Killing Pythagoras (Mediterranean Prize Winner 2015) (12 page)

CHAPTER 25

April 19
th
, 510 B.C.

Under the portico at the gymnasium, the five candidates to the succession were seated in front of Pythagoras. The venerable master was telling them about the traits that an intellectual and political leader should possess, and how to develop them.

Daaruk closed his eyes as if concentrating on his master’s words, but actually turned his attention from Pythagoras to his colleagues. Orestes was behind him. Several times, Daaruk had felt his eyes boring into his back and he could feel them again now. Maybe Orestes was looking at him because Daaruk had caught him unawares that morning talking secretly to Akenon. Orestes had become very nervous when he realized he was being observed.

Daaruk kept his eyes closed and focused more intensely on his colleague.

Orestes, what are you plotting?

“Is that the mysterious
tetraktys
?” asked Akenon in surprise. “A triangle made of dots?”

“It’s that and much more,” replied Ariadne, putting the tablet on the table. “You have to get used to looking beyond what your eyes see or you’ll never understand a Pythagorean.”

Akenon felt he had spoken too soon and waited for her to continue.

“The
tetraktys
is used to refer to my father. He’s often called “the inventor of the
tetraktys
”. It’s so important, it has become one of the symbols of the School, like the pentacle, which we’ll talk about in due course.

“Numbers are very important to us, as you know. Especially the first ones, which are represented graphically in the
tetraktys
. But the
tetraktys
is sacred above all because it demonstrates the laws on which musical composition is based.”

She interrupted her explanation and looked at Akenon, hesitating. She was entering the part of the Pythagorean teachings that she, too, considered a secret to be protected. She studied Akenon’s look, then decided to continue.

“Akenon, you must keep secret everything I reveal to you, always.”

She had become very serious. For an instant, Akenon glimpsed Pythagoras’ majesty and solemnity in her.

“I will,” he affirmed, a little self-conscious.

“Very well.” Ariadne paused to organize her thoughts. “I suppose you know that in a stringed instrument, the shorter strings produce higher pitched notes than the longer strings.”

“Yes, I know,” said Akenon, listening very closely, waiting to hear something more complex than that.

“Right. Well, a long time ago, my father made a musical instrument that allows you to shorten or lengthen the strings as required. With it, he proved that the relationship of beauty or harmony between two notes is strictly proportional to the length of the string producing those sounds. He demonstrated that there is perfect harmony between the note produced by one string and that produced by a string half its length, or double its length. As you can see, the ratio, or proportion, between the strings is represented in the first two lines of the
tetraktys
.” She pointed to them with the wooden stylus. “It’s the ratio between one and two. The other most beautiful harmonies are created with the most basic ratios we can make between adjacent lines in the
tetraktys
. These ratios exist between a string of two units in length and another of three units, and between one of three and one of four.”

Looking at Akenon, she lightly tapped the wax tablet where she had drawn the
tetraktys
.

“This harmony, Akenon, will exist as long as the strings maintain those ratios between them,” she said with a mysterious twinkle in her green eyes. “It’s not just an isolated case—for example, if one string is ten fingers long and another twenty. It’s a constant, the exact and eternal law on which music is based. Perfect!”

Akenon was surprised, both by what Ariadne had revealed to him—and which he wasn’t sure he fully understood—and by her passion. The young woman’s breathing had quickened, and her voice had acquired a particular intensity. Suddenly he felt a new impulse toward her, different, less physical than when he had first met her. It was more like a kind of admiration.

“What I’ve told you, though only superficially,” Ariadne went on, “allows us to glimpse two transcendental principles. One is that at least some of the processes in the universe are governed by exact laws that lie within our scope to discover. Maybe you’re aware of the absolute regularity of the movements of the sun, the moon and the tides…” Akenon nodded. He knew a couple of astronomers in Carthage who loved talking about their work, even if they hadn’t been asked. “The second thing we see is that we’re opening unknown doors to knowledge and control over the laws of nature. The power that control can afford is unimaginable.” Ariadne looked at him carefully, and Akenon knew she was about to mention something she considered key. “Power is one of the main reasons people kill: to gain power and eliminate those who have it. And my father, Akenon, is the most powerful man of all,” she tapped her head lightly, “and is also the person who decides who else has access to that power.”

There was a silence. Up to that point, Akenon had been standing, but now he sat on the edge of the table. He could see that she had made only a few superficial comments on Pythagoreanism to him, and even so, he’d have to reflect slowly on what he’d heard to understand it. On the other hand, the last thing she had said about power…

“Are you saying you fear someone will try to murder your father? Do you think Cleomenides’ death was the consequence of a failed attempt on your father’s life?”

“I don’t know, but I fear for his life. What I’m saying is that here, knowledge could be a prime motive. That’s something the police in Croton don’t understand, but that you must understand or you’ll never solve this case.”

Akenon made a mental note of this and then tried to lighten the dramatic atmosphere.

