The Book of the Dead

by Paul Davis

  Kaires followed the sailor into the central hall. A magnificent dining room, which must have occupied three quarters of the length of the barge, stretched out before him. The tables, which once strained under the legendary banquets of Cleopatra, were now loaded with cases of papyrus, pens, ink cakes, and burnishers. All around, large open windows looked out across the port and the lake beyond. To the stern, so Ipi informed him, lay the Queen's suite. A guard stood at its entrance. Below all of this were the other bedrooms, and below them, the kitchens, staff quarters, and somewhere in the depths, the rowing benches.

  They went down a floor to the bedroom level. A corridor stretched along the central axis, with six bedrooms opening off on each side. Some doors were closed, but through others Kaires caught glimpses of spacious, well appointed rooms with neatly made up beds and separate sitting or working areas. Each had a window opening on to a promenade deck which ran all round the craft. He couldn’t suppress a feeling of excitement, of anticipation for the weeks ahead. If only it really had been a simple study trip, if all he had had to do was look, listen, and learn, take in all the sights, and return to Alexandria with the treasures of Egypt fresh in his mind to share with Hotepet and his father... better still if they could have come too... Instead of the seemingly impossible and certainly thankless task that lay before him.

  Ipi guided him towards the stern, to the last on the port side. The door was open, and they waited while two crewmen put the last of Kaires’s chests on the floor by the window. As they left, Ipi stood aside for him.

  ‘I’ll let your servant know you’ve arrived,’ he began.

  Kaires moved to explain. ‘I decided not to…’

  ‘Why, here she is!’ he said, standing aside.

  ‘Good morning, Dr. Kaires,’ said Iola, walking in to his room. ‘Thankyou, Ipi, you can go now.’

  -0-

  Iola pulled the door closed behind her.

  ‘Please don’t be angry,’ she said. ‘I had to come. Don’t you see? I might be very useful to you. I shan’t mind pretending to be your servant at all. I was used to looking after my father, and you can’t be that different. This room’s nice, isn’t it?’

  Kaires couldn’t help giving the cabin a quick once over. It was indeed lovely. He imagined that it, too, had been stripped of most of its glories - there was certainly no lapis to be seen - but what remained left no room for complaint. A comfortable looking bed, a desk, chair, and a long couch comprised the furnishings, and a good sized window looked out over a promenade deck to the lake beyond, allowing a cool breeze to riffle the gauze curtains. He would certainly be very content here. But that wasn’t the point.

  ‘Never mind the room,’ he replied, ‘what on earth do you think you are doing here? How did you get on board? What will your mother think?’

  ‘She thinks I’ve gone to her sister to get settled in. She won’t find out I’ve gone until tonight, after we’ve sailed. I’ve left a letter for her so she won’t worry. You must realise that I simply have to be here. There’s bound to be things you’ll need to know about my father that I’ll be able to tell you. I don’t know anyone else on board. If no one suspects I’m anything other than a servant, I can pick up all sorts of bits of information that may turn out to be useful. Think about it for a minute and you’ll see I’m right’

  Kaires had lived with his sister too long to think that he had any chance of persuading this determined young woman otherwise, but he felt honour bound to at least try.

  ‘This barge is no place for someone like you. You might be the only woman on board for all I know; anyway as a servant you’ll be treated like dirt, and to top it all we may be harbouring a murderer. It’s far too dangerous. Apart from anything else you’ll be recognised. You can turn round and go straight back to your mother. I can’t possibly take responsibility for you.’

  Iola smiled patiently, as if dealing with a difficult child.

  ‘And anyway, where will you sleep? You can’t possibly stay here,’ said Kaires, realising too late the weakness of what he had just said.

  Her response was to open the lid of his trunk and begin unpacking. ‘The others are on the upper deck. Why don’t you join them? I’ll get the place ready and see if I can find out which rooms all the others are in. Don’t worry about me being recognised. No one here’s seen me except at father’s funeral, where I had a cloak over my head. None of the scholars came back to the apartment afterwards. I’ve already been down to the servants’ quarters and I shall be quite comfortable there, thank you. Only Chaeremon and Mantios have brought their personal servants, the rest have come from the Museum. Apart from them, it’s just the oarsmen and crew, the laundry and the kitchen staff. I’m certainly not the only woman. As your personal servant, I answer only to you, so no one is going to order me around. I only need a space to sleep, and there’s plenty of room for me downstairs. I don’t think there were any other objections?’

