By what magic of the gods does a certain human face, that face and no other, become so important to us, the focus of our deepest longings, the answer to all questions? To gaze upon that face, and no other, is to find stillness in the midst of chaos, contentment in the midst of despair, pleasure in the midst of whatever pain and confusion life may throw at us. Axiothea’s face was very nearly that face—almost, but not quite. Looking at her, I felt many things at once, and my thoughts became a jumble.
Axiothea leaned toward me and put her hand on my arm. I looked at Tafhapy, thinking he might be displeased by her show of affection, however mild, but his demeanor remained aloof. If anything, he seemed to approve of Axiothea’s compassionate gesture.
“Why did you send Djet to fetch me?” I whispered.
“Answer my question first. Why did you want to see Axiothea? Did you have a question for her?”
“Yes.”
“Ask it now.”
I looked into her eyes. Curiously, they were the part of her that least resembled Bethesda; never could I have mistaken the eyes of one for the other. Looking into Axiothea’s eyes, I was able to maintain my composure.
“When did you last see Bethesda? How did you come to be parted? Do you know what’s become of her?”
“I last saw Bethesda in the market on the waterfront. She said she needed to relieve herself. She knew where to find the public latrina. I offered to go with her, but she insisted there was no need. While she was gone, Djet appeared, sent by his master to find me. Tafhapy had watched our performance, sitting in his litter. When the king’s soldiers arrived, his own bodyguards formed a cordon around him, so that he didn’t see the escape of the mime troupe, and had no idea what had happened to us. He was terribly worried about me. I couldn’t leave him in suspense. I had to go to him.”
“So you left Bethesda behind?”
“Not at once. I waited for her—for a while—but at last I went off with Djet. You and Melmak and the rest were only a short distance away, and the market was full of people. I never imagined that any harm would come to her. I certainly never imagined that…”
She reached down to retrieve the scrap of papyrus I had dropped and handed it back to me.
“They say they captured me, Gordianus, yet here I sit. When the first message was left on the doorstep a few days ago, Tafhapy didn’t tell me about it. But he did insist that I stay here at the house, thinking to protect me from these deluded kidnappers while he tried to figure out who they were and what they were up to. To keep me from leaving, the sweetheart plied me with every indulgence. I thought he was merely doting on me! But today, when this second ransom note arrived, he showed it to me, along with the first. I found the messages as baffling as he did—until I realized what must have happened. The kidnappers must have had some idea of what I look like and where they might find me; perhaps they even knew I was dressed in green. But the woman they came upon was Bethesda. Thinking she was me, they ran off with her. They sent the first message to Tafhapy, believing they had me in their power. The second message indicates that, as of today, they’re still holding Bethesda, thinking she’s me.”
“Unless…” My tongue turned to stone and refused to utter the thought.
Axiothea lowered her eyes. “Yes, I thought of that. What if … what if they killed the girl they thought to be me, and they lie when they say their captive is still alive. Yes, that’s possible, but—”
“But not likely,” said Tafhapy. “Kidnapping is quite common these days. People of property must deal with such unpleasantness on a regular basis. But almost always, certain rules apply.”
“Rules?” I said.
“Yes. First and foremost is that the hostage is kept alive and well—indeed, often pampered, as if he or she were a sacred cat in a temple—and returned unharmed after the money is paid. It’s the way this sort of thing is done. Only a very stupid or very careless kidnapper would kill his hostage—especially if the man he dared to extort was me.”
Axiothea smiled. “Tafhapy the Terrible, they call him.”
“Who calls him that?” I asked.
“Anyone who dares to cross me!” said Tafhapy. “I suspect this girl called Bethesda is being kept alive and well by her captors, who thought she was Axiothea when they abducted her, and continue to think so.”
“Bethesda is deliberately passing for Axiothea?” I said.
“Why not? This girl looks like Axiothea, does she not? And if she’s even half as clever as Axiothea, she will have figured out what’s happened and realized it’s to her advantage to go along with her captors’ mistake. Quite likely she’s being held in some degree of comfort, given the high value they attach to their prize. Perhaps the girl is living in better circumstances than she’s used to. She may even be enjoying herself. If she’s being coddled enough, she may even prefer the company of these brigands, as opposed to being your captive.”
