Ancient World 02 - Raiders of the Nile (34 page)

By the last light of day, the men made quick work of loading the cargo from the long boats onto the
Medusa.
When that was done, the boats were tied together and set aflame. As the fiery chain of boats drifted away from us, the watery mirror created the illusion that the sea itself was afire. Hissing clouds of steam wreathed the spectacle as the flames died down and flickered out. After that, the night seemed very dark.

Djet found a blanket. I located an empty spot on the deck large enough for the two of us to lie down. From the far end of the ship I heard a low rumble—Cheelba, quietly roaring in his dreams. The slight rocking of the ship quickly lulled me to sleep.

*   *   *

The next morning, the
Medusa
made a slow circuit of the inlet while Captain Mavrogenis acquainted the newcomers with the essential details of the ship’s workings. His manner was brusque, but he seemed less threatening by the light of day.

It became apparent that some of the men had never been aboard a sailing ship—a few looked quietly terrified—but the great majority seemed elated that we were on the verge of embarking, and gave a cheer when the
Medusa
at last sailed out of the mouth of the inlet and onto the open sea.

We proceeded in a westerly direction, keeping just within sight of the coast to our left. An unfavorable wind slowed our progress and gave the rowers steady work. I took a couple of turns at the oars. As Artemon had promised, at day’s end I had a fresh blister on each thumb.

We cast anchor within swimming distance of shore, not far from a treacherous reef that ran along the coast. Other ships, whose captains would know of the reef, could be counted on to keep their distance. As the light faded, I saw a bright point of light to the southwest. The light was too low on the horizon to be a star. It had to be the beacon of the Pharos Lighthouse.

Alexandria! The city was so near that a Titan could have reached out and touched it. Only a few miles of water and sand separated me from the place I most wanted to be, if I could be there with Bethesda. I ached at the nearness of both—the city within sight, and Bethesda almost within reach, separated from me by the walls of the cabin and the will of Artemon.

The evening was balmy and clear. The men made themselves comfortable wherever they could on the crowded deck. Food and drink were passed among us. When Artemon mounted the top of the cabin at the stern, with Cheelba beside him, the men fell silent and gave him their undivided attention.

Speaking clearly in a matter-of-fact voice, Artemon informed us that on the next day we would sail into the harbor of Alexandria. There, after the
Medusa
pulled alongside one of the deep-water loading docks, most of us would disembark. Provided that preparations in the city had been carried out to Artemon’s satisfaction—and he had no reason to think they had not—a raiding party would proceed to the Tomb of Alexander. There we would steal the golden sarcophagus of Alexander, transport it to the harbor, load it onto the
Medusa,
and set sail before nightfall.

The announcement was so astonishing that no one said a word. Wide-eyed and gaping, the men looked at each other, wondering if they had heard correctly.

I stood. Artemon nodded, inviting me to speak.

“Will we have time to do a bit of shopping while we’re in the city?” I said.

After a pause, the silence was broken by peals of laughter so loud I feared they might hear us in Alexandria.

As the men gradually quieted down, Artemon gave me a wry look and shook his head. He acknowledged my joke and threw it back at me.

“We shall be making a rather hasty exit from the harbor, Pecunius. I’m afraid you won’t have time to haggle with the local merchants.”

My facetious question emboldened the others to speak. Ujeb stood up. “Surely we’re to be armed. What will we do for weapons?”

“There’s a cache of weapons here aboard the
Medusa,
” said Artemon. “Every man who goes on the raiding party will be properly outfitted.”

“We’re to fight King Ptolemy’s soldiers?” said another. “I thought we left the Cuckoo’s Nest to avoid such a battle.”

“Ah, but the situation in Alexandria is not what you might expect,” said Artemon. “Our spies have been keeping a close watch on the city; you’ve seen the messengers arriving with reports. So many of the king’s soldiers have deserted him that the army can no longer maintain order. People loot shops and riot in the streets, and there’s no one to stop them. Most of the soldiers who remain have withdrawn to the palace, where they’ve put up barricades. The royal tombs have been locked up tight and closed to visitors, but they’re only lightly guarded. All those tombs contain fabulous treasures, but none is greater than the golden sarcophagus of Alexander. By weight and volume, it’s the largest mass of gold in all of Alexandria. And it’s ours for the taking.”

