Pythagoras continued talking as they walked.
“Croton has another three gymnasiums as well as this one, which was given to the community. The unique thing about ours is that a less violent form of hand-to-hand combat is practiced here, and we use more facilities than usual for our meetings and teachings. Apart from that, you’ll find it contains more or less the same as all the others: storage facilities, baths, changing rooms, rooms for oiling the body, and a long portico around the walls.”
As they drew closer to the enormous construction, Akenon forgot what he had intended to talk about with Pythagoras. The importance that the Greeks gave to athletic activity and bodily harmony was astonishing to him—and to all non-Greeks. He had some idea of what was involved from the motifs that often decorated Greek ceramics and other objects but, even so, the gymnasium was no less fascinating.
They passed under the external colonnade, went through a door, and entered the arena. Under the morning sun, dozens of young men were exercising on perfectly smooth ground. Four of them began running at top speed on the instruction of a starter, and disappeared at the far end of the enclosure, where the track continued beyond the walls. A few yards from Akenon, a naked man with sculpted muscles, repeated the same movement over and over again. He rotated on one leg, his body in a crouch. In one outstretched hand he held a bronze discus. When the rotation was finished he made as if to throw the discus, and then started the exercise over again.
“He’s a discus thrower,” Pythagoras explained.
A little farther away, several young men were performing a strange dance. Their movements were vigorous and simulated actions such as fighting or running. They kept time to a zither played by a master. The result was surprisingly harmonious.
“What are they doing?” asked Akenon, turning to Pythagoras.
“Preparing their mind and body for the teachings. Exercise properly done strengthens the body, making it agile and flexible, but it also clears the mind, provides internal balance, and calms the spirit. I thought it might remind you of something.”
Akenon observed more closely. He was sure it was the first time he had ever seen something like that, and shook his head.
“What you are looking at,” the master continued, “is a mixture of traditional Doric dances and certain exercises I learned during my training as a priest in Egypt. In your temples, some indoor rituals include dances, though they’re different from these.” He smiled at Akenon. “While you’re with us you can join our exercise routines. They’re excellent for your health.”
Akenon raised an eyebrow skeptically. The youths were now combining jumps with difficult somersaults.
“I think if I tried imitating them it might be detrimental to my health.”
Just then, he remembered what it was he wanted to discuss with Pythagoras, and glanced around cautiously. Evander and Hippocreon were about thirty steps behind them, conversing as they drew nearer. He had to be quick.
“This morning I spoke to Orestes. Among other things I didn’t understand, he made reference to something Aristomachus also mentioned last night: the tetraktys. I asked him to explain what it is, and to clarify other terms he used. But he answered that he couldn’t talk about that, saying there was some kind of secret oath surrounding the core of your doctrine. And he added that no one will talk to me about it. As you can appreciate, this presents a problem if I’m to make headway with my investigation.”
Pythagoras nodded gravely, saying nothing while he pondered this. Akenon glanced behind him. Evander and Hippocreon had stopped some twenty yards away, giving them space to talk in private.
“I can’t ask them to reveal all the secrets,” replied Pythagoras, “and I’m afraid you’ll probably have more questions than I’ll be able to answer. I normally spend half my time outside Croton, in other communities, and even when I’m in Croton I won’t always be able to assist you. As well as the activities relating directly to the School, I have to deal with numerous embassies, attend Council meetings…”
He stroked his beard and continued speaking, more to himself than to Akenon.
“I understand that for your investigation you’ll have to be involved in some of the internal workings of the School. You need someone who has reached the level of master, and won’t have to come to me every time you need a new explanation. On the other hand, no disciple, however close to me may be, can be considered free of suspicion.” He paused briefly. “Yes, I can’t see any other solution.”
An enigmatic smile spread across his lips, and he uttered the name of the person he would assign to Akenon.
CHAPTER 23
April 19th, 510 B.C.
