The Bronze God of Rhodes

BOOK VII — TIS

I was eating my morning sop when Manethôs and Phiôps, the workman from his temple, came into the courtyard. The latter bore a pick and shovel, which he gave to Tis's head gardener.

"We have dug a grave for my poor little Satenbastis," said Manethôs . (This meant that Phiôps had dug while Manethôs directed, for the youthful priest was not the sort of man to lay hand to tool if he could help it.) "This afternoon I shall fetch a fellow priest to assist me with the sacred rites."

"Who is for town with me?" said Tis, dipping his sop. "This morning will be given to buying Thoueris' necklace; this afternoon to the bullfight. You, Onas, must come with us this morning, as I trust your judgment in jewelry beyond my own."

"I shall be glad to help," said Onas. "But I wonder why you buy not a piece for your wife at wholesale in the course of your business."

Tis spread his hands helplessly. "You know women. She has set her heart upon a collar displayed by Men the goldsmith, made of amethysts in a golden setting. It is up to me to chaffer Men down without letting him know that I simply must have this bauble. Your duty, my dear Onas, will be chiefly to sneer at Men's goods and find fault with them."

I said: "Sir, you won't forget to pursue our special inquiry?"

"Patience, patience, my dear young man! With patience is the baboon taught to gather coconuts. Come you with us?"

"I thank you, but what I really need is to meet some Egyptian sculptor who can tell me about the techniques employed on those colossi in Memphis."

"I can help you there," said Manethôs . "This morning go I to the shop of Harmaïs the tombstone maker, to order a stone for Satenbastis. If you take not too long, I can interpret for you."

Berosos announced his intention of going with Tis, while Dikaiarchos said: "Thank you, but I have had my fill of sight-seeing for the nonce. Besides, yesterday's tramp made me realize my age. May I lurk in your library? Some of the titles there I have not read."

And so it was arranged. After a delay (caused, as usual, by Onas' tardiness) we climbed into a large four-wheeled carriage of the Persian type, drawn by a pair of whites with ostrich-plume crowns affixed to their crownpieces. Tis's coachman drove us across the canal, through the groves and gardens of the suburbs, through the Great White Wall, and into Memphis. Here the traffic slowed us to a crawl.

"It waxes worse every year," said Tis, mopping his broad face. "Ever harder it is to find a place to leave one's carriage. The police and soldiery harry one to move on, lest traffic be blocked." He spoke in Egyptian to the coachman, then said: "Psammos will drop us here, as we can walk the rest of the way faster than ride. He will leave the car at a public stable and wait upon me at Men's shop. If we get our errands done in time, let us all meet at Zer's inn for lunch, eh? It is a respectable place."

While the rest followed Tis towards his goldsmithery, I accompanied Manethôs to his stonecutter. Harmaïs was a burly man, blind in one eye, with whom Manethôs held a long conference on the monument to Manethôs ' lamented pussycat.

Then, with the priest interpreting, I tried to learn something of Egyptian methods of sculpture. I will not repeat this labored and halting conversation. Manethôs , for all his fluency in Greek, had never learnt the technical terms of sculpture either in my tongue or his own and was at his wits' end to convey Harmaïs' and my meanings, one to the other.

Although the Egyptians are marvelous draftsmen and excellent masons, I soon discovered that there was little for me to learn, professionally, in this ancient land. For one thing, the Egyptians have a rigid and absurdly detailed set of canons of proportion, arrived at thousands of years ago and never changed since.

They also employ a limited set of inflexible, formal stances to which all statues conform. These poses are like those one sees in very old Greek statues, such as are kept as holy relics in some temples. This is natural, as we Hellenes first learnt the arts from the Egyptians. But we have gone far beyond them. An Egyptian sculptor would deem it shocking to portray a subject in a lifelike pose or to make a statue look like the individual depicted.

"Look!" said Harmaïs, proudly unrolling a sheet of papyrus. "This is a sketch of the new relief of King Ptolemaios, which I shall execute on a wall of the temple of Phtha."

I should have laughed had not good manners forbidden. Here stood this Macedonian adventurer—in real life a short, stout man—in the guise of a conventional Egyptian king: a slender, delicate-looking person, wearing only a linen loincloth, a towering crown, and a broad Egyptian necklace, raising his hands in the Egyptian gesture of homage to the gods. Over his head and beneath his feet crawled those little processions of men, beasts, birds, and flowers wherewith the Egyptians write their language.

I thanked Harmaïs and took my leave. For a time we lingered about the colossi at the temenos of Phtha, brushing off the guides who swarmed about us like flies about offal. Then we joined our friends at Zer's.

"The polluted necklace is not yet bought," said Tis. "Though fleered and sneered we for hours, Men has not yet met my price. Onas' fault is that he is too honest and open. When he likes a piece, it is hard for him not to show his true feeling. Howsoever, we will have another try this afternoon, after the bullfight. Are you with us, Master Chares?"

"Thank you," I said, "but if you don't mind, I will return to your house. I'm still stiff and sore from being thrown as from a heavy catapult yesterday."

"By the gods, what is this?" said Tis. "I saw that you bore bruises but did not think it polite to ask about them."

I told of my reception by the strategos Alkman.

"I am sorry to hear that," said Tis. "Many a time and oft have I warned Alkman—" He paused.

"You must know him well," said I. "I should think twice before admonishing this two-eyed Polyphemos."

"I have met him," said Tis shortly.

"Do you and he do business together?"

"Not really. Have some more wine, will you not? And try these honey scones. Have another sardine!"

Manethôs ' eyes and mine met in a brief glance of shared suspicion. Soon the priest arose, saying: "I must be off to arrange the funeral."

Berosos said to Tis: "With due respect, sir, never have I seen a folk so mad about funerals as your countrymen. Since men die not often enough to suit them, equally sumptuous rites they hold for bulls and cats and other pets."

I also took my leave. Instead of returning at once to the house of Tis, I wandered down to the waterfront and found the Hathor. In the boat, Horos played checkers with a fellow boatman while Zazamanx mended cordage.

"You go back to Tamiathis now?" said Horos.

"Not yet. But I want you to stay close by your boat for the next day or two. We may wish to push off in a hurry."

"You kill somebody, maybe?" said he, grinning brightly.

"Not yet," I said.

For part of the return, journey, I solicited a ride in a two-horse chariot, driven by a sporting young gentleman on his way to the desert for a shot at a lion. Although the ride saved me a weary walk, the youth drove at a pace that reduced me to speechless terror. I have never been at ease around horses, and to go bouncing and banging along in this flimsy little car at full gallop frightened me more than all of Demetrios' spears and missiles.

My heart pounded as I neared the house of Tis. In truth, my bruises were nothing. My real reason for returning ahead of the others was to see Amenardis alone.

The Nubian giant admitted me. As I entered the house, Dikaiarchos' deep voice boomed from the library.

"O Chares!" he said. "Look at this."

In the library Dikaiarchos showed me a roll. "It looks like Thoukydides' Peloponnesian War," I said.

"Ah, but look there!" He pointed a knobby finger.

I read, in small neat writing on the yellow papyrus: "Property of the Library of Kôs."

"Are there any more like this?" I asked.

"I think not, or at least not many. I have been through many of these rolls, and this is the only such legend that I have found. However, I have discovered evidence that somebody has erased similar legends on some of the other books with pumice."

"The men of the phalanx begin to take their proper places," I said. "By a slip at lunch, Tis admitted that he's intimate with Alkman. I think we have here one of those archthieves whereof Tauros and Manethôs have told us. Semken and Alexis, I doubt not, work for him, stealing books from far and near. I'd wager that, had we the librarians of Kôs and Rhodes with us, they could identify many of their stolen scrolls. And this explains why Alkman used me with such barbarity; he knew at once whom I was after and foresaw trouble for his private dealings with Tis, were I encouraged to pursue my quest in Memphis."

"Had he been cleverer," said Dikaiarchos, "he would have smiled sweetly and sent you upriver to Thebes and beyond on a false scent. But now, what shall we do?"

"I don't know; be prepared for anything. I've told Horos to stand by for a hurried departure. The polluted robe may be in this very house."

Said Dikaiarchos: "If Alkman be hand in glove with Tis, I don't think-it would get us far to complain to the strategos."

"On the contrary, he'd probably hang us all for blasphemy." I caught my breath. "Excuse me."

Having glimpsed Amenardis in the garden, I went out to her. We fell into talk, walking slowly among the flower beds. At first we exchanged conventional greetings and compliments, though when we looked into each other's eyes I do not think either of us was deceived about what was going to happen.

"Did Tis get necklace for Thoueris?" she asked in her deep, caressing voice.

"He hadn't when I saw him at lunch, but he means to beat down Men some more this afternoon. It must be a costly piece."

"That so. I see it in shop of Men. Tis never give me one like that."

"Why not, dear Amenardis?"

