I had never seen the harbor so empty. Mavrogenis had plenty of room to maneuver, but still showed impressive skill as he brought the big vessel to rest with our port side parallel to the wharf.
Before the Medusa entered the harbor, the men had hidden their armaments under the sleeping blankets. Now, very quickly, we threw the blankets aside and strapped on whatever armor we had been issued, took up our weapons, and assembled on the deck. Menkhep moved among us, making sure every man was properly outfitted.
I felt an insistent poking against my thigh and looked down to see Djet.
“What about me?” he said. “Where is my armor and sword?”
I was glad for the laugh he gave me, a distraction from the butterflies in my stomach. Menkhep, who happened to be passing by, also laughed.
“Don’t be ridiculous, boy,” he said. “You’re to stay on the ship until we get back.”
Djet looked dejected, then smiled. “I could climb up to the top of the mast and keep watch!”
“We already have a lookout posted up there,” said Menkhep. He gave Djet an affectionate rap on the head and moved on. I peered down at the boy, realizing I had given no thought as to what would become of him. I squatted beside him and spoke in a low voice.
“You’ll stay here on the boat when we leave, Djet. But if you see a chance-if it’s safe to do so, if no one is watching you-get off the ship. You’re good at that sort of thing. Good at hiding, too. Get off the wharf if you can, but otherwise, find some nook or cranny in that customs house over there and conceal yourself until the Medusa sets sail.”
“And wait there for you?”
“No. Maybe. I mean…” I shook my head. “If you see me come back with the rest, don’t reveal yourself. Don’t call out or come to me, even if I get on the ship-especially if I get on the ship. Stay hidden. Then, as soon as you’re able, make your way to the Street of the Seven Baboons.” I managed a rueful smile. “Tell Tafhapy that you’ve finally returned from the very long errand on which he sent you.”
“What about you? What shall I tell the master about you?”
I sighed, and again felt butterflies in my stomach.
“Tell him that you served me well, Djet, and I was very pleased. Tell him I gave you this, as a sign of my gratitude.” From the coin purse tied around my waist-for I had decided to take with me all the wealth I had accumulated since leaving Alexandria, leaving none of it on the ship-I pulled a silver shekel from Tyre, a beautiful thing with an image of Hercules on one side and an eagle clutching a palm leaf on the other, and pressed it into his hand. I felt an impulse to hug him, and did so, so hard that I squeezed the breath out of him.
“Now isn’t that touching?” said Ujeb. I looked up to see a smirk on his face. “The Roman is saying a heartfelt farewell to his pretty Ganymede!”
Before I could answer Ujeb, Artemon appeared atop the cabin. He wore a silver-plated cuirass that caught the sunlight, and carried a beautifully crafted sword. When he placed an equally magnificent helmet on his head, an antique thing of Greek design with an ornate nose guard and flaring cheek plates, he looked like an image of Achilles.
The helmet also served to hide his face. There were no helmets for the rest of us, who had to make do with the traditional disguise of bandits. Along with the others, observing the ritual that marked the commencement of any raid, I tied my scarf across the lower half of my face.
Like a general before a battle, Artemon stood before us and delivered a short speech. At first, my mind was so agitated and my heart pounded so loudly I could hardly hear a word he said. Presumably he was trying to rally our courage, or arouse our greed, or both. But as I grew calmer, I heard him clearly, and realized that the speech was not at all what I expected.
“What sort of man is this King Ptolemy? Why should we fear him? A fat buffoon, some call him. The shame of Egypt. Now the people are ready to get rid of him, and their only choice to replace him is his brother, a man who already had his turn at ruling and was driven into exile. That’s what comes of letting blood determine who should be king. Men are born to the throne instead of earning it, and there’s no good way to be rid of them.
“Far better to be a king of bandits than the king of Egypt, I say! Their sort of king begins life on a bed of purple pillows, playing with golden rattles, surrounded by fawning slaves. They possess everything from birth, and know the value of nothing. Better to begin as the bastard son of a whore, I say, and become a brigand in the wild along with twenty or thirty sworn companions, men who are absolutely trustworthy and full of spirit and afraid of nothing. Let that company grow to a hundred free men, then two hundred, then thousands, spread all across Egypt. Someday their number will be in the tens of thousands! And the man who is honored to lead them will be the greatest king of all, because he will be their chosen leader, a man who earned his crown not by inheriting a thing that was earned by his ancestors, but by his own hard work and merit.
“I told you last night that what we do today will make us legends. But the Cuckoo’s Gang is already the stuff of legend. There is a not a man in Egypt who does not know of us, and envy us-our freedom, our boldness, our fearlessness! But time moves on, and so do we. Yesterday we closed the scroll of the past. Today we unroll the scroll of the future-and that future will be a story etched in golden letters and spangled with jewels, filled to bursting with glory!
“Last night I said that any man who wished to do so might stay behind, and leave the ship when we return, to take his chances as a free man in Alexandria. Does any man choose to leave us? If so, lay down your arms and step aside now.”
No one moved. For once, Ujeb had no ready quip. Instead, his chin quivered and a tear ran down his cheek. I looked at Menkhep. He did not weep, but his eyes glistened.
Even I was spellbound by Artemon’s words. I cared nothing for the bandit gang and all their false glory, yet I stood rooted to the spot.
I looked at the cabin. The door was shut. Was Bethesda inside? Would she be there when I came back-if I came back?
Artemon looked from face to face and nodded, as if to acknowledge and record the choice of every man present.
He turned and descended the steps to the deck, and then, to my amazement, took hold of a long leash, at the end of which was Cheelba. Artemon intended to lead us through the streets of Alexandria with a lion at his side-and why not? Cheelba’s roar would send even the bravest opponents scattering in terror.
Outfitted, armed, and ready, with Artemon and Cheelba leading us, we filed down the broad gangplank and proceeded at a quick pace up the wharf.
XXXIV
I had never looked closely at the layout of such wharves, or the paraphernalia with which they were equipped. Now everything I saw seemed to be in stark relief, including the empty wagons and idle hoists scattered here and there. On a normal day, in normal times, these implements of transport and loading would all have been in use, but on this day, all was quiet.
Midway between the docking area and the shore, we came to the customs house. The building occupied the entire width of the wharf, so that we had no choice but to pass through it. The broad doors were unlocked and opened at a push.
The interior of the structure was divided into offices, checkpoints, and storage rooms. Every item leaving or arriving in the port of Alexandria was subject to examination, appraisal, and taxation, so it was not surprising to discover that the customs house was constructed a bit like a maze, full of baffles and dead ends. We had to turn this way and that, and pass through several sets of doors. Fortunately, Artemon seemed to know the way. We did not encounter a single armed guard, only a few idle clerks who fled before us in panic.