Farewell, My Love

Farewell, My Love

Orange Pinkish hues flooded the sky as the vessel cut through the still waters of the Nile. Evening appeared in all her splendor. Charmion moved gracefully out on to the deck of the vessel. She attended to the gathering of the rugs her great Mistress Cleopatra used that afternoon. Charmion beckoned for the young servant girls to come and help her retrieve every last rug. As they scurried around her, she turned her gaze to the gorgeous sunset. The view along the Nile never ceased to amaze her.

Charmion had been on this cruise with Cleopatra and Caesar for ten days now. She knew their trip together down the Nile was not endearing her mistress to anyone’s heart. The Egyptians were furious with their female Pharaoh for courting a foreign ruler when she was married to her young brother. The Romans despised their great ruler for giving his heart to a foreigner. Everyone had their reason for disagreeing with the union of these two great personalities. Charmion didn’t have an opinion. Her mistress could do what she wanted. It was simply her duty to serve her mistress and make sure she was well taken care of.

“What do you search for my sweet?” The voice of Menotho cut through her musings.

Charmion turned and looked up at Menotho; she immediately used her hand to shield her eyes from the setting sun. Tilting her head she replied, “I do not search. I admire the beauty.”

“Well said, well said.” Menotho’s smile opened his chiseled face up to reveal a kinder person within. “And what do you know of your mistress and her lover?”

“Be quiet!” Charmion commanded. She quickly looked over her shoulder to make sure no one else had heard Menotho’s impertinent question. He sometimes forgot that his rippling muscles and his broad shoulders would be no match for those protecting Caesar and Cleopatra. “Don’t you understand you can’t just say whatever comes to your mind?”

Menotho moved closer to Charmion until her neck felt like it would snap off from the weight of her head looking up at him. He didn’t say anything but just stared into her eyes. She began to feel dizzy and nudged him gently away. It was a futile attempt to push him. He lowered his lips towards her lips, but she twirled her way out of his reach causing him to almost lose his balance.

“Ah, you play with me.” growled Menotho.

Charmion felt flushed and looked around again, relieved to see her little helpers left her alone with Menotho. He loved to play a dangerous game and she wasn’t sure she was up for it. She only met him when they came on this cruise and she wasn’t sure how far she should allow their friendship to go. She knew what he wanted but she didn’t know whether she could or should meet his expectations. Menotho was a man of the waters. He was free from ties. She just imagined that he might have a servant girl at each place he went. He did not strike her as one who would settle down, and even if he was, what were her chances of settling down with someone when she had to devote herself wholly to her Queen.

Charmion glanced around again just to make sure they were still alone, she moved closer to Menotho and whispered, “I do not play. I only hope that you will be wise. As you know I have many responsibilities. I must attend to my Queen, I am responsible for her comfort.”

“And what about your comfort, sweet Charmion?”

“My comfort does not matter, as long as she is taken care of.” With this statement made, she spun on her heel and left him standing there. Iras would be wondering where she was and so she needed to go and help her with the night preparations for her mistress. No time could be wasted in silly banter with a man who she just met.

“Charmion, Charmion, awake!” Iras’ voice lacerated her dreams. Charmion rubbed her sleepy eyes and stared for a long time at Iras’ face. Was it just her dream again? That beautiful dream she always had of days gone by? Was it true that she was no longer on the Nile with her beloved Menotho, but was now in confinement with her Mistress and her fellow servant, Iras? Morning after morning she had to wake up remembering that their lives were no longer carefree. It never got easier.

Years had passed since the beautiful cruise on the Nile. Caesar was dead. Mark Antony was also tragically gone. Now her mistress remained under lock and key. Octavian’s treatment of her was not bad. In fact, he treated her quite well, but for someone who had enjoyed the riches of the nation and a relationship with two of the greatest rulers of all time; it was humiliating to be confined in any manner. Charmion knew that her mistress was simply biding her time here.

“Iras, I dreamt again of the Nile.” Charmion said as she rose from her bed.

Iras moved towards the door, “No time for dreaming Charmion, just come and prepare the morning food for our mistress,” she tossed over her shoulder.

Dreams were all Charmion had left. The days on the Nile were like a wild fantasy. She had discovered that Menotho was not just a playful sailor, but he really loved her and wanted to spend the rest of his life with her. Cleopatra had other plans and soon went to Rome to be with Caesar. Charmion had no choice but to follow her mistress. After all, that was what she was born to do, to be of service to this great woman. Her life was forever tied to her queen.

Just a year before the captivity, Charmion had joyously bumped into Menotho on the streets of Alexandria. He had not changed. Their love was quickly reignited and time melted away. Their happiness was short lived as greater events took over their lives. Alexandria came under attack by Octavian and his armies and once again they were torn apart.

