Ancient World 02 - Raiders of the Nile (5 page)

“Of course not. There’s only the two of us.”

“Ah well, then, I suppose your older brother will have to do. I’ve heard a rumor that he’s on his way here right now.”

“Right now?”

“Right now!” The scribe looked straight at the audience and enunciated in a slow, dramatic voice. “And he may … arrive …
any
 …
minute
!”

The merchant clapped his hands to his cheeks with an expression of horror. The two boys took up their pipes and played shrill notes to mimic his alarm. Then the discordant music suddenly changed to a giddy tune, so infectious that the fat merchant forgot his worries and leaped to his feet. With various parts of his body jiggling in different directions at once, he performed an absurd dance, spinning, jumping, kicking his legs, and waving his arms. This was another jab at King Ptolemy. Despite his drunken laziness and his inability even to take a piss on his own, he was still known to break into wild dances in the midst of his orgies.

Beating drums and shaking rattles, other members of the mime troupe emerged from behind the tent to join the merchant in the dance. Among them I spotted Bethesda’s double, no longer made up to appear old but looking quite lovely in a green linen gown; the wooden bangles adorning her tawny arms made a clacking sound as she cavorted. Encouraged by the players, members of the audience joined in the dance. The music became louder and shriller, and the atmosphere grew raucous. Even the Nubian bearers of the elegant litter joined in, clapping their hands and stamping their feet.

Then, in the blink of an eye, the mood changed. I heard shouts and screams. A thrill of panic shot through the audience. Standing on tiptoes and looking over the crowd, I saw the flash of drawn swords at the far side of the square. A sea of terrified faces abruptly turned toward me.

Riot!

IV

“Time to get out of here!” I said, taking Bethesda by the hand.

Everyone else seemed to have the same thought at the same moment, for suddenly we were all rushing in the same direction, away from the armed troops. Even amid the panic, I saw a few men stoop down and pick up whatever stones or other debris happened to be lying about, as if arming themselves for a skirmish.

From the corner of my eye I saw the tent collapse. While the trained monkey screamed and hopped madly about, the mime troupe rolled up the tent and gathered their props. They moved so quickly and efficiently it was evident they had done this before.

With Bethesda and me leading the way, the crowd fled down a narrow street that led to the harbor. With a quiver of dread I wondered if this was what the king’s men intended—to drive the spectators to the waterfront, where we would be trapped and easy to slaughter—but looking back I saw they made no effort to follow us. It seemed that their intent was merely to break up the mime show and to clear the public square.

The crowd reached the waterfront. As people realized they were no longer pursued, the panic subsided. Some began to laugh and joke. Others debated whether to turn back and join the handful who had chosen to fight the soldiers. Their enthusiasm was dampened by the arrival of stragglers with broken heads and bleeding wounds. I drew to one side and kept my mouth shut. The squabbling between the Egyptian king and his people had nothing to do with me.

Little by little the crowd dispersed.

The day was warm and clear, with only a few thin clouds in the sky. The waterfront had an air of quiet calm, broken only by the rustling of palm trees in the breeze, the cries of seagulls, and the occasional blaring of a horn from the Pharos Lighthouse.

I sat at the top of a flight of steps leading down to the water and gazed across the harbor at the lighthouse, a magnificent sight that always seemed slightly unreal, no matter how many times I saw it. Bethesda sat beside me, ignoring the protocols of status, and I did not correct her. What man would object to being seen in the company of such a beautiful girl wearing such a lovely new dress?

“That was exciting!” I said.

“You said you wanted an adventure on your birthday, Master.”

“Yes, well, let’s hope that was it.”

I gazed at the islands in the harbor, which belonged to King Ptolemy and were covered with temples, gardens, and palaces. But where were the ships? At this time of year, as the sailing season resumed, the harbor should have been crowded with merchant ships from distant lands carrying all sorts of goods in and out of the port of Alexandria. I counted only a handful of vessels, and most of those were local fishing boats and pleasure craft. The war between Rome and Mithridates had caused uncertainty and chaos and made the sea a dangerous place. Now, whenever a seafaring vessel entered the harbor, it was likely not to be a merchant ship loaded with goods but a boat full of refugees in search of a safe haven, bringing whatever treasures they possessed in hopes of purchasing the favor of King Ptolemy and his ministers.

