Killing Pythagoras (Mediterranean Prize Winner 2015)

by Marcos Chicot

  “Esteemed disciples, we will devote ourselves to study, as we do every morning, until the sun reaches its zenith. To take advantage of the good weather, you will take class with your masters in the gardens, the woods, or under the porticos at the gymnasium. Each group will devote ten minutes to the news that has come to us from Sybaris. The remaining time will be spent on whatever topic each group had prepared for study today.”

  The disciples bowed their heads without replying, relieved as they always were whenever they listened to their supreme leader. To them, his words were a manifestation of his Wisdom.

  The philosopher continued walking along the dirt path toward the gymnasium. Two imposing hoplites followed a few yards behind. Pythagoras believed they were still under threat, but the presence of the army and the amount of time that had passed without incident made him feel he should deal with some outstanding matters.

  The time has come to resume my travels.

  For the past month, he had been postponing a trip to Neapolis, a city located half way between Croton and Rome. He had to decide if conditions were favorable for establishing a permanent community in Neapolis. Besides, he wanted to obtain the latest news about Rome. The last information he had received was confusing. Apparently the current king, Lucius Tarquinius, a despot known as “the Proud”, was facing difficulties over some murky affair.

  Pythagoras had always felt intuitively that the city of Rome, traditionally vibrant and expansive, would play an important political role in the coming years. To maintain good relations with them, and perhaps win them over to his cause in the future, he kept key contacts in the royal family as well as among the opposition. Winners of political conflicts usually implemented significant institutional changes. Those moments when power was redistributed could be useful to the Pythagorean School in gaining a presence.

  The Roman throne is tottering. We must be closer to Rome than ever.

  CHAPTER 50

  June 3rd, 510 B.C.

  “Are you sure the prize is in gold and not silver?” asked Akenon, perplexed. He was unable to assimilate what Ariadne had just told him.

  She nodded, giving him time to react. His initial incredulity was understandable. In the meeting with Pythagoras, no one had been able to believe what they were hearing until the philosopher had repeated the huge sum three times.

  Akenon made an effort to comprehend the magnitude of the prize Glaucus was offering.

  Ten times his own weight in gold!

  He thought of the fat Sybarite, his flabby flesh and corpulent body. Moreover, he was quite tall. He must weigh well over three hundred pounds. Ten times his weight was more than three thousand pounds.

  A ton and a half in gold! Was it possible for anyone to have so much money? He continued calculating, using the arithmetical skills his father had made him develop when he was a young boy in Egypt. Gold was worth about fifteen times more than silver, which meant that Glaucus’ prize was equivalent to forty-five thousand pounds of silver. Incredible… He recalled the Sybarite’s enormous palace. The walls of the banquet hall were covered in silver panels. Glaucus often adorned himself with heavy gold bracelets and pendants. Silver and gold were plentiful in candelabras, tripods, furniture inlays… Maybe he could back his mad offer. Sybaris was the wealthiest city Akenon had ever heard of, and Glaucus was surely the wealthiest man in all of Sybaris.

  What’s the equivalent of the prize in silver drachmas? He had to keep in mind that the drachma in Magna Graecia followed the Corinthian system. It weighed approximately twenty percent less than the one used in Carthage, which in turn weighed twenty percent less than the Athenian drachma. He concentrated until he came up with the final amount.

  “By Osiris, nearly eight million drachmas!”

  Ariadne was startled by Akenon’s exclamation. She hadn’t made the conversion to drachmas, and now took a moment to verify that the calculation was correct… Yes, it is. She was surprised that Akenon had been able to work out such a complicated calculation with such large numbers. In the month and a half since the hooded man had injured Akenon, they had had many conversations, and she knew that the Egyptian’s intelligence and mathematical knowledge was very advanced for someone who wasn’t a Pythagorean, but even so, she was amazed he could work out the amount in his head, and in so little time.