Charmion moved quickly around the kitchen brushing away the memories that taunted her daily. The regrets waited silently around the corner ready to pounce on her if she gave them the chance. If only she had listened to Menotho and had run away with him. But how could she betray her queen? He never could understand her loyalty to this woman who only thought of herself. The great, almighty Cleopatra that got whatever she wanted. She didn’t care who she hurt along the way to obtain what she wanted. If she tore marriages apart, if she tore countries apart, nothing mattered except what she wanted. So why should Charmion sacrifice her own happiness for this woman? Even Charmion herself could not explain this to Menotho. All she knew was this was her responsibility. This was what she was born to do.

Cleopatra was already sitting on the lounge chair awaiting her morning refreshment. She looked pale in comparison to years gone by. Her face looked far older than her thirty-nine years. Charmion laid the table with the fruits for her mistress.

“Charmion, do you remember the experiments I used to do with the snakes?” Cleopatra asked as she picked up a grape and tossed it into her mouth.

Charmion shuddered with the thought of those horrible times when her mistress and Mark Anthony would invite guests to watch as snakes poisoned their prisoners. They would observe the various types of snake bites and what the outcome was for each one. Charmion and Iras were forced to stand and watch also as they attended to their mistress. The tortured scream of those dying from the poisons injected by the fangs of the snakes were forever etched in Charmion’s memory. She often wished this memory would fade, but as with the good memories it also lingered on to haunt her. Why would her mistress want to remember such horrors?

“Charmion, do you not respond when I speak to you?”

“Oh yes, My Queen, I do remember well.”

“Charmion, Iras tells me you have someone who loves you. He still waits for you outside these doors, is this true?”

Charmion frowned and glanced first at Iras, but she was looking out towards the gardens. Why would her mistress be concerned with her love life? She took a deep breath and wondered how to respond. She knew Cleopatra well enough to know that no question was asked without a meaning or a purpose. Licking her dried lips, she responded, “Yes, this is true.”

Cleopatra stood up and smiled triumphantly. “Then all is not lost!”

Charmion’s answer seemed to energize the captive queen. Color rushed in Cleopatra’s cheeks and she had a lightness in her step. She turned to Charmion and grabbed her arm, drawing her closer and whispered in her ear, “You must send a message to this love of yours and ask him for a favor. And his love for you will be the assurance that he will do whatever you ask of him.”

“What is it, Mistress, you would have me request of him? I am not even sure if he is at the same place? I am not sure my message will reach him.” Charmion fumbled with her words. She knew she was able to get messages to Menotho when she wanted to. She passed them through the guards’ hands and they sympathized with this beautiful young servant girl who was forfeiting her love for the sake of her Mistress. They could not understand her stubbornness, but they admired her for her self sacrifice. If her time in captivity was brightened by romantic messages being passed occasionally who were they to deprive her? Charmion was not sure she wanted any message from her mistress to be passed along; she knew it would not be a romantic message. She didn’t dare imagine what her mistress would want from Menotho.

Cleopatra said, “I will write the message, you will simply make sure he gets it.”

When Cleopatra had left the room, Charmion turned to Iras for some explanation but she pled ignorance. “Oh you know our Mistress; she always has something that she wants to do. It could be anything! Maybe she misses some delicacy and she wants him to bring it to her. What can I say?”

“But why did you tell her about Menotho?”

“Charmion, do you think that our Mistress is blind to these things? If I had not told her, she would have a way of finding it out from someone else.”

“Who am I, but a mere servant? Why does she need to know about me?” A heaviness fell on Charmion’s shoulders. She drew a deep breath hoping to relieve the heavy feeling but alas, she was bowed down with a foreboding too great to bear.

It was not long before Cleopatra had returned with a message ready to be delivered. She uttered strict instructions that Charmion must tell whoever was sending the message must not read it. Only Menotho should read the message. Charmion knew better than to ask what was written in the message. As she carried it to the guards, her heart pounded within her. She tried not to look nervous when she asked them to please see if they could locate Menotho again. It had been weeks since she last sent a message. The guards thought nothing of her request. They assured her they would find Menotho and deliver the message.

The next morning dawned with Charmion emerging from the same dreams of the Nile. Her life was so predictable. No more orange sunsets. No more impromptu meetings in the marketplace. No more banquets to prepare for and to dress her mistress for. Now it was the daily humdrum of life in confinement. Mechanically she went to prepare the morning refreshments. Cleopatra was sitting primly facing the gardens. She almost looked as she had in her former glory: before she was dethroned, before her lover Caesar was brutally murdered, and before her greatest love of all time, Mark Anthony killed himself. Without even looking at Charmion, Cleopatra asked, “Was the message sent?”