"Because I never bear child. I drink Nile water; I pray to Isis; I take medicine the doctor give. Nothing do any good. So now Thoueris get all the—how you say—attention."

I was tempted to remark that the only effect of Nile water on me had been to give me a flux, but I did not know if such a jest would offend. I said:

"It must be hard for you, after giving him all those years."

She muttered: "Neterou nophrou! Sometimes I think I endure it no more. Run away."

"If the right man offered to take you with him, would you consider it seriously?"

She looked at me sidelong. "Maybe. What think you, Chares?"

"I think that if I get out of here alive, I might be the right man."

"Alive? What you afraid of?"

I smiled. "Come, my dear, not everything is what it seems in the house of Tis."

"How you mean?"

"Oh, you know as well as I. Tis calls himself a trader in used goods, but I don't think he pays for all the things he sells."

"You too smart for own good, Chares. You let Tis know you think that—" She made a clucking sound to indicate a throat-cutting, and her voice sank to a whisper. "He suspect you know, now, I think."

"It's true, though, is it not?"

"Maybe. What would you do? Alkman no help you."

"I had already figured that out."

"I no help you if I stay here with Tis. While I his wife, Tis's fortune my fortune."

"Help me to get Demetrios' robe back, and flee with me to Rhodes!" I urged.

"Oh? You like me?"

"Darling, I—I'm mad with love of you. I'm no orator, but from the moment I saw you I haven't been able to think of anything else."

"You nice boy. Maybe I love you, too, a little. We see." She looked at the sun. "Bullfight already started. Must hurry to show you where the robe kept."

I followed her into the house. First she went into the kitchen and lit a rushlight from the hearthfire. She fixed this in a holder and brought it into Tis's bedroom. The sight of Tis's broad bed drove me nearly mad with desire. I caught Amenardis' eye and indicated the bed.

"In house full of servants? You crazy?" she said.

Amenardis went to a wooden panel at one side, ornately carved with reliefs of coiling cobras. She twisted an ornamental knob, which turned out to be the handle of a latch. With a quick look at the door to make sure that none was near, she opened the panel and stepped in. I followed. She closed the secret door behind me.

The rushlight discovered walls of brown brick and a stair leading down. I descended cautiously until, I judged, we were wholly below ground. Then the tunnel ran almost straight; the brick gave place to solid rock, roughhewn.

Amenardis moved slowly so as not to extinguish the rushlight. I could see little but her silhouette against the feeble yellow light and a few feet of wall, floor, and ceiling. With a gown of gossamer and the light on the far side of her, she might as well have been nude.

The tunnel ran on and on, now and then bending a little. Something like a cobweb brushed my face; I almost cried out, snatching at the stuff with my fingers. There was no sound but our breathing and the scuff of our shoes on the dusty stone floor—and, perhaps, the faint rustle of some creature of the underground, surprised out of its burrow.

We walked for at least five or six furlongs. Then Amenardis said: "Watch step!"

We passed a couple of side tunnels, and our passage bent this way and that. Then it seemed to come to a blank end.

Amenardis pushed open a door. The rushlight wavered as she stepped down.

We stood in a spacious underground chamber, perhaps twenty by fifty feet. Three sides were hewn from soft rock while the fourth was closed by a wall of brick.

The door through which we had come was a thin flat wooden structure, coated with plaster on the chamber side and modeled and painted to look like the rock, with an irregularity that would serve as a handle to open it. In a strong light I do not think it would have befooled anybody, but by rushlight, especially if you were not looking for it, you would never have noticed it.

The central part of the chamber was taken up by a colossal sarcophagus of sable stone, such as might have held the body of a Titan or a Kyklops. It towered up over our heads.

"What is this?" I whispered. "I've never seen the like."

Amenardis waved at the sarcophagus. "Coffin of Apis bull. You in rooms under the temple of Osiris. Tis have men dig tunnel, take over this room for his band and loot. Nobody ever come in here, since the coffin was rolled in and entrance closed up."

I looked more closely at the sarcophagus. It was made of one single piece of polished black granite with a close-fitting lid. It was, I should judge, over twelve feet long and eight wide, and almost as high as it was long. The thing must have weighed hundreds—nay, thousands—of talents. I could see why "all Memphis" had to turn out to haul such monstrous objects from the city to this temple in the desert.

"Is the bull in there?" I asked. In my excited fancy the vast lid rose up and an angry deity issued forth.

"No. Tis cut hole in the sarcophagus, make door. Cut up mummy of bull and take out to make room for loot. I not see for years, since Tis marry Thoueris."

She searched along the end Of the sarcophagus, low down. At last she said: "Here door!"

I slid my fingers along (he granite and felt the crack. The door was big enough for a stooping man lo go through. The insetting of this door, too, had been a masterly job. My fingers found the gamma-shaped slot for the key.

"Locked," said Amenardis in a despondent tone. "No have key. Can you pick this lock?"

"Alas, no! Do you know where Tis keeps the key?"

"Keep one on string around neck. Have other, spare, but I not know where he hide. Sony. I no good to you after all." She began to weep quietly.

"On the contrary, my darling, this is a great stride forward. Now that I know where the accursed robe is, perhaps you can find that spare key, or I can learn how to pick the lock, or something. Everything is fine and I love you."

"You do? You not just say that to make me help you?"

"Of course not!"

I took the rushlight from her, set it on the floor, and took her in my arms. Her rich, thinly clad body seemed to melt into mine with a gentle but irresistible gliding, writhing motion.

When passion drives, a floor of rock thinly covered with sand is as good as a golden couch.

Later Amenardis said: "Chares! Hurry! Tis come back from city any time!"

Feeling magnificent, albeit a little lightheaded, I made myself presentable and picked up the rushlight. As I neared the door of the tunnel, something moved at floor level. When I stooped to see, I got a shock. There crouched a large black scorpion, hoisting its tail over its back and spreading its nippers.

I gave a grunt of dismay and stepped back, bumping into Amenardis.

"Is—is Tis a sorcerer who keeps familiar spirits to spy upon his people?" I said, trying to keep my teeth from chattering.

"Oh, that!" said Amenardis. "Step on it. Your shoes thicker than mine."

The scorpion scuttled. I brought my foot down upon it, albeit with loathing. "Let's get out of here," I said. "Rhou-ek."

She gave a low laugh. "You mean rhou-en, unless you want to stay here while I go."

"The gods forbid!" I found the plaster-covered door and blundered through.

"Your friend Onas," said Tis at dinner, "has been at me all day to give him a glimpse of the dread Book of Thôth. In sooth, he drove a hard bargain with me, that he would not help me in the final haggle with Men unless I would fulfill his desire." The dealer in antiquities cast a possessive glance upon the splendid gorget of gold and amethysts that gleamed on Thoueris' neck.

"So," continued Tis, "I have—perhaps rashly—agreed to show it to him, this very night. For magical reasons, which as fellow wizards you all appreciate, this book must be scanned only at midnight."

"Are we all invited?" said Dikaiarchos.

"Certainly, my dear sir. I should be unhappy if any of you failed to come."

Berosos said: "Against rash adventures tonight the stars have warned me."

"Oh, you and your stars!" said Onas.

"And who won twenty drachmai by betting on the red bull, on whom he had cast a rough horoscope and so knew it would win?"

Manethôs : "Berosos, if the Divine Wisdom watches over me, I think it will also watch over you—even though you worship it with corrupt Babylonian rites."

Onas, Berosos, and I had brought our short artilleryman's swords on the journey, but Berosos had left his in charge of Horos. He pleaded that he would be unable to use it, and he disliked its weight and inconvenience. Before midnight Onas and I strapped our swords to our thighs and donned our military kilts, which hid the weapons. Then we went forth to meet our host.

Tis handed me a bronzen lamp, which sputtered and sent forth a powerful stench of castor oil. Dikaiarchos, wrapped in a voluminous cloak against the chill of the desert night, got another; so did Berosos, while Tis bore one himself.

"Come," said he. "You are about to see something few men know of."

He led us into his bedroom and opened the secret door. "In you go; watch the steps. Go straight along the tunnel."

Holding my lamp high, I descended the steps for the second time. Tis followed.

Ahead, my people trudged in single file, like a procession of ghosts. The lamplight flickered and flared, throwing weird shadows on the rough dun walls, as if the animal-headed gods of Egypt were keeping pace with us.

As we came to the first fork in the tunnel, Tis called out: "Stand, pray. Let me by."

He squeezed past us and took the lead. I passed the side tunnels with an uneasy glance, wishing I knew whither they went and whether indeed they were empty.

Tis opened the door at the end of the tunnel and ushered us into the burial chamber. While my comrades gasped at the sight of the vast black sarcophagus, Tis explained where we were, adding:

"You must all swear secrecy about what you see here. The priests of Osiris might not like my making so free with their catacomb for warehouse space. Will you hold this lamp, pray?"

