The Siege of Syracuse

by Dan Armstrong

  I approached Agathe. “Is there a tray for Archimedes?”

  She turned on me angrily. “Can’t you see I’m busy? That old man can wait. These soldiers won’t.” She put one hand on her hip and waved the ladle menacingly with the other. “And since when do slaves tell me what to do?”

  “I wasn’t telling you…”

  “You’ll have to wait your turn,” she said abruptly. “And that could be awhile.”

  I was in such a good mood I just smiled and nodded.

  Hektor looked our way. “Just slop him a bowl of what you’re giving the soldiers, Agathe. Hieronymus has no more idea who Archimedes is than you do. I’m surprised meals for the old man come at all.”

  Lavinia looked up from the dough she was rolling out for pie crusts. “The reason those meals come over from the kitchen has nothing to do with the king and everything to do with the women cooking them. I don’t have the slightest idea who the bearded fellow in the tower is, but I have no problem with Timon getting something special.”

  Hektor looked at me with a grin and winked. “So, Lavinia, you’re saying the slave is more important than the master.”

  Lavinia ignored the comment, but Hektor’s full attention was on me. He came up close and gave me a lopsided grin. “Timon, you look like you just ate a mouse.”

  “What do you mean?” I flushed, knowing exactly what he meant.

  His eyes narrowed and his grin curled to the left. He leaned over so he was looking at me eye to eye. “You got a girl?”

  The odor of garlic and stale wine nearly made me gag. I looked away and scuffed at the ground with my right foot.

  “You get laid?”

  “Better than that,” I replied with a big goofy smile. “I got a kiss.”

  Hektor rolled his eyes. “Get back to me when I can smell her on your fingers.”

  I wasn’t entirely certain what he meant.

  Agathe came to my rescue with a tray. “Here, take this. Now get out of here.”

  It all bounced off me like flowers. I was in love.

  CHAPTER 35

  I stood at the workbench, buffing the second of the five concave mirrors Archimedes had requested. Archimedes used a compass to draw a circle on a piece of papyrus. Plato, lounging on the east windowsill, suddenly stood up. There was a knock on the door. Before I could put aside the mirror, Laius came into the chamber. He hadn’t been to our workshop since the death of Thraso. He looked even worse than then.

  He went straight to Archimedes’ desk.

  Archimedes looked up, the baggage of age beneath his eyes. “Laius.” He smiled weakly. “Don’t worry, I’m not expecting good news.”

  Laius sighed. “And I don’t have any. I’m saying good-bye.”

  “Good-bye? What has happened, my friend?”

  Laius shook his head. “Hieronymus has given two thousand men each to Hippocrates and his brother Epicydes. They are leaving tomorrow to clear the nearby towns of Roman garrisons. Soon after, the king will be taking a larger force to Leontini. This is nothing less than war with Rome.”

  Laius walked over to the hearth. He placed his hand on the mantle and leaned forward so his head rested on his forearm in a pose of utter exasperation. “It’s lunacy, Archimedes. This whole city has gone insane, and Hippocrates is at the center of it, invisibly orchestrating everything.” He stared into the hearth for some time.

  “It’s not safe here for me anymore,” he said finally, dropping his hand from the mantle and turning to face Archimedes. “I’m taking my family to Corinth. I have a house there. You are welcome to come with us. But it would have to be done in secret—and soon.” He looked at me. “Timon would also be welcome.”

  I thought first of my safety, then of Moira, and then of Adeon.

  “Your offer is much appreciated,” replied Archimedes. “But no. I’m an old man. I cannot waste the time to move, nor am I willing to take a long trip by sea.”

  “But war is certain, Archimedes. Surely you must see that. You will be at the center of it.”

  The mathematician nodded gravely. “I do see that, Laius. And because of my machines, Rome will never take this city by force. There will be a siege followed by a long, painful blockade. And still I intend to stay.”

  “But you will be enabling Carthage and Hannibal!”

  “I will be defending Syracuse.” Archimedes lowered his eyes. “I care not one whit for either Rome or Carthage.”

