"Are you Eudoxos of Kyzikos, sir? The peace herald and sacred ambassador of Kyzikos? Rejoice! I, Noptes, high priest of Sarapis, welcome you in the name of His Majesty—"
At that instant the other two, also reaching the deck, burst out: "Rejoice, worthy Eudoxos! I welcome you in the name of Her Majesty—"
Then each of the three tried to shout down the others, so that I could hear nought but an unintelligible babble. At last I banged the deck with my stick and roared:
"By Bakchos' balls, shut up, you three!" Their voices fell off, since I was larger than any of them and far from handsome. "Now," said I quietly, "you got here first, sir priest, so finish your speech. You two shall have your chance later. Go on."
With a flicker of a smile, Noptes continued: "I welcome you in the name of His Majesty, King Ptolemaios the Benefactor. During the Persephoneia, you and your party shall be lodged in apartments in the royal palace. If you will follow me, sir—"
"Wait!" cried the other two together.
"All right," I said and indicated the officer. "You next."
"Sir!" The gleaming soldier brought his heels smartly together. He was a good-looking man in his thirties, with a close-cut black beard, and on his head a black-crested, bowl-shaped Macedonian helmet, with a narrow brim all the way round and cheek pieces of boiled leather tied together under his chin. In a guttural Judaean accent, he began: "I am Ananias of Askalon, deputy commander of the regiment of Her Majesty, Queen Kleopatra the Wife. In the name of Her Majesty, I welcome you and your party to Alexandria for the Persephoneia. You shall stay in the guest house of Her Majesty—"
"My turn!" cried the red-haired civilian. He was almost as tall as I and about the age of the Judaean, with a sharp-pointed nose and slanting eyebrows that gave him the look of a Pan. With a charming smile and an Attic accent that was a little too preciously refined to be convincing, he said:
"My dear Eudoxos, allow me. I am Hippalos of Corinth, choragus to Her Majesty, Queen Kleopatra the Sister, and your servant. Her Majesty begs that you and yours stay in her portion of the palace, which has been redecorated especially for your pleasure—"
"So? The Wife's guest house is far more comfortable!" the Judaean officer broke in.
"I spoke first," said the priest, "and anyway my master is the king!"
All three began to jabber again, whilst their attendants in the background scowled at one another and muttered. It looked as if the deck of the Persephonê would become the scene of a brawl, when I shouted them down again.
"You put us in an embarrassing position," I said. "Why in the name of the Dog can't you settle these arguments before coming here? We would not offend any of your royal masters, but we cannot follow three mutually contradictory sets of orders at once."
The dispute went round and round until the Judaean said: "A story I'll tell you. Once my people were ruled by a wise and mighty king named Solomon, who had a case like this to decide. Two women each claimed a child. After listening to their clack all day, the king offered to cut the child in twain and give half to each—"
"If that be the Judaean notion of wisdom!" said the priest, Noptes. "It only proves—"
"You haven't heard the rest," persisted Ananias. "One woman agreed to this proposal; but the other said no, she would rather the other woman had the child than that it were harmed. So the king knew that the second woman was the true mother—"
"That is all very well," said Noptes, "but we cannot carve up our rulers' guests."
"I don't know why not," said Hippalos the choragus with a sly grin, whereat some of my delegation looked apprehensive. "I'll take the heads, and you two can divide—"
"Enough of your foolery!" said Ananias. "A joke of your mother's funeral you'd make. This is supposed to be a formal, dignified occasion."
"You've solved the problem, nonetheless," I told the Judaean. Turning to my delegation, I told off six men and said: "You six shall go with High Priest Noptes." To another six, I said: "You shall go with Colonel Ananias."
Then I realized that there were only five left, including myself. It would have been more foresighted to have included myself in the group to be lodged by the king, since he wielded the most power; but I did not want to change the arrangements at that stage. I assigned myself and the remaining delegates to Hippalos and told Gnouros to pick up my gear.
Walking along the waterfront towards the palaces, Hippalos chatted familiarly with me. "I say," he asked, "are you Eudoxos the geographer? The author of Description of the Euxine Seal"
"Why, yes. Do you know it here?"
"I've read one of the copies in the Library. It is, I must say, a jolly good coverage of the subject."
"Most of my firm's trade is with the Euxine ports," I explained, "so I know Pantikapaion and the rest from firsthand acquaintance."
"Have you explored the great Scythian rivers?"
"I've been a fair distance up the Hypanis and the Tani's and the Borysthenes. There's not much to see—just a great, grassy plain to the horizon, whereon the Scythians roam with their flocks. I got this little scar—" (I touched my right cheek) "—from a Scythian arrow. I don't care what Homer and the other ancients say; the Scythians are not a notably just and upright race, nor is their climate mild and balmy. In fact, a less balmy one were hard to find."
"Have you ever thought of exploring in the other direction —south of Egypt? All sorts of fascinating mysteries await solution thither."
"I've read the arguments about the sources of the Nile," I said, "but I hadn't thought of trying to solve the problem myself. It's a fascinating riddle; but my exploring has been in the line of commerce, and now I'm getting a little old for roughing it"
"Why, how old are you?" asked Hippalos. When I told him, he exclaimed: "Oh, I say! You don't look a day over forty; just in the prime of life. By Herakles, I should like to make such an exploration! When I was a sailor, I visited all the main ports of the Inner Sea; but I should like to try something more daring and distant. Only, I lack the money and influence to mount such an expedition; the stars have been against me. Perhaps you and I could get together on such a project, eh?"
I raised an eyebrow. "Have you had any experience at that sort of thing?"
"I daresay I've traveled as much as you have, no offense meant. When I was a strolling singer, I jolly well had to learn to live by my wits in strange places."
"Well, it's worth thinking about," I said. In dealing with such people—especially in the East—one never gives them a fiat "no"; they would be offended and try to do one ill. Instead, one says "perhaps" or "another time." Eventually they get the idea without hard feelings. At the time, however, I had no intention of haring off on some crack-brained jaunt with a professional entertainer, however charming and versatile.
We were let in the main gate of the palace area by a pair of Celtic mercenaries: big men with long, brown mustaches, wearing checkered coats and trousers and armed with huge, oval shields and long swords. The palace compound was a vast complex of buildings in ornate modern style, with gilded capitals on the columns and brightly painted entablatures. The area bustled with people coming and going, since these edifices contained the offices of the Egyptian government as well as the living quarters of the rulers.
The party broke up, the guests of each of the three monarchs being taken to a different destination. Hippalos led us into one of the buildings and to a two-room apartment. In the living room, a marble-topped table bore a small water clock which, as we entered, gave forth a sharp ping to signal noon. Hippalos showed us our beds and said:
"The bath is down the hall this way. You will be cleaned up, fed, and given a chance to rest. When the clock strikes the ninth hour, I shall lead you to the audience chamber for presentation to Their Majesties."