  Realising that further discussion would be fruitless, Kaires left her to it. In truth, he could see several ways in which she could be extremely useful to have around. Someone outside the academic circles, unknown and unnoticed, and yet familiar with that world, able to pass from room to room virtually unseen – who paid any attention to the servants? Yes, as long as she could keep her head, Iola could be a definite asset. He might worry what Myrine would say when she found out, but at least he had done his best to dissuade her.

  He made his way back up to the main deck. Coming out in to the bright Alexandrian sunshine made him screw up his eyes. Raising his hand to shade them, he allowed himself to imagine for a moment this barge in all its glory. The Queen reclining in the shade of a pavilion on the rear upper deck, the fine curtains moving gently in the breeze; the waft of delicious incense, and the soothing notes of her harpist lulling her into a restful sleep, sinking in to the richly embroidered cushions on her golden couch…

  A burst of laughter from the upper deck dispelled the image. Kaires climbed up the stair to join his fellow travellers, stepping out on to the deck to see the whole of the port and lake spread out before him. He paused to take it all in; breathless for a moment, not with exertion but with this sight of the city he loved. Alexandria, city of Alexander, of the Ptolemies, of Cleopatra, and now of Rome. He took a deep breath and went over to the small group sitting below a light awning at the rear of the deck.

  Kaires already knew most of the scholars gathered there, at least by sight. Aristeon, Mantios, Chaeremon, and the brothers Dexios and Thestor. But it was with decidedly mixed feelings that he saw the familiar form of Aelius Gallus sitting back comfortably in a wicker chair, deep in conversation with a stranger. So it had been his travelling chest he had seen coming up the gangplank, after all. And with that realisation his dreams of an undisturbed few weeks pursuing his own investigations, free from outside interference, vanished like the harbour mist in the face of the sun.

  The Prefect turned to greet Kaires as he approached.

  ‘Ah, so you made it. Welcome on board. You’ll be delighted to know that I have been persuaded by my good friend here to join you all for at least part of the trip. He says I shouldn’t miss the opportunity of seeing a bit more of the province that I am supposed to be governing.’

  He smiled at his companion. ‘Let me introduce you to Dr. Kaires. Kaires, this is Strabo.’

  Kaires took the proffered hand. ‘Pleased to meet you,’ he said.

  ‘Likewise. And take no notice of Aelius. He needed no persuading at all. It was I who insisted on coming. Won’t you sit down?’

  Kaires did so. Strabo leant forward to pour him a cup of palm wine. He was a striking fellow, tall, dark, and in good physical shape, in his late thirties or early forties. As Strabo handed him the wine Kaires noticed the reason for his nickname. An obvious squint. It made him slightly uncomfortable, as if Strabo could see through and beyond him. Kaires stifled a desire to look behind to see what was over his shoulder.

  Gallus continued with the introductions. ‘Everyone e
lse I believe you know. Chaeremon, the geographer; Mantios, the astronomer; Aristeon, the architect; Dexios, the historian; and Thestor, the philosopher. I hope I have given everyone their correct discipline. There will be plenty of time for us all to get to know each other better over the coming weeks.’

  Chaeremon spoke. ‘I think we saw you yesterday at Zeno’s funeral, Dr. Kaires. It is good to be able to see you again on this happier occasion. We are all looking forward to this voyage of discovery, to see so much that we have only read about but often imagined.’

  He looked at Strabo, a slight glint in his eye. Kaires suspected there would be no love lost between the two rival geographers.

  ‘We are honoured to have Strabo amongst us,’ he continued. ‘We’re all familiar with his excellent Historical Memoirs. And now he has turned his attention to that greatest of disciplines and is collecting notes for a Geography. Will he mention all of us in it, do you think?’

