by Jay Penner
Eurydice shook her head. I kept a stoic composure.
“All we want is a ride and little else. Forty is preposterous.”
“Not at all. Not at all. Make a reasonable offer. If I accept fifteen, then Nismet here will murder me for my incompetence and take over my business.” Thefeni and his assistant both laughed, no wonder a worn out well-practiced joke.
“Eighteen. Not a coin more. I have traveled the world, Thefeni, you are not dealing with a village idiot.”
“Not at all, not at all. My heart bursts with love for any man of Tharbazus! Bursts!”
Eurydice looked at me and rolled her eyes. Tharbazus had told Thefeni that I was a thug, so I wondered where Thefeni’s love came from.
Thefeni sighed loudly. He stretched his arms and made a great show of tumult. And then he whispered in Nismet’s ears.
“Eighteen. I accept.” He stood and enveloped me in a sweaty, foul-smelling mass. The stench of Perdiccas' half-burned troops was preferable to Thefeni's body odor.
“I will pay five in advance, five after we board, and the remaining eight to the captain when we disembark.”
“Five now is too low. Very low.” He protested and thumped his chest like a bad actor.
I held position, and he relented. I paid him, and we turned to leave.
Thefeni made sure to remind us.
“Ship leaves harbor as soon as the moon reaches halfway, make sure to be there. I have made great arrangements, very great!”
A cool wind blew from the open sea. The moon was past the zenith. The grain ship was busy with activity.
It was a beautiful vessel—painted on each side with various Egyptian deities and Greek gods. It was a large ship with at least three levels and tall, impressive masts.
Eurydice and I watched, hiding under an inverted boat supported by logs.
Men stood on the sides, slaves lighted lamps, supervisors yelled and screamed at workers to complete departure procedures, and soldiers milled around. Sellers crowded the areas hawking their last-minute wares to the sailors—sweets, clothes, magical potions to perform like a bull, perfumes—Alexandria lived night or day.
A rough man, the captain I guessed, stood at the bottom of the loading plank shouting angrily at a harried Thefeni.
I strained to hear the conversation.
“They are not on board, Thefeni, you are testing my patience!”
“Meurius. Meurius. What if they slipped past your eyes?”
“No one slips past my eyes, are you stupid? You have been here before the moon rose. My sentries have been on watch. No one has seen them.”
The furious captain continued his tirade.
“You have delayed my ship. The winds are picking up, and we will not be ready to leave in the morning. I must pay my crew an extra day because of your nonsense. Tell your military goons to get off my ship, or there will be hell to pay!”
I watched Thefeni consider his options. He signaled an assistant who went up the loading platform into the ship. The captain had his arms crossed and continued to shout at Thefeni, who now looked like he would rather be flogged.
We then watched heavily armed Macedonian soldiers come to view. My heart beat rapidly as each man stepped off the loading plank and stood on the ground.
The last man was a giant. And he had a strange contraption which tied his jaws to his skull, like a monster from children’s stories.
Nekh-Aser.
The Egyptian towered over a terrified Thefeni, and I could not hear what he growled through his broken jaws—thanks to my handiwork.
“I swear, I swear they came to me. He and his witch of a wife.”
And after a few testy exchanges, the soldiers got ready to leave. I heard Thefeni whine one last time.
“Will I be compensated in some way for trying—"
Nekh-Aser backhanded Thefeni, who screamed in terror and fell to the ground. He grunted as one of the soldiers kicked him in his large behind. His assistant stood paralyzed.
Nekh-Aser stood straight. He then turned and looked around slowly, and at one point I sensed his eyes connect with mine. Eurydice stiffened beside me. I held her hand.
But of course, in flickering night lamps and torches, all Nekh-Aser would see was a play of shadows. He turned, and his men vanished into the darkness.
We waited until all men left and the lamps on the ship went dark. The sellers disappeared into the night. We made our way to the far western quarters that was still developing and inhabited by the poor and the wretched.
A willing homeowner allowed us in, accepting us as vagrant travelers, in exchange for a coin—a steep price for what was nothing but a little mud room.
We waited until our nerves calmed.
“How did you know?” asked Eurydice.
“Have you ever seen an experienced merchant accept a counter less than half his price and barely haggle?”
She looked at me thoughtfully.
“Thefeni is Persian. I have haggled with more than thirty-five Persian merchants for reasons big and small, and not one of them settled like this. I can tell you the opening and settled price on every transaction in the last ten years.”
She smiled. “He must have received word that there was a reward on our heads when we were there.”
I nodded. “And he sold us out.”
We had come within a finger’s width of capture and torture. We had to get back on the ship tomorrow. I was sure no one would come back looking for us.
But first I would visit the fat man.
Thefeni stayed at an opulent house close to his tent. I knew he lived alone, a detail he had shared with me while looking hungrily at Eurydice. He had no guards for the house. Alexandria was not a haven for thieves—the rapidly growing trade and construction businesses employed most people. Thievery was not worth the risk of capture and execution.