“My captive?”
“Isn’t every slave a captive, strictly speaking, no matter how mild her master?”
I was torn by powerful emotions—distress at the likelihood that Bethesda had been kidnapped in Axiothea’s stead, relief that Tafhapy believed she was safe, then more distress at his suggestion that she might actually be enjoying the separation that was causing me such misery.
“What am I to do?” I muttered.
“Go after her, of course,” said Tafhapy.
“What?”
“Go after her and get her back. That is, if you’re as smitten with the girl as you appear to be.”
“Smitten? Of course, I’m upset. Bethesda is my property. She’s been stolen from me. They had no right—”
“Ah, so this is a matter of honor and justice,” Tafhapy said. “Whatever your motivations, if you want the girl, you must find some way to get her back. Can you pay the sort of ransom these bandits are likely to demand?”
I shook my head. “I don’t suppose … that you…”
“That I might pay the ransom?” Tafhapy threw back his head and laughed.
“Perhaps … perhaps you could communicate with the kidnappers, and let them know that they’ve taken the wrong person. Once they know Bethesda is merely a poor man’s slave, they’ll understand what she’s worth, and I might be able to buy her back.”
“And how would that be to my advantage? As long as these men think they’re holding Axiothea, they’ll leave the real Axiothea alone. Against my better judgment—because Axiothea insisted I do so—I’ve done you the favor of telling you what’s become of your slave, Gordianus. I didn’t owe you even that much.”
“But how am I to find her?”
“Ah, with that I may be able to help you. When I was trying to make sense of that first, nonsensical ransom demand, I did some asking around, and I think I know which culprits are involved. No others, at this particular time, would dare to engage in such a risky enterprise, aimed at a person as powerful as myself. All signs indicate that we are dealing with the gang of the Cuckoo’s Child.”
“The Cuckoo’s Child?”
“That is what they call their leader. They are a particularly brazen gang of cutthroats who operate from a base somewhere in the Nile Delta. No ship travels up or down any of the river’s many branches, and no party traverses the land routes across the Delta, without fear of encountering these raiders. Until recently, their operations have been confined to the Delta, and here in Alexandria we had nothing to fear from them. But as King Ptolemy’s hold on the city has weakened, bandits and rebels everywhere in Egypt have been emboldened. The Delta has become a lawless place.” He shook his head. “Now even Tafhapy, minding his own business in his house in Alexandria, is targeted to pay ransom for a kidnapping. This can only be the work of the Cuckoo’s Child and his gang.”
Where had I recently heard the phrase “cuckoo’s child”? It had been in the mime show, in reference to a fictitious bastard brother of the king, but that seemed to have no relevance at the moment. “Who is this Cuckoo’s Child you speak of? Why do
they call him that, and what’s his real name? And how did he become the head of such a gang?”
“Ah, those are very good questions, Gordianus, to which King Ptolemy and his agents would very much like the answers. As far as I know, no one outside the gang knows the real name of the Cuckoo’s Child. These bandits take an oath, upon pain of death, never to reveal the true name of their leader, or that of any other member.” He smiled. “Perhaps you can find the answers to your questions from the Cuckoo’s Child himself, when you track him down and ask for the return of your slave.”
“Are you making fun of me, Tafhapy?”
His smile faded. “No, I am not. Though I may appear aloof to your misery, Gordianus, I, too, know the power of the heart’s desire, even over the strongest of men.” He glanced at Axiothea. “True, it was Axiothea who insisted that I bring you here, from a desire to help her new friends, you and this girl Bethesda. But I, too, wish you the blessings of Fortuna, if that Roman goddess will deign to influence the outcome of such a peculiar enterprise—the retrieval of a slave kidnapped by mistake.”
I shook my head. “The Delta is enormous, or so I’ve been told.”
“It is indeed,” said Tafhapy.
“Is it not a settled region, with villages and farms and roads?”