Tis handed the lamp to Manethôs and brought out a key from his bosom. It was a short, heavy, forked bronze key of the new type, which throws the bolt by a single twist of the wrist instead of by teasing it across by stages. He slipped the ring on the end of the key over his middle finger and felt along the sarcophagus until he found the little door. He thrust the key in and turned it with a click. The door opened.

Standing behind Tis on tiptoe, I raised my lamp and moved my head this way and that, to see as much as I could of the inside of the sarcophagus. I had a glimpse of shelving piled with goods: precious metals, jewels, silks, and above all with books, great stacks of them.

Tis, bending double, reached inside. Then he backed out and straightened up. In one hand he held a folded piece of textile; in the other, a scroll.

"Here, Onas," he said, proffering the scroll.

Onas took the scroll and began to unroll it. "Hold your lamp steady, Berosos," he said. "I cannot see to read. By the First Ennead, it is the genuine—"

I spoke to Tis: "Sir, what's that in your other hand?"

The mass of fabric which he held, pale blue-gray with a glint of golden thread and spangles, looked in the dim light like that which we sought.

Tis did not try to deny it. "Careless of me, is it not? Being my latest acquisition, it was on top of the pile."

"But, if—" I began.

"It matters not," he said. "You shall not have this back. I am fain to keep it for my collection, and you will have no use for it where you are going."

Tis nodded towards the door. In through the portal filed a group of men. Some wore Egyptian skirts; some, Greek shirts. Some bore lanterns or links, but all carried knives in their hands.

"So much protection for your guests?" I said. "Or for you?"

"O Chares, almost I like you! Alas, that you should be so inquisitive as to learn more than is good for you to know!"

"I know nothing."

"A fine performance, my boy, but came I down here before dinner and traced two sets of fresh footprints. There were also marks other than those of feet."

The last of the newcomers, about ten in all, had now filed into the chamber. Among them I recognized Alexis and Semken. One hardy-looking rogue put his back to the door.

I said quickly: "O Tis, I can make it worth your while to forget your grudge and let us go."

The archthief shook his head. For an instant I thought he assented, but then I recalled that among many foreigners this gesture means "no" instead of "yes."

"Again you misjudge me," he said. "I have never forgotten a favor or forgiven a wrong."

"But, as a practical man—"

He smiled. "I told you that I am not a practical man. I am a romantic sentimentalist. But enough of talk." Stepping away from me, he raised his voice: "Chatbouthen sen!"

I hurled my lamp at Tis's head. There was a thud of lamp on skull and a flash of spilt and flaming oil. Tis fell at Onas' feet while the lamp rebounded clanking against the wall of the chamber. The spilt oil begun to burn with little dancing flames.

At the same time I shouted: "Onas! Grab the robe and run!" I snatched at my kilt to get my hands on my sword.

Onas looked up with a vague, far-off expression, as when he had talked in his shop in Rhodes of the mystical powers of gems. "Eh? Robe? This book—"

Berosos squealed like a slaughtered pig as a knife flashed and buried its blade in his fat. He stumbled and floundered heavily towards the door.

I got my hand on my hilt. Dikaiarchos, with one sweeping motion, whirled the cloak from his body and around his left arm, leaving bare his right arm, which grasped his sword.

A man stepped between me and Tis's body, drawing back his arm for a stab..

Dikaiarchos lunged at the man holding the door. The latter made a parrying motion, but the geographer's long blade skewered him through the guts.

I got my sword out at last, wondering how many I could take to the land of the shades with me. With odds of two to one, I had little hope of getting away.

There was a blinding flash, as of lightning; then a whole sequence of them, which lighted up the chamber with a ghastly, glaring, bluish light. Men cried out in terror. I glimpsed Manethôs, holding his lamp out from his body with one hand while he tossed something into the flame with the other. Then I could see nothing but whirling splotches of color.

I had started towards the robe, which lay beside Tis, and had begun an overhand slash at the man before me. Blindly I felt the blade bite meat and heard a hoarse yell. Blindly I stumbled over a body and groped on the ground. The fingers of my left hand touched silk. I snatched the garment up, whipping it about my left forearm for a shield.

A knife flashed close to me, and I heard the rip of cloth as it grazed me but sliced my garments. I struck out and missed; struck again at a hand that came out of the whirling spots of color to grasp my arm, and cut into something.

As my vision cleared, I saw Dikaiarchos holding the door, keeping two thieves in play with his sword; Berosos stumbling through the door into the tunnel; Manethôs throwing his lamp at Alexis; near him, Onas, like one walking in sleep, starting for the door at last; and some of Tis's thieves rubbing their eyes, being still unable to see after Manethôs' tame levin bolts had blasted their sight. Blades flashed yellow in the lamplight.

I may be small but in those days I was not slow. I sprang towards the men who were closing in on Manethôs and Onas. I cut, thrust, and caught stab after stab in the folds of De-metrios' robe. Though my longer blade gave me an advantage, I had to keep whirling and shifting as if I were dancing the rhoditikos, to keep three or four from closing in upon me at once. I could not press an attack on any one far enough to finish him, lest the others pull me down from the rear.

I got a thrust home into the back of a man who was about to stab Manethôs , who in turn was lunging at another man with his knife. Tis stirred and made as if to rise.

Then Onas was through the door, and Manethôs after him. I had almost reached it when a man caught the fluttering end of Demetrios' robe. I cut at him and missed, pulled with all my might, heard the fabric tear, and fell over backwards as it parted. I leaped up and ran down the tunnel. After me pounded Dikaiarchos, shouting:

"Faster! Hurry!"

The only light in the tunnel came from the few lamps in the chamber that had not been extinguished in the fight. As we went farther from the door, this light grew dimmer and dimmer until we groped in darkness. Ahead, I heard the footfalls and heavy breathing of my comrades.

Then light came after us again: a faintly winking yellow gleam.

"They're after us with the lamps," panted Dikaiarchos. "But they cannot run too fast for fear of blowing them out. Keep on!"

As the fight in the chamber of the bull sarcophagus had seemed to take no time at all, the flight down the tunnel seemed to take forever, though in fact it cannot have used more than the tenth part of an hour.

We burst through the door into Tis's bedchamber. Amenardis and Thoueris, drawn to the room by the noise, screamed at the sight of our tattered garments and streaming blood. Dikaiarchos again showed the greatest presence of mind. Dashing around to the other side of Tis's great ivory and ebony bed, he gasped:

"Help me with this! Pile things against the door!"

With mighty grunts Dikaiarchos and Onas pushed the bed against the secret door, while the rest of us piled chairs, vases, statues, and other movables on and around the bed. As we did so, there came a pounding on the door. The points of knives appeared through the thin paneling as the thieves stabbed at it from the other side.

"What happened?" said Amenardis. "Tis dead?"

"No, a bump on the pate only," I said.

"You take me like you promise?"

"Surely. Tell our servants to gather our gear."

"You not wait," she said. "Tunnels have other entrances, out in the desert. Soon these thieves think of them."

"Grab your stuff and run, boys," I said. "Can anybody harness and drive Tis's' wagon?"

"I can," said Onas.

While the rest of us cowed Tis's servants with our blades, Onas and Manethôs hitched up the whites by torchlight. We threw our belongings into the carriage and tumbled aboard. Onas cracked the whip; out of the stable we clattered.

At the gate the giant Nubian barred our way, waving a cudgel and shouting. While Onas disputed him, Dikaiarchos and I dropped out of the carriage on opposite sides. Dikaiarchos menaced him with a sword in front, and I threw myself against the backs of his knees from behind. Down went the giant with a yell. Dikaiarchos smote him smartly with the flat of his blade on his shaven crown. We dragged the unconscious man out of the way, each tugging on a leg, and resumed our journey.

When we leaped aboard the Hathor and awoke Horos and Zazamanx, the boatmen screamed with terror.

"You dead!" cried Horos. "Ghosts! All blood, blood, blood!"

"You'll be a ghost if you don't get this boat under way," I said. "Push off, quickly! Manethôs, I fear you must sacrifice your spare tunic for bandages."

"Take it," said the priest. "Berosos, I think, is the worst hurt."

The Babylonian, presenting the broadest target, had been stabbed in three places: arm, buttock, and a grazing cut along the ribs. In the flickering light of our link he looked greenish under his swarthiness. He groaned and cursed in guttural Syrian as Amenardis washed and bound his wounds.

Every one of us who had been in the light had at least one cut or prick of some sort. Mine was a small stab through the skin over the shoulder blade.

"Tychê favored us tonight," said Dikaiarchos. "A digit this way or that, and some of these wounds had been mortal.

Manethôs , what Thessalian wizardry did you work to make those flashing lights?"

The priest gave a quiet chuckle. "O Hellene, not meet is it that laymen should penetrate these arcane secrets. But since we are comrades in arms, I will tell you.

"Know that betimes we priests need a miracle to strengthen the faith of the unthinking masses. If the gods provide one not, we must do our poor best in their stead. Now, there grows a swamp moss which, gathered in due season, sheds seeds like fine impalpable powder, and this .powder burns with the levinlike light you saw. Only, in my haste, I blistered my own hand somewhat with the flame, Seth take it!"