Local protectors walked the streets now and then, keeping an eye for unscrupulous elements, but no one was around now.
I climbed the wall and tiptoed towards the door. A quick inspection of the open windows, left so to allow air, showed Thefeni asleep on a large bed, with nothing but a loincloth.
He snored with his mouth open, and his stomach rose and fell rhythmically.
It passed my mind that as he slept fitfully, we might be in the hands of Nekh-Aser, in torture, or already dead.
I used my tricks and opened the lock.
And then I tiptoed to his room.
I rushed across the floor and thrust a thick cloth into his mouth.
Then I punched him hard on his belly.
Thefeni’s eyes opened wide, and his neck snapped up. He tried to scream, but nothing came out.
I punched him in his belly again—he doubled in pain and pulled his legs up to his stomach.
I then thrust a finger in the ring that hung from his ear and ripped it off.
He screamed in agony; the shouts muffled under the rag.
Then I straddled him.
“Scream, and I will stab you in the eye.”
He nodded vigorously.
I removed the gag, and he heaved. Nothing came out except guttural sounds, and he threw up on the bed. The stench was overpowering.
“Answer my questions, and I will walk away.”
Nodding.
“How did Nekh-Aser find out about us?”
“W-Who?”
“The Egyptian.”
“Reward. Ten gold coins. Y-You and your wife… Please…”
“Does the whole city know?”
“N-N-No. Discreet. Big merchants, traders…please…”
“Name of the grain ship captain?”
“Meurius, yes, Meurius, great captain!”
“Honorable?”
“Yes, yes, yes.”
“Does he know who I am?”
“No. He has no idea. None.”
“Will you speak of me to anyone tomorrow?”
“No, no, not at all,” he grunted and held his ears to stem the bleeding.
&n
bsp; “If there is even a hint that you opened your mouth, I will hunt you down, slice you piece by piece, and feed you to the Crocodiles.”
He nodded, and then placed a palm over his stomach and began to nurse it.
I stood up to leave but asked him one last question.
“Does the Egyptian know Tharbazus employed me?”
Thefeni bowed and began to weep.
I ran to Tharbazus’ house. I ducked behind narrow alleys, avoided startled dogs, and jumped over the occasional sleeping vagrant. It was a quiet night, bright enough for me to run without the help of a torch.
It was quiet in Tharbazus’ house. I checked to ensure no one was watching the house.
And then I tapped the door.
Wake up!
I whispered through clenched teeth.
“Tharbazus, wake up, this is urgent!” I tapped on the door several times, using the ring on my finger to make a metallic sound on the iron lock on the door.
I heard the bolt click, and his wife peered through the door.
“Deon?”
“You need to get out now. Where is your husband? Tell everyone to leave!”
I made my way into the house.
“Wake everyone up.”
She did not panic. I admired her poise—this woman was accustomed to dangers because of her husband’s trade.
“What is going on?”
“This is not about your husband’s work. The military is looking for me, and the man who heads the soldiers now knows I lived here. And he is a very, very evil man.”
She nodded. And without question, she roused the household quickly and efficiently.
Everyone was present except—
“Where are your husband and son?”
“They went on some business South of the city, expected to return in the morning.”
I cursed.
“We cannot wait. Do you have a place you can go to, a secure second home?”
“We have a small farmhouse no one knows about, further west.”
“Go there, now. Avoid the main street, stick to alleys. All of you.”
“Are they in danger?”
I looked at her calm face in the flickering candlelight. She was strong.
“Maybe. I will watch the house and warn them if I see them heading this way.”
She gathered some bread, meat, a few candles, coins, and herded her family out the door. I watched them dissipate into the night and sighed with relief.
I found a well-concealed viewing point nearby.
And I waited in silence.
I did not have to wait long. A small group, hunched in the darkness, wearing capes, approached the house. I could make out that they were dragging two adults.
Tharbazus and his son.
Nekh-Aser was behind them, kicking and punching. Tharbazus resisted, but one of the officers pulled the boy to the side and made threatening gestures. Tharbazus relented, and soon they were inside the house. I felt helpless. There was little I could do from here. As I mulled my options, the men streamed out of the house. Nekh-Aser paced around, agitated. He made several gestures at Tharbazus, who, it was clear, had no satisfactory answers to the Egyptian.
How could he? We were not at his house, and he had no idea where we were. But he must have taken some comfort in the fact that his family was no longer in the house.
They made the son kneel on the ground. Tharbazus continued to make frantic gestures.
Nekh-Aser lifted his spiked club and brought it down on the son’s head. The boy collapsed, and his father sagged and fell to the ground in a heap of despair.
Nekh-Aser did not stop.
He turned towards Tharbazus and swung again, like a crazed executioner smashing a bull’s skull as I had seen in some rituals. The swinging continued until all that was left of the lender was chunks of flesh and shattered bone, splattered on the dry Alexandrian ground.
I vowed on all that is holy I that I would wreak terrible revenge on this godless man.