“Many areas are settled, yes. And there are roads that cross the Delta, with ferries to carry travelers and their camels across the many waterways, from one stretch of road to the next. But many parts of the Delta are wild and uncharted, and have been so since the time of the pharaohs. As it nears the sea, the Nile splits into countless channels, creating countless islands, large and small. Maps of the Delta are meaningless, because overnight a storm or a flood can change water to land, or land to water. There are marshes that no horse or camel can pass, tracts of quicksand that have swallowed whole armies without a trace, swamps and lagoons thick with man-eating crocodiles. Vast expanses are totally flat, covered with thick, scrubby vegetation, and devoid of landmarks, so that even the most experienced guides become hopelessly lost. These inhospitable regions of the Delta have long been a haven for all sorts of miscreants and misfits—criminal gangs, escaped slaves, deserters from the army and ex-soldiers fallen on hard times, outcast courtiers and even exiled members of the royal family. The most desperate men in all Egypt live in the Delta. They do as they please with impunity, beyond the reach of any law.”
“Surely no man in his right mind would venture into such a place,” I said.
“Surely not,” agreed Tafhapy.
I thought about this. Could I be described as a man in his right mind? Not since Bethesda’s disappearance. “If some fool were to go there, how would he find this gang of the Cuckoo’s Child?”
“The easternmost branch of the Nile is called the Pelusian. The westernmost, nearest to Alexandria, is called the Canopic. Between them, along with countless smaller waterways, are the five other major branches of the Delta. My informants believe they know on which of these branches, and approximately how close to the sea, the Cuckoo’s Child has established his latest stronghold—the Cuckoo’s Nest, it’s called. Should some fool decide to make the journey, I can provide more detailed directions.”
I swallowed hard. “But … what if Bethesda is being held not in the Delta, but here in Alexandria? For all we know, she may be only a stone’s throw from this house.”
“Unlikely,” said Tafhapy. “That’s not how these kidnappers operate. They will have taken her to the place where they feel most secure and where she will have the least chance of escape: the Cuckoo’s Nest.”
I considered everything he had told me. “If I should try to find this place, I’ll need to stall for time. These kidnappers must be made to think there’s still a chance they’ll receive a ransom. If you could lead them on, Tafhapy … if you could reply to their latest message, and to any others that may come … make them believe you’re willing to pay—”
“No, Gordianus. I thought I made myself clear: there will be no communication whatsoever between me and these brigands. Even so, I don’t think they’ll dispose of this girl too quickly. In kidnappings of this sort, it’s quite common for negotiations to drag on for months. The kidnappers will be patient. But from me, they will receive no response. This concerns your property. I’ve turned the matter over to you. I leave it entirely in your hands.”
“But I can’t take on a gang of brigands single-handed!”
“Hire bodyguards.”
“With what? I have no money.”
“Then get some money, Gordianus!” Tafhapy grunted, growing impatient. “Or simply get yourself a new slave girl.”
“But don’t you want to take revenge on these villains yourself, Tafhapy? Don’t you want to punish them for showing disrespect to you? Help me get the better of them. Lend me some of your bodyguards. Let me take a couple of those ebony giants sitting in your courtyard. You’d hardly miss them—”
“Alas, Gordianus, I have no bodyguards to spare. I shall need all the protection I can get, soon enough.”
“What do you mean?”
“Foreigner you may be, and too young to have much sense, but surely even you have some idea of what lies ahead. Do you not realize that Egypt is on the verge of civil war? The Delta has descended into utter lawlessness, a full-scale revolt has broken out upriver in Thebes, and the king may lose his hold on the army any day now. Anything may happen. Anything! I’m a man of property, Gordianus, facing an uncertain future. I would flee, but no port anywhere offers safe haven; the war between Mithridates and the Romans has seen to that. Whatever may befall Alexandria, here I shall stay. My home is my fortress, my bodyguards are my soldiers—and I have none to spare. And I have no money to spare, either, not even so much as a copper coin to give you. You’re on your own.”
I took this in, and felt thoroughly downhearted.
“But consider your advantages, young Roman,” said Tafhapy. “Quick wits, quick reflexes, a strong body, and the fearlessness of youth, born though it may be from ignorance and inexperience. I wish you well, Gordianus.”