“I didn’t know being a sage was such a dangerous profession.”

“Not a sage, a
philosopher
.”

“A what?”

“My father invented the term
philosopher
. It means a lover of wisdom, as opposed to one who merely possesses wisdom, which is what a sage is.
Philosopher
is a more dynamic and humble term. It implies a search that never ends, very apt when we’re talking about knowledge.”

“Then your father is Pythagoras the philosopher.” Akenon smiled.

Ariadne returned his smile.

That night, Ariadne wasn’t the only one thinking of Akenon.

The Egyptian is dangerous. I have to deal with this situation as soon as possible.

For a moment, he enjoyed the thought of sneaking into Akenon’s room in the middle of the night and slitting his throat with a knife. He tingled with pleasure at the thought of Akenon drowning in his own blood, unable to call for help…but it wasn’t a viable plan.

Too risky. The Egyptian is strong and well trained. I mustn’t underestimate him
.

He had thought of many possible ways of carrying out his main objective. However, they were all thwarted by Akenon’s presence.

Cleomenides was easy, but now I’ve lost the element of surprise
.

He closed his eyes and concentrated. Very gradually, a cruel, determined smile spread across his lips.

Obstacles make the hunt all the more interesting. There’s no way I can fail.

CHAPTER 26

April 22
nd
, 510 B.C.

Pythagoras said nothing as he listened to Akenon’s words.

They were with Ariadne at the summit of the hill behind the compound. Half an hour before dawn they had started their ascent. Five hundred yards below, they could make out the rectangular perimeter of hedges surrounding the buildings and communal gardens. From their lofty perch, the path leading to the imposing gymnasium was clearly identifiable, as were the columns that surrounded it like an enormous temple. Beyond the gymnasium, the path continued until it merged with the city limits of Croton. On the other side of the sprawling city, the calm sea stretched to the horizon, where the rising sun painted the morning vermillion. A mantle of clouds covered the sky as if ready to unleash a downpour of blood. High on the hill, the light of dawn turned Pythagoras into a beacon, his incandescent hair and beard blazing.

“The poison used to murder Cleomenides was mandrake,” Akenon affirmed. “The police were right about that. To be exact, it was a concentrated extract of white mandrake root. I applied several reagents to the residue in the goblet, and there’s no doubt as to what it was.”

“That type of poison is more common in Egypt,” Ariadne intervened, “but anyone with the right knowledge could prepare it here. It’s not particularly unusual, so that’s not a very valuable clue.”

Pythagoras had asked Akenon to update him on the situation after the first three days of the investigation. Ariadne’s presence at the meeting surprised him, but when he saw that each contributed to the explanations, he realized his daughter had gone beyond simply helping Akenon to understand the brotherhood and its doctrine. She had become fully involved in the case, which he suspected she would have wanted to do but thought Akenon would not have allowed.

He couldn’t help smiling.
Ariadne always manages to get her own way
.

He turned his face to the dawn rays for a few more minutes, then watched the Egyptian, remembering the moment he had arrived at the community. Although Akenon had tried to disguise it, Pythagoras had seen he was attracted to Ariadne. More than he himself realized.

I don’t know what she feels, though
, he thought, watching her with curiosity. Pythagoras could see into the deepest recesses of people’s minds by observing the subtle qualities and inflections of their voices, their laughter, or their gaze. Nevertheless, Ariadne possessed the skills of an advanced master, and it was difficult to fathom her innermost thoughts.

“The clearest fact so far is the poison,” Akenon went on. “There’s another fact that you had already anticipated, and which isn’t good news: we can be reasonably certain that Cleomenides wasn’t the murderer’s main target. No one from inside or outside the community has said a word against him. They haven’t even been able to mention any enemy he might have had. I’ve also spoken to Eritrius, the custodian, to find out who benefited materially from Cleomenides’ death. He owned a considerable amount of silver and two small properties. His will states very clearly that everything is to become the property of the community.”

Pythagoras nodded. Resident disciples who didn’t have children usually made their wills in favor of the brotherhood.

Akenon adopted a more serious tone.

“If Cleomenides, as it would seem, wasn’t the murderer’s main target, I’m afraid his death might be just the first step in a much broader criminal plan.”

They began to descend the hill. The reddish tinge of dawn reflected in the long white linen tunics Ariadne and Pythagoras wore had faded to a pale orange. Akenon wore a sleeveless leather tunic and was regretting not having worn something warmer.

Ariadne turned to her father and mentioned something she and Akenon had spoken about the day before.

“Given the freedom of movement in the community, anyone could have put the poison in the goblet. We can’t dismiss the theory that the murderer may not have cared which of you died, since the poisoned goblet was placed in the Temple of the Muses before any of you got there. Anyone could have drunk from it.”

Pythagoras had already considered that.

“I don’t think it was a random murder,” he replied. “The usual procedure is for the goblets to be prepared before the meetings, and Cleomenides always sat on my right. Most probably, whoever put the poison in the goblet knew who would be drinking from it.”

