Gordianus The Finder Omnibus (Books 1-4) (78 page)

‘Naia made a few inquiries. It did not take long to discover the name of the man she suspected and where he lived. She sent her servant to watch his movements, and to alert her immediately when this man should next pass near her window.

‘A few days later the servant came running to her chamber, out of breath, and told her to look out of the window. A young man wearing new clothes and sandals was looking at some expensive rugs displayed outside the shop below. Naia took a seat in her window and sent her servant to give the man a message.’

‘She accused him then and there?’ I said.

‘Of course not. The servant told the young man that his mistress had noticed him from her window and perceived him to be a man of taste and means, and wished to invite him up to her room. When the young man looked up, Naia was posed in the window in such a way that very few men could have resisted the invitation.’

‘This Naia,’ I said, ‘is beginning to remind me of a certain other Egyptian woman I know . . .’

Bethesda ignored me. ‘The young man came straight to her room. The servant brought cool wine and fresh fruit, and then sat outside the door, softly playing a flute. Naia and her guest talked for a while, and soon it became evident that the young man desired her greatly. But Naia insisted that they play a game first. Relaxed by the heat of the day, his tongue loosened by wine and desire, the young man agreed. This was the game – that each of them should reveal to the other two secrets, beginning with the young man. What was the greatest crime of his life? And what was his cleverest trick?

‘These questions gave the young man pause, and a shadow of sadness crossed over his face, followed by a laugh. “I can answer you easily enough,” he said, “but I’m not sure which is which. My greatest crime was cutting off my brother’s head. My greatest trick was putting his head and body back together again. Or perhaps it’s the other way around!” He smiled ruefully and looked at Naia with desiring eyes. “And you?” he whispered.

‘Naia sighed. “Like you,” she said, “I’m not sure which is which. I think my greatest trick was discovering the thief who has been robbing King Rhampsinitus’ treasure house, and my greatest crime will be when I hand him over to the king! Or perhaps it will end up being the other way around . . .”

‘The young man gave a start and came to his senses. He rose and ran towards the window, but a great iron cage, like the one that had trapped his brother, came down on him from the ceiling. He could not escape. Naia sent her servant to fetch the king’s guards.

‘ “And now,” she said, “while we wait, perhaps you can explain to me what I don’t already know about the plundering of the king’s silver.”

‘The young man was at first furious, and then he began to weep, realizing the fate that awaited him. Death was the sweetest punishment he could hope for. More likely he would have his hands and feet chopped off and would live the rest of his life as a cripple and a beggar. “But you must know everything already,” he cried. “How did you find me out?”

‘Naia shrugged. “I thought for a while that the two guards might be in collusion, and that the headless body was a third confederate, whom they killed when he was captured so that he could not betray them. But the guards knew of the traps, and so could have avoided them; and I doubt that any man in Memphis would allow himself to appear half-shaven before the king, even to disguise his own guilt. Besides, everyone agrees that the treasure house doors cannot be opened without breaking the seals. So there must have been some other way in. How could that be, unless the architect planned it? And who could know of any secret entrance except the architect’s two sons?”

‘ “It’s true,” the young man said. “My father showed it to us before he died – a secret entrance opened by pressing on a single stone in the palace wall, impossible to find unless you know the exact measurements. Two men, or even one, can open it with a simple push, take whatever they can carry from the treasure house, and then seal the door behind them so that no one could ever find it. I told my older brother that we were taking too much, and that the king would notice; but our father had told us that the king sorely underpaid him for all his years of effort, and that by his design we should always have a steady income.”

‘ “But then your brother was caught in the iron cage,” said Naia.

‘ “Yes. He could stick his head outside the bars, but nothing more. He begged me to cut off his head and take it with me; otherwise, someone in the palace would recognize him and all our family would be brought to ruin.”

‘ “And you did as he demanded. How terrible for you! How brave! But you were a good brother. You reclaimed his body, united it with the head and sent him on his way to the afterlife.”

‘ “I might not have done so, but my mother insisted. I disguised myself and deceived the guards into drinking drugged wine. In the darkness I cut down my brother’s body and hid him among the wineskins in the cart. Before I carried him off, I shaved the guards, so that the king would not suspect them of conspiring with me.”

‘Naia looked out of the window. “And here are those two guards now, hurrying this way across the square.”

‘ “Please,” the young man begged, thrusting his head outside the cage, “cut off my head! Let me share my brother’s fate! Otherwise who knows what horrible punishments the king will inflict on me?”

‘Naia picked up a long blade and pretended to consider it. “No,” she said at last, even as the guards’ footsteps were booming on the stairs. “I think we will let justice take its course.”

‘So the young man was brought before King Rhampsinitus, along with Naia, who came to claim her reward. The thief’s cache of silver was found hidden in his home and restored to the treasure house. The secret entrance was sealed over, and Naia was allowed to load a mule with as much silver as the beast could carry.

‘As for the fate of the thief, Rhampsinitus announced that he would allow the dishonoured guards to take their revenge on him first, and in the morning he would decide on the punishment, either beheading him or chopping off his hands and feet.

‘As he was leaving the audience chamber, Naia called after him. “Do you remember the rest of our bargain, great king?”

‘Rhampsinitus looked back at her, puzzled.

‘ “You said you would grant me a wish,” Naia reminded him.

‘ “Ah, yes,” the king nodded. “And what is it you wish for?”

