Sem- Adventures Across Time

by T S Wieland

  “What do you know about Seleucus trying to kill Alexander?” asked Ptolemy over Oliver’s quiet weeping.

  “All she said was that she saw a man give him a bottle,” said Sem, trying to lift Oliver to his feet as Oliver clung to his robes. “Will you just get up?”

  “Sorry,” said Oliver. He wiped his eyes and tried his best to keep himself together.

  “What did this man look like?” asked Ptolemy. He stood up from the stage and strode over to Sem.

  “I don’t know. I never saw him. She did say he had a burn scar on his neck, I think,” replied Sem. Oliver now stood at his side.

  “Burn scar? If Seleucus was seeking out poison to kill Alexander, there’s only one apothecary in the city fits that description. He owns the shop further down the street from here with a garden at the rear.”

  “She said he had a letter delivered to him before we arrived.”

  “A letter?” asked Ptolemy seemingly growing concerned.

  “Yeah, she didn’t say who it was from, just that he got a letter and was told to give Seleucus the poison he needed, and that in return, he would be rewarded. My best guess is, if we could steal that letter, you’d have all the proof you need,” said Sem.

  “Did you say steal?” asked Oliver, making out only Sem’s words in the conversation.

  “Yeah. Why?” asked Sem, looking at him and hoping he wasn’t going to cry again.

  “If you need to steal something, I think I can help.”

  “What did he say?” asked Ptolemy, now feeling left out of the conversation.

  Sem lifted his hand up to Ptolemy, telling him to wait a minute. Ptolemy looked at Sem with an insulted expression. Sem directed his attention to Oliver. “How can you help?”

  “I’m a pickpocket. It helped my sister and I get by. I wasn’t proud of it. Probably the only thing I’m good at. If you're needing someone to steal something . . .”

  Sem lifted his eyebrows, intrigued.

  “Listen, if you agree to get me out of here and back home to my sister, I’ll help you steal this letter.”

  “Deal.”

  Sem snickered having already planned to save Oliver, of course, though getting him back home would still be a problem.

  “What did he say?” asked Ptolemy, sounding impatient.

  “Get back to Alexander and wait for us at the bridge on the north side. Make sure there aren’t any soldiers around. We’ll get the letter and meet you there,” ordered Sem.

  “What are you going to do?” asked Ptolemy.

  “Get that letter,” replied Sem, grabbing Oliver by the arm and beginning to make his way up the street towards the apothecary shop.

  Ptolemy watched the two of them walk into the darkness of the streets and disappear. He looked around to make sure no one had been watching. He shook his head in disapproval, now leaving the fate of his king in the hands of two thieves who spoke in strange tongues. He only questioned if they would return soon in one piece.

  Chapter 15

  Faith from Destiny

  Holding Ally by the wrist, Alexander pulled her through the palace as she dripped across the floor, with all eyes from his guests now watching the two of them. The whispers and gossip had already begun to spread, but Alexander maintained a firm face and a strong grip on Ally’s arm.

  As they approached Alexander’s suite, two soldiers stood idly talking to one another out front. Ally chose not to struggle; sensing Alexander meant no harm to her. The two soldiers snapped back to attention on either side of the curtain as they saw Alexander. Forcefully, Alexander pushed Ally through the curtain doorway before turning back to speak to the guards. “Do not allow anyone to enter without my permission.”

  Both guards nodded.

  Ally stood in the suite, watching Alexander as he turned around. He glanced at her for a moment. Feeling tired and in need of self-medication, he walked over to the decorated table in the corner. He lifted the pitcher up off the table and tilted it to fill his glass, only to find it was empty.

  “Ri, bring me more wine!” he shouted before throwing the vase to the floor, shattering it to pieces. Ally jumped and stepped back, still soaking wet, watching him. She looked around the room at the glazed stone floor and polished black stone columns.

  Alexander walked over to the foot of the bed and grabbed a robe that was draped across the decorative bench. He tossed the garment over to her. “Dry yourself and put something warm on before you freeze.”