“What did you think of the mime show, Master?”

I laughed as an image of the merchant on the latrina popped into my mind. “Very funny. And shocking! I can’t imagine how those players thought they could get away with it, putting on a show like that practically in the shadow of the royal palace. In some alley in Rhakotis, perhaps, but not in a better part of town, with soldiers patrolling every street. I suppose it shows just how far things have gone. That last skit … it seemed to hint that the king’s brother might be heading to Alexandria—with an army at his back, no doubt. Is there going to be a war here in Egypt, I wonder? War here, and there, and everywhere.…”

It seemed that the whole world had been plunged into war in the last few years. First there was war in Italy, between Rome and her Italian confederates. Then, seeing Rome’s weakness, King Mithridates had swept across Asia and the Greek islands, driving out the Romans. Now it seemed that Egypt, too, might become a battleground, between the king and his brother. I thought it strange that the audience had appeared sympathetic to the idea of a return by the king’s older brother; perhaps they took seriously the title he had given himself when he was on the throne, Soter, which meant something like “Savior.” But had they not already driven him off the throne and out of the city once before? Now they wanted to drive out the younger brother, and welcome the elder brother back. How fickle the Alexandrian mob was, and what short memories they had!

If war came to the city, what would it mean for Bethesda and me?

A burst of boyish laughter interrupted my brooding. Two figures ran down the steps next to us. I recognized them as the young pipe players from the mime show. At the last step, the boys slipped off their thin sandals and stepped into the water.

After cooling their feet, they came running up the steps again. I watched them head toward a nearby stone bench beneath a large palm tree, where others from the mime troupe had gathered.

“Well, it’s good to know those two survived the skirmish, and seem no worse for wear,” I said. “The rest of the players are smiling and laughing, too. I wonder if that’s the whole group? I count only eight, including those boys. What do you think, Bethesda? Shall we go say hello to them?”

“
Them?
”

“Yes, we can tell them what we thought of their show, and see if they all escaped unharmed.”

“
They?
” She looked at me askance.

“The mime troupe.” I tried to make my face a blank, but there was no fooling Bethesda. Among the players under the palm tree, I had spotted Bethesda’s double. It was her, and her alone, I was curious to meet.

I stood, took Bethesda’s hand, and pulled her up beside me. “Come. It’s my birthday, and I shall indulge my every whim.”

Begrudgingly, Bethesda followed me.

I tried to think of a way to break in on their conversation, but I need not have bothered. One of the young flute players saw us approaching, then did a double take and nudged his partner, who did likewise.

“Look, Axiothea!” cried one of the boys. “It’s
you
!”

The actress, who was seated on the bench, glanced in our direction, then looked at the boy. “What do mean?”

“That girl—she looks like you, Axiothea. She’s even wearing a green dress, like you are.”

The actress rose from the bench and stepped toward us, gazing steadily at Bethesda, until the two of them were face to face.

To be sure, they were not mirror images. Bethesda was slightly shorter and had longer hair and a somewhat shapelier figure. Their faces were by no means identical—Bethesda was clearly the younger of the two—but only a blind man could fail to see the similarity. The green color of their clothing was so close that the garments might have been cut from the same cloth, although—even excluding my prejudice in the matter—Bethesda’s dress was the more elegant, with finer embroidery.

Axiothea took a step back. She shook her head. “I don’t see it.”

“Nor do I,” said Bethesda.

A handsome, broad-shouldered man was seated on the bench, dressed in a thin linen robe that covered him from head to foot. He slapped his knee and laughed, which caused the monkey perched on his shoulders to chatter loudly and scurry back and forth.

“Isn’t that just like a woman?” The man grinned. “Can’t see what’s right in front of her—even when she looks in a mirror!” The others laughed, and the monkey bared its teeth and clapped its long, bony hands. From the way the others deferred to him, I took this fellow to be the leader of the mime troupe.

“Seriously, Melmak,” said Axiothea with a sigh, “I don’t see any resemblance.” Even her manner and the inflection of her voice reminded me of Bethesda.