Although the etesian wind now blew against us, we moved more swiftly than on our way up the Nile. We left the mast down, as the sail would be usable only on a few sharp bends. Instead, we manned all four oars. The boatmen and the two servants, being unwounded, did most of the rowing, but we relieved them all from time to time. We kept to the middle of the stream to take advantage of the swifter current, to avoid shoals, and to keep out of range of bowshots from the bank.

Sleeping cities drifted darkly past: Troia, Babylon, Kerkesoura, and the village of Delta, where the Nile casts off its first fork, the small Pelusiac branch. The glittering stars wheeled closely overhead, brilliantly white with glints of red and green and blue. They paled as a horned moon came up from the east.

We all knew, I think, that our problems were far from over. But, what with wounds and weariness and fear of arousing attention, we held our peace and caught what sleep we could through the dark hours. Despite all, I was as happy as I have seldom been. I was in love; I had my loved one; and we had escaped, at least for now, from our common foe.

As the eastern sky turned to green and gold, Manethôs said: "O Chares, were it not well to look at the robe, to see what is left of it?"

"I've been afraid to look," I said, unfolding the garment. "Oimoi! What sort of ragged relic is this to give a king?"

The robe was in much worse case than I had thought. It was slashed in every direction, and about a third of it was missing altogether, where the thief had torn off a piece. Onas whistled and said:

"It is too bad, Chares, that you used the garment for a shield."

"Listen to him who speaks!" I cried. "If you'd snatched it up and ran when I told you to, instead of mooning over your silly old book, we should have gotten through the door before the thieves could close in upon us. As things fell out, it was use the robe as I did or perish and lose it anyway."

"The book was just as important," said Onas. "With the Book of Thôth in our hands, it recks but little what our enemies do. We can amend any plight and retrieve any loss."

"Well, let's see you cast a spell to put the robe back into its pristine condition! Go on, what are you waiting for?"

Onas gave me a look wherein defiance struggled with apprehension. He got out the scroll, unrolled a cubit of it, and scanned its opening lines in the ruddy light of the rising sun. His lips moved. He frowned. His face fell, running down into despondent lines like a casting pattern of beeswax left too near the furnace.

After an instant more he silently handed the scroll to Manethôs and buried his head in his hands. As Manethôs scanned the book, his solemn, shaven face broke into a smile. He even gave a low laugh.

"Poor Onas!" he said. "This concerns the fabled Book of Thôth, forsooth, but it is not quite what he thought."

"What in the name of Herakles is it, man?" I asked.

Said Manethôs : "We have here a version of an old tale, long current in the land of Chem: the story of Sethenes Chamois. I will give you an abridged translation.

"There was a prince named Sethenes, surnamed Chamois, a son of the mighty King Rhameses Osymandyas. This Sethenes had made his life's work the study of the magical books in the Double House of Life, at the then capital of Neth-Ammon, which you Hellenes, for reasons I cannot fathom, call 'Thebes.'

"One day, fell Sethenes into talk with one of the king's sages. Now, Sethenes was a skeptic, like our friend Dikairachos here. 'AH this talk of the vasty powers of magic,' quoth he, 'is nought but mummery wherewith to cozen the simple. Never have I seen a wizard whose thaumaturgies were aught but sleights and tricks prestigious.'

" 'Be not so hasty, my son,' said the sage. 'Deeply into the arts theurgic have I delved; long have I pondered; far have I fared. I have read awful spells writ in blood on crumbling scrolls of human skin; I have talked with gibbering ghosts in ruined fanes by the light of the gibbous moon; I have communed with demons dire in secret ways beneath the pyramids. And I know better than to sneer at magic'

" 'Faugh, sirrah!' said Sethenes. 'An thou wouldst convince me, thou must needs monstrate to me.'

" 'That I will,' said the wise one. 'I will tell thee of a place where lieth concealed a book of portentous power, writ by the great god Thôth himself: Thôth, scribe of the gods, orderer of the universe, record keeper of the dead, viceroy of the supreme Ammon-Ra, and god of wisdom and learning.

" 'This book comprehended! two fell spells. The first of these enchanteth heaven and earth, sea and sky, mountain and river. Whoso readeth it shall understand the birds as they fly and the serpents as they crawl, and shall call fishes to the surface of the sea. The second enableth one stark dead in his tomb to come to life; to rise into heaven; to see the sun traversing heaven with his company of gods; to see the moon in her courses, scouring the sky with her company of shining stars; and to see the fishes as they swim in the depths of the sea.'

" 'And where lieth this marvelous volume, grandfather?' quoth Sethenes.

" 'It reposeth in the tomb of the princely wizard Nepher-kaphtha of Memphis, my son. Go, an thou wilt, and wrest it from the shade of Nepher-kaphtha.'

"So Sethenes prevailed upon his brother, Inaros, to come with him unto Memphis. There, for three days and three nights, searched they for the tomb among the necropoleis that lie west of the city. And at last, behold, they found that for which they sought.

"Thereupon uttered Sethenes magical words of power, whereat the earth opened before him. Into the tomb descended Sethenes and his brother Inaros. Within the tomb there glowed a radiance that paled their torches. For in the tomb lay Nepher-kaphtha's sarcophagus and in the sarcophagus lay the veritable Book of Thôth, blazing with silvery light, like that of the moon when she standeth at full above the desert.

"Within the tomb, also, Sethenes descried the form of the ka or shade of Nepher-kaphtha; and not only that of the wizard but also those of his wife Aoura and his young son Meros as well. Sethenes knew from his pervestigations that Nepher-kaphtha's wife and son had been buried at Koptos, far up the Nile. Nonetheless, their shades had come down the river to dwell with that of their beloved husband and father.

"As Sethenes gazed upon the three shades, the shade of Nepher-kaphtha spake: 'What wouldst thou, mortal?'

" 'I have come for the Book of Thôth,' quoth Sethenes.

" 'Thou shalt not have it,' said Nepher-kaphtha. 'It is mine, bought with my life and the lives of my family, and here by all the gods shall it stay!'

" 'It will do thee no good to bluster,' said Sethenes, 'for I am stronger than all of you and will take the book for all that ye can do.'

"Then spake the shade of Aoura, the wife of Nepher-kaphtha: Take not the book, O Sethenes. Its possession brings woe and calamity. Already it hath done us such scathe as it could, and wherefore shouldst thou suffer in thy turn?'

" 'Even so, I will take it,' said Sethenes.

" 'Take it not until thou hast heard our tale,' said Aoura. 'Then, haply, wilt thou be less rash and rapacious.'

" 'Speak, woman,' said Sethenes.

" 'Know,' began Aoura, 'that my noble husband, Nepher-kaphtha, dedicated his life to the study of magic. Wide, vast, and deep were his investigations. He hath read texts so ancient that none but he could grasp their import; he hath taken counsel with hoary sages, haggard mystics, and faceless presences from other planes.

" 'At last, for an hundred pieces of silver and two magnificent sarcophagi, he bought from a priest of Phtha the secret of the hiding place of the Book of Thôth. He learnt that the ibis-headed one, when he had written the book, inclosed it in a golden box. The golden box he placed in a silver box. The silver box he shut up in a box of palm wood. The wooden box he inclosed in a bronzen box. The box of bronze he placed in a box of iron, which he fastened round about with stubborn chains and sank in the Nile. By his magic he surrounded the box by serpents, scorpions, and other vermin, and coiled about the box lay a deathless serpent of gigantic size.

" 'Taking us with him, Nepher-kaphtha proceeded to Koptos. There, after Nepher-kaphtha had offered sacrifice in the temple of Isis and Harpokrates, the high priest of Koptas wrought for Nepher-kaphtha a waxen model of a raft and workmen with their suitable tools. Whenas Nepher-kaphtha recited a cantrip over these things, they came to life and bore him out into the river. After three days and three nights of searching, a spell enabled Nepher-kaphtha to find the box. Another cantrip caused the waters of the Nile to part, so that he could clamber down a ladder to the bottom. A third spell put to flight the venomous vermin—all but the deathless snake, which reared and struck at him.

" 'With his sword of burnished copper Nepher-kaphtha doughtily fought the supernatural serpent. Twice he cut it in twain, but each time the sundered parts clove together and the serpent resumed the conflict. A third time Nepher-kaphtha cut asunder its body. This time he sprinkled sand on the severed ends, so that, though strove they to join again, they could not by reason of the sand. Thus died the deathless serpent.

" 'Then opened Nepher-kaphtha the boxes, took out the golden box, and returned to his raft. There he opened the golden box and drew forth the Book of Thôth. He read the first spell, which revealed to him all the secrets of heaven and earth. He read the second spell, which enabled him to see the sun rising in the heavens with all its company of gods. To make certain his memory of these spells, Nepher-kaphtha wrote out a copy thereof on papyrus, washed the ink off the papyrus with beer, and drank the beer.

