Steven Saylor - Raiders of the Nile

“So, when Zenon contacted me and put forth his scheme, it seemed that my prayers had been answered. I responded cautiously at first, and then with more and more enthusiasm. It was fascinating work, planning all the details of the raid. It was I who suggested that the Jackal would be the perfect man to make the duplicate wagon and crate, and the fake sarcophagus to put inside it.

“And when it was all over, with a full pardon from the king and a very large payment for myself and for Metrodora, I could travel anywhere I wished. I could begin a new life with…”

“With Axiothea?”

He bowed his head. “Yes. But then you had to spoil everything. You and that stupid lion!”

He glared at me and lurched against his chains. I flinched and pressed myself against the wall, but the chains held him fast.

“The kidnapping of Axiothea,” I said. “Whose idea was that? The Jackal’s?”

Puzzlement was added to the hatred on his face. “How did you know the Jackal was involved in that?”

“Answer my questions first, Artemon, and then I’ll answer yours. Why did you kidnap that girl?”

“For money, of course. Her lover is very rich. And … for revenge.”

“Revenge against whom?”

“Her rich lover, of course! His name is Tafhapy. I didn’t just want his money. I wanted to make him as miserable as I could, by taking the person dearest to him.”

“But why? What grudge do you have against this Tafhapy?”

“That’s none of your business, Roman!”

“But the kidnapping was a failure. Tafhapy never replied to your demands.”

Artemon frowned. “That was a disappointment. The Jackal assured me that Axiothea was precious to him. Why did he never respond?”

Because the henchmen of the Jackal took the wrong girl, I could have told him. But I saw no point in saying more about Bethesda than I had to. “Why did you change your mind at the very end?” I asked. “Why did you put the girl on the Medusa, and try to board the ship yourself, when you knew the king’s warships would sink her?”

“Because you exposed the fake sarcophagus! What was I to do after that, with all the men watching me and hanging on my every word? If they realized I’d tricked them, even those fools would have turned on me. I decided to do what King Ptolemy had done-take a wild chance. I decided to steal the sarcophagus, after all. Then I’d set out across the sea and do what the men were expecting me to do-make myself king of Crete, with Axiothea as my queen!”

His eyes glimmered at the sweetness of that impossible dream. In my last moments aboard the Medusa, I, too, if only for an instant, had glimpsed such a dream.

“What about the warships? You knew they were out there, beyond the harbor, waiting to ram the Medusa. ”

“We’d have outrun them! They came at Mavrogenis with the advantage of surprise, but I’d have known they were there, and we’d have slipped past them. It wouldn’t have been easy, but we could have done it-I’m sure of it! And if that had happened, I’d be thanking you now instead of cursing you, Roman, for guiding me to the destiny that should have been mine all along. Instead … I’ll end with nothing, not even my own head.”

I felt a stab of pity for him. I suppressed it. Because of him, Menkhep and Ujeb and Captain Mavrogenis and scores of others had died horrible deaths. He had been willing to sacrifice all of them for a few bags of gold and a fresh start.

“Why Crete?” I said. “Why not Cyrene? Why not go there and claim your birthright as the son of Apion?”

Artemon stared at me for a moment, speechless, then threw back his head and laughed. “Oh, Pecunius, when will you cease to surprise me? I thought you’d seen through all my deceptions, yet you still believe me to be the king’s cousin!”

“Then you’re not the bastard son of Apion?”

“Of course not!”

“But Menkhep told me … and all the men seemed to think…”

“They believed what Metrodora and I wanted them to believe. And so did you, it seems.”

“Who are you, then, Artemon? Where did you come from?”

“I’m exactly what I told you and the others in that little speech I gave before the raid. ‘The bastard son of a whore’ I called myself, and so I am.”

“But not the son of Apion?”

“Give it up, Pecunius!” He shook his head. “I was born in Alexandria, the son of a whore and a freeborn Egyptian who never cared to claim me. I grew up poor but free alongside my twin sister.”

“So it’s true that you had a twin?”

His face softened. “Artemisia was her name. She was beautiful and clever-far cleverer than I-and always kind to me. Then our mother died. Artemisia went her way, and I went mine. A visiting merchant from Syria took a fancy to me, and took me back to Damascus with him. I’d taught myself to read and write, and he thought to train me as a scribe. How I loved all those books in his library! But while he fiddled with me, I fiddled with his accounts. When he discovered how many shekels I’d stolen from him, he was furious. He would have tortured and killed me, I have no doubt. Instead, I killed him. The Syrian was the first man I ever killed, but not the last. By the time I arrived in the Delta, I was quite experienced in the ways of crime. I fell in with that gang of fools, who desperately needed a leader, and it all worked out beautifully. The rest, you know.”

He narrowed his eyes. “Now it’s your turn to talk, Pecunius. Who are you, and why did you come to the Cuckoo’s Nest? How is it that you know the Jackal? Why did you attack me after I boarded the Medusa, and how did you manage to get off? And Axiothea-was she still aboard … when the Medusa sank?”

I had intended to answer his questions, as he had answered mine, but now, I hesitated. Though Artemon was in chains, I still feared him. He had revealed himself to be a vengeful and remorseless killer. He already hated me for having ruined his plans. How would he react if he knew I had deceived him from the start and had come to the Delta to take back the girl he knew as Axiothea?

“Go ahead, Pecunius. Speak! What do you have to lose? In a short while, we’ll both be dead.”

His words sent a chill through me. Artemon had betrayed the king and was responsible for the loss of the sarcophagus, but what was my crime? Repeatedly I had told Zenon that Bethesda and I were prisoners of the bandits, but why should he believe me? Artemon was right. My fate was to be questioned under torture, and then disposed of. What had Artemon said? There were to be no survivors, no witnesses . Like everyone else who had taken part in the raid, willingly or not, I was to die.

And what of Bethesda? Surely her fate would be the same as mine. In trying to rescue her, I had brought about her destruction.

“Speak, Pecunius!” shouted Artemon.

I clenched my teeth. I shut my eyes. I wanted no more to do with him.

From somewhere nearby, distorted by echoes amid the stone passageways, I heard the sound of boyish laughter. Did I imagine it, or was there a child in the king’s dungeon? I heard the sound again, closer than before. Unless I had gone completely mad, I recognized that laughter. It was Djet!

I heard the laughter again, just outside the door to the cell. A moment later, I heard clanking sounds as the door was unlocked and unbarred. The door swung open on creaking hinges.

Djet appeared in the doorway. Smiling and laughing, he ran to me and threw his arms around me.

“Djet, what happened to you?”

He spoke so quickly I could hardly make out the words. “I got off the ship as soon as I could, just as you told me to do, and then I hid in the rafters of the customs house, then I climbed on the roof and watched the Medusa sail off, and then I saw the king’s boat-and you were on it! I ran to the master and I told him you must still be alive. And I was right!”