‘But the king began to notice something quite disturbing: pieces of silver were missing from his treasure house. At first he thought he only imagined it, since there was no way that the great doors could be opened without breaking the seals, and the seals were broken only for his own official visits. But when his servants tallied up the inventory of his silver, sure enough, there were a great number of coins missing, and other small items as well.
‘The king was sorely puzzled. On his next visit there was even more silver missing, including a solid silver crocodile the size of a man’s forearm, which had been one of the king’s most treasured pieces.
‘The king was furious, and more baffled than ever. Then it occurred to him to set traps inside the treasure house, so that anyone sorting through the coins and coffers might be caught and held fast in an iron cage. And this he did.
‘Sure enough, on his next visit, the king discovered that one of the traps had been sprung. But inside the cage, instead of a desperate, pleading thief, there was a dead body.’ Bethesda paused ominously.
‘But of course,’ I murmured, looking up sleepily at the stars. ‘The poor thief had starved, or else been frightened to death when the cage landed on him.’
‘Perhaps. But he had no head!’
‘What?’ I blinked.
‘His head was nowhere to be found.’
‘How strange.’
‘Indeed.’ Bethesda nodded gravely.
‘And was more silver missing?’
‘Yes.’
‘Then there must have been another thief with him,’ I deduced.
‘Perhaps,’ Bethesda said shrewdly. ‘But King Rhampsinitus was no closer to solving the mystery.
‘Then it occurred to him that perhaps the hapless thief had relatives in Memphis, in which case they would want to have his body back so that they could purify it and send it on its journey to the afterlife. Naturally, no one could be expected to come forward to claim the body, so Rhampsinitus decided to have the headless corpse put on display before the palace wall. This was announced as a warning to the thieves of Memphis, but the true purpose was to capture anyone who might know the truth of the thief’s strange fate. The king’s two most trusted guards – big, bearded fellows, the same ones who usually protected the seals at the treasure house – were assigned to stand watch over the corpse day and night and to seize any person who broke into weeping or lamentation.
‘The next morning, as soon as he had risen, King Rhampsinitus hurried to the palace wall and looked over the edge, for the mystery of the missing silver had come to dominate his thoughts, whether sleeping or awake. And what should he see but the two guards lying fast asleep, each of them with half his face clean-shaven – and the headless body gone!
‘Rhampsinitus ordered that the guards be brought before him. They stank of wine and their memories were muddled, but they did remember that a merchant passed by just as the sun was going down, pushing a cart fall of wineskins. One of the wineskins had sprung a leak. The guards each seized a cup and caught some of the flowing wine, thanking their good luck. The merchant had been outraged – for no good reason, since it was hardly the guards’ fault if the wineskin had broken. They managed to calm the merchant with some peaceful words, and he paused for a while by the palace wall, explaining that he was weary and irritable from a long day’s work. To make up for his rudeness, he offered each guard a cupful of his very best wine. After that, neither of the guards could quite remember what happened, or so they both maintained. The next thing they knew, it was dawn, King Rhampsinitus was screaming down at them from the palace wall, their faces had been half-shaven, and the headless body had vanished.’
‘Bethesda,’ I interrupted, giving a slight start at the sudden leap of a cricket amid the yew trees, ‘I do hope that this will not turn out to be one of those Egyptian horror stories where dead bodies go walking about on their own.’
She reached over and playfully danced her long nails over my naked arm, giving me gooseflesh. I batted her fingers away. She leaned back and laughed a low, throaty laugh. After a moment she continued.
‘When it came to describing the wine merchant, the guards were vague. One said he was young, the other said he was middle-aged. One said he had a beard, the other insisted he had only stubble on his jaw.’
‘The wine, or whatever was in it, must have befuddled their senses,’ I said. ‘Presuming they were telling the truth.’
‘However that may be, Rhampsinitus had all the wine merchants in Memphis rounded up and paraded before the guards.’
