Ancient World 02 - Raiders of the Nile

by Steven Saylor

  “I should think there would always be trouble among such men,” I said. “With no rule of law to guide them, they must fight constantly—arguing over booty, bullying each other—the stronger dominating the weak.”

  Hepu shook his head. “If they wanted that sort of life, they would stay in the regular world! Were you not listening when I said the bandits follow a strict code of conduct? There’s no fighting over spoils. They divide everything that comes to them, equally—that’s the rule.”

  “Every man takes the same share?” said Djet.

  “Just so.”

  “Even the leader?” Djet seemed fascinated by such an idea.

  “Especially the leader! How do you think a man becomes the leader of a bandit gang? The others choose him, by a vote. If the leader should ever cheat them, or abuse them, or claim special privileges, soon enough he finds himself without a head, and the bandits pick a new man to lead them. It’s not like in the regular world, where a man who’s above you is above you all your life, because that’s how you both were born and you have no say in the matter. Ah, the bandits live a freer life than most of us can dream of.”

  “But they pay a price,” I said. “They’re outcasts. They have no families. If they’re captured, they’re hanged or crucified. And what about the terrible things they do? They kill and rob innocent people, and they … they kidnap people, too.”

  “I never said they weren’t lawbreakers,” said Hepu. “Why do you think my father beat the idea out of me, when I spoke of joining them?”

  I nodded thoughtfully. “You make it sound as if the ideal life would be one that allowed a man to move back and forth between the ordinary world and that of the bandits. To have the best of both worlds.”

  “In fact, there are such men,” said Hepu. “Spies, scouts, go-betweens. Men who live among us, with wives and families and regular work, but who also lead a double life, consorting with the bandits. And such men live not just in the Delta. They say the Cuckoo’s Gang is so widespread it has informers and affiliates as far as Pelusium to the east and Alexandria to the west—and even farther, all the way to Cyrene.”

  “But Cyrene is Roman now,” I said, without thinking. Coming from a Roman, the statement drew cool looks from the men around me. “I mean, ever since old Apion died … King Ptolemy’s bastard brother … and left Cyrene to the Romans … in his will…” By continuing to talk I was only digging a deeper hole for myself.

  “Be that as it may,” said Hepu, “they say the reach of the Cuckoo’s Gang extends even to Cyrene.”

  I cleared my throat. “You make it sound as if this Cuckoo’s Gang is a veritable state within a state. King Ptolemy has one government, and the bandits have another, invisible but operating right alongside the legitimate authorities.”

  “Just so,” said Hepu.

  “So this Cuckoo’s Gang is everywhere—and nowhere,” I said. “But surely they have some sort of home base.”

  “It’s called the Cuckoo’s Nest,” said Hepu.

  “Is it? And where is this Cuckoo’s Nest?”

  Hepu laughed, as did the others. “That, young Roman, is a very good question, to which many would like the answer—including the agents of King Ptolemy.”

  “Do you know where it is, Hepu?” I asked.

  “Indeed I do not. Nor does any man here, I daresay, or else they’d have lost their heads.”

  “Is it close?”

  “Less than a day’s journey from here, or so they say.”

  “Yes, but where?” I tried not to sound too eager.

  “All I know is this: if you turn south on that path over there, and follow it along this little branch of the Nile, you don’t have far to go before you begin to see warning signs.”

  “Warnings?”

  “Clear indications that you should go no farther. A crocodile’s skull on a stick … a rusty length of chain across the path … spikes sticking up from the roadbed. And then, if you dare to venture farther still, there are actual snares and traps—pits full of stakes, tripwires, loaded slingshots, falling objects. So they say. No man finds his way to the Cuckoo’s Nest by accident.”

  “No man finds his way there alive, I should think!” said Djet.

  Hepu cackled. “Smart boy!”

  I considered all the old man had told me, and felt a mingling of hope and dread. Bethesda might yet be alive and well, and very close, but how was I to reach her with such frightful obstacles before me?

  The conversation drifted to other matters—weather, crops, local gossip. I asked Menkhep if he might recommend a place where Djet and the camel and I could sleep for the night. He told me there was a village a mile or so to the east where I might find lodgings, but for a very small price he offered to share his dinner and let us sleep in a small lean-to behind the trading post. Since I intended to travel south the next day, and the village would be out of my way, I took him up on his offer.