  Strabo was saved from politely deflecting this mischievous question by the arrival of two more scholars from the library. Prokles, lame in one leg, ascended the gangplank with difficulty, followed closely by Haemon. Two of the crew waited at the top, ready to go down and deal with their luggage once they were safely on board.

  Gallus stood up and went over to the railing. ‘Come straight up and say hello! You can sign the log in my room later. It’s time we were getting ready to go!’

  A few moments later they appeared in the upper deck. Haemon, the mathematician, and Prokles, another historian. After more introductions, Gallus called for more wine to be poured.

  ‘So! We are all here! Let’s drink to a successful trip. May you all achieve what you are setting out to do.’

  He raised his cup. ‘To the Furtherance of Knowledge!’

  They all drank.

  -0-

  There was still an hour or so before the Gloria Aegyptae would be ready to leave, so the group began to disperse, mainly to go below and finish unpacking. Chaeremon and Mantios remained on deck, and Kaires stayed with them. They stood and moved over to the railing to watch as one of the sailors struggled to bring a large, spitting and obviously reluctant cat up the gangplank.

  ‘Must be rats on board’, suggested Chaeremon, ‘although that’s no way to talk about our fellow scholars.’ He winked. ‘So, Dr. Kaires, I wasn’t aware you were coming along too. Here in case the effort of this trip is too much for some of us? I always worry about Mantios here. He consumes far too much good food and wine. Bound to take its toll sooner or later. It will be comforting to have you here to deal with the inevitable explosion.’

  Chaeremon himself was of middle height, and although probably the oldest person on the trip, was lean and fit looking. Like many in the peak of good health, he had little time for those whom he considered overindulged. Mantios, only slightly younger, looked much worse for wear. Red faced and considerably overweight, he puffed and sweated at the slightest exertion; even getting out of his chair had clearly been a considerable effort.

  He grunted at Chaeremon. ‘Dr. Kaires would hardly trouble himself about the health of a few scholars, even those who are clearly undernourished. I hope you don’t have some awful wasting sickness, Chaeremon. Perhaps Dr. Kaires would be kind enough to take a look at you sometime. But if not for us, no doubt he is here to look after the Prefect. Is he unwell? He looked in fine form to me.’

  ‘Not at all, he’s perfectly healthy. I’m here entirely on my own account. I hope to call in at some of the temples along the way to see if the priests have any new remedies for me. Some of them are more knowledgeable than all the doctors in Alexandria put together. But you’re both familiar to me from the Museum. I’m sure our paths have crossed from time to time. The Prefect was right with your subjects, was he not? Chaeremon the geographer and Mantios the astronomer?’

  ‘That’s right.’ It was Mantios who answered. ‘Astronomy is the most fascinating of subjects. We can never hope to solve all the mysteries of the heavens. Do you know there are more than six hundred stars, all related to each other in some way?’ He spoke with the enthusiasm of a fanatic. ‘But it is how they relate to the Earth that really interests me. I’m hoping to confirm some ideas I have about the orientation of the Nile in respect to the stars. It is said that the Ancients understood their power better than we do now, and built their pyramids and temples in accordance with their forces, which is why they still remain standing after all this time. I’m hoping that at least some of their wisdom remains, forgotten but secure, in one or two of the temples along the way. Some of them have libraries which probably haven’t been consulted for hundreds of years, perhaps even thousands, just waiting for the right person to come along.’

  A snort from Chaeremon interrupted his flow. ‘I was just explaining it to Chaeremon here but he has a very narrow mind. He’s only interested in his maps.’

  ‘Which can at least be seen during the daytime. Astronomers spend all their time stumbling about in the dark, when the world should be tucked up in bed.’

  ‘You’d be pleased to have us there if you were out at sea. The stars are better than any map, especially the one you’ve put on the table downstairs, which even I can see is upside down.’

  ‘We aren’t out at sea. And anyway, I only put the map there for the time being. I haven’t arranged it yet. When I do you will find it an invaluable guide to our forthcoming adventure. It is a copy of the very one that Caesar and Cleopatra used when they travelled down the Nile on this same barge. It shows all the major and minor cities, temples and monuments as far down as the First Cataract. The others, at least, will find it useful.’