" 'But alas! The great god Thôth was wroth with us because of our act sacrilegious. He delated us to the Sun, the great Ammon-Ra, the chief and king of all the gods. Ammon-Ra therefore caused me and our son Meros to fall from the raft as it returned to Koptos and to drown.

" 'Nepher-kaphtha mourned us and buried us at Koptos. Then he set off down the Nile to his home; but, or ever he reached Memphis, his grief became too great for him to bear. So cast he himself into the Nile and was drowned in his turn. His kin recovered his body and buried it, together with the Book of Thôth, in the tomb wherein thou standest. I warn thee, therefore, that nought but disaster dire awaiteth thee if thou take the book.'

" 'I will have the book, for all of that,' said Sethenes.

"Then up spake the shade of Nepher-kaphtha. 'Wilt hazard possession of the book on a game of draughts?' said he.

" 'I will,' said Sethenes.

"So they began to play. Now, Sethenes was a mighty player of draughts, whom none could vanquish save only the great King Rhameses himself. When the shade of Nepher-kaphtha saw that he would surely lose, he essayed to win by cheating. He endeavored to move a piece out of turn when Sethenes was not looking.

"After this had happened twice, Sethenes cried: 'Out upon thee, false shade! This is not to be endured. Brother, fetch me my scroll of spells and cantrips.'

"And when his brother Inaros had fetched the scroll, Sethenes laid upon the shade of Nepher-kaphtha, and upon the shades of his wife and son, such an incantation that they were rendered powerless to let him from taking the book.

"Grasping the book, Sethenes read the two mighty spells and ascended unto heaven with a swiftness wonderful to behold. But as Sethenes departed, the shade of Nepher-kaphtha said to the shade of Aoura his wife: 'Not helpless yet am I, little sister. Yon jackanapes will soon be back with a knife and a rod in his hand and a pot of fire on his head, and glad to be rid of the book, I will warrant you.'

"Sethenes returned to his home at Neth-Ammon and took up again his study of magic. Now, however, came upon Sethenes the doom that Nepher-kaphtha and Aoura had foreseen. For he fell in love with a beautiful and evil woman, Taboubo. Such was the blindness of his passion for her that when she commanded him to slay his own children, he did so.

"When this dreadful deed became noised about, King Rhameses heard of the matter and straightway discovered all that had befallen Sethenes. So the king commanded Sethenes, that he should forthwith take back the Book of Thôth to the shade of Nepher-kaphtha, ere worse befell him. And this Sethenes did, with a knife and a rod in his hand and a pot of fire on his head, as the shade of Nepher-kaphtha had commanded him in a dream.

"When Sethenes came to the tomb of Nepher-kaphtha and descended thereinto, he found the three shades awaiting him. As he placed the book back in the sarcophagus, the shade of Nepher-kaphtha laughed and said: 'What said I erst to thee? Next time be not so hasty to spurn good counsel.' And Sethenes went away, and the tomb closed up again, and for aught any man knoweth the Book of Thôth lieth there yet, illuming the interior of the tomb by its silvery rays. So endeth this tale."

Manethôs rolled up the scroll. "That, my friends, is the story of Sethenes Chamois. As you heard, it speaks portentously of mighty spells but tells not how to cast them. I had heard the tale before and supposed the Book of Thôth to be but a figment of a storyteller's mind. After all, a priest of Thôth and temple scribe should know whether such a thing exists, if anybody does. However, when I heard Tis speak so confidently of possessing this book, I held my peace, wondering if I might not be mistaken and the book exist after all.

"Now, as we can see, Tis merely used a copy of this ancient legend as bait to lure us to his lair where he could set his. bullies upon us. Had we not had some good men of their hands amongst us, our friends and colleagues had known nought of our fate, save that we went up the river to Memphis and there disappeared."

I said: "Let's forget about restoring the robe by magic. The problem remains: what shall we do? I don't think Captain Python will be any more pleased by getting back his robe in this condition than by not getting it back at all." To Onas I said: "Stop blubbering, man! We all commit blunders. If you'd atone for yours, help us think our way out of our plight."

There were mutterings about darning and patching, but nobody held out serious hope in that direction. It would take more than a clever housewife's needle to make this tattered bobtail into a kingly garment again.

We reached the first of the sharp-angled bows which the Nile describes between Delta and Athribis. Here we shifted places to relieve Zazamanx at the oars, so that he could watch the channel. I asked Manethôs :

"Are we likely to be pursued, and if so, how far?"

"I know not. It would take time for Tis to recover his wits and set the pursuit in order. And how would his thieves pursue? I have seen no river boats following upon our wake.

"The swiftest way would be by horse; and, even so, the horses would have to be shipped across the river, because of our taking the Phatnitic fork. To get horses, Tis must needs arouse his crony Alkman and persuade that lion in human form to send forth a troop of cavalry. Mmm. Also, we have long since left the Province of the White Wall, where runs Alkman's writ. I doubt that even so forceful a fellow as he would send his horsemen galloping athwart his fellow strategoi's jurisdictions without their leave. To win their permission would consume precious time; nor is it easy, without guidance, to pick one's way amongst the labyrinth of canals that divides up the Delta. By noon today, the gods willing, shall we have two entire provinces on either bank between us and Alkman's land.

"So, provided that we row blisters on our hands and then row them off again today, we should be beyond immediate danger. But think not to settle down quietly anywhere in Egypt for a lengthy stay without being smelt out by Tis's knaves. I know something of how these archthieves work. One will send stabbers and poisoners after those who cross him, or persuade or bribe one of his fellow lords of the underworld, in whose territory a foe has taken refuge, to take up the quarrel on his behalf. Especially"—Manethôs dropped his voice and cast a glance towards Amenardis, who was looking at the robe—"if his unfriend has taken something that the archthief considers his."

"How far can we get today?" I asked.

Manethôs spoke in Egyptian to Horos, then said: "At this rate we should be in Bousiris by dinnertime."

Amenardis, holding up the remains of the robe, spoke: "Chares, no use trying to mend this thing. Must have another one made. Who you know who make things like this?"

Although as a man in love I was not inclined to find fault with Amenardis, I felt a slight stir of resentment at being told what to do in so peremptory a manner. However, an idea struck me with such force as to leave no room for pettier feelings.

"Zeus!" I cried. "The very thing! Azarias lives in Bousiris; he weaves silk; and he's promised to help me whenever I need assistance."

Manethôs looked as if he had tasted something sour. "Must you resort to this Judaean?" he said. "With a little time I could find you an Egyptian weaver who could do the work better."

"One who could weave silk?"

"Belike not; this is a new craft in the land of Chem. Only, I pray, believe the Judaean not when he fills you full of lies about our holy religion."

"What sort of lies?" I asked.

"That we perform abominable rites, that we worship brute beasts instead of true gods, and so forth. Foreigners who have never studied our religion often entertain mistaken notions about it. They hear the myths of Seth's cutting Osiris in pieces, and Isis' causing a serpent to bite Ra, and they suppose that we take all these tales literally."

"Why, don't you?"

"Well, that is true among the lower classes, who must have simple stories, literally believed, to strengthen their faith and to keep their feet on the path of virtue. But, I assure you, not true is it among the better educated, or among the priesthood—save, perhaps, among a small group of literal-minded reactionaries. The rest of us know that these tales are allegories, embodying symbolic truths. The sacred animals symbolize various aspects of divinity. The real Thôth is not a man with the head of an ibis; he is the symbol of cosmic intelligence. Isis and Osiris represent the moon and the sun respectively.

"Know, O Hellene, that the universe is ruled by a single superagency or godhead, whom you call Zeus. This divinity, however, manifests Itself in multiple ways. Ammon is the soul of the godhead; Ra is its head; Phtha is its body. Three in one; unity in triplicily."

"Do you mean that God is one and three at the same time?" said I. "That sounds like a paradox."

"Ah, that only shows you have not studied these mysteries. I will explain this holy trinity." Manethôs brought out his bronze drinking cup, which ho always carried lest he be polluted by using common vessels. "Behold this cup. It is one, yet has it an inner surface, and an outer surface, and the metal which fills the space between the two. Therefore it, like the godhead, has a threefold manifestation ..."

The priest went on in that vein for some time. Puzzled but thoughtful, I left him to take my turn at an oar. We swept again through the Delta, with its hazy air, its rustling palm groves of emerald green, its black wet earth, its creaking swapes, and its humming mosquitoes.

At Leontopolis we stopped to buy food and stretch our legs, presenting an ominous sight in our bloody bandages. At my request, Manethôs took us to the temple of Sechmetis, where the sacred lion and his mate are kept, for I had never seen a live lion. Two lazier-looking cats I never saw, sleeping in the sunshine and not moving save to flick their ears when the flies assailed them. We were told that they were the earthly incarnations of the god Sous and the goddess Tephnis. I suppose the fees the priests collected from us went in part to keep the god and goddess in beefsteaks.