  To thank everyone for their hospitality, including my host, I bought a round of beer for everyone. Menkhep’s beer seemed rather thin and slightly sour to me, but the locals seemed to enjoy it, especially old Hepu. When everyone’s thirst had been slaked, I excused myself and headed off with Djet to tend to the camel and arrange a comfortable sleeping place for us on the packed-earth floor of the lean-to.

  Menkhep served me more beer with our frugal dinner. It must have been the beer that allowed me to sleep that night, despite the excitement I felt. In the morning I would head south, watching for the signs that Hepu had spoken of. By day’s end, I might arrive at the Cuckoo’s Nest—or be floating lifeless down the Nile, having failed in the attempt.

  XVI

  The hour was not yet dawn when I woke to the familiar but unexpected voice of old Hepu, urgently saying the same thing over and over.

  “Wake up, Roman! Wake up!”

  I opened my eyes but saw nothing but a dark shape looming over me. Hepu, himself the color of night, was practically invisible in the darkness. He gave me a swift kick. The old man was not as feeble as he looked.

  I sat upright. Next to me, Djet rolled to one side but continued to snore.

  “Hepu!” I whispered. “What are you doing here? What do you want?”

  “All the way from my house outside the village I’ve walked, in the darkness, stepping over who knows how many scorpions and snakes—and this is how you thank me?”

  “For what should I be thanking you? Waking me up in the middle of the night?”

  “It’s not the middle of the night. It’s almost dawn. And that means they’re likely to come for you any time now.”

  I felt a prickle of dread. “What are you talking about, Hepu?”

  “You are the thief, aren’t you? The young Roman who killed that man in Canopus and ran off with his ruby?”

  “I—”

  “Don’t deny it! How many young Romans are traveling through the Delta on camelback, with no companion but a boy? It must be you.”

  “And what if it is? What are you trying to tell me?”

  Djet mumbled, then loudly shushed us. I gave him a firm nudge, but he hugged himself and clung to sleep.

  “They’ll be coming for you, very soon, young Roman. Coming for you, and for the ruby, so they can claim the reward.”

  “Who will be coming? And how do you know about this ruby?”

  “Yesterday, after I left the trading post, I walked home. After dark, a neighbor paid me a visit. He said some men from Sais had arrived in the village while I was here at Menkhep’s.”

  “Men … from Sais?”

  “Yes. They were led by a man with a long beard, called Harkhebi.”

  I rose to my feet and gave Djet a kick. He blinked and rubbed his eyes. “Go on, Hepu.”

  “The men from Sais called everyone to a meeting, where this fellow Harkhebi told a curious tale about a terrible murder in Canopus, and a Roman outlaw thought to be somewhere in the Delta, traveling on a camel with a boy. This man Harkhebi said there’s a generous reward for the Roman’s he
ad and for the return of the treasure he ran off with.”

  Djet at last scrambled to his feet, his eyes wide open.

  “All this my neighbor told me,” said Hepu, “just because he likes to gossip. Neither he nor any other villager at the meeting knew anything about you; only those of us here at Menkhep’s trading post yesterday met you, and none of us were at the meeting. My neighbor’s news so surprised me that I almost blurted out, ‘The Roman is spending the night with Menkhep!’ But before the words came out, I thought better of it, and shut my mouth. Who was I to betray a bandit like you, after all the things I said to you yesterday? I only wish I had known who and what you really are. What tales you might have told me, about you and your bandit friends!”

  I shook my head. “I’m not actually a bandit, Hepu.”

  “Ah, well, of course you have to say that, don’t you? Bandit’s oath of honor?” He gave me a toothless smile. “After my neighbor left, I went to bed. But sleep would not come. I tossed and turned. Surely, I thought, one of the men who was here yesterday will betray you. Old Rabi will do it, if no one else does.”

  “Rabi?”