‘And did the guards recognize the culprit among them?’
‘They did not. King Rhampsinitus knew no more than he had before. To make matters worse, the two sleeping, half-shaven guards had been seen by some of the merchants opening their shops that morning, and word had quickly spread that the king’s chosen guards had been made fools of. Rumours about the headless corpse and the pilfered treasure spread through the city, and soon all Memphis was gossiping behind the king’s back. King Rhampsinitus was very displeased.’
‘I should think so!’
‘So displeased that he ordered that the guards should remain half-shaven for a month, for all to see.’
‘A mild punishment, surely.’
‘Not in the old days in Memphis. To be seen half-shaven would have been as shameful as for a Roman noble to be seen in the Forum wearing sandals instead of shoes with his toga.’
‘Unthinkable!’
‘But fortune is a blade with two edges, as you Romans say, and in the end it was a good thing for the king that this gossip spread, for it quickly reached the ears of a young courtesan who lived over a rug shop very near the palace gates. Her name was Naia, and she was already privy to whisperings about the mystery within the palace walls, as not a few of her clientele were members of the royal entourage. Mulling over all she had heard about the affair, and everything she knew about the treasure house and the manner in which it was built and guarded, she believed she saw the solution to the mystery.
‘Naia might have gone straight to the king and named the thieves, but two things gave her pause. First, she had no real proof; and second, as I’ve already told you, the king was not famous for generous rewards. He might have merely thanked her and given her a silver bracelet and sent her on her way! So when she went to Rhampsinitus, she said only that she had a plan for solving the mystery, and that to implement this plan would cost her time and money; if her scheme came to nothing, she would pay her own losses – ’
‘A terrible idea! I always demand expenses and a fee, no matter whether I solve the mystery or not.’
‘ – but if she was able to identify the thieves and explain how the silver had been stolen, then Rhampsinitus would have to pay her as much silver as her mule could carry and grant her a wish besides.
‘At first this struck the king as too steep a price, but the more he thought about it, the fairer it seemed. After all, more silver than a mule could carry had already vanished from his treasure house, and would go on vanishing until the thieving was stopped. And what sort of wish could a courtesan make that the king of all Egypt could not grant with a mere wave of his hand? Besides, it seemed unlikely that a young courtesan would be able to solve the mystery that had confounded the king and all his advisors. He agreed to the bargain.
‘Naia made a few inquiries. It did not take long to discover the name of the man she suspected and where he lived. She sent her servant to watch his movements, and to alert her immediately when this man should next pass near her window.
‘A few days later the servant came running to her chamber, out of breath, and told her to look out of the window. A young man wearing new clothes and sandals was looking at some expensive rugs displayed outside the shop below. Naia took a seat in her window and sent her servant to give the man a message.’
‘She accused him then and there?’ I said.
‘Of course not. The servant told the young man that his mistress had noticed him from her wi
ndow and perceived him to be a man of taste and means, and wished to invite him up to her room. When the young man looked up, Naia was posed in the window in such a way that very few men could have resisted the invitation.’
‘This Naia,’ I said, ‘is beginning to remind me of a certain other Egyptian woman I know …’
Bethesda ignored me. ‘The young man came straight to her room. The servant brought cool wine and fresh fruit, and then sat outside the door, softly playing a flute. Naia and her guest talked for a while, and soon it became evident that the young man desired her greatly. But Naia insisted that they play a game first. Relaxed by the heat of the day, his tongue loosened by wine and desire, the young man agreed. This was the game – that each of them should reveal to the other two secrets, beginning with the young man. What was the greatest crime of his life? And what was his cleverest trick?
‘These questions gave the young man pause, and a shadow of sadness crossed over his face, followed by a laugh. “I can answer you easily enough,” he said, “but I’m not sure which is which. My greatest crime was cutting off my brother’s head. My greatest trick was putting his head and body back together again. Or perhaps it’s the other way around!” He smiled ruefully and looked at Naia with desiring eyes. “And you?” he whispered.