Boreas was hiding in the palace stables.
One of the slaves visited him periodically to keep him informed, but for now he had no option but to remain hidden.
His master’s orders had been emphatic.
The day before, when he had entered Glaucus’ bedroom, the master had addressed him tearfully.
“Boreas, my faithful Boreas, stay with me during my grief, all of you stay with me because tragedy has befallen us without mercy.”
The obese Sybarite opened his arms, symbolically embracing all who were present in his expansive gesture. His room was large, but unpleasantly hot and humid because of the twenty people in it that included guards, secretaries, and slaves. The air was stale and smelled of sickness.
“Be my friends, my brothers, now more than ever, since misfortune unites us all.”
His listeners looked at each other, ill at ease. Glaucus was usually cold and stern, but now he was behaving like a wailing mourner.
“What drove me mad? What could have robbed me of my senses to such a degree that I ordered the purest being on earth to be punished?” His words weren’t directed more at himself than at his audience. “Ah!” he suddenly roared. “I know all too well.” His eyes narrowed to thin slits of hatred and rage, and his gaze jumped quickly from one person to the next. “It was that cursed Akenon. He made me think that not only had the corrupter Thessalus betrayed me, but my beloved Yaco, my innocent child, as well.”
Most of the people in the room were trying hard to appear calm, but the pallor of their faces betrayed them. They feared that the situation could descend into a renewed orgy of violence. Although Glaucus had regained consciousness, his fever was very high, and he seemed to be more delirious than rational.
“Boreas, you carried out my orders, didn’t you? You disfigured the beautiful Yaco, you abused the face of my beloved…” He buried his face in his hands and began sobbing uncontrollably.
“I know, I know,” he continued after a pause. “I know everything, Boreas.”
The giant tensed. Glaucus continued, his voice now turning ice cold.
“Falanto told me everything. He witnessed your actions.”
Boreas flung a murderous look at Falanto. The old man was trembling, his eyes fixed on the ground. He would be the first to be killed.
“Fools!” shouted Glaucus all of a sudden. “You’re all fools to have obeyed orders when it was not I giving them but an evil spirit that had taken possession of me.”
Boreas looked at the guards from the corner of his eye, preparing himself.
“Tell me, at least,” Glaucus seemed to be losing strength, and his voice sounded tired again, compassionate, pleading, “tell me, at least, that he didn’t suffer.”
The Sybarite looked at Boreas, his eyes brimming with tears. The giant made a gesture, as if to indicate a gentle blow.
“You knocked him unconscious so he wouldn’t suffer?”
Boreas affirmed with a nod.
“Thank you. For that, at least, thank you.”
He remained silent and perfectly still, his head fallen forward on his chest. He looked like an enormous, flabby doll someone had abandoned between those damp sheets.
After a while, the onlookers began to think he had fallen asleep.
“But you shouldn’t have done it,” said Glaucus unexpectedly, as if he had
n’t ceased speaking. “Yaco would still be with us, he would be with me right now.” He looked one way, then another, lost in the confusion of his mind. “He must be with me.”
He turned to the guards, suddenly decisive.
“Bring him here.”
The chief guard was taken aback.
“Bring who, my lord?”
“Yaco. Bring him here.”
He said it in a calm voice, as if it were a reasonable request.
“But… But… My lord, Yaco is at sea right now. His ship set sail two days ago.”
“Fine.” Glaucus nodded. “Bring him here.”
The chief guard swallowed.
“We can’t do that. His ship was one of the fastest in the fleet, and it was sailing directly to Sidon.”
“Bring him here!” Glaucus bellowed, going red in the face. “You damned imbecile, bring Yaco here or I’ll chain you to an oar until you rot. Buy the fastest ship in the port and leave immediately to find Yaco. And if the ship is carrying cargo, throw it overboard as you leave the port. Fly like birds, if you have to, but bring back Yaco!!!”