  “It was he who made that rude joke about Roman women, and gave you such a sour look when you spoke of Cyrene. Rabi doesn’t like foreigners, and he’s a greedy bastard. If he didn’t hear about the meeting when he got home last night, he’ll surely hear about it first thing this morning, and then he’ll hurry at once to find this Harkhebi and set him on your trail. I couldn’t sleep, thinking of the terrible things they’ll do if they capture you. The hours of torture, the terrible pain, the slow, agonizing death—”

  “Yes, yes, I understand!”

  “So at last I gave up on sleeping, and I rose from my bed and walked all the way here to warn you. How my old feet ache! But why are we still talking? You must go at once, young Roman. I suppose you were heading for the Cuckoo’s Nest, anyway, eh? What other reason could you have to pass through this miserable backwater?” By the first faint light of dawn, I saw a twinkle of admiration in his rheumy eyes.

  “Yes, I … I am heading for the Cuckoo’s Nest.” I only spoke the truth.

  “Then you must be off at once, if you want to keep ahead of them. Ha! And there I was yesterday, telling you about the deadly traps and snares that keep outsiders from ever reaching the Cuckoo’s Nest! You must know all about those perils, and how to pass them safely.”

  “If only I did!” I muttered under my breath.

  Djet, who had apprehended the situation, needed no order from me to begin gathering up our things. He ran to the camel, which was tethered to a nearby palm tree, and began to rouse the beast, which shook its sleepy head and spat at him.

  I rushed to help Djet put on the camel’s riding tack, but the beast, irritated at being awakened so early, made the job twice as difficult as it should have been. As the dawn grew brighter, and still the camel was not yet ready to be mounted, I felt a rising panic.

  At last we were ready to set off. I checked the bag of treasure a final time, then reached inside and pulled out a silver ring set with a blood-red carnelian.

  I turned to Hepu and pressed the ring into the weathered palm of his hand.

  “Thank you, Hepu.”

  His rheumy eyes lit up. “Never have I seen something so lovely! Never have I held so much wealth in my hand!”

  I pressed his fingers shut. “Whatever you do, don’t let them find this on you. Hide it somewhere and come back for it later.”

  He nodded, and then, to my surprise, he put the ring in his mouth and swallowed it.

  “An old bandit trick,” he said. “But of course, you know that.”

  As I turned to mount the camel, he touched my arm.

  “Young Roman, one last favor!”

  “What is it, Hepu?”

  At the same moment, Djet grabbed my other arm. He pricked one ear, as if his keener hearing had detected a sound too faint for me to notice. His eyebrows shot up in alarm.

  “The ruby,” said Hepu. “I’ve never seen a ruby. Will you show it to me? Just one look…”

  “That noise,” whispered Djet. “Can’t you hear it? A twig breaking … and something rustling … over that way…”

  As quickly as I could, I pulled the ruby necklace from the sack and held it before Hepu. He let out a gasp. With trembling fingers he touched the crimson stone.

  A thought struck me: why not give the ruby to Hepu, and be rid of it? Such a bold gesture might please Fortuna, whose favor I needed now more than ever. But if it were truly cursed, why should I pass my misfortune to a man who was trying to save me? And what if the ruby was the price required to ransom Bethesda?

  The debate in my head abruptly ended when a voice cried out: “Look! The ruby!”

  I wheeled about and saw, framed by a patch of underbrush some thirty feet away, the face of Harkhebi. More men appeared to be bunched in a crowd behind him, largely hidden by the greenery.

  Harkhebi simply stood there and stared, as if transfixed by the ruby. I had been caught red-handed.

  In a single motion I stuffed the necklace back into the sack, mounted the camel, pulled Djet in front of me, and snapped the reins. The beast sprang upright with a sudden flailing of limbs that sent Hepu staggering backward.

  “Hut! Hut!” I cried, and off we went, with Harkhebi and his party scrambling to follow.

  XVII

  Galloping as fast as I could, we headed south on the riverside trail. Trees and shrubs hemmed the way, so that I seemed to fly through a leafy tunnel, dazzled by flashes of slanting sunlight as morning broke across the Delta.

  Why had I not left at once when Hepu delivered his warning? Whatever head start I might have had was gone. Behind me I heard men shouting, and the bleat of their camels. Could their camels outrun mine?

