Ancient World 02 - Raiders of the Nile (30 page)

I drew a breath, and realized it was the first full breath I had taken since the ordeal began. My shoulders slumped. I suddenly felt exhausted and as weak as a child. Even the hollow horn felt heavy in my hand. At last I turned my back on the lion so that I could look up at Artemon, craning my neck to do so.

“What about the other side of the pit? What if I had chosen to walk across the crocodile’s enclosure?”

He cocked an eyebrow. “Others have done so before you.”

“Is that tightrope also rigged to break?”

Artemon shook his head. “No, the rope above the crocodile is intact. If a man can manage to cross it, he’s passed the initiation. But very few men have managed to do so.”

“They fell into the crocodile pit?”

“Yes.”

“Did any of those men survive?”

“How inquisitive you are, Pecunius! But since you ask, I can remember only one such candidate. He survived, yes, but he wasn’t allowed to join us. We patched him up as best we could and sent him on his way. Ismene said he would bring bad luck. Of what use is a bandit who’s lost his hands?”

I shuddered. “The crocodile isn’t a pet, then?”

Artemon laughed. “Mangobbler is no one’s pet, even though he’s been with us longer than Cheelba. Mangobbler seems always to be in a bad mood.”

As if to demonstrate the point, there was a sudden banging noise from the other enclosure as the crocodile furiously lashed its tail against the wall.

The racket set my teeth on edge, but had no effect on the lion, which seemed to be fast asleep. Even its tail had ceased to move.

One end of a slender rope abruptly fell at my feet. I looked up to see that Menkhep held the other end, which was coiled several times around his fist. “Time for you to climb out,” he said.

I looked at the rope, then at the lion. The beast began to snore. It whimpered and twitched its paws, as if dreaming.

Bethesda loved cats. Not huge cats such as this one, but the much smaller variety that one encountered everywhere in Alexandria and in all the other cities of Egypt I had visited. To the people of the Nile, cats were sacred animals, protected by law and custom against all harm. They were allowed to come and go as they liked, living in temples and public arcades and even in people’s houses, where families venerated them like little gods and goddesses. As a boy growing up in Rome, I had seen lions at a distance in gladiator shows but had never encountered an Egyptian housecat. I had never imagined that people could coexist and even cohabit with such creatures, but Bethesda had taught me that one could not only approach them safely, but could even handle them in such a way as to bring pleasure to human and feline alike.

An idea occurred to me. A mad idea, surely, and yet …

Perhaps I was giddy from the ordeal I had just experienced, drunk with relief, and like a drunk man, suffering from impaired judgment. Or perhaps the experience had cleared my head, and my mind was sharper than ever. Whatever my mental state, once the idea occurred to me, I felt an overwhelming impulse to carry it out.

With my fingers I frayed the end of the slender rope, so that it terminated in a number of strong but pliable strands. When I was satisfied with this work, I slowly approached the sleeping lion.

I squatted beside the beast and cautiously laid my hand on its side. The beast responded with a sigh. I felt the rise and fall of its rib cage as it breathed. Though its mouth was closed, the odor from its rotten tooth at such close proximity made me wince.

Above me, the men grew quiet. “What’s he up to?” Menkhep muttered.

I slowly stroked the lion’s chest, then its face, feeling a thrill of fear and excitement. The dyed fur was coarser than that of an Egyptian housecat.

“Cheelba—is that your name?” I whispered. “Beautiful Cheelba. Good Cheelba.”

Moving very slowly, I touched the lion’s jaw, then its dark lips. Its eyelids flickered, but still it dozed. I pressed my fingers between the lips and made contact with the teeth, which felt hard and huge and very sharp beneath my fingertips.

I swallowed hard and took a quick, deep breath. I set the end of the rope beside me and used both hands to pry the lion’s jaws apart. To my amazement, the beast let me do as I wished, though it snorted quietly and its eyelids flickered.

I spotted a sharp fang with a gaping black hole. It was this cavity that emitted the terrible stench. I took hold of the tooth and felt it move in its socket, as if it were nearly ready to come loose from the gums.

Holding the jaws apart with only a forefinger and thumb, I reached for the rope. At this point I could have used a third hand, but nonetheless I managed to slowly, carefully tie several of the stringlike ends of the rope around the damaged tooth.

Above me, I heard the men whisper and gasp, but no one laughed or raised his voice.

When I was done, the rope was firmly attached to the tooth.

I slowly rose and stepped back from the dozing lion.

“Menkhep,” I said, keeping my eyes on the lion and my voice low, “can you give me enough slack so that I can climb up without disturbing Cheelba?”