“Yes, my lord,” stammered the guard. “However…” he was terrified to go on, “I mean…it could take us a month to get to Sidon and back, and maybe, maybe Yaco…”
Glaucus was staring at him with the ferocity of a rabid dog, and the guard didn’t dare finish his statement. He quickly stood at attention and left to follow the order. A secretary accompanied him to arrange the purchase of the ship.
Glaucus turned to Boreas.
“And you…” he grunted, pointing at him. “You, you cursed animal, how could you have defiled Yaco’s face, how could you even have touched him? You…” He pressed his lips together and exhaled through his nose like a bull ready to charge. “Get out of my sight, you damned filthy beast!”
Everyone hurried out of Boreas’ way as he existed the stifling room. He went through the private palace courtyard feeling the cool perspiration evaporate on his skin, then crossed the main courtyard, and entered the stables. There, he ordered the stable boy to go outside and keep him informed of what was happening.
An hour later, the slave returned.
“The master has gotten out of bed,” he said without daring to look Boreas in the eye. “He’s marching around the palace like a lunatic, shouting his remorse and breaking everything.”
Boreas grunted so the boy would go outside again, and began to think. A deep frown creased his enormous forehead.
I have to get ready for the return of the ship that set out to fetch Yaco.
CHAPTER 24
April 19th, 510 B.C.
Akenon returned from the gymnasium muttering under his breath. He had intended to ask Pythagoras to assign him one of the two candidates to the succession that had inspired the most confidence in him: Evander or Daaruk.
Exempting them from the secret oath would have been enough for the clarification I need for the investigation.
Before he could put forward his suggestion, however, Pythagoras had surprised him with the last choice that would have occurred to Akenon.
Already at the master level? He still couldn’t believe it.
Passing through the portico into the community, the statues of Hermes and Dionysus to his left and right, he went up the small incline and turned right, toward the school buildings.
There she was, surrounded by a group of children aged between seven and ten. The little ones were coming out of school, chattering happily as they filed out in orderly fashion, two by two. Morning classes were over, and they were going to the dining hall.
She was standing beside the row of children, who waved at her as they went by.
“Hello again, Ariadne.”
She turned around, the cheerful expression she’d worn with the children still on her face.
“Akenon,” she said, with a cheeky grin. “Let me guess. Have you changed your mind?” Without waiting for an answer, she shook her head as if she were reprimanding a small boy. “My, my, what an inconsistent man you are.”
Akenon sighed. He had imagined he’d have to put up with Ariadne’s sarcastic side.
“Your father has sent me to you. I suppose you knew this would happen.”
She shrugged. The last children in the row were going into the dining hall.
“You could have done it voluntarily, or you could be obliged by the circumstances. Such a shame you had to be forced into spending some time with me.” Her mock seriousness became a playful grin. “Come on, follow me.”
They entered the school building and went into the nearest classroom. A row of stools had been placed in a semi-circle around a teacher’s chair. The only table in the room was set to one side, with several tablets on it. Ariadne sat in the teacher’s chair, indicating a stool with her hand.
Akenon took his seat and instantly felt ridiculous. He was a large man, and the stool was minuscule, sized for seven- or eight-year-old children. In front of him was Ariadne, seated on a normal-sized chair, putting on a stern teacher expression.
“What’s that look of disgust, Akenon?” She was obviously enjoying herself. Usually she felt uncomfortable around adults and acted sullen, especially with men, but with Akenon it was different. She felt like joking with him.
“Right, that’s enough.” Akenon stood up. “Pythagoras says you can give me some explanations of the concepts of your doctrine. Can you?”
“I couldn’t pass up that opportunity, I’m sorry.” Ariadne contained herself for a moment, and then burst out laughing. “You looked so funny sitting there!”
She laughed again, and Akenon became serious. Though he seemed slightly offended, his eyes were still sweet and kind.
“I’m delighted to be a source of entertainment for you. Can we get down to business now?”