‘ “I wish for you to forgive this young man and set him free!”

‘Rhampsinitus looked at her aghast. What she asked was impossible – but there was no way to deny her request. Then he smiled. “Why not?” he said. “The mystery is solved, the silver is restored, the secret entrance is sealed. I had thought that this thief was the cleverest man in Egypt – but you are even cleverer, Naia!” ’

Another shooting star passed overhead. The crickets chirred. I stretched my limbs. ‘And I suppose the two of them married.’

‘So the story goes. It makes sense that a woman as clever as Naia would settle only for a man as clever as the thief. With the silver she had obtained, and the combined quickness of their wits, I have no doubt that they lived very happily.’

‘And King Rhampsinitus?’

‘His memory is still revered as the last of the good kings, before Cheops began a long dynasty of disasters. They say that after the mystery of the missing silver was solved, he went down to the place the Greeks and Romans call Hades and played dice with Demeter. One game he won, and one game he lost. When he came back she gave him a golden napkin. And that is why the priests blindfold themselves with yellow cloths when they follow the jackals to the Temple of Demeter on the night of the spring festival . . .’

I must have dozed, for I missed the rest of whatever new story Bethesda had begun. When I awoke, she was silent, but I could tell by her breathing that she was still awake. ‘Bethesda,’ I whispered. ‘What was
your
greatest crime? And your greatest trick?’

After a moment she said, ‘I think they are both yet to come. And you?’

‘Come here and I’ll whisper them to you.’

The night had grown cooler. A steady breeze wafted gently up from the valley of the Tiber. Bethesda rose from her couch and came to mine. I put my lips to her ear, but I did not whisper secrets. Instead we did something else.

And the next day, down on the street of the silversmiths, I bought her a simple silver bracelet – a memento of the night she told me the tale of King Rhampsinitus and his treasure house.

A WILL IS A WAY

Lucius Claudius was a sausage-fingered, plum-cheeked, cherry-nosed nobleman with a fuzzy wreath of thinning red hair on his florid pate and a tiny, pouting mouth.

The name Claudius marked him not only as a nobleman but a patrician, hailing from that small group of old families who first made Rome great (or who at least fooled the rest of the Romans into thinking so). Not all patricians are rich; even the best families can go to seed over the centuries. But from the gold seal ring that Lucius wore, and from the other rings that kept it company – one of silver set with lapis, another of white gold with a bauble of flawless green glass – I suspected he was quite rich indeed. The rings were complemented by a gold necklace from which glittering glass baubles dangled amid the frizzled red hair that sprouted from his fleshy chest. His toga was of the finest wool, and his shoes were of exquisitely tooled leather.

He was the very image of a wealthy patrician, not handsome and not very bright-looking either, but impeccably groomed and dressed. His green eyes twinkled and his pouting lips pursed easily into a smile, betraying a man with a naturally pleasant personality. Wealthy, well born and with a cheerful disposition, he struck me as a man who shouldn’t have a worry in the world – except that he obviously did, or else he would never have come to see me.

We sat in the little garden of my house on the Esquiline Hill. Once upon a time, a man of Lucius’ social status would never have been seen entering the house of Gordianus the Finder, but in recent years I seem to have acquired a certain respectability. I think the change began after my first case for the young advocate Cicero. Apparently Cicero has been saying nice things about me behind my back to his colleagues in the law courts, telling them that he actually put me up in his house once and it turned out that Gordianus, professional ferret and consorter with assassins notwithstanding, knew how to use a bowl and spoon and an indoor privy after all, and could even tell the difference between them.

Lucius Claudius filled the chair I had pulled up for him almost to overflowing. He shifted a bit nervously and toyed with his rings, then smiled sheepishly and held up his cup. ‘A bit more?’ he said, making an ingratiatingly silly face.

‘Of course.’ I clapped my hands. ‘Bethesda! More wine for my guest. The best, from the green clay bottle.’

Bethesda rather sullenly obeyed, taking her time to rise from where she had been sitting cross-legged beside a pillar. She disappeared into the house. Her movements were as graceful as the unfolding of a flower. Lucius watched her with a lump in his throat. He swallowed hard.

‘A very beautiful slave,’ he whispered.

‘Thank you, Lucius Claudius.’ I hoped he wouldn’t offer to buy her, as so many of my wealthier clients do. I hoped in vain.

‘I don’t suppose you’d consider – ’ he began.

‘Alas, no, Lucius Claudius.’

‘But I was going to say – ’

‘I would sooner sell my extra rib.’

‘Ah.’ He nodded sagely, then wrinkled his fleshy brow.
‘What
did you say?’

‘Oh, a nonsense expression I picked up from Bethesda. According to her ancestors on her father’s side, the first woman was fashioned from a rib bone taken from the first man, by a god called Jehovah. That is why some men seem to have an extra rib, with no match on the other side.’

‘Do they?’ Lucius poked at his rib cage, but I think he was much too well padded to actually feel a rib.

I took a sip of wine and smiled. Bethesda had told me the Hebrew tale of the first man and woman many times; each time she tells it I clutch my side and pretend to bleat from pain, until she starts to pout and we both end up laughing. It seems to me a most peculiar tale, but no stranger than the stories her Egyptian mother told her about jackal-headed gods and crocodiles who walk upright. If it is true, this Hebrew god is worthy of respect. Not even Jupiter could claim to have created anything half as exquisite as Bethesda.