“Yes?”
“She reminds me a little of Artemon himself. She even looks a bit like him. She’s much shorter, of course, but even so, when I first saw them side by side, I might have taken them for brother and sister-the same dark hair, the same fine features. They do make a lovely couple.”
If only Artemon could love her like a sister! I thought.
Suddenly I yawned, and realized I was sleepy again. I left Menkhep and returned to my blanket.
I thought about all I had seen that day, and what I had witnessed of Artemon’s abilities as a leader of men.
The journey to the inlet had taken place without incident. The interlopers at the shipwreck had been dispatched immediately and without any losses by the Cuckoo’s Gang. The ship had been stripped of its valuables as quickly and thoroughly as anyone could wish. When one of the men violated the common law, Artemon ordered the culprit to be executed on the spot, without so much as a grumble from any man present. At the end of the day we made a clean escape, loaded with spoils. At every turn, Artemon had been in complete control of all that transpired.
His strengths as a leader were indisputable. He seemed to have only one weakness: his desire for Bethesda. As far as I was concerned, that made him the most dangerous man on earth.
XXV
The men who had stayed behind at the Cuckoo’s Nest greeted our return the next day. They stood on the pier and along the shore, cheering as each boat sailed into the lagoon laden with booty. Djet stood at the very end of the pier and waved wildly when he saw me.
When all the boats were moored, the men who had stayed behind were tasked with unloading the booty and carrying it to the clearing next to the roasting pit, while those of us who had gone on the expedition stretched our limbs and rested.
This division of labor helped to spread the work among the men, but it had a purpose beyond that, for in this way everyone in the Cuckoo’s Nest had a chance to see the booty and touch it with his own hands. Thus each man had an idea of what might constitute an equal share when the treasure was divided among us, as happened later that day.
First a meal was prepared and consumed, along with a considerable amount of wine. After everyone’s appetite was sated, the men gathered in a circle.
Artemon gestured to the stacks of treasure in the middle of the clearing. “Look, men of the Cuckoo’s Nest-see how much richer we are today than yesterday!”
The men clapped, hooted, and cheered.
“Every man here did his part,” said Artemon. “Every man here deserves his share.”
There was more raucous cheering.
“The task of disbursing the treasure falls to me. Does any man here doubt my judgment? Does any man doubt my fairness? Does any man challenge me?”
There was only silence, until Menkhep spoke up. “We trust you, Artemon. Now hurry up and get on with it!”
This was met with a round of laughter, and more cheering.
“Very well, then,” said Artemon.
He began with several sacks full of coins. It struck me that the disbursal of these should be simple enough, but because the coins came from many different places and were of various qualities and weights, splitting them up in equal shares was not as simple as I had thought. Among the bandits there were a few men who had worked in counting houses or currency exchanges, and Artemon called upon them to assist him in evaluating and sorting the coins. This procedure took place in full view of anyone who cared to watch, and in the end each man was given as nearly as could be calculated the same share as every other, including Artemon, and myself, for that matter.
Goods that could be consumed, such as the amphorae of wine, were to be shared among the men over time; these were publicly displayed, so that everyone could look forward to the enjoyment in store for them. Goods that would have to be sold to realize their value, such as jewelry and silver vessels, were to be placed in the common treasury, to be dealt with later; these, too, were shown to everyone. As these precious objects were paraded through the clearing, I was reminded a little of the triumphal processions I had seen as a boy in Rome, in which the most fabulous spoils of war were shown off to the people of Rome by their conquering generals.
Artemon himself, to the objection of no one, claimed the few scrolls that had survived the wreckage; these mostly had to do with the ship’s business, though there was also the soggy remnant of a play by Menander. Other goods of a more personal nature, such as clothing, shoes, belts, satchels, coin purses, boxes, knives, lamps, unguents, brushes, and combs, were distributed to the men according to their need for such items, or to those who had been passed over in previous disbursements and were next in line. It appeared that Artemon maintained a ledger to keep track of which men were owed more or less, a wax tablet with markings in some code of his own invention. It seemed not to matter that only he could make sense of this ledger, since all the men appeared to trust his accounting, and the great majority of them were illiterate, anyway.
At the end of that day, every man in the Cuckoo’s Nest had a full stomach and a coin purse fatter than the day before, and went to his hut with some new treasure, no matter how small. Djet was not included in the disbursement of coins, but made out especially well when goods were handed out, for the booty included a number of wooden toys and clothing suitable for a boy his age. Since these were of no use to anyone else, Djet was given the lot.
I myself received a pair of very finely made shoes, which fit me as if the leather had been tailored to my feet. Artemon chose them for me and insisted I take them, noting that my own shoes had grown quite worn and shabby in the course of my travels. I tried not to think of where the shoes had come from, or imagine the fate of the man who had worn them.
“Every man can use a good pair of shoes to protect his feet,” said Artemon, as he handed them to me. “Especially a man about to face his initiation.”
I swallowed a lump in my throat. “When might that be?”
“As soon as tomorrow, if all goes well.”
“And what-” I began to say, for I wanted to know more about this so-called initiation. But I heard a grumble from the man behind me, who was impatient to receive his share of the booty, as were the men behind him. I took my new shoes and moved on.
For the rest of the day, talking to Menkhep and some of the others with whom I was becoming acquainted, I tried to learn more about the initiation. Everyone deflected my questions, some more clumsily than others. Not one of them would give me a clear answer. It became obvious that I was meant to know nothing more than I already knew-only that the ritual might take place the next day, and that it was better done wearing shoes than in bare feet.
That night in our hut, listening to Djet softly snoring, I lay staring at the darkness for a long time. It was not my worries about the initiation that kept me awake. It was an all-consuming desire to see Bethesda.
I had gone to her before. Did I dare to go to her again?
No, I told myself; a second visit would be too dangerous. The first night, the raging storm had allowed me to make the short trip to her hut unnoticed, but tonight the sky was clear and all was quiet. I would surely be seen. Artemon would be apprised of my movements. Disaster would be the result.
And yet, I could think of nothing else. I remembered my previous visit. I recalled every small detail, dwelling on moments of exquisite pleasure, recalling the sight, the sounds, the smell, taste, and touch of her. These recollections did nothing to calm me or quiet my longing. They only increased my agitation.
I did what I could to satisfy myself physically, more than once. Still, I could think of nothing else.
At last, weariness overcame me.