Amenardis squeezed my arm. "Darling," she gurgled, "they beautiful. Someday you get me lion."

"Ye gods, woman, what would you do with a lion?"

"Make him obey."

"I'll wager you could, at that."

On the way back to the Hathor I asked Dikaiarchos: "Did you hear that sermon from Manethôs?"

"I couldn't help hearing, on so small a ship."

"I must be stupid," I said. "I don't doubt that his talk is full of profound hidden truths, but I find it terribly hard to understand."

Dikaiarchos laughed. "I'll tell you a secret, Chares. I cannot understand it, either."

"You, sir?"

"Yes. It may be that we are both stupid, or it may be that there is nothing to understand. It is a good practical rule that, if a man cannot explain himself in terms that any reasonably intelligent listener can comprehend, he doesn't know what he is talking about himself. So you need not feel that your orthodoxy is threatened by these finespun speculations."

"Oh, I'm not really orthodox, sir. Once I tended towards Theodoros' atheism."

"And what happened to change your course?"

"Well, certain of my prayers to Helios, in time of peril, were answered in a way that inclines me to return to the faith of my fathers. Theodoros' viewpoint may be logical, but it leaves one with none but mortal men to take as one's ideals; and men, I find, seldom merit such devotion. An artist needs such an ideal to give him stability and direction. Do you think that foolish of me?"

"Not if your religion really helps you to wisdom and virtue. I manage to be reasonably virtuous without a religion, but then we are not all made alike."

"Are you of Theodoros' opinion, then?" I asked.

"Not quite. I think he may be right about there being no gods or spirits, but I'm not so cocksure about asserting it as a proven fact. You might call my view 'agnosticism'."

"Don't you find it disquieting never to know where you stand?"

Dikaiarchos chuckled. "I am often asked that question. The fact is that I like to live floating in a sea of doctrinal uncertainty. It is a good state of mind for a philosopher. Although most folk find it terrifying, it enables a man of thought more readily to seize upon small bits of authentic truth as they whirl past. The reason is that such a man's perception is not limited by a preconceived credo as one's physical vision is limited by the eye slits of a closed helmet.

"On the other hand, for lives of certain kinds the philosophical equivalent of a closed helmet is an expedient thing to wear, despite its inconveniences, for it softens the bangs and bumps which we frequently take from Fate's cudgel."

Long after dark, exhausted from rowing, we reached Bousiris. Because of the lateness of the hour, I put off my visit to Azarias until the following morning.

The weaver was overjoyed to see me again. When I explained my secret errand and showed him the remains of the robe, he lifted up his hands and invoked his god Iao.

"How lucky I am that I can try to repay you for saving my life!" he cried. "If it can he done, ii shall be done. Come with me, my dear friend."

He took me to his storeroom und pulled down several bolts of undyed silk. He compered them, one after another, with the goods of the robe.

"This is the one," he said. "Feel it. How fortunate that you came not later! For I have an order for this bolt, and in a few days it had been gone. Remain here whilst I fetch my fellow workers."

Soon Azarias came back with men whom he presented as Isakos the dyer, Abramos the goldsmith, and Iesous the tailor. So swiftly flew the talk that I was unable to follow the Judaean dialect. At last Azarias turned to me.

"We can make you a duplicate of the original robe, closely enough like it so that none but an expert could tell them apart, in less than a ten day."

"How much will this cost?"

"It shall cost you nought, save for some gold thread and sequins, which I must needs buy. Nay, nay, my friend, press me not, or I shall be offended. I will take care of all other expenses. Now you must stay for dinner."

"I must first go back to the boat, to tell my comrades of our good fortune. And may I bring a friend to dinner? A lady?"

"Surely, surely, anyone you like."

At the boat I said to Manethôs : "Your home lies less than an hour's sail from here. Why not have Horos run you and Phiôps down to Sebennytos and then return hither for us?"

"I suppose I ought," said the priest with a glum look. Remembering Onas' remark about Manethôs domestic life, I surmised that he would have deferred his homecoming if he could have thought of an excuse. "Ere I go, O Chares, let me warn you against Judaean tricks! This fellow may be as virtuous as he pretends, but I would not trust one of them."

At dinner the weaver asked many questions about our adventures. I answered guardedly, not wishing to give away news that might help to put Tis on our track. Among other things he asked:

"Was it the Egyptian priest who betrayed you into the hands of your foes? It is what I should have expected of a slave of one of those false beast gods."

"No, on the contrary, Manethôs rendered us invaluable services."

"Heach!" he said. "You wait; he will forelay you yet. And then, say not that Azarias ben-Moses failed to warn you."

I said: "Be that as it may, he told me an interesting history of your people's having once conquered his and later being driven out."

"What pack of lies is this? Tell me!"

I repeated, as well as I could, Manethôs ' tale of the conquests of Egypt by the Hyksos. As I neared the end, I could see that Azarias was hard pressed to contain his emotions. He flushed, bounced in his seat, and muttered: "Lies! Lies!"

When I finished, he burst out: "Never in my life have I heard such an amass of slanderous falsehoods! I call on Iao to witness!" He waved his fists above his head. "It is false! It is a vile calumny! It is the utter opposite of the truth! Cursed be they who give currency to such a lying tale!

"Let me tell you what really happened. There was a Judaean named Ioseph, who was carried off to Egypt as a slave ..."

It transpired that this Ioseph was thrown into jail as .a result of trouble with his master's wife. Then, by several strokes of improbably good luck, he was freed and raised to the post of king's minister as a reward for interpreting the Egyptian king's dreams. In this exalted position he devised a scheme by which the king was enabled, during a famine, to get title to all the land in Egypt, save only that belonging to the temples. The grateful king permitted Ioseph to invite in his fellow tribesmen, who settled in Egypt. As in Manethôs ' story, the Judaeans were shepherds, as many of them are to this day.

In time these shepherds so waxed in power and number that the Egyptians began to fear that so vigorous and warlike a folk would seize the mastery of the land and rule the Egyptians as slaves. So the king, a successor to the one who had befriended Ioseph, enslaved and persecuted the Judaeans, until a Judaean prophet and politician named Moses arose to their leadership. This Moses led them to revolt and flee across the Arabian wastes to Judaea.

In the meantime other tribes had occupied the land vacated by the Judaeans. The latter, however, exterminated the other tribes with great and bloody slaughters and re-occupied their former homeland, as their god directed them to do.

"And that is the absolute, literal truth," said Azarias, waving his forefinger under my nose. "Bascas! Fetch the sacred scroll of the Five Books to show our guest."

Azarias' eldest son went out and quickly returned with an embroidered cloth container, from which Azarias took a small scroll.

"Here, do you see?" said Azarias, unrolling the scroll and pointing to the lines of Judaean writing, which of course meant nothing to me. "These are the words of the lord Iao himself, so there is no question about their truth. Would that you were here longer, that I might convert you to the true religion! Of course you would have to be circumcised and give up your iniquitous trade of making graven images, but those are minor matters compared to the grace of the one true God.

"That fantastical tale about the Shepherd kings is the sort of libel those vile beast worshipers would devise," he continued, rolling up his scroll. Then he ranted on for an hour about the depravities of the Egyptian priesthood. Nothing that Amenardis or I could say diverted him from this subject.

Azarias, I decided, was a good man. He was, in Homer's words, a friend to human race, and most of the time was not bad company. Hut when he embarked upon this particular subject, he could be the biggest bore in the land of Chem.

I took my leave early, not only to escape the tirade but also to be alone with Amenardis. Onas had taken space at Kenamon's inn, so that Amenardis could better nurse poor Berosos, who suffered a fever from his wounds. My sweetling proved a vigorous and vigilant nurse who stood for no nonsense from her patient. For her and myself I obtained a private room. Onas himself went off to visit his kin.

There was little to do while waiting for Azarias and his fellow tradesmen to finish their copy of the robe. Twice a day I went to their houses to see how the work progressed; but to stand over a craftsman and breathe down his neck makes him nervous and causes bad work. I know.

On the morning of the third day after we reached Bousiris, Amenardis, Dikaiarchos, and I were lounging on the waterfront and watching the Nile flow past. I repeated to Dikaiarchos the story I had from Azarias about the Egyptian captivity of the Judaeans.

"Now here," said I, "we have two histories about the same set of peoples, flatly contradicting each other. Which should I believe? It's no use appealing to ancient records, because each disputant has his own records, and the two sets of writings disagree.'"

Dikaiarchos yawned. "I suppose one might settle the question by twenty or thirty years of independent historical research," he said. "Had I nothing more urgent to do, I could settle down in Egypt, learn to read this writing that uses snakes and owls for letters, and compose my own history. In fact, both the stories you heard are probably wrong, or at least much distorted. That is the way with historical traditions; they suffer sea changes in the handing down.