Ariadne felt a sadness, realizing something had changed between them. The spontaneous innuendoes they had exchanged on the journey from Sybaris to Croton had disappeared. That’s the price I pay for my father being the great Pythagoras, she thought with resignation.
“What do you want to know?”
“I don’t know exactly.” Akenon lifted his shoulders. “Whatever’s necessary to get an idea of what prompts the behavior of the members of the brotherhood. Their possible motives. I’ve seen many crimes driven by religious beliefs. To solve them, you need to understand the criminal’s mind, the ideas that lead him to commit the crime. Pythagoreanism, if we can call it that, seems to me to be a religion with very devout followers…” He hesitated a moment before voicing his thoughts. “Quite fanatical, in fact.” He raised his hand in a conciliatory gesture. “No offense.”
“None taken. I consider sincerity a virtue,” said Ariadne, with a slight smile.
Akenon took a few moments to gather his thoughts.
“Basically, I need to understand certain terms and acquire a general overview. I think that will be important if I’m to get to the bottom of this case. I’ve started questioning some members of the School, including some of your father’s intimate circle. So far, they’ve already mentioned the tetraktys several times. I have no idea what it is, but they seem to attach a lot of importance to it. And as everyone keeps a strict oath of secrecy, no one explains anything to me.”
“My father told you I wouldn’t keep the oath of secrecy?”
“Well, no…” he answered, embarrassed. “What he said…”
“I’m joking, I’m sorry.” Ariadne looked at the ground for several moments before continuing. “It’s true that I’m the best person for this. It’s one of the reasons I told you this morning that I’d like to be part of the investigation,” she said, with a touch of recrimination.
“I didn’t know you were a grand master.”
“I’m a master, not a grand master, although…” She paused, thinking of her erratic academic formation. “It’s complicated. In any case, I’ll be able to answer most of your questions about the doctrine. I’m also governed by the oath of secrecy, but my adherence to it is not a
s strict. That oath is taken to protect the core of the doctrine, powerful insights that could be catastrophic if they fell into the wrong hands. Also, and please don’t take offense, only very few people gain an understanding of the principal teachings, and only after devoting many years of intense study to them.”
As I did, she added to herself, pensive. From fifteen to twenty-five, she had immersed herself in study for sixteen hours a day. One whole decade detached from the world, with the sole exception of her father.
Ariadne banished the memories before looking up again. She was sorry they had come to her mind just at that point, since she didn’t want Akenon to perceive the dark shadows deep within her.
Their eyes met. Akenon’s were narrowed slightly, expressing something between curiosity and concern. Ariadne looked away quickly. For a moment, she had felt vulnerable, something she hated. She picked up a tablet and a wooden stylus and took a deep breath to compose herself.
“Let’s not lose any time.” She showed a mischievous smile and shook the tablet in front of him. “I suppose you’ll be prepared to repay generosity with generosity.”
“Ariadne,” replied Akenon, “my duty is to inform Pythagoras alone of how the investigation is progressing.”
“And mine is to respect the oath of secrecy, the same as the rest of the disciples. And I’m not just asking you to give me information. I’m asking you to let me participate.”
Akenon pondered this. Up to now, he had discovered nothing that could be considered confidential, and there would be time enough to ask Pythagoras if he agreed with Ariadne being part of a team with him. Besides, his intuition told him she could be a valuable member of the investigation.
“Very well.”
Ariadne’s face lit up.
“Good. Let’s begin with the tetraktys.” She placed the tablet on the table.
It was a pinewood tablet, with a thin layer of wax on one side. To write on it, a wooden stylus was used to etch the wax. The other end of the stylus was flat, to smooth the wax and erase the writing. Ariadne wiped the wax with the flat end of the stylus several times until what had been written on it disappeared. Then she started talking as she etched the tablet.
Killing Pythagoras (Mediterranean Prize Winner 2015) Page 11
