A Fort City, Ancient Egypt - 48 BC
From above, the city sat between the green Nile lands and the harsh desert. To the west, the river flowed through emerald fields and marshy deltas, with papyrus plants and date palms swaying in the wind. To the east, golden sand dunes stretched forever, shifting with the wind as if the desert were alive and trying to take over.
The city’s mud-brick walls stood tall, their baked surfaces shining under the midday sun. Soldiers in linen kilts and bronze helmets walked the walls, their spears ready as they scanned the horizon. A watchtower rose above the main gate, watching over everything as flags with the queen’s seal waved in the dry wind.
At the gates, the place buzzed with life. Merchants unloaded their goods: fine pottery, colored fabrics, and rare spices. Traders from far away led camels carrying copper and fancy perfumes. Tax collectors, dressed in clean robes, watched everything, writing on wooden tablets to keep track of goods entering the city. Many languages mingled in the air, Greek, Aramaic, Egyptian, and Arabian, creating a noisy mix of trade and commerce.
There was worry in the air. The streets were busy with people getting ready: blacksmiths making swords, arrow makers bundling arrows, and scribes delivering scrolls with orders. Despite all this activity, no enemy army had been spotted.
***
Inside the palace, Egyptian columns with lotus flower tops held up high, curved ceilings. Greek patterns of laurel leaves wound along the edges of white stone walls. The floors were made of smooth limestone covered with rich Persian carpets. Oil lamps gave off a soft light that danced on bronze statues of gods from both Egypt and Greece—Horus and Apollo standing next to each other.
Silk curtains in blue and gold framed big windows looking out over the city. Servants moved about carrying trays of pomegranates, figs, and sweet wine. Despite the grandeur, the air felt heavy with unspoken fear.
***
A half-circle of couches surrounded the center stage, where musicians played a sad tune of the Nile. The music was slow and made you think of the river’s endless flow. About twenty court members, generals, and advisors sat or lay back. Their faces showed little emotion, although some displayed small smiles.
Among them, a young woman sat near the front. She was petite, with dark hair styled beautifully and sharp, watchful eyes. Her face seemed calm, like it was made of stone, but her lips gave her away. They moved slightly to the music as if she wanted to hum along. Her hands rested in her lap, fingers curled as if stopping herself from tapping to the beat.
She looked calm, although she felt the same worry everyone in the room felt and hid it well. Showing weakness now would be dangerous; she was in exile, forced out of Alexandria by her younger brother.
As the music grew louder, her lips formed a tiny smile, showing a bit of enjoyment before she quickly hid it. The music ended, and people clapped, some just to be polite, others because they genuinely enjoyed it.
***
The leading flute player, dressed in bright colors that stood out in the serious room, stepped forward. He took off his cap, making the bells jingle, and bowed low. He spoke clearly and boldly.
“Your Highness, may I ask for Fool’s Counsel?”
The clapping stopped, replaced by confused whispers. The queen, sitting proudly among her advisors, stiffened a bit, looking surprised. Around her, court members whispered behind their hands while servants looked at each other, puzzled.
A young servant turned toward Philo, the queen’s main advisor, and asked. “What is Fool’s Counsel?”
Philo spoke. “Fool’s Counsel is an old tradition, both here in Egypt and in Greece. It allows a musician or actor, someone not usually considered important, to share knowledge they believe matters in politics. It’s rare and is only used in the most serious times. When used, however…” He paused to let everyone feel the importance of this.
“It has been known to change history.”
The whispers grew louder, but Philo silenced them with a sharp look. “Remember this,” he continued. “Fool’s Counsel is for the queen’s ears and eyes only.”
Everyone looked back at the jester. The queen watched him with caution. Slowly, she nodded, allowing him to speak.
Cleopatra waved her hand sharply. The court members, generals, and servants went silent for a moment, unsure, before standing up and walking out in unwilling silence. Their sandals scraped against the stone floor, and whispers hung in the air as they left through the heavy double doors.
Only Cleopatra, Philo, and two guards remained.
“For the queen’s ears only,” the jester said.