  Laius came back across the room. “If you came with me, you’d have the freedom to do your work.”

  Archimedes was a man in pain. He had long rejected the Platonic Ideal, but it was something he continued to debate within himself: Did using the numbers or the geometry for material needs vulgarize the science? His applications had led to machines of war. I hadn’t seen them yet, but I knew of them. Didn’t that debase the work? Didn’t that mean Plato was right? These kinds of questions weighed heavily on Archimedes all the time, but for all the anguish they caused him, he seemed to have made up his mind, and he continued the work. I believe he felt that engineering applications were inevitable. He had seen into the potential of mechanized devices and could not resist the temptation of exploring it further. Some part of him might have even wanted the challenge of the coming siege. “No,” he said. “I will stay in Syracuse. It’s my home. I have lived here. I shall die here.”

  Laius gave a sigh of resignation. “No matter who controls Syracuse, I’m sure they will know who you are and recognize your importance. You will be treated well.” He put his hand on Archimedes’ shoulder. “My family and I will be leaving in two days. But I will see you again—after the war is over.”

  Laius turned to me. “Timon, you’ve heard all that I’ve said. I’m sorry you have to remain here. It seems this war is following you. Perhaps it’s following all of us. Good-bye.”

  I bade him farewell, and he was gone.

  CHAPTER 36

  The morning after Laius’ good-bye, I went down to the pantry barely awake, and nearly stumbled into Lavinia when she greeted me with a cup of hot kykeon. Agathe sat in the shadows on a bag of barley, curled around her own cup, gripping it with two hands. Hektor had skipped the kykeon and was already into the wine. He was counting potatoes and putting them in a sack. He didn’t look up right away. When he did, he gave me a lascivious grin. “Made any progress with the mud wrestler?”

  In the early days, this would have sent me into a slow boil. Now I knew this was Hektor’s way of saying good morning, and in my case, a generous allowance of familiarity with a slave. I could either ignore it, which would lead to more teasing, or reply in some equally puerile manner—which was really what Hektor wanted.

  Before I could respond, a moan came from the stairway to the tunnel. Eurydice, her face as white as milk, pulled herself up the last of the stairs. “My—my water broke. The ba—ba—baby’s coming,” she managed to stutter before slumping to the floor.

  Lavinia was at her side immediately.

  Agathe began giving orders. “Timon, get me some clean linen from the closet. Hektor, get some hot water. There’s a pot out there already over a fire.”

  I piled an armload of linen towels on the big table in the middle of the room. Agathe quickly spread them out. “Now get her up here.”

  Lavinia had Eurydice sitting up when Hektor returned from outside with a steaming pail of water. He put down the pail and helped Lavinia lift Eurydice onto the table. We all crowded around to see how she was.

  “Give me some room.” Agathe spread out her arms, elbows first. “I’ve got a baby to deliver.”

  Eurydice was delirious. “You—you—you are the o—on—only ones I c—c—could trust.”

  Lavinia pushed extra towels beneath Eurydice’s shoulders and head for support.

  “You men, back off,” Agathe demanded. She bent Eurydice’s legs at the knees and threw back her dress. Blood and water had stained her undergarments.

  For once Hektor seemed at a loss. “Do you know what you’re doing, Aga
the?”

  “Better than you! Now stand back.”

  Lavinia pulled Eurydice’s dress all the way off, while Agathe removed Eurydice’s undergarments and tossed them aside. I saw the bulge of a bloody head in the nest of Eurydice’s maiden hair. Although Eurydice was a beautiful woman, this was more anatomy than I wanted to see. I quickly looked away.

  “This thing’s happening all of its own,” shouted Agathe. “Bring one of the oil lamps over here. Where’s that water, Hektor?”

  The baby was halfway out by the time I could get the lamp. Agathe attended to the delivery as if she’d done it a hundred times before.

  “Lucky she didn’t lose it in the tunnel,” was Agathe’s dry appraisal as she pulled the baby all the way out, with the bloody umbilical cord trailing back into Eurydice.

  “And it’s a boy!” Lavinia beamed. “Just like I said.”

