the Roman system and said even the Egyptian years were flawed. By his calculations, 365 days was almost correct, needing only another day in every fourth spring to be perfect. Julius demanded proof of his assertions and the man rose to the challenge, covering the deck with sheets of papyrus marked in charcoal until Julius was dizzy with the flights of planets and stars. In Rome, the high priest took or added days each year, but Sosigenes’ love of simplicity and order was appealing. Julius wondered how the Senate would react if he imposed such a system on the citizens of Rome.

As Cleopatra’s pregnancy progressed she felt the heat more fiercely and spent the afternoons in sleep behind the awnings. Julius was left to stare for hours at the sinister shapes of crocodiles amongst the bulrushes, waiting patiently for an ibis or calf to come too close. Seeing them snatch at prey was the only touch of fire to interrupt the long dream of the Nile. The silver oars rose and fell, only still when the breeze filled the purple sail above their heads. Julius had Sosigenes tell him stories when the sun was too hot to bear. He let the legends wash over him until he felt he was a part of the drifting landscape, part of its future.