  Kaires tried hard to get a word in. ‘I’m fortunate to be here. Although, of course, I wish the circumstances had been otherwise. Poor Zeno – did you know him well?’

  ‘We all did,’ Chaeremon replied. ‘It was his idea to arrange this trip in the first place. Got us all interested. We all jumped at the chance. Even Mantios, when he heard one of the Museum’s best cooks was coming along. He was a good man – such a shame. I can’t imagine who would do such a thing. Never a cross word to anyone.’

  ‘What was his area of study?’

  ‘He was an historian. But he had other interests. Geography was one of them, which was one reason why we got on so well.’

  ‘Wasn’t he organising the archives?

  ‘Yes, as a favour to the Director. They were close – he was probably going to take over from him soon.’

  ‘The archives must have been an interesting challenge. Goodness knows what’s down there.’

  Mantios felt it was his turn to say something.

  ‘You could say that. He came up with all sorts of stuff. Just recently he showed us some letters he had found from Octavian to Anthony sent while the latter was being such a fool with Cleopatra. The language! Would have made Catullus blush.’

  ‘Was he different at all before he died?’

  ‘In what way?’

  ‘Well, was he excited about anything? Did he talk about any changes in his life?’

  Chaeremon answered. ‘Not to me. If anything he seemed rather quieter than usual. Kept himself to himself these last few days, whereas the rest of us couldn’t stop talking about this trip.’

  ‘And you’re sure he had no enemies?’

  ‘None at all.’ Chaeremon narrowed his eyes. ‘You seem particularly interested in a man you hardly knew.’

  Kaires thought he’d better backtrack a little. ‘Well, I knew him to speak to. But not well. I was just wondering what sort of man I was replacing. He sounds like he was good company. You’ll all miss him.’

  ‘Maybe not all.’ It was Mantios who now spoke. His voice had an unmistakeably malicious tone. ‘I don’t suppose Dexios will be too upset that he’s not coming. Both historians, you see. Always arguing about something.’

  Chaeremon tutted. ‘Now now, Mantios, stop stirring. Dexios will probably miss those arguments more than anyone.’

  ‘Hmph. They were ready to scratch each other's e
yes out for the Directorship. Now Dexios has a good chance of landing it himself.’

  Myrine had said that the Director of the Museum was ready for retirement. Would the coming vacancy be a sufficient motive for Zeno's death? Clearing away some of the competition? From what he knew about the academic life, it certainly would. He had known scholars come to blows over the smallest difference of opinion or imagined slight. He decided to risk another little push. ‘Have you any idea who could have killed him? It seems fairly impossible...’

  The scholars exchanged a look. Chaeremon spoke.

  ‘That’s just what’s been puzzling us all. None of us killed him, if that's what you're thinking. From the moment Aristeon saw him close his shutters, no one went in his room. Who’s to say he didn’t do it himself? Some of the scholars are already half mad. Probably wouldn’t take much to push some of them over the edge. Take Mantios here, lying on the roof every night trying to make sense of all those far away little dots of light. It’s a constant surprise to me that he hasn’t yet jumped off. Probably only a matter of time.’

  ‘I’ll be sure to ask you to join me,’ said Mantios.

  Kaires smiled. ‘I heard that you were the last to see him alive...’

  ‘Apart from whoever killed him, you mean? Well I did have a brief chat but he was unusually cantankerous. Wanted to get some work finished and practically pushed me out of his room. Very rude.’

  ‘He was making copies of something, I think?’

  ‘Two things, actually. They were on his desk along with the originals. Some boring maxims, and some architect’s plan or other.’

  ‘There were four papyri?’

  ‘I suppose so, if you count the copies. Don’t know why you’re so interested. He was keen to get on with it, so he wanted me out. But even so I wasn't the last to see him - Aristeon saw him close his shutters against the sun after I had gone to my room, so don't go thinking I had anything to do with it.’