  Agathe bit the cord free, held the bloody little elf up by his feet, and welcomed him to his new world with a spank. The little boy spit up some brown fluid, took his first breath, and let out a wail.

  Within the dim halo of yellow light, Agathe used the water to clean up the mother and son. She laid Gelo, as she dubbed him, on Eurydice’s chest, then covered the new mother’s legs and abdomen with clean linen. Lavinia piled more towels under Eurydice’s back and shoulders so she could sit up.

  Eurydice was exhausted, but no longer hysterical. The baby lay sprawled on her bare torso. She gently stroked the back of his head. “I—I was afraid they would ta—ta—take him from me. One—one of the ha—hand—handmaids overheard the king ta—ta—talking. It seems Hier—Hier—Hier—the king g—g—got word that one—one of the maids was pr—pr—preg—with child. He—he—he took no interest in this—I’m sure there was m—m—more than one—un—until he heard that—t—t—that one was about to d—d—deliver. Now he w—w—will want to see the baby.”

  This drew everyone in closer.

  “He wants to know the sex,” said Agathe, eyes agleam.

  “Did he see that you were pregnant?” asked Hektor.

  Eurydice shook her head. “N—no. I d—don’t think so. Bu—but—but all the a—a—atten—attendants kn—know. He—he—he will hear about it.” Her voice rose in pitch. She hugged her newborn tighter and began to cry. “He—he can’t kn—know about this—this ch—ch—child. He—he c—can’t.”

  “Do you think he wants the child for his own?” asked Lavinia.

  “I’d say the king’s likely to kill the little thing if he finds out it’s a boy,” Agathe said darkly. “He’s become so fearful of assassins, he won’t want any heirs at all. Even an illegitimate one.”

  “S—s—so w—wh—what will he—he d—do?” Eurydice sobbed, gripping the baby with both arms. “The—there is n—n—no way to hide him in the sl—sl—slave quarters. I—I—I’m n—n—not even sure what the—they will do w—w—with me now,” she stammered with great effort. “I—I—I can’t g—g—go back there with a—a—a baby. W—wh—what can I do?”

  We all looked to Hektor. We knew he had once been sexually attracted to Eurydice, but since the rape that had transformed into a protective fatherly love. “What if I took the child,” he said suddenly. “What if I took him to my home and cared for him?”

  “And what will your wife think?” demanded Agathe. “That the child is yours!”

  Hektor knew this was true. “Well, we have to hide the baby somewhere.”

  “I will take him,” said Lavinia. “My daughter Dara just lost one of her own. Her breasts are still full with milk. It’s the best place for him.”

  Eurydice let out a long, sad sigh. “B—b—but how w—w—will I e—ever s—s—see him?”

  “We’ll find a way,” said Lavinia, her mind seemingly made up. “Anything will be better than letting that monster on the throne get his hands on him.”

  “Who else knows you came here this morning?” asked Hektor.

  “No—no—no one. B—b—but everyone kn—kn—knew I was due. The—there w—w—will b—be questions.”

  “Say that it was a girl and you left it out to die,” said Agathe.

  “Or it miscarried,” offered Lavinia.

  “Yes, that might work,” followed Agathe. For once, the two women seemed to be hearing each other.

  Eurydice bowed her head and kissed her new son.

  “We’ll make it look like a miscarriage,” continued Agathe. “We’ll use one of the piglets we put aside for dinner and wrap it in the afterbirth. The slaves that come from the palace will never know the difference. But we must quickly hide the child. They’ll be here soon.”

  “But where?” chorused from Lavinia and Hektor.

  “In my room,” I offered caught up in the excitement. “No one will ever look there.”

  Everyone stared at me. Agathe nodded slowly. “That could work, but then you’ll have to watch him this afternoon.”

  “And if you’re discovered, you’ll be in just as much trouble as the rest of us,” warned Hektor.

  I nodded, not really knowing what I was getting myself into. I had never taken care of a baby in my life.

  “After dinner, I’ll sneak him off the island,” said Lavinia.

  Eurydice looked lost and helpless.