  They drew closer and closer, until I could hear what they were shouting.

  “Is he making for the Cuckoo’s Nest?”

  “He must be one of the gang!”

  “The danger—”

  “Think of the reward!”

  “Perhaps we should turn back—”

  “Think of the ruby!”

  So swiftly did I ride by the crocodile skull mounted on a pole that the strange image registered in my mind only after I had passed it. According to Hepu, it was the first notice that we were entering the territory of the Cuckoo’s Gang. Every part of me was already in a state of high alert—my heart pounding, my hands sweaty, my thoughts a blur—yet above all else I felt a quiver of dread.

  The crocodile skull had an even more chilling effect on my pursuers, for the pounding of hooves behind me abruptly faded. I glanced back and saw that Harkhebi’s men had come to a halt and were frantically conferring, shaking their heads and gesturing wildly. The locals among them had recognized the warning sign, and refused to go on.

  I seized the chance to lengthen my lead, and snapped the reins. “Hut! Hut!” I cried.

  The wind raced in my ears. The dappled sunlight became a blur. Then, in the blink of an eye, I found myself desperately clutching Djet and whatever else I could grab hold of. Rounding a bend, we had come upon the trunk of a palm tree lying across the path. The camel cleared it with an awkward leap, then staggered forward, nearly throwing us as it struggled to regain its balance.

  Hepu had spoken of such hazards. This was only the first. How soon would we encounter the next? What would happen if there were spikes in the roadbed, or a rope pulled taut across the way? I pulled on the reins, bringing the camel to a sudden halt. From this point onward, we had no choice but to proceed more slowly, I thought—then gave a start, as a nearby voice spoke my thoughts aloud.

  “If you want to stay alive, slow down!”

  To my left, a side path converged with the trail. There, on a camel, sat Menkhep. The burly shopkeeper and his mount were both breathing hard, as if they had raced to this spot to head me off, and had only just arrived. I made ready to snap the reins and race off, but Menkhep raised his hand.

  “Calm yoursel
f, Roman. Take a deep breath. Think! You’re going to need all your wits if you want to come out of this alive. And you’re going to have to trust me.”

  “Trust you? To do what?”

  “To get you to the Cuckoo’s Nest, you fool! It’s either that, or face that bloodthirsty mob.”

  I looked behind me. There was no sign yet of my pursuers.

  “But … you, Menkhep?” said Djet, staring at him wide-eyed and stealing the words from my mouth. Hepu had spoken of go-betweens and informers who lived in the workaday world but who were also part of the Cuckoo’s Gang. I would never have suspected genial, easygoing Menkhep.

  “Ever since my wife died. My trading post sits on the outskirts of the gang’s territory. I’m their eyes and ears. I take a good look at everyone who passes through. Most travelers are harmless. Some are dangerous. A few are worth robbing. And a very, very few are worth recruiting.”

  “And me?”

  “Worth recruiting, for sure—and worth robbing!” Menkhep laughed. “I’m thinking the Cuckoo’s Child will be quite pleased when I bring him the notorious cutthroat thief of Canopus.”

  I shook my head. “But I’m not—”

  “I must admit, I’d never have guessed you were so dangerous. When that mob from the village arrived at dawn, and the fellow from Sais told me who you were, I could scarcely believe it. They invited me to join them and share in the reward. Instead, I took this shortcut—and here we are. Are you really carrying a ruby as large as a hen’s egg?”

  I sighed. “It’s smaller than that.”

  “Still, the Cuckoo’s Child will be very pleased to see both you and your treasure. You’re quite a catch, young Roman.”

  I bristled. “Am I to be your guest, Menkhep, or your prisoner?”

  He grinned. “Maybe both.”

  I shook my head, desperately wishing I had some other choice—then gave a start. From up the trail I heard a rallying cry, followed by cheers.

  “They’ve made up their minds to come after you, despite the danger,” said Menkhep. “Greed triumphs over common sense, as usual. Now listen! Follow me, and do exactly as I do. Go at the speed I go, no faster and no slower. When you see me keep to one side of the trail, do likewise. Otherwise, you’ll end up with your head cut off or an arrow in your guts. Do you understand?”