“But how are we to break into the tomb?” a man asked. “And how are we to carry such a heavy thing all the way to the ship?”

“We will arrive at the tomb with a battering ram. We will also have hoists to lift and move the sarcophagus, especially suited for the purpose, and a wagon strong enough and large enough for the load.”

“Maybe there won’t be enough soldiers to stop us,” I said, “but what if the common citizens get wind of what we’re up to? The sarcophagus of Alexander is their greatest treasure. A couple of angry shopkeepers shaking their fists won’t stop us, but a bloodthirsty mob might.”

“You make a good point, Pecunius. We need a distraction. And we shall have one. Shortly after the
Medusa
arrives in the harbor, some of our confederates will instigate a riot at the far corner of the city, near the Temple of Serapis. A child will pretend to be maimed and blame the king’s soldiers, and our men will whip up the crowd until there’s a full-scale riot. That should attract all the more violent types—the arsonists and looters and head-bashers. It should also occupy any soldiers brave enough or foolish enough to be out on the streets trying to keep order.”

“But surely people will notice if we go carting a golden sarcophagus through the streets,” I said.

“The sarcophagus will be placed in a wooden crate with its lid nailed shut. No one who happens to see us will know what’s inside.”

Artemon gave me a steady look, as if challenging me to think of some other objection. He took a deep breath. “Every detail has been thought through. Every preparation has been made. You’ll understand now why I couldn’t breathe a word about this raid before today, and why all the planning had to be done in secret. I couldn’t take the chance that some traitor among us might warn King Ptolemy, or that some drunken braggart might give us away. Every messenger and every one of our confederates in Alexandria was told only what he needed to be told. Even the men who’re to meet us with the battering ram and the hoists don’t know what they’re to be used for. Now all that remains is for us to carry out the task. And tomorrow, after it’s done, and we sail out of the harbor with the golden sarcophagus, we shall not merely be rich men. We shall be the stuff of legend.”

I looked at the men around me. Their eyes glittered at the ideas Artemon had put in their heads.

I cleared my throat. “Even if everything goes according to plan, surely some blood will be shed.”

“Their blood, not ours!” shouted Ujeb. He made a show of hooting and pumping his arms, and many of the others joined him.

Artemon quieted them. “Pecunius is right. It’s possible that some of us may be wounded. Some of us may even be killed, or captured by the king’s men, from whom we can expect no mercy. It is my belief that we will encounter almost no opposition, and be able to carry out the raid with very little bloodshed. Still, there’s always a chance that something may go wrong. We may have to fight our way to the tomb, and then fight our way back to the ship.”

“No man here is afraid of a little fight!” shouted Ujeb.

“Except you, Ujeb!” quipped Menkhep, to hoots of laughter.

Artemon waited for the men to quiet down. “If any man thinks the odds against us are too great, he’s free to leave us. If that is your choice, come tomorrow, when the ship arrives in port, gather up whatever you can carry of your possessions. You’ll have to wait on board until the raiding party returns—we can’t have anyone running to the palace or stirring up trouble. But once the men have boarded and the sarcophagus is loaded, you’ll be free to get off the ship and go your own way, while the rest of us sail off. You’ll no longer be a member of the Cuckoo’s Gang, and you’ll have given up your share of the world’s greatest treasure, but no man here will hold a grudge against you. I’ll call you a fool, but I won’t call you a coward.”

“Abandon the Cuckoo’s Gang?” said Ujeb. “On the day of our greatest adventure? That would be like walking out of a mime show just before the dancing girls come on! Ha!”

In the sea of faces around me, I saw a few men who looked as if they might be pondering Artemon’s offer to leave the gang, but the vast majority shared Ujeb’s enthusiasm.

“And then what, Artemon?” I shouted. “Where do we go after Alexandria?”

“I can’t reveal that now, Pecunius, for obvious reasons. What if some among us choose to leave? What if one of us is captured? No man here would willingly betray his comrades, but we can’t take the chance. Until the raid is over, our destination must remain a secret.”