  Akenon was still fascinated by the amount. The sum he had earned for revealing that Glaucus’ slave lover was deceiving him with the wine servant was enough to allow him to stop working for a few years. For the rest of my life, if I manage it carefully. The sum had been the slave’s weight in silver. Now Glaucus was offering a sum three times as high, given that the Sybarite weighed three times more than the slave, and ten times that because he was offering ten times his weight as compared to one time the slave’s, and fifteen times that again, given that gold was fifteen times more valuable than silver.

  Three times ten times fifteen… Four hundred fifty times more than I earned, and that was by far the most I was ever paid in my life.

  He was quite right in thinking that his hundred pounds of silver, about seventeen thousand drachmas, was a small fortune very few men managed to accumulate. In fact, a month ago he had taken most of his silver to Eritrius, the custodian, for safekeeping while he was in Croton. It was too much to keep in a simple wooden chest, in a community that was under threat.

  He began voicing his astonishment.

  “A worker can be hired for one drachma a day. A modest house might cost three or four thousand drachmas. A mansion could be a hundred thousand.” He turned to Ariadne. “Eight million is more than a wealthy family will spend in their whole life…!”

  He stopped when he saw the look on Ariadne’s face and realized he was reacting like a child. It was normal to be awestruck by the thought of such a fabulous treasure, but he had to come down to earth and concentrate on the implications.

  Ariadne waited with a half-smile for Akenon’s expression to show he had stopped visualizing waterfalls of gold and silver. Though more moderate and brief, her own first reaction had been similar, and when she had left the meeting there were still many masters with their eyes like saucers contemplating images of unprecedented wealth. Renouncing material things was a priority for the Pythagoreans, but the baser instincts were always there beneath the mantle of self-control.

  Akenon smiled, slightly embarrassed, and Ariadne continued explaining the situation.

  “What Glaucus is trying to obtain with so much gold is an approximation to a concept that my father’s followers have been pursuing for years without success. You studied geometry and are knowledgeable about curves and circumferences.”

  Akenon nodded, curious.

  “Glaucus wants to calculate, with extreme precision, the ratio between circumference and diameter.” Ariadne emphasized her next words to underscore the absurdity of Glaucus’ ambition. “He’s looking for an approximation of four decimal places and the method to calculate it.”

  Akenon thought back to his father’s teachings. That ratio was one of the unknowns that baffled geometricians. It was difficult, sometimes impossible, to determine some of the ratios of straight-sided objects like triangles. But it was even harder to calculate them for objects with curved sides. And I’ve never heard of a method of calculation for the ratio Glaucus is after.

  “Experience shows that that ratio is slightly more than three,” he said, after pondering for a while.

  “Yes. Glaucus knows that already, but he wants something different. We’ll never be able to come up with four decimal places by experimenting with real circles.”

  “So how do you do it?”

  “To achieve what he wants, you’d have to apply abstract reasoning and then show proof, the most sophisticated tools my father uses in his mathematical investigations. It’s a problem to which dozens of masters have devoted their lives without even coming close to what Glaucus is asking. My father spent quite a lot of time on it, and concluded it wasn’t possible. Since then, given my father’s a
uthority, no one has worked on this.”

  “But Glaucus is a Pythagorean initiate. I suppose he knows what you’ve just told me.”

  Ariadne’s face darkened as if night had fallen inside her.

  “Glaucus is a non-resident initiate. He’s been taught mathematics and other disciplines at a superficial level, so he can use them as a tool for meditation and spiritual sublimation.” She sighed and returned to a topic she had already discussed with Akenon. “My father’s will is that men and their governments act according to certain rules that guarantee moderation and goodwill. The ultimate goal is to increase personal development and universal harmony. In the case of politically influential men like Glaucus, my father sometimes has to limit himself to practical considerations. He tries to make these men’s influence serve the interests of the doctrine, without expecting great personal progress from people who aren’t prepared to give up the baser passions of their souls.”

  “It doesn’t look as if Glaucus agrees with the limits Pythagoras has established.”

