Six for Gold

Chapter Thirty-three

Cornelia pulled off her tunic and hung it on a peg. The bath was little more than a roofless cubicle with a slab of limestone in one corner. Slabs of the red sandstone that showed up all over the oasis protected plastered walls to waist height.

It wasn’t much better than bathing in the Nile, Cornelia thought, but at least she didn’t have to share it with passing crocodiles. The only wildlife visible inhabited eroded hieroglyphs in the sandstone-a flock of geese, a falcon, a snake or two. She bent to examine the opening where water drained outside. No scorpions lurked there.

She stepped up onto the slab, lifted the large jug she carried, and let water trickle down over her shoulders. The limestone felt hot against her soles, the water tepid.

There was no way to escape the heat. At least the water sluiced away the sand that accumulated on her skin, finding its way to the corners of her eyes and the back of her neck. She could feel the fine grit when she ran a hand along her arm.

When the jug was empty she stretched her hands up over her head, reaching toward the brilliant blue square of the sky. She shifted her feet, as if the motionless stone beneath them was the back of one of the bulls she had ridden in her days with the troupe.

She wondered if she would ever do that again.

Possibly not. While she was still slim and well muscled, her reflexes were becoming slower.

She was soon dry and reluctantly slipped back into her clothing and went into the house.

She stopped abruptly.

Thorikos scrambled up from his seat. “I can see you’re angry, Cornelia, but spare me the scorpions!”

“Scorpions? How do you know about them?”

“Well, I peeked in that jar in the corner. I assure you I knocked quite loudly before coming in, and there didn’t seem to be anyone here and-”

“So you invited yourself to enter and looked around?”

Thorikos looked ashamed. “I was curious to see what it was like. I’ve been inside Melios’ home, but I haven’t been inside an ordinary house, you see, and…”

“It’s not exactly one of the wonders of the world!”

“Oh, that’s true, but I’m most interested in learning how other people live.”

“That’s why you visited us, to see the inside of the house?”

“Actually, I was just passing by and thought I would ask if there was anything I could be of assistance with…” Thorikos was flustered.

“And perhaps get a glimpse of the house as well? It’s a long walk from the pilgrim camp and rather out of your way,” Cornelia pointed out.

“I went to visit Melios but he had a visitor. I thought it best not to wait.”

Cornelia gave Thorikos a questioning look.

“Melios was having words with someone. By the tenor of the conversation, I doubt he’d be in the mood for visitors.”

“Who was it, Thorikos?”

“It was that charioteer fellow. I heard racing mentioned. They sounded like a couple of partisans arguing the merits of their respective factions. Exactly what was being said I couldn’t say.”

Thorikos shifted his feet. “I wonder if you can help me, Cornelia? It’s about my health. Ever since I set foot in Egypt I’ve been plagued with the most dreadful headaches. I happened to mention them to Hapymen. Would you believe it, it seems he’s very knowledgeable about these matters?”

“I’m sure he didn’t refer you to me for help.”

“It’s about the remedy he suggested. He said the only certain cure was to rub my head with a concoction made of a fried mixture of fish and, I regret to say, a cat.”

“That surprises me,” Cornelia admitted. “Many Egyptians still consider it a sacred animal.”

Thorikos looked mournful. “Indeed. You would not believe the difficulty I had, trying to buy a suitable cat today. What’s worse, while the settlement was swarming with them when we arrived, most of the nasty things appear to have gone into hiding. I’ve not been able to catch one of the few roaming about either, despite no lack of trying.”

“Yes, I can see the scratches on your hands. At least the fish will be easier to obtain.”

“Alas, not so. The sellers in the market are as sly as the cats. They think they can name their own price.”

“They may do so, but won’t necessarily obtain it. Obviously word’s got around of your quest and you’ve been here long enough to be known by sight. Naturally it will cost you more to purchase fish than the amount anyone else in the settlement will be asked to pay.”

“Exactly so. Still, provided it is not too outrageous I can afford to buy a fish. Getting a cat is the problem. I trust this will not offend you, but I glanced in one or two rooms and happened to see a cat mummy. I was wondering if I could purchase it?”

Cornelia curbed her tongue. Thorikos did look extremely unwell. “I am afraid Cheops is not for sale. I must say I’ve never heard of such a remedy.”

“Is it possible Hapymen was having a jest at my expense? Perhaps I misunderstood my instructions? He has such a thick accent.”

Cornelia laughed. “Of course! Could it be he didn’t say you needed to anoint yourself with a mixture of fried cat and fish but rather meant cooked catfish?”

Thorikos stared in amazement. “Catfish? I never thought of that!”

“No matter. Both you and the local feline population would be better served if you treat your headaches with an infusion of willow or even a poppy potion. And here’s another suggestion.”

“What is that, Cornelia?”

“Don’t creep into people’s houses unannounced. It may be bad for your health.”

***

John and Peter stopped in front of the weird agglomeration of stone, mud, and marble that stretched back into the rubble at the base of the Rock of the Snake. Peter gaped at the limbs of broken statues that formed the doorway, but before John could rap on the door Dedi stuck his sallow, bristly face into the sunlight.

Dedi gazed at his visitors and his fish-like mouth formed a smile that showed off his wildly askew teeth. “Lord Chamberlain, I’m pleased to see you, and your servant too! Tell me, has Melios been scared to his senses by the flying demon I sent?”

“I cannot say,” John replied.