“Everything seems to point to the murderer knowing the community well,” said Akenon, “or that he’s from outside but has someone inside working on his behalf. My main hypothesis is that Cleomenides was murdered because you were going to appoint him as your successor, which leads us to surmise that the attack is against you, or against the brotherhood as a whole.”

Pythagoras’ face remained calm, but a painful knot had just appeared in his stomach. It happened to him every time he thought Cleomenides might have been murdered as an indirect attack against him.

Ariadne picked up where Akenon left off.

“We’ve also been asking for opinions on possible culprits. Cylon is the one most frequently mentioned, but there are many other possibilities, some of which we think are worth considering.”

She looked at Akenon, unsure of whether to continue.
Maybe I should let him outline the situation
.

Akenon saw her hesitate, and encouraged her with a nod to continue.

“Political ambition is one of the most likely motives,” Ariadne went on. “The community in Croton is the head of the Pythagorean communities you’ve founded in recent years all over Magna Graecia. We can’t ignore the fact that the leader of one of them might have gone astray and may be thinking of breaking away from the community once you’re gone. By eliminating your candidates, he can make sure there won’t be a strong leader to keep the communities united.”

Watching the ground so as not to trip on rocks or roots, Pythagoras thought about the disciples he had at the helm of each community. He dwelled for a moment on Thelauges, his twenty-seven-year-old son who led the small community in Catania. He had initially wondered whether to send him, thinking he was perhaps too young for so much responsibility.

It has been six months since I visited Catania; and they haven’t sent envoys either…

Akenon interrupted his thoughts.

“The political power you hold just by being head of all the communities is considerable, but the power you have by indirectly leading the governments of so many cities is immense. Every day I spend in Magna Graecia I’m more amazed. You must have political rivals by the thousand inside and outside Magna Graecia. Though you govern from the sidelines, it doesn’t mean you’re not one of the most powerful men in the world. I’d say even King Darius of Persia sees you potentially as one of his most dangerous rivals. The governments under your control rule over more than a million people!”

Troubled, Pythagoras shook his head. He had been dealing with this dilemma for a long time. Dear gods, his doctrine was about morality, understanding the laws of nature, attempting to help individuals and communities grow spiritually. He wasn’t interested in accumulating power. His aim was to aid progress, spread the truth, exalt wisdom and study, justice, peace…

But I mustn’t fool myself
.

There was no denying he had accumulated enormous material power. Croton and Sybaris alone had a joint population of almost half a million. Twice that many populated the cities whose governments were loyal to him. And some of those cities had significant military strength. His goal would never be to attack, but the neighboring cities probably weren’t as sure about that as he was.

Many must consider me their most dangerous neighbor
, he mused sadly.

He continued down the hillside, deep in thought. The political motive was a strong one, especially if anyone had foreseen, as he had, what could happen to the brotherhood in the decades to come. His successor could nurture the small communities that were already starting to bear fruit in continental Greece, as well as among the Etruscans and the Romans. Their only military rival would be Persia, and he was sure it, too, would eventually be converted. In the end, that would mean…

Enough. This is no time for dreaming
. What mattered now was that the present situation and his plans for the future clashed with the ambitions of many leaders.

Again, Akenon intervened.

“Knowledge is another possible motive. I don’t understand the…,” he waved his hands, trying to find the right words,
“superior faculties
that your teachings can confer, and I’m not familiar with the knowledge your secret oaths protect. What I do know is that being admitted to the School is the highest aspiration of many, and some who have been refused, like Cylon, will hold it against you for the rest of their lives. All the more reason that someone who has had access to part of that knowledge, and is hungry for more, might try to achieve it by any means if he can’t through the channels you’ve established.”

“You are referring to the candidates to my succession,” said Pythagoras.

“We also have to consider them as suspects, of course. Don’t forget, they were the people closest to Cleomenides, they were present when the crime was committed, and they could have a motive—too many factors for us to overlook them. On the other hand, Ariadne has persuaded me not to question them on my own.”

“And I can’t do it either,” she said. “Their skills are far superior to mine. They could as easily fool me as they could Akenon. The tiny glimpse into their minds I might be able to manage could be deceptive.”

Without slowing his pace, Pythagoras considered what they were asking him. Although Ariadne’s skills were better than she claimed, whether out of modesty or because she didn’t realize how far she had progressed, the fact was that his daughter couldn’t compete with the candidates. Denying access to innermost thoughts was relatively simple for initiates who had reached an advanced level. Not even he could read what was in their minds if they didn’t cooperate, though if one refused, it would be evident.

He stopped and turned to Akenon. The stillness of the woods lent special resonance to his words.

“Tonight you will come to my house for dinner.” His face was grave and determined. “I’ll invite all the candidates too. If one of them is harboring a dark secret, I assure you it will be revealed tonight.”