‘Naia sighed. “Like you,” she said, “I’m not sure which is which. I think my greatest trick was discovering the thief who has been robbing King Rhampsinitus’ treasure house, and my greatest crime will be when I hand him over to the king! Or perhaps it will end up being the other way around …”
‘The young man gave a start and came to his senses. He rose and ran towards the window, but a great iron cage, like the one that had trapped his brother, came down on him from the ceiling. He could not escape. Naia sent her servant to fetch the king’s guards.
‘ “And now,” she said, “while we wait, perhaps you can explain to me what I don’t already know about the plundering of the king’s silver.”
‘The young man was at first furious, and then he began to weep, realizing the fate that awaited him. Death was the sweetest punishment he could hope for. More likely he would have his hands and feet chopped off and would live the rest of his life as a cripple and a beggar. “But you must know everything already,” he cried. “How did you find me out?”
‘Naia shrugged. “I thought for a while that the two guards might be in collusion, and that the headless body was a third confederate, whom they killed when he was captured so that he could not betray them. But the guards knew of the traps, and so could have avoided them; and I doubt that any man in Memphis would allow himself to appear half-shaven before the king, even to disguise his own guilt. Besides, everyone agrees that the treasure house doors cannot be opened without breaking the seals. So there must have been some other way in. How could that be, unless the architect planned it? And who could know of any secret entrance except the architect’s two sons?”
‘ “It’s true,” the young man said. “My father showed it to us before he died – a secret entrance opened by pressing on a single stone in the palace wall, impossible to find unless you know the exact measurements. Two men, or even one, can open it with a simple push, take whatever they can carry from the treasure house, and then seal the door behind them so that no one could ever find it. I told my older brother that we were taking too much, and that the king would notice; but our father had told us that the king sorely underpaid him for all his years of effort, and that by his design we should always have a steady income.”
‘ “But then your brother was caught in the iron cage,” said Naia.
‘ “Yes. He could stick his head outside the bars, but nothing more. He begged me to cut off his head and take it with me; otherwise, someone in the palace would recognize him and all our family would be brought to ruin.”
‘ “And you did as he demanded. How terrible for you! How brave! But you were a good brother. You reclaimed his body, united it with the head and sent him on his way to the afterlife.”
‘ “I might not have done so, but my mother insisted. I disguised myself and deceived the guards into drinking drugged wine. In the darkness I cut down my brother’s body and hid him among the wineskins in the cart. Before I carried him off, I shaved the guards, so that the king would not suspect them of conspiring with me.”
‘Naia looked out of the window. “And here are those two guards now, hurrying this way across the square.”
‘ “Please,” the young man begged, thrusting his head outside the cage, “cut off my head! Let me share my brother’s fate! Otherwise who knows what horrible punishments the king will inflict on me?”
‘Naia picked up a long blade and pretended to consider it. “No,” she said at last, even as the guards’ footsteps were booming on the stairs. “I think we will let justice take its course.”
‘So the young man was brought before King Rhampsinitus, along with Naia, who came to claim her reward. The thief’s cache of silver was found hidden in his home and restored to the treasure house. The secret entrance was sealed over, and Naia was allowed to load a mule with as much silver as the beast could carry.
‘As for the fate of the thief, Rhampsinitus announced that he would allow the dishonoured guards to take their revenge on him first, and in the morning he would decide on the punishment, either beheading him or chopping off his hands and feet.
‘As he was leaving the audience chamber, Naia called after him. “Do you remember the rest of our bargain, great king?”
‘Rhampsinitus looked back at her, puzzled.
‘ “You said you would grant me a wish,” Naia reminded him.
‘ “Ah, yes,” the king nodded. “And what is it you wish for?”
‘ “I wish for you to forgive this young man and set him free!”