“Nor do I,” Bethesda repeated.

The two of them locked eyes again and seemed to hold a staring contest, like two Egyptian cats. Then, in the same instant, they both smiled.

“But you are very pretty,” said Axiothea.

“And so are you,” said Bethesda.

“Vanity, vanity!” cried Melmak. “You’re merely flattering yourselves, if you could but see it.”

“Who are
you,
then?” said Axiothea, addressing me.

“My name is Gordianus. I come from—”

“Rome,” said Axiothea. “With such a name and such an accent, you couldn’t be from anywhere else. But I will say your Greek is better than that of most Romans I’ve met.”

I nodded at the compliment. “And this is Bethesda, my slave.”

“Ah, the girl is your property, then?” Melmak stood up and approached us. I saw just how tall and broad-shouldered he was. The monkey came along for the ride, clinging to the locks of his thick black hair. “Does she have any acting experience?”

“Why do you ask?”

“Given the fact that she and Axiothea look so alike … we might be able to do something with that. Pull a switch on the audience.”

“A switch?”

“Make one disappear, and the other appear. You know—a bit of magic. How can one woman be in two places? The audience loves that sort of thing.”

“That’s my Melmak, always thinking,” said Axiothea.

“Even without any sleight of hand, the sight of twins—and beautiful twins, at that—is inherently exciting to the men in the audience,” said Melmak. “Don’t you think so, Gordianus?”

I looked at Bethesda and Axiothea, felt a prickling of my imagination, and then cleared my throat as the two of them stared back at me.

“What do you think, Gordianus?” said Melmak. “I’m not proposing to buy the girl from you, but I’d pay for the loan of her services, as part of the troupe.”

I shook my head. “From what I’ve seen, your work is far too dangerous.”

“Dangerous?” said Melmak.

“I was there today, in the audience. I could have been killed—and you lot might have been arrested and thrown in a dungeon, for ridiculing the king. For all I know, some of you
were
arrested.”

“No, we’re all here,” said Melmak.

“Only eight, in the whole troupe? Surely there must be more. How could only eight of you perform so many parts?”

“Makeup, costumes, props, and padding.”

I looked from face to face. Besides Melmak and Axiothea and the two boys, there were four men, all of average size and a bit older than I. “But which of you played the fat merchant?”

“That was me, of course.” Melmak beamed.

“Not possible! I realize the merchant’s costume was padded, but he had a fat face. And his voice was completely different from yours.”

“It’s called acting, my good fellow. I know that Rome is a backwater when it comes to the theater, but—”

“And there was an acrobat who’s not here. The muscular man in a
nemes
headdress who juggled before the show.”

“Me again!” said Melmak. He made a fist and drew it to his forehead, then pulled back the long, loose sleeve of his tunic to show off his biceps. “As you can see, the muscles are real, and not a costume. We all take on many parts. At present, Axiothea is the only female in the troupe, so some of us men play the occasional matron.”

“The old whore in the first skit—that was Axiothea?”

“Yes. We’ve tried it with a man, but it’s not as funny.”

“Very impressive,” I said, amazed that so few could play so many.

“Ha! Acting, he calls it!” One of the men stepped forward. In some ways he was the most striking member of the company, for although his physique was ordinary and his features nondescript, his dark, longish hair and neatly trimmed beard were bisected from front to back by a stripe of white. Such a marking would have seemed more likely on a furry animal than on a man, but the curious coloration appeared to be natural. “My name is Lykos, and I am
not
an actor. And no matter how fervently Melmak and the others may think that their thespian talents create the illusions of the mime show, it’s
I
who do most of the work in that department.”

Melmak begrudged the man a smile. “Lykos is our artificer, and I suppose he does deserve some credit.”

“
Some
credit? Well, that’s more than I usually get.”

“Artificer?” I said.

“Lykos makes the costumes and wigs,” said Axiothea.

“Costumes and wigs? Is that all I am, a glorified seamstress and wig-master?” Lykos snorted. “I design and create the props. I oversee the makeup. It’s I who make Melmak as fat as the king, I who can make even Axiothea old and ugly. The artificer, not the actors, is the true master of theatrical illusion, the miracle worker of the mimes!”