“Oh, I see. I’ll bet she’s lovely! I thought we might get a look at her this morning, but all I saw was a bundle of rags in the mist.”
“Rags?” Menkhep laughed. “The garments she was wearing cost more than you’ll steal in your whole lifetime.”
Ujeb shrugged. “Like I said, I could barely see her. She could have been naked, for all I knew.”
“I’d like to see that!” said one of the men.
This led to a series of lewd comments, each more vulgar than the last. I wriggled nervously, and was relieved when Menkhep spoke up.
“That’s enough of that! The girl is under Artemon’s protection, so there’s no call for such filthy talk.”
“Under Artemon’s protection? Does that mean he’s having her?” said Ujeb.
“Of course not, you buffoon! What a pity Mangobbler didn’t pluck you off the boat and eat you for breakfast.”
Ujeb turned pale. “I meant no offense.”
“Then shut your mouth! No one has touched the girl since the day she arrived, and that includes Artemon. He follows the rules just like the rest of us.”
“She’s been captive a long time, but I’ve heard nothing about a ransom showing up,” said Ujeb.
“These things take time,” said Menkhep, “especially with all of Egypt in such a jumble.”
“Well, if someone shows up at the Cuckoo’s Nest to ransom her now, there’ll be only Mangobbler to take the payment!” said Ujeb. The others laughed.
“Ujeb has a point,” I said quietly. “Maybe Artemon’s given up on the ransom. What will happen to the girl then?”
Menkhep frowned. “Maybe he intends to release her. It all depends on our destination, I suppose.”
“I think we’re headed for Crete,” said one of the men. “Ever since war broke out between Rome and Mithridates, they say there’s no one at all in charge of the island. I’ve heard it’s a pirate’s paradise.”
“It could be Crete,” said another, “but I’m betting on Cyrene.”
“The Romans are in charge of Cyrene,” said Ujeb.
The others glanced in my direction. I kept my mouth shut.
“The loss of Cyrene is the shame of Egypt,” said Ujeb. “The bastard Apion gave it to the Roman bankers without a fight, while King Ptolemy was too busy stuffing his face to notice.”
“Yes, we might be headed for Cyrene,” said Menkhep. “If that happens, a native Latin speaker like our friend Pecunius might be useful to have around. He knows how Romans think.”
Ujeb looked at Menkhep shrewdly. “You always seem to know more than the rest of us. Is it true, what some of the men say about Artemon-that he’s the bastard son of Apion? If that’s so, then why shouldn’t we head for Cyrene, and claim his birthright?”
When Menkhep hesitated, I felt compelled to speak. “Do you really imagine the Cuckoo’s Gang could take on a Roman army?”
“As I understand it,” said Ujeb, “you Romans have your hands full fighting Mithridates, not to mention making war against your own allies in Italy. For all we know, the Romans have pulled out of Cyrene. It’s likely to be easy pickings!”
“It can’t be that simple,” I said. If Ujeb was right, and Artemon was taking us on a mad expedition to claim a kingdom, what would happen to Bethesda and me? A bizarre notion occurred to me: if Artemon dreamed of becoming a king, it followed that he might make Bethesda his queen-which would make me her subject! At that point, the world would truly have turned upside down. But before such a thing could happen, it seemed far more likely that the men of the Cuckoo’s Gang would all be killed in some foolhardy, ill-conceived raid, and me along with them.
Ujeb continued to elaborate on his fantasy of a regal Artemon. “If Artemon were a king, that would make him the equal of Mithridates. Think about it! The two of them could join forces against the Romans. And we men of the Cuckoo’s Gang, we’d be like the followers of Alexander, there at the birth of something big, much bigger than ourselves, and likely to see quite a nice profit from it. Just imagine.…”
He droned on, and the others listened, enthralled. I shook my head. They had departed for the realm the Greek playwrights call Cloud Cuckoo Land, and there was no point in calling them back to earth. I looked at the boats ahead of us and behind, and wondered in how many of those vessels similar conversations were taking place, as the men speculated about the adventure ahead of them.
If Ujeb’s fantasies were absurd, what were Artemon’s intentions?
I gazed at the watery landscape of the Delta, thinking what a long way I had come from my cozy bedroom in Alexandria. Had I lost my bearings along the way? What if Ujeb and the others were right, and I was the one wearing blinders?
After all, what did I know about how kingdoms were made, or where kings came from? Hadn’t Romulus and Remus been petty bandits before they founded the city? What was Alexander but the leader of a very large and bloodthirsty gang who happened to have the love of the gods, at least for a while? Perhaps my best course was to follow the example of the men around me-to put my trust completely in Artemon and thank Fortuna that my destiny was tied to such a man.
Perhaps. Yet all my instincts told me that something quite terrible lay in store for us.
XXXII
The ship was waiting for us at the inlet, just as Artemon had said it would be. The sun was sinking as we drew alongside, lighting everything with a garish orange glow that cast long shadows.
It was by far the largest vessel I had ever boarded. In my journeys to the Seven Wonders, I had traveled mostly on small trading ships that sailed from port to port, closely hugging the coastline. Those boats, lightly manned and crammed with cargo, barely had room for passengers. The Medusa-the ship took its name from a brightly painted wooden statue at the prow-was a veritable floating island.
The ship was already manned when we boarded, with a crew of at least twenty sailors and perhaps sixty rowers, yet the deck was so vast that every man aboard was able to assemble below the towering mast. With Cheelba following him, Artemon ascended a short flight of steps to the roof of the cabin at the stern. He stood at the rail, where everyone could see him.
Where were Bethesda and Ismene? I hadn’t seen them on board, but I assumed they must be inside the structure upon which Artemon stood, since it afforded the only secure and secluded quarters on the ship.
While Artemon talked, the lion sat next to him on its haunches and swished its tail.
“Welcome aboard the Medusa,” he said. “Isn’t she a beauty? This will be our home for a brief while. The men already aboard are our comrades, as much a part of the Cuckoo’s Gang as any man here, no matter that most of them come from far away. Once we’re under way, every man will be expected to take turns at the oars. If you’ve never done such work, you’ll find it’s not so different from rowing the long boats, except that you’ll get blisters in new places.”
He introduced the captain, a dark man with leathery skin and a bristling black beard. One of his eyes was missing, and in its place was a mass of scars. His smile showed a mouth full of crooked yellow teeth, with gaps where several were missing. His name was Mavrogenis and he was the very image of a pirate-so much so that he would have been at home in Melmak’s mime troupe, frightening children and making their parents laugh. When the captain gave us all a leering smile, Djet clutched my leg and cowered behind me.
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.