Dedi pursed his mouth in annoyance. “Melios should consider the situation more closely, excellency. A wise man would have long since given up claims to my land. Never mind. Come inside.”

As had been the case during John’s initial visit, they sat in the first room of the tunnel-like house.

“I fear I can only offer you beer today,” Dedi apologized.

Peter took the proffered cup, sampled its contents, and grimaced.

John took a sip. “You’d get used to it in time, Peter. I did. It was only after I reached Constantinople I began to drink Egyptian wine.”

“What is it you want to see me about, Lord Chamberlain?”

“The flaming demon. I believe you just admitted you were responsible?”

“Admitted? I am proud to say I was responsible. It was my final warning to Melios. If he does not accede to my wishes I will be forced to fill the sky with a hundred fiery demons. No, a thousand! And worse besides! Much, much worse!”

The magician’s voice rose in anger. “This settlement belongs to Mehen! His shrine was here long before Melios’ feeble god arrived on the scene!”

John slapped several burnt feathers on the table. “It appears that Egyptian demons have plumage remarkably resembling that of hawks.”

Dedi snatched the feathers away. “What vile trap is this?”

“It’s a common magician’s trick,” John replied.

“Melios is trying to discredit me. Any fool could release a burning bird!” Dedi picked up a feather and waved it at his visitors. “Do you think I don’t have the power I claim? I’ll show you soon enough!”

He muttered what sounded suspiciously like gibberish, then cried out, “Mehen, take this cursed thing away!”

He clapped his hands together. When he drew them apart, the feather was gone.

“It’s up your sleeve,” John remarked. “You’re dexterous, I’ll give you that. If you were thinking of removing it from Peter’s ear, don’t bother.”

Peter clapped his hands to his ears, looking terrified.

“It’s only sleight of hand, Peter,” John told him.

Dedi slumped back down onto his stool. “You’re shrewd, Lord Chamberlain. I can see I will have to be honest with you.” The magician took a long, noisy slurp from his cup. “You have been to the shrine above us. You have looked upon the maze.”

“The entrance to the maze,” John corrected him.

“As you say. You will agree that this is an ancient place, the source of enormous forces?”

“If you mean the talking snake, it’s obvious it has a dried monkey’s head fitted with a wig.”

“I won’t deny that I sometimes resort to illusions. In the great city you come from there are fabulous churches, so I am told. Their ceilings and walls appear to be populated by saints and angels, their space ablaze with gold and gems and colored marbles. In a word, these incredible structures might have come straight from the hand of the Lord himself. But, in fact, they were erected by the emperor to demonstrate heavenly beauty and power in a way that the populace can understand.”

“You are saying you perform your tricks to demonstrate the power of Mehen?”

“That’s right. And why not? Can you imagine the destruction if a real demon descended on Mehenopolis?”

Dedi waved his hands and the burnt feather materialized, an arm’s breadth above the table, and floated gently downwards. Peter quickly drew his cup away.

“Remember,” Dedi continued, “Mehen works through the appointed guardian of his shrine.”

“By which you mean yourself? How were you appointed to such high office?”

“Mehen called me, Lord Chamberlain. Years ago I was a traveling magician, wandering about performing for a few coins.”

“Or frightening ignorant people enough so they’d give you more than a few if only you’d be on your way?”

Dedi reddened with anger, but ignored the comment. “Then something insisted to me that I travel along the Nile. I realized I was being drawn somewhere, as inexorably as the waters of great rivers are attracted to the sea. When I arrived here I camped just outside Melios’ estate, undecided as to whether I should continue on my journey. Ah! But then I awoke in the gray light before dawn next day with a heavy weight on my chest. It was a coiled snake, the very one you saw a few nights ago.”

The magician waved an excited hand. “Then, once I learnt the ruined temple was dedicated to Mehen, I immediately knew I had been sent a sign and that this was where I was meant to be.”

“So why hasn’t Mehen sent an enormous snake after Melios?” John asked pointedly.

“Doubt what I say at your own risk, Lord Chamberlain. The power of Mehen is everywhere in this place. There isn’t a structure in the oasis that doesn’t contain brick or stone from the temple ruins, all of them imbued with the Snake God’s power.”

John noticed Peter staring uneasily at the feather on the floor. “I gather the pilgrim business is lucrative, Dedi. Hardly surprising, is it, with a constant stream of travelers in need of shelter, making offerings, buying supplies and mementos. Naturally you would make such claims.”

“I can see you don’t believe me. Then consider Zebulon. Why does he never win that game he plays? It’s because of his religious beliefs and his blasphemous use of Mehen’s likeness, of course!”

John stood up. “You keep talking about Mehen and his power, Dedi. What I see are shabby illusions any fumbling magician could perform, all of them easily explained. You may be able to mislead many, but-”

Dedi leapt up, as if intending to restrain John from leaving. “You question my powers? Well, why haven’t you been able to explain why Melios’ sheep cut its own throat?”

Peter looked horrified. To hear his master addressed in such an insulting fashion!

“It was just another trick, Dedi.” John’s tone was withering.

“You know it wasn’t!” Dedi waved his hands frantically. “You’re mocking me! Very well, I’ll prove my powers beyond any doubt. I’ll force another sheep to kill itself.”

John took a step toward the doorway. “That’s hardly necessary, Dedi. As I said-”

“I must insist, Lord Chamberlain, if that is what it will take to convince you!”

John sighed. “Very well, then. It shall be arranged as you wish.”