  He turned his back to her, walked over to the stone balcony, and stood at the railing.

  Ally looked at the light pink, silk robe in her hands. She meandered behind a nearby column to change, watching Alexander as he stood on the balcony and gazed out over the city with his back to her. Removing the soaking wet robe, Ally quickly realized she still wore her modern style clothes underneath.

  She slipped her wet clothes off using the damp robe for cover, trying her best not to draw attention. At once, a servant girl, Ri, walked in carrying a pitcher of wine. Ally stood with her arms up, shirt halfway off, hoping the servant wouldn’t notice.

  The servant glanced at her and seemed to take no notice of Ally’s modern clothing now lying on the floor. She focused her attention solely on filling a cup of wine and bringing it over to Alexander.

  Ally hurried to remove the rest of her wet clothes and put the pink robe on while the servant girl was distracted. She wrapped her wet clothes up in the wet robe to hide them and placed them on the bench at the foot of the bed. Ri left the two of them in the room alone as Alexander dismissed her with a wave of his hand.

  Staring out across the rooftops of the slumbering city, Alexander drank his wine in the warm torchlight. Ally quietly walked over to the balcony.

  “The city sleeps as its king waits to discover an unforgivable truth,” mumbled Alexander. “Your actions have brought much unsteadiness to my heart.”

  Ally stood in the doorway of the balcony. “I’m sorry, Alexander...”

  “No...,” He turned around to silence her. “I should be the one expressing my apologies. Without your actions, I would have remained ignorant of the truth.”

  Alexander stared at the city, placing his cup on the railing. “Since we turned back, I have feared my men would betray me. They longed to be home, with their families and to hold their wives. A man’s love for his family and home will always be stronger than any army a king can command.”

  “I understand that better than anyone,” Ally replied as she lowered her head.

  “Tell me, why do you venture across unknown lands with your brother in search of lost souls whom you do not even know? Such a task seems reckless and idiotic, yet you maintain your determination all the same.”

  “Se—, Cypress, is the one with determination,” said Ally as she walked out onto the balcony and stood next to him. “I came trying to prove something to myself.”

  “And what would that be?”

  “That I wasn’t afraid. I’ve let my life be controlled by my own fears and anxieties for so long, I knew the only way I could ever overcome them was by accompanying him. That, and I was pressured into it by a very caring man.”

  “I envy your bravery,” replied Alexander. He drank the rest of his wine. “I once shared the same bravery; however, I chose to let it manifest into pride. Pride so solid, so strong, not even the finest artisan could shape it. Now, I have let my pride push me away from those I once called brothers.”

  “You still have your legacy,”

  “My legacy will be burned at my side. As my generals now scheme and plan my death, I know they also plan to destroy my legacy. My name may be stripped from history and buried by the sands of time, with only myself to blame for it.”

  Ally shook her head at Alexander’s pessimism, unable to believe the doubt in his voice.

  “Alexander, your accomplishments will go down in history and be written about for thousands of years to come. You conquered nations not just with your acts of war, but through your generosity and sea
rch for peace. Leaders from all across the world will be inspired by your victories and leadership. While great heroes in Greece will fade into myth, your name will become historical.

  You created one of the greatest cities and libraries in the world. A world of knowledge so significant that its destruction will bring about hundreds of years of darkness. Your life is one of the most important throughout history.”

  Reflecting on his accomplishments, Alexander bowed his head. He had crossed vast plains and seas, witnessed sights that most men had heard in stories, built cities that could never be matched in beauty, and had fallen in love with people his heart now ached to see again.

  “Don’t ever doubt yourself, Alexander. You’re an amazing leader, and you’ve done so much in so little time,” said Ally, her voice brimming with confidence.

  “You speak as though these things have already happened. You must either be an oracle or a very clever liar to say such things,” he replied, turning his head away from her to wipe his eyes on his shoulder.

  “I’m an oracle, then, because I’m not lying.”