We learned that Nekh-Aser had left Alexandria to go to the eastern town of Heraklion. Did Tharbazus mislead them in his last moments? I would never know, but if he did, I prayed eternal happiness for him and his child in the afterlife.
I asked Eurydice to stay hidden, while I resolved our travel plans. It was not hard to find Meurius near the docks. I followed him at the markets as he went about his daily business.
Meurius looked every bit a veteran Greek captain. Curly hair, dignified stubble. He walked with a slight limp. He dressed more in a manner akin to the Egyptians, no doubt to please the land he was doing business with.
I finally caught up to him.
“Greetings, Captain Meurius.”
He jerked at my sudden intrusion. His eyes narrowed. “Greetings. And you are?”
“A fellow soldier. Never had the privilege of working for Navarch Nearchus.”
He raised his eyebrows at my mention of the famed Alexander’s admiral. Nearchus had led the King’s navy from the Indus on the journey back to Persia.
“It was you the military was looking for yesterday.”
Astute man.
I nodded. And a sly smile spread on his face.
“How did you know I was with Nearchus?”
“Your tattoo.”
He glanced over his shoulder. And there was a distinct little figure of a boy holding two twigs and standing on what seemed like a raft — a symbol I had seen in the soldiers aligned to the Navy.
“Where were you?”
“Riding through Gedrosia with Alexander.”
“A terrible journey.”
“Even gods make mistakes.”
We both smiled ruefully. That desert voyage had cost thousands of lives.
Meurius walked into a fruit seller's stand. “I did not think you would notice a little symbol.”
“People say I have a good memory.”
“Not better than my wife. She remembers what I did fifteen years ago,” he said, as he picked an orange and inspected it.
We both laughed.
“How did you come to this business?” I asked.
“I discharged after we reached land. Got tired of war. Made some connections, used the money from the campaign and started this enterprise. Good so far,” he said, looking at the harbor, his new livelihood away from the blood and tears.
“I need your help, Captain.”
We continued to walk along the busy path. Someone behind was shouting, “Pottery! The finest pottery from Cyprus you will ever see!”
Meurius kept his head down as we walked. “You are a wanted man, why should I take the risk?”
“A minor dispute. They will not come back looking for me.” I hoped he would take me at my word.
“The trip is not free.”
“I understand. I will pay what I promised Thefeni.”
“He will not be happy.”
“He does not need to know.”
Meurius nodded and pointed at me. “If the soldiers come back I will hand you over to them. I cannot risk my business and employees, even for a fellow soldier.”
“I understand. When should we embark?”
“Wait until the sun sets. I will look for you once we turn off most of our lamps.”
“I will be with—”
“She is not your wife—"
“No. But she is dear to me.”
“I do not know what you are up to, but I do not want to know,” he grinned.
“Thank you, captain. Someday I will repay you.”
“I hope I will not come to regret this,” he said, without expression.
“I promise that you will not. But you should know our destination is not Athens.”
“So where do you plan to disembark?”
“Somewhere after Crete.”
It was now time to ask that critical question. “Are you aware of any island shaped like an eye, on the way?”
I waited in anticipation.
Captain Meurius raised an eyebrow.
&nb
sp; “An eye? Well, I don’t know about an eye, but there is an island not far from Crete that looks like one. Long ago I heard they used to call it Stronghyle, the round one, you can see for yourself.”
Excitement creeped up on me but I did not show it to him. Would this island be the ghost’s eye? The land of the original Atlantean empire? We would soon find out. “Wonderful, we may disembark there.”
The Captain continued, “That is an unusual request. That island gets very little trade traffic due to the poor harbors and very deep water by the cliffs. What are you looking for, there? It will cost, you understand.”
“I understand.”
“Where do you plan to go?”
“Phrygia. Through Halicarnassus.”
“Ah, there is some traffic that way. But be careful—you will come across the military and pirates.”
How wonderful.
But things had gone better than I hoped. Unless Meurius was another dirty double-crosser, we would be able to move forward. I thanked the captain and headed back to Eurydice, who, I knew, would be waiting with a tense stomach.
We bought fresh garment before boarding, and apart from what was in the bag, nothing indicated that I was a soldier or Eurydice anything but a farmer’s wife. I wore a light chiton but no chlamys, a basic leather belt, and tied sandals. She wore a cream tunic that ended at her knees, a straphion to hold her breasts, and a leather belt that looked no different than mine. We purchased a simple threaded necklace made of fake gemstones and two ear-rings because she complained she did not want to look like a boy. She had cut her hair to shoulder length after I warned her of the risks of long hair when in fights.
It was time to say goodbye to Pharaoh Ptolemy.
I had never seen such deep turquoise.
The sea extended all around us, and a pleasant breeze whipped our face. We watched the ripples on water as the grain ship sailed on its way to Athens, now past Crete.
“Glad to share this second meal with you both,” I said, as I greeted the captain and his right-hand. They bowed in acknowledgment.
“Always glad to share stories with a fellow soldier. You both appear to be enjoying your time on the deck,” said Meurius.