Djet looked on in wonder. The others gave a cheer. Even Artemon applauded. Cheelba raised his head and released a mighty roar.
Thus ended the day I became a member of the Cuckoo’s Gang.
In the days that followed, I fell into the routine of the Cuckoo’s Nest, insofar as a lair of outlaws and vagabonds can be said to have a routine. I confess that I took part in some petty acts of brigandage, but by the grace of Fortuna I was able to tread a precarious middle path: I neither caused injury to any innocent victim, nor did I break my oath of loyalty to my fellow bandits.
With Menkhep and a few of the others, I let down my guard sufficiently to reveal bits and pieces of my true past, such as the fact that I had traveled to all of the Seven Wonders of the World. A man who has seen the Wonders never lacks for an audience, even among criminals.
For the most part, those were miserable days for me, as I pretended to be something I was not and all the while watched and waited, in vain, for an opportunity to rescue Bethesda and escape. Had I been willing to attack and overcome the guard posted outside Bethesda’s hut, I might have liberated her and fled the Cuckoo’s Nest at almost any time, but we wouldn’t have gotten far. Artemon’s interest in Bethesda was too great, and his reach was too vast.
During this watchful period, I noticed that visitors arrived in the Cuckoo’s Nest almost every day. From their hurried and secretive manner, I presumed these men were messengers, and some of them were, but others, as I was later to realize, would better be described as co-conspirators. On some days, two or three such visitors arrived. These men were escorted straight to Artemon, with whom they conferred in private. These visitors usually stayed no more than a night. Often they left only hours after they arrived, rushing off as if Artemon had charged them with some urgent mission.
I asked Menkhep if all this coming and going and secretive communication was customary. He shook his head. “Artemon’s always been a planner and a schemer, always thinking ahead, but this is different. There’s something big afoot. Just what it is, I don’t know. The biggest raid ever, some of the men say-a raid so big, it’ll change everything.”
“What could it be?”
“Only Artemon knows. When he’s ready, he’ll tell us.”
I felt a prickle of dread. Would I be coerced to take part in some terrible ambush or slaughter? Or would this scheme of Artemon’s so disrupt the regular order of the Cuckoo’s Nest that I might yet have a chance to escape with Bethesda?
One afternoon I caught a glimpse of one of Artemon’s visitors just as the man was boarding a boat at the pier, preparing to leave. I saw only the back of his head, but that was sufficient for me to recognize him. How many men have a white stripe running down the middle of their hair?
The appearance of Lykos the artificer-the member of the Alexandrian mime troupe who took credit for making Melmak look as fat as the king, and for transforming beautiful Axiothea into an old crone-so surprised me that I thought I must be mistaken. I stepped toward the pier, hoping to get a look at his face. But when he turned about in the boat, I skittered back and hid myself. Somehow I realized that if Lykos were to see me the consequence would be disastrous-not for him, but for me.
Menkhep happened to walk by, and saw me skulking. “Playing hide-and-seek with the boy?” he asked.
“Something like that. Did you see that fellow who just sailed off?”
He nodded.
“Another of Artemon’s visitors?”
“Arrived early this morning, before daybreak. He’s been in Artemon’s hut all day. The two of them must have had plenty to talk about! Now he’s off in a rush. Heading back to Alexandria, I suppose.”
“Alexandria?”
“‘My eyes and ears in the capital,’ Artemon calls him. But he might better call the fellow his hands-hands that make such clever things!”
“What’s his name?”
“He’s called the Jackal.”
“Are you sure?”
“Of course I am. Why do you ask?”
“I thought perhaps I’d seen him before, in Alexandria. But the man I’m thinking of had a different name.”
Menkhep laughed. “You should know by now that the men of the Cuckoo’s Gang go by many names, especially when they’re out in the regular world. Too bad you didn’t get a chance to meet the Jackal while he was here. You could have congratulated him.”
“On what?”
“On doing such a good job with Cheelba’s costume! It fooled you, didn’t it? It was the Jackal who came up with that idea. He concocted the dyes and fabricated the false stinger and the tusk and all the rest. Very clever at making one thing look like another, that fellow. He specializes in forgeries and disguises.”
“Does he indeed? What about kidnappings?”
Menkhep gave me a shrewd look. “You always seem to know more than you let on, Roman. How could you possibly know that the Jackal was behind the kidnapping of that pretty girl in Metrodora’s hut?”
“Is that why he was here to talk to Artemon, about the ransom we’re still waiting to receive?”
He laughed. “Eager for your share, eh? Yes, that’s one of the things they talked about, I’m sure.”
“Was it the Jackal who brought her here?”
Menkhep shook his head. “No, that was done by other agents of the gang, taking their orders from the Jackal. He himself could never be seen by the girl, because the two of them know each other.”
“I see! So if this girl-Axiothea, she’s called? — were ever to see the Jackal, and realize he was behind her kidnapping, that would compromise his secret identity in Alexandria. Therefore, since the time she was kidnapped, she has never laid eyes on the Jackal-and he has never laid eyes on her.”
“Exactly. I do believe you’re beginning to get the hang of this bandit business, Pecunius. Though sometimes I think you might be too curious for your own good.”
I left him and went into my hut, needing to be alone and think.
The last time I had seen Lykos was the day I came upon Melmak in the tavern in Alexandria. Lykos had joined us toward the end of our conversation. “What news of Axiothea?” he had asked Melmak, sounding utterly innocent. The man scoffed at actors, but he himself was quite a performer. He had fooled not just me, but Melmak, as well.
What if Lykos had seen me during his brief visit to the Cuckoo’s Nest, and had recognized me? Just as his presence there was no coincidence, so he surely would have realized that my presence was no coincidence, either.
I recalled our last, brief exchange in the tavern in Alexandria. Lykos had said, “You have that lovely slave girl-what’s her name?”
And I had whispered, “Bethesda.”
And Melmak had said, “Only she’s gone missing, too.”
I could imagine Lykos understanding the situation in a flash, realizing that the wrong girl had been kidnapped-a suspicion he could easily confirm by taking a look at the false Axiothea. Lykos would have told Artemon, and my purpose in coming would have been exposed. I would have been dead before nightfall.
XXIX
From that day on, I lived in fear that Lykos might come back. But soon enough, other events swept aside that worry, for at last came the day of Artemon’s announcement.
Everyone was called to the clearing. An air of excitement hung over the assembly. This was the day everyone had been waiting for. When Artemon mounted the dais and raised his hands, we all stopped talking and fell silent.
“Men of the Cuckoo’s Nest, a great change is coming. We can do nothing to stop it. But we do have a choice to make. We can either be destroyed by this change-or find a way to profit from it.”
Artemon let this sink in for a moment, then raised his voice above the excited murmurs set off by his comments.