Axiothea placed a hand on my shoulder and gave me a consoling look, then rose from her chair, drew close to Tafhapy, and whispered in his ear.
He considered what she had to say, then nodded. He called to Djet. The boy came running.
“I can’t spare any bodyguards, Gordianus, but I can grant you the loan of this boy.”
“What! He’s just a child.” And a rude one at that, I thought. “He’d only be a burden to me. A mouth to feed.”
“I myself have found Djet to be reasonably intelligent, mostly reliable, and adequately loyal. You may find him more useful than you think. If not, and he proves to be an encumbrance, feel free to feed him to the crocodiles—as long as you buy a replacement for me. This is my offer: for as long as it takes to track down your missing slave and bring her back to Alexandria, I grant you the use of this slave, free of charge. Take it or leave it.”
I shook my head. “It wouldn’t be fair to the boy. There’s certain to be danger—great danger. To take him from the safety of this house, on a trip into the wilds of the Delta, where bandits and raiders hold sway—”
“The Delta!” cried Djet, with a glimmer in his eyes. “I’ve always heard of it. A wild place, full of monsters and outlaws!”
Tafhapy laughed. “The boy’s enthusiasm alone must be worth something to you, Gordianus.”
I sighed. The idea of a feckless Roman and an even more feckless child heading to a hinterland full of cutthroats and crocodiles filled me with dread. But the alternative was to stay in Alexandria and watch the world fall apart—without Bethesda.
“Thank you, Tafhapy. I accept your offer. Well, then—where is this so-called Cuckoo’s Nest?”
IX
After collecting every debt owed to me, and accepting a surprisingly generous loan from Berynus and Kettel, I set out the next day with Djet for the southern gate of Alexandria.
To the north, Alexandria faces the sea, but to the south
it faces a large body of water called Lake Mareotis. A canal connects this lake with the distant Nile, allowing river barges to travel directly to the capital without venturing out to sea. Much of the grain grown along the floodplain of the Nile arrives on the southern wharves of Alexandria via the canal and Lake Mareotis.
Travelers also use the canal, which can be faster and cheaper than taking a camel or horse, especially since the roads in Egypt are notoriously bad. To be sure, the barges can be crowded—so crowded that sometimes they overturn. I found myself thinking about this as Djet and I were ushered, along with many others, from a pier on Lake Mareotis onto a long, narrow vessel manned not by rowers but by four men with long poles, two standing fore and two aft. The few places to sit were given to the oldest and most infirm among us, and the rest had to stand.
When the barge could hold no more passengers, the boatmen raised their poles and pushed against the mud on the lake bottom. The vessel left the dock, rocking from side to side so abruptly that Djet grabbed hold of my leg to steady himself, and more than a few of our fellow travelers uttered what I took to be prayers, some in Greek but most in the language of the native Egyptians.
I gazed back at the crowded shipyards and docks of the city, then I slowly turned, taking in the many-colored sails of the fishing vessels that dotted the lake. Towering palm trees ringed the shoreline. We headed steadily toward a break in the trees to the east; this was the mouth of the canal, marked by ornamental pylons on either side. The canal was wider than I expected. Even as I watched, two barges passed one another going in opposite directions, one entering the canal and the other leaving. As this second barge, heading for the pier, passed us, I saw that the deck was as crowded as ours, and the passengers looked even more miserable. Some of them had probably been standing all the way from Canopus.
Canopus! What stories I had heard about the place. As if opportunities for amusement were not great enough in Alexandria, the wealthy of the city (and those who could gather enough money to pretend they were wealthy, if only for a day) regularly flocked to the town of Canopus, only a day’s journey away, where their every whim could be indulged. Rich foods and fine wines, shops offering exquisite merchandise, venues for gambling, entertainments staged by exotic dancers and acrobats, and every imaginable pleasure of the flesh—all could be had in Canopus, for a price. The town had become a watchword not just for diversion and debauchery, but also for discretion. Thus the saying: things that happen in Canopus never leave Canopus.
Ancient World 02 - Raiders of the Nile Page 8