I nodded. “Fair enough. But won’t the king’s ships follow us? And what makes you think they’ll allow a ship full of bandits to enter the harbor in the first place?”

“Like the rest of Alexandria, the harbor is virtually unmanned. It’s all the king can do to keep the Pharos Lighthouse operating. We’ll be given permission to enter and to dock. Arrangements have been made.”

“Bribes have been paid, you mean!” Ujeb laughed.

Artemon smiled. “And further arrangements have been made to ensure that no one pursues us when we leave.”

“More bribes!” said Ujeb.

“What if some reckless captain of the royal fleet decides to pursue us anyway?” I said.

Artemon crossed his arms. “If that happens, we’ll simply have to outrun them, all the way to—”

He drew a sharp breath and bit his tongue, but he was only pretending to make a near-slip, teasing us with the mystery of our destination. For now, the men could let their imaginations run wild.

*   *   *

That night, I tossed and turned on the deck, unable to sleep. Many of the others were also wakeful. I overheard their whispers all around me. No one spoke of all that might go wrong. Instead they talked about what would happen after the raid, when we sailed out of Alexandria and into legend.

This was one version of a possible future: with a fortune in gold and a company of loyal men, Artemon would make himself king of lawless Crete, then sail with an army of pirates and outlaws to Cyrene, drive out the Romans, and put himself on the throne that should rightfully have been his. And then, master of Crete and Cyrene, the Cuckoo’s Child would take Egypt as well, and then ally himself with that other audacious leader, King Mithridates of Pontus, and the two of them together would drive the Romans back to Italy and split the world between them.

Hearing such ideas spoken aloud, I bit my tongue and kept silent, thinking there is no notion so outrageous that men will not embrace it.

I found myself staring at the cabin at the stern. Was Bethesda inside, and with her Ismene? Was she asleep or awake? Did she know I was near? Had she been able to hear Artemon’s speech? Did she know we would be in Alexandria tomorrow?

I saw a shadow approach the door of the cabin. By the shape and size, I knew it must be Artemon.

For a long time he stood at the door with his hand on the latch. Why did he hesitate? I couldn’t see his face, which was hidden in darkness. At last he pulled the door open and stepped inside.

My heart pounded. My mind raced. What was happening inside that room? I rose to my feet and was about to make my way across the crowded deck when the cabin door quietly opened and Artemon stepped out, closing it behind him.

He saw me standing amid the sea of blanket-covered men, and gave me a vague wave of acknowledgment. I settled back onto the deck beside Djet.

What if I decided to take no part in the raid the next day, and stayed on the ship instead? Artemon had offered that choice. Might I find a way to rescue Bethesda, and escape with her? It seemed unlikely. Men would be left on board to guard the vessel, and to guard Bethesda, as well. When the raiding party returned, I would be ejected from the ship, cast out of the Cuckoo’s Gang. Off they would sail to an unknown destination, taking Bethesda with them.

The possibility that I might come full circle, all the way back to Alexandria, only to lose Bethesda again, and forever, was intolerable.

What would happen if I did take part in the raid? Presuming I survived and returned to the ship, what opportunity would I have to rescue Bethesda? I envisioned a mad scenario: just as the
Medusa
sailed out of the harbor, past the Pharos Lighthouse, I would rush to the cabin, seize Bethesda, and pull her onto the deck. Holding her tight, I would leap into the water. While Artemon shook his fist and the
Medusa
sailed away, Bethesda and I would head for shore.

There was one problem: I could not swim. Would Bethesda be able to get the two of us to the Pharos Island alive? I imagined us dragging ourselves ashore, gasping and bedraggled but free at last.

And if that far-fetched scenario proved impossible, what then? Bethesda and I would sail off with the others, more completely in the power of Artemon than ever. That prospect, too, was intolerable.

It seemed to me that my only hope was Ismene. She had shown sympathy for my plight. She had helped me to survive the initiation. What plans did she have for herself? What plans, if any, did she have for Bethesda, and for me?

I stared at the starry sky above, and uttered a prayer to Fortuna that a witch might save me.

XXXIII

Just before sunrise, I was awakened by a woman’s scream.