Philo didn’t move. The guards stood still, their hands on their swords. Cleopatra didn’t send them away right away. Instead, she began to walk around the jester, her golden robes brushing the floor as she looked him over carefully.
The jester shifted uncomfortably under her gaze. Cleopatra’s lips curled into a smile, and she finally waved the others away.
“You heard him,” she said. “Leave us.”
Philo finally left; the look on Cleopatra’s face left no room to argue. The advisor and the guards left quickly, looking worried. The heavy doors shut behind them with a hollow thud.
Now, it was just Cleopatra and the jester.
***
“Would you like to see the future?” the jester asked.
Cleopatra turned towards him, looking both curious and doubtful. “If knowing the future would help me win, then of course, yes.”
“I might be able to do that,” the jester said, “or it might ruin everything. But I can show you the future.”
Cleopatra’s face hardened. “I don’t believe you.”
“I can show you what will happen next week, next year, in a hundred years, or even two thousand years,” the jester said, spreading his arms wide.
Cleopatra scoffed. “Nobody can do that. Even our wisest men don’t make such wild claims. I thought you had a message for me from Caesar. I wrote to him, but he hasn’t answered.”
“I have something better than a message from Caesar,” the jester said.
“You have nothing,” Cleopatra shot back, turning away. “Don’t waste my time.”
The jester reached into his colorful coat and pulled out a small, black object—smooth and flat like nothing Cleopatra had ever seen. He pressed a button.
The room filled with a low hum. Light poured out, swirling and growing until it formed an oval doorway, shimmering and alive. Its surface rippled like silver water, casting a strange light on the walls and floor.
Cleopatra froze, her jaw dropped with shock. “In Osiris’ name,” she said.
The double doors burst open, and Philo rushed back inside. “In Osiris’ name, what is that?” he repeated.
The jester turned to him, his grin returning. “A doorway to the future.”
Cleopatra stepped closer, slowly and carefully, as if hypnotized by the portal’s light. She turned to the jester. “What trick is this?”
“No trick,” the jester replied. “Come with me, Your Highness, and learn your destiny.”
For a moment, she had to admit to herself that she was desperate. She remembered that she had been thrown out of Alexandria and had no army.
“What do I have to lose?” she thought to herself.
Philo cried out, “Don’t do it, Your Highness. You don’t know what this is. This could be a trap-”
Cleopatra raised her hand to silence him. She turned back to the jester, who held out his hand to her. He was both smiling and serious.
“You want to rule the world, don’t you?” he said. “This is your chance to see what lies ahead. To see what could be.”
Cleopatra stared at his hand. Then, slowly, she took the jester’s hand.
Philo gasped. “Don’t do it, Your Highness!”
Cleopatra turned her head to him with a small smile. “Don’t just stand there, Philo. Come on.”
Philo paused for a moment, but when Cleopatra and the jester stepped toward the portal, he made his choice. He gathered his courage, ran after them, and jumped through just as the portal’s edges began to shimmer and close.
The hum faded, the light went out, and the room fell into silence.
***
The once-lively room was now empty, its beauty a reminder of what had been. The couches were still scattered with cushions, some messed up by people leaving in a hurry. A tray of pomegranates and figs sat abandoned.
The flute, dropped by the jester, lay in the center of the room.
The silence was vastly different from the music, laughter, and whispers that had previously filled the space. The air felt heavy with an energy that had nowhere to go.
For a moment, it seemed as if the gods of Egypt themselves were holding their breath, watching the place where Cleopatra, Philo, and the jester had vanished. All was quiet.
Please don’t buy me a coffee! Buy the book… spoiler alert, it’s the same price as a coffee.
What you have just read is Chapter Two from John Bosworth’s debut novel Cleo and Bess: Rivals in Time. It’s an exciting adventure book for kids of all ages that imagines what would have happened if two of history’s most famous women, Cleopatra VII of Egypt and Elizabeth I of England, had ever met.
Chapter Three will follow on 13th September.
This substack is a companion to the novel. Here you can find all the information and educational material you will ever need on the world of Cleo & Bess, Ancient Egypt, and the Tudors.
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