  “It will be fine, Eurydice,” said Agathe. “We’ll leave you on the table until the other slaves arrive. We’ll give them a glimpse of the bloody piglet and tell them you miscarried. Then we’ll have one of them take you back to your quarters. You’ll be able to rest there.”

  “B—b—but when c—c—can I see him? H—h—how will I f—f—feed him?”

  Lavinia stroked Eurydice’s forehead, trying to ease her fears. “You’ll have to let that go for now. He’ll be fed and have plenty of love.”

  Agathe wasted no time. She took the baby from Eurydice, swaddled him in a towel, and handed him to me. I waited at the bottom of the stairs as Hektor went up to the ground level and distracted the sentry with conversation. Fearing the baby might cry out at any moment, I quickly hurried up the tower stairs. Before I knew it, I was alone in my room with him. Lavinia came up shortly afterwards with a tray of food for Archimedes. She handed me the tray and stayed in my room while I took it upstairs.

  After dinner Lavinia bundled little Gelo in her clothing and smuggled him off the island without a question asked.

  CHAPTER 37

  No one seemed to doubt the miscarriage. Eurydice was put to bed in the slave’s quarters and given a short break from her duties. We told the slaves that morning that the baby had been a boy to prevent the need for examining the corpse. This was Hektor’s idea. It was a calculated risk that failed.

  Two days later Archimedes sent me into town with another set of drawings for Orestes. I dropped off the plans and went straight to the market.

  On the way, I heard the gossip. An illegitimate son had been fathered by the king. Some said the child was still alive, others said it was stillborn. One rumor said the king was offering a large reward for information about the child—whether alive or dead. Another said the king was going to have the entire city searched for newborns.

  This last piece of information upset me badly. I wanted to run back to Ortygia and warn Lavinia right away, but I also wanted a chance to see Moira. A week had passed since she’d taken me into the tunnel, and her kiss still burned on my cheek. A light rain began to fall as I entered the market. I saw Moira from a long distance off. She broke into a smile when I approached her stand.

  “Did you hear about the search for the king’s illegitimate son?” she asked right away.

  I felt the blood drain from my face.

  Moira didn’t miss it. “What is it, Timon?”

  I had no intention of saying anything about the baby, but I couldn’t hide how much it was bothering me. Moira came up close and took my two hands in hers. Her grandfather had noticed my arrival and was watching us.

  I looked into her black eyes wanting so badly to kiss her that I thought my toes would curl. Inst
ead I hung my head not knowing what to say.

  “Timon, what is it?”

  I was stuck. She’d seen the impact of her question on me. She knew I knew something, but she didn’t know about my pledge of silence. “I can’t say anything,” I muttered, digging my hole a little deeper.

  She peeked over her shoulder at her grandfather. He was busy with a customer. “You know about the baby?”

  “I’ll be at the stage.” I let go of her hands and turned away before she could ask another question.

  This was the first time I had been the one to suggest a meeting. I didn’t know if Moira would come or if she could even invent an excuse to get away, but I knew she’d seen right through me. I wanted to explain myself, and yet I also wanted to get back to the island to warn Lavinia about what I’d heard.

  When I reached the stage, two soldiers were leading a man onto the platform with his hands shackled behind his back. A crowd quickly gathered. A herald announced that the man was to be flogged as a traitor. He’d spoken out against King Hieronymus’ execution of Thraso. Someone whispered it was the first public flogging in Syracuse since before Hiero II’s reign.

  The soldiers tied the man to a post with his hands up over his head. They ripped the clothing from his back and proceeded to flail him with a leather strap imbedded with metal studs.

  The flogging got ugly quickly. I had never seen such a thing. If I hadn’t been waiting for Moira, I would have left immediately. Instead I stood some distance off, looking in the direction I expected Moira to be coming from.

  Time dragged on one savage lash at a time. On two occasions the man shrieked so loudly I impulsively turned to look at him. The second time the sight was so awful I involuntarily stared, trying to decipher what I was seeing. Long bloody strips of skin hung off his back like loose shreds of clothing. The crowd cheered with each lash, adding to the horror of the awful spectacle.