“Yes, My Queen.”

Still looking towards the gardens, Cleopatra said, “Call Iras, I must talk to both of you.”

When Iras entered the room, the two servants stood waiting for their mistress to tell them what she wanted of them. The large room remained silent. If Cleopatra had something to say to them she was in no hurry to do so. Reaching down for an orange slice, Cleopatra finally turned to her servants. “Today we will eat figs.”

“Figs?” They asked in unison.

“Yes, figs. That is what I requested of your friend. He will bring a basket of figs. You will bring it to me, Iras, in my bed chamber. I will wear my finest attire. I will lie on my golden bed and I will eat figs.”

Had their mistress gone mad? What was she rambling on about eating figs for?

“You want to eat figs? But we didn’t need to ask my friend to bring those, we could have asked the guards to deliver them to us.” Charmion responded.

Cleopatra smiled.

“We will eat figs tonight.”

Iras, the logical one, asked, “And after we eat figs shall we prepare for the journey to Rome? You know we have been told we are to leave in just three day's time.”

“We will eat figs tonight and that is all we need to know.” With the strange statement, Cleopatra left the room.

Towards evening one of the guards came to alert Charmion to the fact her beloved, Menotho was waiting at the door with a basket of figs. Her heart leapt at the sight of him. He pleaded with the guards to allow him entry with his basket of figs. They saw no harm in allowing the lovers to have some time to talk with each other. Menotho embraced his little Charmion. She didn’t care about the guards; they averted their eyes when they saw Charmion peeking at them. She just wanted to stay in Menotho’s arms forever. He pressed his mouth down near her ear and whispered, “Oh, Charmion, won’t you change your mind and come away with me?”

With her head buried into his chest, she whispered back, “No I can’t, I must stay here with my mistress.”

“I think you don’t understand what you are saying.” His voice sounded strangled as if he could hardly utter the words that he said. Charmion looked up into her lover’s face, and saw deep pain embedded in every line.

“What is it, my love?” She whispered.

“Don’t you know what is in the basket?” He asked.

Charmion answered, “Figs, of course, and what else would there be?”

“Oh my dear sweet Charmion, don’t you know Cleopatra by now?” Menotho held onto her all the tighter. He wanted to protect her from all the evil and yet he knew he could not.

“Menotho, what are you saying?”

“There is an asp hidden amongst the figs.” Why did his words not surprise Charmion? She clung to her love. She held him tightly and breathed in his musky odor. She wanted to remember this moment forever. She would take the memory of him with her into the afterlife. She knew now why her mistress was revived. She would defeat her captor in her own death. She would not allow herself to be humiliated, but rather she would die by her own hand. She would remain Queen of her own destiny and of course, she would need her two loyal servants to go with her into the afterlife. How could they not follow her? There was no choice. As if he read her mind, Menotho said, “You can choose to follow me.”

Through her tears, Charmion said, “No, I must follow my mistress. It is my duty.”

“And what about me?” Menotho asked.

“I will take your memory with me.” She released him and picked up the basket.

“Charmion, don’t go.”

“Farewell, my love.” Charmion responded as she kept walking towards the bedchamber of her mistress.

She didn’t see Menotho leave, but she heard the doors shut behind him. She entered Cleopatra’s bedchamber.

“Mistress, the figs are here and we are ready to eat them.”

Cleopatra was dressed in her finest gown. She sat on the edge of her golden bed with her crown on her lap. Iras moved towards Charmion to take the basket from her.

“No, Iras, I must explain. My Queen, may I explain to Iras?”

“You may.” Cleopatra never looked so calm in all her life. She was at peace.

It didn’t take Charmion long to explain to Iras what was expected of them. Iras didn’t hesitate for a moment. She knew her destiny was to serve her mistress. Together they opened the basket and Iras removed the black asp, putting it to her mistress body. It didn’t need prodding to do what was part of its nature to do. Iras pressed the asp to her own bosom and it once again instinctively lashed out. Iras’ grasp of the asp loosened as her body crumpled over the end of the bed. Charmion quickly reached for the asp and drew it to herself. It accomplished its task and slithered away.

Charmion cradled her mistress’ head on her lap. She smoothed Cleopatra’s hair as she reached for the crown to place it on her Queen’s head. She must go into the afterlife in all her splendor. The doors swung open as Charmion finished adjusting the crown on her mistress’ head. Her dying thoughts were filled with images of her beloved Menotho and his last words, “Charmion, don’t go.”
As she slumped forward over Cleopatra’s dead body, Charmion whispered, “Farewell, my love.”

Word Count: 3,024