  “Glaucus has always been an enigma. I don’t know him personally, but my father has told me a lot about him. Glaucus is ruled by intense and contradictory passions. Throughout his life he’s veered from one extreme to the other, and now it appears he’s made the biggest turnaround yet. He’s also done it against my father’s instructions. Glaucus has tried in the past to take shortcuts to gain access to restricted knowledge. My father reprimanded his behavior, and the Sybarite promised he wouldn’t offer money again in exchange for knowledge… And look what he’s done now.”

  Ariadne’s words conjured up ambiguous images of Glaucus in Akenon’s mind: the dedication and gusto he showed when eating and drinking, the sharp intelligence in his penetrating eyes during conversations about geometry, the mixture of lust and adoration with which he stroked his slave’s adolescent flesh, the implacable fury with which he had ordered the monster Boreas to crush Thessalus and torture Yaco.

  He recalled one time in Carthage, before he first traveled to Sybaris, Eshdek had spoken to him about Glaucus, warning him he was peculiar. It’s as if there were different people living inside the one person, had been Eshdek’s exact words. It was quite an accurate description, but Eshdek had been wrong in later commenting that Glaucus wasn’t dangerous.

  Akenon realized that the news and memories of Glaucus had affected his mood. Despite the mild spring-like weather and the sweet scent of the grass, the atmosphere in the community seemed suddenly heavier, laden with threats, suspicion, and greed.

  The questions were outnumbering the answers. Did Glaucus have something to do with what had happened in the community, perhaps in his search for knowledge? Could he be an accomplice, or perhaps the mastermind behind the murders?

  Was his exorbitant prize, enough to outfit an army, a threat to the Pythagoreans?

  There was only one way to answer those questions. Akenon nodded in response to his own thoughts, took a deep breath, and hardened his gaze.

  I have to go back to Sybaris and confront Glaucus.

  CHAPTER 51

  June 3rd, 510 B.C.

  Two hours later, in the gymnasium’s spacious gallery, Pythagoras announced his immediate plans to his intimate circle.

  “Evander, you will come with me to Neapolis. If the conditions are propitious for setting up a community, you’ll stay there and lead it for the first few months, until I designate someone to fill that role on a permanent basis. It could even be you if, when the time comes, you prefer to stay in Neapolis instead of coming back to Croton.”

  Evander nodded briefly, with mixed feelings. Pythagoras was demonstrating great trust in him, but at the same time he was willing to permanently separate Evander from himself. In any case, Evander valued the decision and believed it to be a good one. He felt ready to lead a small community. Besides, his loyalty was absolute. He would never oppose his master.

  Pythagoras continued.

  “Hippocreon, you will accompany us to Neapolis.” The man he had addressed gave a start and paid closer attention. “I know you’d rather not get involved in political affairs, but you have family in Rome, and we may do as much business in Rome as in Neapolis on this journey.”

  “As you wish, master,” replied Hippocreon in a neutral tone.

  Pythagoras watched him for a few moments. His disciple abhorred politics, but he would do a very good job when it came to managing his influence in the web of Roman politics.

  Before continuing, he glanced behind the disciples. Each of their two bodyguards, ten soldiers in all, waited a small distance away.

  We’ll take them to Neapolis. Though Pythagoras had an aversion to weapons, on this occasion it would be more prudent to travel with military protection. Each disciple would take his two hoplites, and he would ask Milo to assign them an additional escort.

  He focused on his men again.

  “Aristomachus, you’ll stay here in the compound. You must make sure the teachings continue according to plan. You know better than anyone the work that has been done on the quotient between the circumference and the diameter, and you know Glaucus’ goal is absurd. No one should waste time on it. You’ll have Orestes with you. He’ll take on my role in political matters until I return.”

  He turned to Orestes, who couldn’t help swallowing.