  “Good. My faith has been well placed in you and your brother, in that case, Artemis,” he replied putting a hand on her shoulder.

  “Why did you save me? Not that I’m ungrateful,” asked Ally.

  “I saw truth within you. With the possibility of my own men now wishing for my death, even the most innocent and unlikely of strangers in my travels seemed trustworthy. And I felt as though there was something special about you two. That perhaps you had been sent by the gods to aid me.”

  “I hope your instinct has been right so far,” replied Ally, smiling.

  “Indeed, it has been.”

  Ally pulled her hair back into a ponytail and felt her wrist for a hair tie. Her wrist was bare. Her only tie had fallen off during her swim in the garden moat.

  Alexander glanced over at her. He removed the silver, metal band from his wrist and placed it in Ally’s hand.

  “A gift. For your kind words and trust. May the links remind you that bravery must never be chained by our fears, as we both have allowed to happen in the past.”

  Ally looked at the bracelet, admiring the polished links. “Thank you.”

  She smiled with gratitude. She pulled her hair back and wrapped the band around her ponytail.

  “Alexander!” shouted Ptolemy from outside the doorway after the soldiers attempted to stop him from entering.

  Alexander and Ally’s attention turned around. Alexander lifted his hand to call off the soldiers, allowing Ptolemy to enter freely.

  “I bring word.”

  Alexander raised a finger to his lips, then waved Ptolemy over out of earshot from prying ears at the doorway.

  “Did you find him?” asked Alexander.

  “Yes.”

  “Is he alright?”

  “Yes, my lord. He is safe.”

  “You found Cypress?” questioned Ally.

  “Yes,” replied Ptolemy, nodding out of breath.

  Finally, Ally’s worries were lifted. She sighed, knowing she was no longer alone and that her guide was still alive.

  “Good. What word do you bring?”

  “They have evidence of Seleucus’s treachery. A letter proving treason,” coughed Ptolemy.

  “Where is it, then?” asked Alexander.

  Ptolemy took a deep breath, preparing to tell his story.

  ◆◆◆

  Oliver and Sem stopped outside the only shop decorated with a wooden overhang and draping vines that extended to a small garden on the side. Ducking down below the window. Sem scanned the streets to see only a single couple talking loudly outside their home.

  The sign above the shop was foreign to him, but he guessed based upon the garden at the rear and collection of bottles inside, this must be the place.

  “What’s your plan?” asked Sem as he stood next to Oliver in the moonlight.

  “I thought you had a plan,” said Oliver, looking back at him. “You said steal a letter, so I just offered to help.”

  “Yeah, you're the one who said you were a master thief,” whispered Sem.

  “Not true! I said I was just a pickpocket. Not a master thief.”

  “So, what do you suggest we do then?”

  “I don’t know. I just pocket things from stores and off of people most of the time. I’m not a cat burglar,” replied Oliver, quirking his lips.

  “Ugh, fine. I’ll distract the shop owner down below. You climb up the scaffolding with the vines to the second story and see if you can find that letter anywhere. Once you have it, climb back out and wave to me out front of the shop. Understood?”

  “What kind of letter am I looking for?”

  “I don’t know, use your eyes. Anything that mentions Alexander.”

  “Who?” asked Oliver.

  “Just go,” replied Sem, rolling his eyes.

  Oliver turned around and hurried while crouched low to the ground to the scaffolding in the garden. Sem waited in the streets until Oliver was in position. He lifted the cover off his communicator and looked down at the time. He had three hours and twenty-two minutes left.

  He heaved a deep sigh. He covered his communicator and walked up to the shop door. He could see the apothecary through the door window, standing at the counter at the other end of the shop, sorting through his coins.

  Sem opened the door and strode into the shop, smiling at the dark, bearded man as he entered. The apothecary looked up at him and smiled back. He casually slid the coins into a bag with his palm.

  “I’m sorry, but I am closed,” said the apothecary, tightening the bag and placing it under the counter.