He lowered more of the rope, then the men to either side of him joined him in holding fast to the other end. I took hold of the rope and walked up the earthen wall of the pit, using the last measure of my strength to put one foot ahead of the other. At last I reached the top, where helping hands lifted me up and over the rim.

Without a word, Menkhep and the others relinquished their grip on the rope and stepped back, so that I alone still held the rope.

I looked down at Cheelba, who still dozed, and then across the pit, at Artemon. He no longer smiled; his expression was hard to read. Was he impressed, or displeased by my initiative? It occurred to me that I might give the rope to him, so that he could execute the next step, but when I raised it slightly, as if to make the offer, he seemed at once to understand the gesture and rejected it with a small shake of his head and a very slight wave of his hand.

Menkhep patted me on the back. “Let’s see you do it, then,” he said. A murmur ran through the crowd like an echo.

“Yes, do it!” said Djet, who now stood close beside me, gazing upward. His eyes were bigger than ever.

I looked at Artemon. He slowly nodded.

I coiled the excess length around my forearm, slowly pulled the rope taut, and gave it a gentle tug. The knots I had tied around the tooth held firm. Cheelba wrinkled his nose and squeezed his eyes shut and reached up with one paw, as if the movement of the rope tickled his lips.

“Best done is quickly done,” I whispered, quoting the old Etruscan proverb. “Stand back, everyone.” For the span of several heartbeats I held the rope taut, then gave it a hard yank.

The tooth did not come free.

Instead, in an instant, Cheelba was on his feet, roaring loudly and swiping at the rope with his forepaws. The rope was coiled fast around my forearm; it wouldn’t come free. Cheelba backed away, pulling hard on the rope. My only choice was to pull back, but I quickly learned that a lion is stronger than a man. I tottered at the edge of the pit, about to fall in.

Menkhep grabbed one of my arms. Djet grabbed both of my legs. Others moved in to grab hold of me, and then, in the next instant, we were all tumbling backward.

Djet scampered out of the way—a good thing, or else I would have crushed him. I landed hard on my backside.

Like a snapped whip, the far end of the rope came hurtling out of the pit. The lion’s tooth, still attached, shot toward me like a missile. I saw it coming, and thought it must be headed straight between my eyes, but it struck a bit higher than that.

The pain was so sharp I gave a scream and reached up to clutch my forehead. The fang was only slightly embedded in the flesh. It came loose at my touch. I held it before me and wrinkled my nose at the smell. There was blood on my fingers, whether from myself or the lion or both, I couldn’t tell.

The concerned faces of Menkhep and Djet hovered over me, then both withdrew as Artemon took their place. His smile had returned. He pointed at my forehead.

“That’s going to leave a scar, I’m afraid. Ha! You can say a lion bit you, and you’ll hardly be lying.”

He grabbed one of my hands and pulled me to my feet. I swayed unsteadily.

“And that tooth should make a fine trophy, after it’s been cleaned up a bit. Here, Pecunius, let me take it. I’ll have it mounted for you and hung from a chain. You can wear it around your neck as a souvenir.”

From the pit I heard Cheelba roar—a very different sound, more robust and less plaintive, now that his tooth had been pulled.

The roar of the lion was drowned out by that of the men, who lifted me up and carried me on their shoulders all the way back to the Cuckoo’s Nest.

XXVIII

The rest of my initiation day was marked by the consumption of a great deal of wine and beer. My memories are hazy. Ismene was nowhere to be seen. Nor, of course, was Bethesda, the person I most longed to see and to touch after experiencing such a close brush with death. Even in a drunken stupor I managed to restrain my urge to go to her and I said nothing that would give me away.

I was taught a number of secret greetings that were used by the Cuckoo’s Gang. Some were snatches of doggerel—I was to say the first half of a certain nonsensical phrase, and if a stranger also happened to be a member of the gang he would say the rest of the phrase back to me. Other greetings involved secret hand signals, some rather broad but others quite subtle. These were useful, so I was told, if I were to meet another member in a crowded place, or if I needed to signal across a room.

The more I drank, the sillier it all seemed, especially a hand signal that involved poking my little finger into my ear, first on one side, then the other. The proper response was to tap one’s thumb to one’s chin three times. After performing this signal back and forth several times, Menkhep and I were reduced to tears of laughter.

At some point, Cheelba entered the clearing. It seemed that he was just as tame as Artemon had indicated, for not one of the men drew back. Several of them dared to pet and stroke the beast, as one might an Egyptian housecat. Cheelba paused obligingly to submit to these caresses, but steadily made his way toward me. Had I been sober I might have bolted, but in my inebriated state I merely marveled at the lion’s stately progress through the crowd. When he reached me, he stared into my eyes for a long moment, then nuzzled my hand. I felt his hot breath on my palm, and then the roughness of his tongue as he licked my fingers.

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.”