"There are, you will observe, some curious features of these stories. For instance, why should it take the Judaeans forty years to cross the land of Sinai? According to all the geographers, whereas this peninsula is certainly hot, barren, and rocky, it is no larger than the Peloponnesos, and so could be traversed in a ten-day or two, even afoot."

I said: "If the Judaeans' forebears were truly a race of blind, crippled, and leprous beggars, as in Manethôs' tale, it might take them forty years."

"Ah, but if they were, they could never have escaped the pursuit of the Egyptian king! No, what we have here are probably a few scraps of authentic fact, boiled up with a lot of myth and legend and patriotic fiction. And how, in this stew, shall we tell the false from the true? The answer is: We cannot."

"Whatever be the truth," said I, "all this happened long ago. So why should Manethôs and Azarias hate each other so, despite the fact that neither really knows the other? Each, taken by himself, is a pretty fine fellow. Yet each of them snarls like an angry dog at the mere mention of the other."

"You cannot expect men to be rational about national enmities," said Dikaiarchos. "As everyone knows, people like to have friends, but they also like to have enemies. A hereditary foe is a useful thing to have. It gives you somebody to feel superior to; it provides a handy target for all the furies and hatreds which you have boiling around inside you but which you dare not direct at those nearer you. So, if you truly convinced either one of our friends that the other was really a good, honest, and kindly man, you would do him no service, for you would rob him of his dearly cherished enmity."

"Do you think such enmities a good thing, then?"

"Herakles, no! They cause all the hideous massacres and cruelties and destructions that I have set forth in my book. I merely state that this is how most men seem to be made, and I see no easy way of changing them. Even the godlike Platon, when he imagined his ideal states, assumed that they would be at intermittent war with their neighbors, and he therefore bestowed upon them strength in arms enough to defeat all comers. Of course he did not live to see such mighty captains in the field as Alexander and Demetrios. If he had, he might not have been so sure that his little city-states could be defended by virtuous valor alone."

"We're testing that theory in Rhodes right now," I said. "Come around in another year and see how we made out— Papai! Here's Manethôs again."

The lean priest rode up on the back of one of the big white Egyptian asses. "Rejoice, O Chares!" he said, dismounting. "At my temple I found news which so nearly touches you that I thought it my duty to warn you."

"My dear Manethôs!" I said, springing up to take the ass's bridle. "Tell me, by all means. Could I first get you something to wash the dust of the journey from your throat? Pray excuse us, O Dikaiarchos."

Manethôs let me steer him to a tavern and pour beer into his private bronze cup. When he had quenched his thirst, he whispered:

"Word has come to my temple of the battle in the bull-burial chamber. It seems that we left two men dead and one gravely wounded, though Tis has no worse than a pigeon's egg on the side of his skull. Moreover, Tis, with Alkman's help, has dispatched a band of hardy rogues in a rowing barge to slay you and your comrades."

"How has word come so quickly, in such detail?" I asked.

"We have our methods," murmured Manethôs .

"Go howl! Is it by familiar spirits, or tame falcons, or that extrasensory perception of which Dikaiarchos speaks?"

Manethôs only smiled and went on. "Now, the cult of Thôth is not the only one to learn of these events. Some busybody of a bat whispered the tale in the ear of a priest of the temple of Osiris at Memphis. This was the first that this exalted college knew that Tis had been using one of their sacred sarcophagi as a locker for his loot. A shocking sacrilege, of course." Manethôs tried without complete success to suppress a smile.

"Anyway," he went on, "the priests of Osiris, with unseemly haste, knocked down the brick wall that parts the chamber from the corridor leading up into the temple. They found the secret door in the taurine coffin, but, lacking the key, they could not open it, nor would it yield to blows and bumps. They also found and explored the tunnels excavated by Tis.

"In fact, they encountered Tis and his rogues therein. I take it that there was a battle in the dark, with heads broken and knives fleshed. In the end Tis's band fled back to his house and barricaded the door into his bedroom, even as we did when they pursued us. Then the priests carried stone and rubble into the tunnels to block them and bricked up the secret entrance to the chamber.

"Then appealed Tis to his crony Alkman to compel the priests to vacate the bull-burial chamber whilst he took away his loot. So the strategos came clanking up to the temple with a score of soldiers. But the high priest refused them admittance. Nay more, he even defied this mighty man, averring that Alkman's jurisdiction, by express command of King Ptolemaios, did not extend one digit into the temenos, and that if he forced his way in he should rue it. This he said, with his temple guards around him, trying to look fierce behind their wicker shields and caps of crocodile; but not, I do fear, presenting too martial an array compared to Alkman's bronze-blanking hoplitai.

"Further, the high priest threatened Alkman with assorted curses and nocturnal ghostly visitations. This the strategos, being a superstitious wight for all his ferocity, took much to heart.

"Although he desisted from trying to invade the temenos, Alkman did demand to enter the chamber through the tunnels to remove the loot, which, he said, was governmental property. Not so, said the high priest; it belonged to great Osiris, having been deposited under his holy ground. Much talk brought no solution to this impasse. The upshot was that, whereas Alkman has posted soldiers at the entrances to the tunnels and all around the temenos of Osiris, lest the priests smuggle out Tis's loot, the priests keep watches of temple guards in the bull-burial chamber, lest Alkman or Tis again gain access thereto. And all the while the sarcophagus cannot be opened save by Tis's key, or by boring through a cubit of granite, which were a tedious task.

"Withal, the several parties to this contention quake in terror lest news of their wrangle come to the ears of the king, who would then seize the stuff for himself. Were it not that our knowledge of the matter were like to get us all murdered, I should find it a most risible affair."

"Suppose," I said, "that Alkman did lay hands upon the loot. Would he then return it to Tis?"

"That know I not, though I doubt it. If the imbroglio became noised abroad, Alkman were more likely to turn on Tis and slay him quickly, ere his dealings with the arch-thief become known to the king. Then he would plead: Why, certes, he had known Tis, but only as an honest merchant. Never dreamt he that so foul a soul underlay so fair a seeming! On the other hand, if Tis's knaves succeed in slaying us, Alkman might well continue his profitable partnership with this villain, who is now the undisputed lord of the criminal classes of the Province of the White Wall."

Amenardis burst out: "Amnion-Ra! How can you talk so calmly about being killed?"

"Faith in the immortality of the soul, madam," said Manethôs .

"Me, I no want to be killed, soul or no soul. We must get to the sea, Chares, right away. You order Horos to take us down river tonight!"

"My dear, that's impossible," I said. "We must wait for the Judaeans to finish the robe. And please keep your voice down."

"Seth eat up your robe! My life more important. You promise me you take care of me and take me to Rhodes. All right, do this. You not getting anywhere, sitting in Bousiris waiting for throat to be cut."

"Look, dearest. In the first place, I'm a soldier carrying out an order. In the second, when we get to Tamiathis, we're going next to Alexandria. I shall have to make some special arrangement for you to follow on a merchantman, as my captain would never let me bring a woman aboard the trireme."

"Why you not put me on merchant ship for Rhodes? Then I wait for you there."

"Because it's the end of the sailing season, and we shan't find any merchantmen sailing for Rhodes for months to come."

. "Why not?" she demanded.

"Because we have deadly winter storms on the Inner Sea, and even when the sea is calm, how can a ship find its way over open waters when clouds veil the sun and the stars? Moreover, no ordinary merchantman will be sailing to a city under siege."

She frowned. "I cannot go to Rhodes on merchant ship because none sail until war and winter are over. I cannot go on this warship because captain not allow women. How you expect me to go? Ride on back of fish?"

"Well—ah—darling, to tell the truth, I hadn't thought enough about the matter when I urged you to come. What I can do I will. If you can't get to Rhodes now, I'll see you comfortably settled in Alexandria until the war is over. Then I'll send for you."

Amenardis struck the table with a force that made the beer dance in our mugs. "Oh, you silly boy! You stupid little fool! I put my life in your hands; what happen? 'We cannot do this,' you say; 'we cannot do that; I sorry I did not think sooner; but anyway I cannot do what I promise.' Think you I sit in Alexandria for maybe year, two year, with no money, no man, no nothing, waiting to hear from you? Not knowing if you dead or living with some other girl?"

"Now look here, by Zeus the Savior, that's enough!" I said, angry because there was more truth in her words than I liked to admit.

"Not enough at all. You think you stay in Alexandria safely while Tis live? Ha! You even more big fool than I thought. He send man, stick knife through your rotten, lying heart! And I happy! I laugh!"

"Hold your tongue, hussy!"

Amenardis said: "I go take care of Berosos. He have more sense with fever than you without!" She slammed out of the inn.

Manethôs murmured: "One would think you an old married couple."

I sat down, breathing hard and trembling. After a few deep draughts of beer I got myself under control. I said:

"I see I've been much too casual about our pursuers."

"Love, no doubt," said Manethôs . "In that state even the wise Thôth would lose his judgment."