  “Since Daaruk’s death, I’ve increased my attendance at the Council sessions,” Pythagoras said. “Before, I barely went once a month, but now I’ve been going every week. I want you to attend all the sessions. We’ve kept Cylon at bay, but I know he’s anxious to launch another political attack against us.” He looked at each of them to emphasize his next words. “As soon as he discovers I’m away, you can be sure not a day will go by before he tries his hardest to turn the Council against us. The Three Hundred will remain loyal, but they can’t control the rest of the Thousand on their own, however much the law says the Three Hundred are higher in the hierarchy. Your first act, Orestes, must be decisive, or Cylon will be encouraged and redouble his attacks.”

  Orestes couldn’t help standing taller. He’s making it clear he intends to appoint me as his successor! Pythagoras had never before designated anyone to replace him in the Council as head of the community. Now he was doing that with Orestes at one of the most critical moments the School had experienced.

  The philosopher could tell from Orestes’ face that he was overwhelmingly grateful but also a little uncomfortable with the weight of the responsibility.

  It will be good for his confidence. That’s the only thing he’s lacking.

  A minute later, Pythagoras said goodbye to his masters and walked away while he thought about the final instructions he would have to issue before leaving. He had minimized the importance of Glaucus’ surprising competition while talking to the brotherhood, but the fact was he had to deal with the matter.

  If we don’t control it in time, the consequences could be catastrophic.

  After lunch, Pythagoras held a meeting at his house, attended by Akenon, Ariadne, the four candidates, and Milo.

  “We need to go to Sybaris as soon as possible,” said Pythagoras. “Even though we spoke to Glaucus after Daaruk’s death, organizing this mathematical competition opens up too many unknowns. Not only is it an extreme, destabilizing act, it’s also a direct attack on our School’s doctrine, which Glaucus swore he’d abide by.”

  Ariadne, sitting in front of her father, looked down, keeping her gaze on the folds of her tunic. The mention of Sybaris made her remember what had happened after the death of Atma, Daaruk’s slave. That night, when she had arrived at the compound with the badly-injured Akenon, Milo himself had left at once for Sybaris with twenty soldiers. At the midpoint of their journey they had stopped at the ill-fated inn, where they took charge of Atma’s remains. Then they had questioned the innkeepers and the stable boy, learning nothing. They had looked in vain for other witnesses, then continued as far as Sybaris in the hope of finding some clue. They had spent several days in the city talking to ma
ny Sybarites, including Glaucus and other important Pythagoreans. However, if the hooded man had passed through Sybaris, he had done so without leaving any trace.

  Milo also said that Glaucus had caught his attention, not so much because he’d appeared to be hiding something, but because he was completely unhinged.

  Ariadne raised her head when she heard Akenon’s voice.

  “Questioning Glaucus is precisely my intention,” he said in response to Pythagoras’ words. “My plan is to leave as soon as possible.”

  “I appreciate your willingness to travel immediately,” replied Pythagoras. “As you might expect, given your recent dealings with Glaucus, I was intending to ask you to go to Sybaris. However, it would be preferable if you postponed your departure.”

  Akenon raised his eyebrows and waited for Pythagoras to explain.

  “As soon as this meeting is over,” continued the philosopher in his deep voice, “Evander, Hippocreon, and I are leaving on a journey. I’ve had to wait for the waters to settle in the Council in Croton. Now that the situation seems under control I have to leave as soon as possible. My work isn’t limited to this community, and I’ve postponed a visit to Neapolis for far too long.”

  Pythagoras preferred not to mention he also intended to do business with Rome. He guarded with utmost secrecy the information he had learned about the turbulent situation in that city, together with his plans in relation to it. Should they reach his enemies’ ears, they could ruin one of his most ambitious projects: to expand along with Rome.

  “How long will you be away?” asked Milo, surprised and a little disgruntled at not having been informed about any of this until now.

  “It depends on several factors. At least three weeks, but I hope the projects will be fruitful and require my attention for longer. I could even be away for two or three months. If that’s the case, I’ll send you a message from Neapolis.”