‘Rhampsinitus looked at her aghast. What she asked was impossible – but there was no way to deny her request. Then he smiled. “Why not?” he said. “The mystery is solved, the silver is restored, the secret entrance is sealed. I had thought that this thief was the cleverest man in Egypt – but you are even cleverer, Naia!” ’
Another shooting star passed overhead. The crickets chirred. I stretched my limbs. ‘And I suppose the two of them married.’
‘So the story goes. It makes sense that a woman as clever as Naia would settle only for a man as clever as the thief. With the silver she had obtained, and the combined quickness of their wits, I have no doubt that they lived very happily.’
‘And King Rhampsinitus?’
‘His memory is still revered as the last of the good kings, before Cheops began a long dynasty of disasters. They say that after the mystery of the missing silver was solved, he went down to the place the Greeks and Romans call Hades and played dice with Demeter. One game he won, and one game he lost. When he came back she gave him a golden napkin. And that is why the priests blindfold themselves with yellow cloths when they follow the jackals to the Temple of Demeter on the night of the spring festival …’
I must have dozed, for I missed the rest of whatever new story Bethesda had begun. When I awoke, she was silent, but I could tell by her breathing that she was still awake. ‘Bethesda,’ I whispered. ‘What was your greatest crime? And your greatest trick?’
After a moment she said, ‘I think they are both yet to come. And you?’
‘Come here and I’ll whisper them to you.’
The night had grown cooler. A steady breeze wafted gently up from the valley of the Tiber. Bethesda rose from her couch and came to mine. I put my lips to her ear, but I did not whisper secrets. Instead we did something else.
And the next day, down on the street of the silversmiths, I bought her a simple silver bracelet – a memento of the night she told me the tale of King Rhampsinitus and his treasure house.
A WILL IS A WAY
Lucius Claudius was a sausage-fingered, plum-cheeked, cherry-nosed nobleman with a fuzzy wreath of thinning red hair on his florid pate and a tiny, pouting mouth.
The
name Claudius marked him not only as a nobleman but a patrician, hailing from that small group of old families who first made Rome great (or who at least fooled the rest of the Romans into thinking so). Not all patricians are rich; even the best families can go to seed over the centuries. But from the gold seal ring that Lucius wore, and from the other rings that kept it company – one of silver set with lapis, another of white gold with a bauble of flawless green glass – I suspected he was quite rich indeed. The rings were complemented by a gold necklace from which glittering glass baubles dangled amid the frizzled red hair that sprouted from his fleshy chest. His toga was of the finest wool, and his shoes were of exquisitely tooled leather.
He was the very image of a wealthy patrician, not handsome and not very bright-looking either, but impeccably groomed and dressed. His green eyes twinkled and his pouting lips pursed easily into a smile, betraying a man with a naturally pleasant personality. Wealthy, well born and with a cheerful disposition, he struck me as a man who shouldn’t have a worry in the world – except that he obviously did, or else he would never have come to see me.
We sat in the little garden of my house on the Esquiline Hill. Once upon a time, a man of Lucius’ social status would never have been seen entering the house of Gordianus the Finder, but in recent years I seem to have acquired a certain respectability. I think the change began after my first case for the young advocate Cicero. Apparently Cicero has been saying nice things about me behind my back to his colleagues in the law courts, telling them that he actually put me up in his house once and it turned out that Gordianus, professional ferret and consorter with assassins notwithstanding, knew how to use a bowl and spoon and an indoor privy after all, and could even tell the difference between them.
Lucius Claudius filled the chair I had pulled up for him almost to overflowing. He shifted a bit nervously and toyed with his rings, then smiled sheepishly and held up his cup. ‘A bit more?’ he said, making an ingratiatingly silly face.
‘Of course.’ I clapped my hands. ‘Bethesda! More wine for my guest. The best, from the green clay bottle.’
Gordianus The Finder Omnibus (Books 1-4) Page 55