Athena's Son

by Jeryl Schoenbeck

  As instructed, Archimedes knelt until he felt the hand of Callimachus indicate he was recognized by the Pharaoh. Archimedes stood and faced the court and bowed his head, but not before looking to Berenike, who gave him a quick smile and one of her sassy winks.

  “Before we begin,” Ptolemy nodded to the scribe and he dipped his quill in the red ink, “I want to make clear two things. First, the traitorous murderer known as Ptahhotep is being hunted down as we speak. No more priests will participate in royal proceedings until we discover how extensively his mutinous ideas have infected the temples.”

  Archimedes noticed that not only was Ptahhotep gone, so was his expensive chair. Coincidently, Ptolemy said, “That purging included his accursed chair. No one has been able to sit in it without getting touched by a lick of fire, so we removed it and burned it.” Archimedes had to catch his breath and could swear he heard Berenike give a quick snort of laughter.

  “Second,” Ptolemy continued, “we want to discover the reasons behind the theft of the body of Alexander the Great and ascertain the full extent of our loss.”

  He paused and Archimedes felt the Pharaoh’s eyes burning into his bowed head. “However, any discussions on how to replace or even divulge Alexandria’s loss are subjects for a different meeting. What we do know is that a man claiming to be the legitimate son of Alexander the Great, along with the priest Ptahhotep, planned the theft of the coffin and a subsequent, but failed, insurrection. First they committed the barbaric murders of innocent workers at the lighthouse to dupe us and, when that did not work, then by the heinous kidnapping of Princess Berenike. Is that correct, Remus Decimus?”

  Remus flinched, as if he was going to be exempt from the questioning. He quickly regained his composure and initiated his answer with a slick smile. “Thank you, Pharaoh Ptolemy, for inviting me.” He hesitated like he about to introduce his duplicitous brother, “And let me add, as a representative of the Republic of Rome, that we, yes we, respectfully offer any assistance in rooting out the treachery behind this act.”

  A little late for that, Archimedes thought, tipping slightly from standing too long and sleeping too little.

  “As you know, Pharaoh,” Remus continued, “the mutual cooperation between our two great civilizations is of utmost importance to our Republic. When we, ahh, heard, that Princess Berenike was not only in danger, but had also been kidnapped…” he began tapping his fist against his mouth, “we immediately alerted the proper authorities. Of course, how we found out, well, we are not able to divulge our sources, as you can understand Great King, due to the immunities and intricacies necessitated in foreign relationships.”

  Ptolemy began drumming his hand on the arm of the throne and Remus must have picked up the cue. “So, ah yes, to summarize, we alerted you that a man some claim to be from Rome…”

  “Save your apology for Rome’s lapses,” an agitated Ptolemy said. “Was he or was he not Alexander IV, son of Alexander the Great?”

  Remus, slightly ruffled, began vacillating, “Well, of course, there is more to substantiate...”

  “Yes or no?” Ptolemy asked angrily.

  “Well, yes, we believe he was, yes.” Remus said, nervously looking around for either his brother or a quick exit. Archimedes’ mind drifted off and he stifled a yawn, causing his eyes to water.

  “Which brings us to you, Archimedes,” Ptolemy turned to him and he was brought back to consciousness. “Did you help the zealot Alexander in planning and removing the body of Alexander the Great?”

  Archimedes struggled to raise his head. “Yes. By using a multiple pulley system, I was able to raise…”

  Ptolemy cut him off. “So you freely admit to collaborating with this maniac in plundering Alexandria’s greatest treasure”

  A tiny flame ignited in the belly of a tired, emotional boy. “While I won’t debate the value placed on the deceased, I do freely admit that all I was thinking about was keeping Princess Berenike alive rather than if Alexander could become any deader.”

  Ptolemy bristled at the remark. “Control your tongue Archimedes, this isn’t the Athenian agora. Do not preach your intellectual introspection to me.”

  With a huff, Berenike stood up from her chair and stood between the Pharaoh and the student. “Oh, be patient, father, he is obviously exhausted. Neither of us has slept in two days. Archimedes did what your navy could not have done—he saved my life. I’m sure that was all he meant.”

  Like a large dog rebuked by its master, Ptolemy growled and squirmed in his chair. Being reminded that his daughter was here only because of the actions of the young man he now sat in judgment of, cooled Ptolemy’s temper.

  “After I was informed of the events by our competent ambassador from Rome,” Ptolemy said, “I dispatched my royal chariots to the dock to intercept the ship. My last command to you was to save the body of Alexander. Do you recall that directive?”

  Archimedes had to shake his head to clear it. “I am sorry, no, I didn’t hear you. I was no longer concerned with the body…”

  “I allowed you one opportunity to philosophize about life and death, Archimedes. Do not tempt fate with another round of it.” Ptolemy leaned back. “This weapon you created, Agrippas said it ripped the ship apart like Zeus himself was casting thunderbolts from Mount Olympus. When you fired this weapon,” he stopped and asked Berenike, “What did you call it?”

  “Um, dead bat, or really, a cannon,” she said.

  “When you fired this cannon,” he asked Archimedes, “did it strike the box holding the coffin and demolish it?”

  “Yes, pharaoh, it did destroy the box.” That elicited a sharp intake of breath from Ptolemy. Since there was no follow up question, Archimedes took the opportunity to continue. “But I assure you the body was completely safe…”

  “Safe?” Ptolemy erupted. “Do you know how fragile a mummy is? A mummy is a leather egg shell wrapped in linen. Between the blasts from your cannons and disintegrating in the sea, we’d be lucky to find enough of the body to fill a beggar’s cup. How can you stand there and tell me the body was safe when the ship and all the contents aboard it were torn apart and thrown into the harbor?”

