I spoke to Tis: "Sir, what's that in your other hand?"
The mass of fabric which he held, pale blue-gray with a glint of golden thread and spangles, looked in the dim light like that which we sought.
Tis did not try to deny it. "Careless of me, is it not? Being my latest acquisition, it was on top of the pile."
"But, if—" I began.
"It matters not," he said. "You shall not have this back. I am fain to keep it for my collection, and you will have no use for it where you are going."
Tis nodded towards the door. In through the portal filed a group of men. Some wore Egyptian skirts; some, Greek shirts. Some bore lanterns or links, but all carried knives in their hands.
"So much protection for your guests?" I said. "Or for you?"
"O Chares, almost I like you! Alas, that you should be so inquisitive as to learn more than is good for you to know!"
"I know nothing."
"A fine performance, my boy, but came I down here before dinner and traced two sets of fresh footprints. There were also marks other than those of feet."
The last of the newcomers, about ten in all, had now filed into the chamber. Among them I recognized Alexis and Semken. One hardy-looking rogue put his back to the door.
I said quickly: "O Tis, I can make it worth your while to forget your grudge and let us go."
The archthief shook his head. For an instant I thought he assented, but then I recalled that among many foreigners this gesture means "no" instead of "yes."
"Again you misjudge me," he said. "I have never forgotten a favor or forgiven a wrong."
"But, as a practical man—"
He smiled. "I told you that I am not a practical man. I am a romantic sentimentalist. But enough of talk." Stepping away from me, he raised his voice: "Chatbouthen sen!"
I hurled my lamp at Tis's head. There was a thud of lamp on skull and a flash of spilt and flaming oil. Tis fell at Onas' feet while the lamp rebounded clanking against the wall of the chamber. The spilt oil begun to burn with little dancing flames.
At the same time I shouted: "Onas! Grab the robe and run!" I snatched at my kilt to get my hands on my sword.
Onas looked up with a vague, far-off expression, as when he had talked in his shop in Rhodes of the mystical powers of gems. "Eh? Robe? This book—"
Berosos squealed like a slaughtered pig as a knife flashed and buried its blade in his fat. He stumbled and floundered heavily towards the door.
I got my hand on my hilt. Dikaiarchos, with one sweeping motion, whirled the cloak from his body and around his left arm, leaving bare his right arm, which grasped his sword.
A man stepped between me and Tis's body, drawing back his arm for a stab..
Dikaiarchos lunged at the man holding the door. The latter made a parrying motion, but the geographer's long blade skewered him through the guts.
I got my sword out at last, wondering how many I could take to the land of the shades with me. With odds of two to one, I had little hope of getting away.
There was a blinding flash, as of lightning; then a whole sequence of them, which lighted up the chamber with a ghastly, glaring, bluish light. Men cried out in terror. I glimpsed Manethôs, holding his lamp out from his body with one hand while he tossed something into the flame with the other. Then I could see nothing but whirling splotches of color.
I had started towards the robe, which lay beside Tis, and had begun an overhand slash at the man before me. Blindly I felt the blade bite meat and heard a hoarse yell. Blindly I stumbled over a body and groped on the ground. The fingers of my left hand touched silk. I snatched the garment up, whipping it about my left forearm for a shield.
A knife flashed close to me, and I heard the rip of cloth as it grazed me but sliced my garments. I struck out and missed; struck again at a hand that came out of the whirling spots of color to grasp my arm, and cut into something.
As my vision cleared, I saw Dikaiarchos holding the door, keeping two thieves in play with his sword; Berosos stumbling through the door into the tunnel; Manethôs throwing his lamp at Alexis; near him, Onas, like one walking in sleep, starting for the door at last; and some of Tis's thieves rubbing their eyes, being still unable to see after Manethôs' tame levin bolts had blasted their sight. Blades flashed yellow in the lamplight.
I may be small but in those days I was not slow. I sprang towards the men who were closing in on Manethôs and Onas. I cut, thrust, and caught stab after stab in the folds of De-metrios' robe. Though my longer blade gave me an advantage, I had to keep whirling and shifting as if I were dancing the rhoditikos, to keep three or four from closing in upon me at once. I could not press an attack on any one far enough to finish him, lest the others pull me down from the rear.
I got a thrust home into the back of a man who was about to stab Manethôs , who in turn was lunging at another man with his knife. Tis stirred and made as if to rise.
Then Onas was through the door, and Manethôs after him. I had almost reached it when a man caught the fluttering end of Demetrios' robe. I cut at him and missed, pulled with all my might, heard the fabric tear, and fell over backwards as it parted. I leaped up and ran down the tunnel. After me pounded Dikaiarchos, shouting:
"Faster! Hurry!"
The only light in the tunnel came from the few lamps in the chamber that had not been extinguished in the fight. As we went farther from the door, this light grew dimmer and dimmer until we groped in darkness. Ahead, I heard the footfalls and heavy breathing of my comrades.
Then light came after us again: a faintly winking yellow gleam.
"They're after us with the lamps," panted Dikaiarchos. "But they cannot run too fast for fear of blowing them out. Keep on!"
As the fight in the chamber of the bull sarcophagus had seemed to take no time at all, the flight down the tunnel seemed to take forever, though in fact it cannot have used more than the tenth part of an hour.
We burst through the door into Tis's bedchamber. Amenardis and Thoueris, drawn to the room by the noise, screamed at the sight of our tattered garments and streaming blood. Dikaiarchos again showed the greatest presence of mind. Dashing around to the other side of Tis's great ivory and ebony bed, he gasped:
"Help me with this! Pile things against the door!"
With mighty grunts Dikaiarchos and Onas pushed the bed against the secret door, while the rest of us piled chairs, vases, statues, and other movables on and around the bed. As we did so, there came a pounding on the door. The points of knives appeared through the thin paneling as the thieves stabbed at it from the other side.
"What happened?" said Amenardis. "Tis dead?"
"No, a bump on the pate only," I said.
"You take me like you promise?"
"Surely. Tell our servants to gather our gear."
"You not wait," she said. "Tunnels have other entrances, out in the desert. Soon these thieves think of them."
"Grab your stuff and run, boys," I said. "Can anybody harness and drive Tis's' wagon?"
"I can," said Onas.
While the rest of us cowed Tis's servants with our blades, Onas and Manethôs hitched up the whites by torchlight. We threw our belongings into the carriage and tumbled aboard. Onas cracked the whip; out of the stable we clattered.
At the gate the giant Nubian barred our way, waving a cudgel and shouting. While Onas disputed him, Dikaiarchos and I dropped out of the carriage on opposite sides. Dikaiarchos menaced him with a sword in front, and I threw myself against the backs of his knees from behind. Down went the giant with a yell. Dikaiarchos smote him smartly with the flat of his blade on his shaven crown. We dragged the unconscious man out of the way, each tugging on a leg, and resumed our journey.