"Be that as it may, what shall we do about this barge-load of ready-for-aughts? Kenamon would never let us turn his inn into a fortress. If I were Tis, I should have obtained a description of the Hathor and passed it on to my villains to assist their search. Perhaps we ought to hide or disguise the boat."

"The best place to hide it were an irrigation canal," said Manethôs . "I would choose that which opens into the Nile near Sebennytos. However, I have a better proposal to make, not conflicting with the first."

"What's that?"

"That you and your comrades come down to Sebennytos and hide in the pilgrims' chambers at the temple of Thôth until the robe be ready."

"Would that be allowed?"

"Aye. I have already consulted with my high priest, the holy Thothises. Besides, you told me that General Thorax gave you no reason to expect his help when erst you called upon him here, whereas General Neon might afford you at least the pretense of protection."

"I'm tempted," I said. "But why should your high priest trouble himself on our behalf?"

"Partly because I, his favorite nephew, asked him; and partly to spite those high and mighty hierophants in the temple of Memphite Osiris, who would like nought better than for you to be quietly slain so that they could strike a secret bargain with Alkman for division of Tis's loot."

Thus Manethôs revealed that, despite his lofty theological talk, the priesthoods of Egypt were riven by jealousies and intrigues like those in which other men engage. I said:

"I'm most grateful. But we had better move secretly. We'll rouse Kenamon at midnight and then slip down the river."

"I will meet you on the waterfront at Sebennytos," said Manethôs . We clasped hands on it, and the priest added, with a wistful smile: "Do you know, O Chares, that I seem to have grown talents for intrigue and adventure that I never suspected in myself? Almost you make me regret my holy vows!"

After dinner I found Amenardis in our room. We had a tearful and intense reconciliation. When I had proved my passion for her, I told her of the impending move. At once she began to tell me what to do.

"Must tell Judaean weaver where you go," she said. "Then tell Kenamon you go to Boubastis or Sais, so thieves go the wrong way looking for you. Tell Horos—"

"Now, darling, please, I'm running this expedition!"

"You no like advice? Remember what happen to Sethenes Chamois when he not take good advice!"

"When I want advice, I ask for it."

Perhaps this was unwisely petty of me, for some of Amenardis' suggestions were shrewd and, moreover, were things that I should not have thought of myself. Her forward and positive manner, however, made it hard for a Hellene, used to a becoming meekness in his women, to accept her counsels gracefully.

Berosos groaned when awakened. "Go away! I will not move this night for all the gold of Persepolis. A poor invalid hovering on the brink of death am I. Besides, the stars foretell disaster should I stir forth."

"To the crows with your stars!" I said. "You'll be over the brink of death for sure, if Tis's ready-for-aughts catch you here after we have gone."

"Blaspheme not the divine stars. Foretold they not truly the scathe that fell upon me in Tis's crypt? Three ghastly wounds have I to prove that they lied not."

"The reason you were nicked is that you had, against my orders, left your sword behind. Now get up or I'll empty this over you."

"Istar! Do not so! I come."

Uncle Thothises, high priest of Thôth at Sebennytos, was a large fat man who, I suspected, did not take the ascetic rules of Egyptian priestly diet too much to heart. Over a bountiful lunch he explained:

"This morn, just after Ra's arrows had put to flight the demon dark, a fast twenty-oared barge stopped at Bousiris. Men went ashore and asked for news of a band of adventurers under command of a small but handsome Rhodian with curly black hair. Not finding such persons, they took to the river again."

"Ea!" said I. "They didn't miss us by much. Where are they now?"

Thothises shrugged his well-padded shoulders. "Would that we knew. For aught that my sources can say, they might have been snatched up into heaven to ride the solar ship in the company of the deathless gods—though, from what I know of these knaves, their fate in the next world is likely to be somewhat different."

I said: "Perhaps I should ask the strategos to post a few soldiers near the temple, in case of a sudden onslaught. Would that suit you, sir?"

Thothises gave me a broad, bland smile. "Well thought of, my son. But think a little further. As you are a stranger in our city, your entrance into the chambers of General Neon might well be noted in quarters where it would do you no good. Let me send my nephew with a bottle of wine wherewith to sweeten Neon before swallowing, as physicians do their potions."

"Sir, words cannot express my gratitude. If there is anything I can do for you, without disloyalty to my city, name it. Although our flights and fights have been costly, I think I could squeeze a modest offering to your temple out of the funds my captain entrusted to me—"

Thothises held up a hand. "Let it not disturb you, my son. Ere you depart, you shall know of some valued service that you and no other can perform for us."

Days dragged by while we durst not venture forth from our cells. Some played checkers while others plumbed the mysteries of Egyptian theology. Dikaiarchos filled sheets of papyrus with notes on his travels.

I modeled statuettes of brick clay: figures in poses of frantic action, fighting with knives as I had seen men fight in the bull-burial chamber. I suppose the priests threw them all out after we had gone, so alien were they to the spirit of Egyptian art; although, baked and painted, they would not have made bad household ornaments.

The temple servants served us excellent meals—the Egyptians are superior cooks—in cheap earthenware dishes and cups. These, I learnt, they carefully broke after each repast, lest they be polluted by our foreign touch.

During this time I missed Amenardis, who was housed in another part of the structure. The priests took care to keep us apart, because Egyptians forbid sexual intercourse in temples, deeming it a pollution.

As, however, I yearned for Amenardis' deep-curved, tawny body with a lust that drove me frantic, I began to make discreet inquiries in hope of finding somebody among the servants of Thôth who could be cajoled or bribed into arranging a tryst. Here, however, I found my ignorance of the Egyptian language a hopeless handicap. The priests, with most of whom I could converse, pretended with bland smiles not to know what I was hinting at; whereas the temple servitors of low degree, such as Phiôps the handyman, could not understand a word I said.

Then Manethôs came to me with that look on his face as if he had been sucking a citron. "Your Judaean friend is here," he said. "With the robe?"

"He bears a bundle. Were I you, I would scrutinize it with utmost care ere letting him go."

That proved unnecessary, for Azarias, proud of his fellow craftsmen's workmanship, unfolded the robe himself. And indeed it was a splendid piece of work.

"Here," he said, handing me a small and tattered role of silk, "is what remains of the original garment. We snipped off the gold thread and sequins to use on the new robe. Were I you, I would either destroy this remnant or hide it with such care that none should see it and ask embarrassing questions."

"Sir," I said, "you have more than repaid our small service to you. You have saved, if not our lives, at least our careers. If ever you come to Rhodes, ask what you will of me."

With much expression of eternal friendship and mutual esteem, we parted. As I came back into the temenos—for Azarias would not put foot on what he deemed unholy ground—Manethôs said:

"Will it suffice?"

"I'm sure of it. If the original, intact, were compared with the substitute, one could see differences. But if we hold our tongues, Python won't be any the wiser."

"Are you off for Tamiathis?"

"As soon as I can gather my people."

"Will you stop to see my uncle Thothises ere you go?"

The fat high priest, sprawled in a huge chair, said: "O Chares, two things have I to say ere we part. One is that the twenty-oared barge has been seen on the lower parts of the river, where the Province of the Ibis lies on the eastern bank. Meseems they lurk to ambush you. Down there in the swamps it were easy to hide behind a clump of reeds, whence one can see a long stretch of river, and then sally forth when the prey appears."

"What should we do? They have us much outnumbered and outweighed. They could cut us in two by ramming and let the crocodiles finish off the swimmers."

"Three and a half leagues below Sebennytos, past Iseion, the Mendesic branch of the Nile parts from the Phatnitic branch and wends eastward into Lake Tanis. Doubtless your boatman knows it. You could cross Lake Tanis, issue into the sea by the Mendesic mouth, sail west a few leagues to the Phatnitic mouth, and then sail up the river to Tamiathis. Though roundabout, this seems the readiest way to avoid your foes."

I foresaw a battle with Horos over the extra money he would demand, but I said: "An excellent suggestion, sir. And your other matter?"

"I should like Manethôs to go with you to Tamiathis. Thence he will find commercial transportation to Alexandria."

"Delighted! But may I ask why?"

"He has two missions. First, to save his life, which I think will be in less danger from Tis's ruffians at Ptolemaios' court than here. Second, to open direct negotiations between the king and the priesthoods of Thôth, instead of our being compelled, as now, to deal with the Ptolemaios through the Osirians."

"I'll do my best to get him to his destination safely— though your nephew seems a young man well able to take care of himself. Would that the gods enabled me to make a more adequate return to you for the debt of gratitude that Rhodes and I owe you!"

Thothises smiled broadly. "You have your share of the celebrated eloquence of Rhodes, I see. Well, your gods have heard your prayer. There is something more you can do."

"Yes, sir?"

"At royal courts all goes by favor and machination. You will reach Alexandria first, and when Manethôs comes, you should be well acquainted. Make the introductions and recommendations that shall further our holy aims, and we shall be well repaid."