  “Because,” Archimedes answered, “the coffin and the body were never aboard the ship.”

  Chapter 35

  When Archimedes told Pharaoh Ptolemy that the revered coffin was not rotting in the depths of the harbor, but rather laying peacefully on the roof of the tomb, the Pharaoh jumped out of his throne like the glass globe was scorching his back.

  “Are you telling me the truth? Is the body of Alexander really safe and unharmed?” Archimedes assured him that yes, it was the truth and yes, it was perfectly safe and unharmed.

  After the initial shock and exclamations, the Pharaoh ordered a platoon of Medjay to go immediately to the tomb and guard the wayward coffin until Archimedes could get there to oversee lowering it back on its marble pedestal. But first, Ptolemy had to find out how a schoolboy from Syracuse could pull off a deception that rivaled the Trojan Horse.

  “It would help if I had a model, a small box of some sort, to demonstrate how it worked,” Archimedes said.

  Berenike grabbed a small cedar wood box off a table and dumped the contents, slapping the auburn box and lid in Archimedes’ hand with a little too much force and with a bit of scorn for added measure.

  The way Archimedes explained it, it was just a simple matter of deception, like the con artist running the rigged game in the marketplace. Make your dupe believe there is something where it isn’t. Pollux was told to load a heavy box in a wagon and he did. Alexander IV expected a heavy box and he got it. The key component was the box he built.

  Like the con man’s copper cups, the box was designed to allow for a quick switch. There was only one way to get the coffin out of the tomb and that was through the skylight. It was when Archimedes was looking up at the skylight that the plans formed in his head. By using multiple pulleys, Archimedes knew he could get the coffin up on the roof and out of Po
llux’s sight. It also helped that it was night so no one detect the ruse.

  “What I built around the coffin was actually an upside down box, like this.” Archimedes held the cedar box up and then tipped it over with the lid on the palm of his hand. “After the coffin was raised to the roof I lifted the box off the coffin,” he demonstrated by carefully lifting the cedar model up and away from the lid. “Then I turned the box right side up,” he flipped the box over leaving the lid in his hand and the box upright and open.

  “The next step was crucial. I couldn’t lower an empty box down; even a dolt like Pollux would figure out something was wrong. Because the pulley system was designed to pull a weight straight up, I needed a counterweight to the coffin when I lowered it over the side to keep the pulleys from tipping over. So I had Pollux raise a statue of Alexander up to me. Once the statue was up on the roof I was able to lever it into the empty box. I knew the coffin would be on top of the original lid so I concealed a second lid in the box when I built it and simply used a mallet and dowels to hammer the new lid in place.”

  What his men loaded on the ship, and Alexander clung to so desperately at the end, was a granite statue of his father, just as cold and just as lifeless as the mummy he killed for.

  “The gods have blessed you with a gift few men could ever hope to possess,” Callimachus said. “You are going to bring a fresh perspective to the school.”

  Berenike took the cedar box out of Archimedes’ hand and inspected it as if she would find a miniature mummy inside. She laid it down and confronted Archimedes. She looked hurt. “Why didn’t you tell me the body was safe? Why did you let me think the coffin sunk to the bottom of the harbor?”

  “Berenike, you are so full of life,” Archimedes said. “I’ve never met anyone who had such a zest for living. After I saved you from the ship, it was upsetting to hear you worry so much about a dead man, especially with you so close to joining him. I want you to always covet life as intensely as you fought for air when you were drowning.”

  Berenike blinked away a tear and Archimedes wasn’t sure if that was good or bad. Then she said, “Earlier I teased you about being the gift of Athena for being smart. But after what you did to Alexander and the ship, how you built that cannon,…” She smiled and said. “You’re more like Athena’s son.”

  Oh Hades, Archimedes thought. I’m tired of corny speeches. It was time to back up all this talk with action. He pulled Berenike close and kissed her right in front of the Pharaoh of all Egypt. Berenike’s eyes widened in surprise, but her father was livid.

  “By the gods,” Ptolemy hissed. “How dare you…”

  Callimachus grabbed his student and hauled him out of the palace and out of the reach of her father. “Our deep apologies, Great King. We will certainly be discussing this back at school. He is much too tired from saving your daughter and your treasure to think straight.”

  Berenike’s ringing laugh followed Archimedes down the hall. “You’re quite a character, Archimedes. I hope to see you again soon. You’re always welcome back at the palace of Pharaoh Ptolemy. There’s a lot more living to do!”

  The few men still in the chambers stood silent, waiting for a reaction from the Pharaoh. Eventually Berenike came up and tried placating him. “He deserves one kiss, father. He did what you asked and fixed everything.”

  The Pharaoh scowled. “Not everything, daughter.”

  Berenike didn’t like the look on her father’s face. “What do you mean, not everything?”

  Ptolemy sat down at his throne. “Ptahhotep is still out there.”

  About the Author

  Jeryl Schoenbeck wrote his first book at age 9 and submitted his story and drawings to Charles Schultz, the creator of Peanuts. Schultz wrote back a personal letter politely declining the idea, but encouraging Jeryl to keep writing. Several decades later, this book is the result.

  After graduating from UW-Eau Claire with a Bachelor’s degree in Journalism and a career in newspapers, Jeryl went back to school to get a teaching degree and then a Master’s degree in Education. He currently teaches middle school in Wisconsin.

  For more information, visit:

  AthenasSon.com