  Sem hobbled over to the desk, exaggerating his pain. “Deepest apologies sir. But, I’m looking for something to help soothe my leg.”

  The apothecary looked at Sem’s leg for a moment, noticing the faded wet blood stain on his robe. “Ah… might I ask what ails you, sir?”

  “Well, I was attacked the other day. Nothing broken, luckily, just needing something to ease the pain.”

  “Simple fix, very easy,” replied the apothecary. He turned around and sorted through some of the bottles on the shelf behind him. Sem could see the dark burn scar on his neck, reassuring him that this was the right man.

  Climbing up the tangled vines of the wooden scaffolding, Oliver reached the top, hoping the wood beams would support his weight. With a small window ahead of him, closed off by a small wooden shutter, Oliver crept over to the window and yanked on the shutter to pry it open.

  Sem stood at the counter as the apothecary searched through the bottles for one in particular. The sudden sound of Oliver ripping the shutter open could be heard upstairs. The apothecary stopped and listened for a moment.

  Oliver entered the upstairs room with a deep thud, capturing both Sem and the apothecary's attention.

  The man looked up at the ceiling.

  “What did you have in mind?” asked Sem. Sem glanced up at the ceiling, then back at the man trying to lure his attention.

  The man turned around and stared at him.

  “Uh, yes! I have just the thing here.”

  He turned his attention back to his shelf and continued to search through the bottles.

  Sem sighed softly and continued to wait, hoping Oliver would be quieter.

  Oliver searched around the small but tidy room and noticed the table sitting at the far end. A single oil lamp sat perched on the table, which illuminated the room. He hurried over to the table and began sorting through the rough pieces of parchment paper scattered across its surface in an attempt to find the one he was looking for.

  Sem stood in the shop below, anxiously listening for Oliver's movements upstairs.

  “Ah, this is the one. Here, sir, swallow this mixture, and I can guarantee you that leg will never hurt again. Not even for an itch,” said the apothecary turning around with a bottle in his hand.

  “Wonderful!” replied Sem, a little too enthusiastically.

  The man s
miled and handed Sem the mixture in a glass bottle.

  Sem looked at the mixture through the bottle for a moment, attempting to buy Oliver as much time as possible. “What’s in it?”

  “Unfortunately, it’s a personal secret. However, I can assure you, the mixture will ease even the most brutal of pains.”

  Upstairs, Oliver flipped through the many pages on the desk, noticing that they all were written in a language he couldn’t read. Shifting his stance, he leaned from one side of the table to the other, frantically trying to find the letter. The stool resting at his feet fell over onto its side, bouncing off on the solid floor.

  Sem and the apothecary both looked up at the stairs.

  “Good! How much do I owe you?” asked Sem trying to draw the apothecary's attention again.

  “Uh, will you excuse me for just one moment?” asked the apothecary, still fixated on the sound. He grabbed the bottle from Sem’s hand and placed it back on the shelf before making his way over to the stairs.

  Sem stood, desperately trying to come up with another reason for the man to stay downstairs.

  Oliver heard the sudden sound of the man’s steps on the stairs near him. He grabbed all the papers off the table before attempting to hide beneath it. He sat quietly with his knees tight to his chest, holding the papers, trying his best not to crunch them in his panicked clutches.

  Sem watched the man march up the stairs, knowing his plan was foiled if he didn’t act quickly. Looking at the oil lamp at the back of the shop, he hatched an idea. As the apothecary reached the top stair, Sem hurried around the counter.

  Oliver sat under the table quietly. He watched the man's feet approach the table and pace around the room as he searched for the source of the noise. Looking around the room for a minute, the man noticed the window shutter was broken and the stool now lying on the floor.

  As the man walked over to the stool, Oliver held his breath. He could feel the space under the table growing hotter.

  The man reached down and picked the stool up, as Oliver watched him from the dark shadows. The apothecary set the stool down upright on the floor. He stood for a second, wondering what could have caused the stool to fall, before noticing Oliver's shadow cowering under the table. The apothecary bent down to look closer.