Authors: Jeryl Schoenbeck
Agrippas took Berenike back to the safety of the palace and into the arms of an anxious father. Archimedes’ active mind was scrutinizing every detail of his plans to save Berenike and the body of Alexander the Great. He couldn’t think of anything he would, or could, do differently. The crowds spread out after he crossed the bridge and the school was in sight, when Archimedes noticed a familiar, stoic figure glide toward him through the haze.
Traffic seemed to bend around Callimachus like a stream around a rock. He stopped and put his hands on his hips. When Archimedes approached with torn kilt and covered in burns, scratches and soot, Callimachus shook his head and smiled. “A gem cannot be polished without friction, nor a man perfected without trials. And here comes my diamond in the rough.” The serene attitude Callimachus displayed during these difficult times was the remedy a young boy needed after spending the last two days dueling with death.
Normally, Archimedes would be bursting to tell his teacher all about his intricate pulley system, raising the coffin of Alexander, and his new steam cannons, but he didn’t have the enthusiasm for any more machines. He only wanted to go back to school and sleep.
“
You don’t know how good it is to see a friendly face, Callimachus. I’m sorry I’ve been gone without you knowing where I was. I hope I haven’t caused any problems for you.”
Callimachus stroked the unruly, dark hair of his student. “You’ve been through a difficult ordeal, Archimedes. When I heard that both you and Princess Berenike were kidnapped, I trusted you to do whatever you could. Now I received word that the princess is safe and I see you walking among the living, and that is all that we hoped for. Let’s get you back to school and clean you up. Pharaoh Ptolemy is expecting you within the hour to explain in detail all that happened.”
“
I am also sorry,” Archimedes said before they walked any further, “about your brother Ajax. He came out of nowhere to rescue us and killed them all. He fought like Achilles himself during the battle of Troy and would have saved us both, had it not been for the cowardly attack by Ptahhotep. That is twice your brave brother saved me and I never thanked him.”
Callimachus knelt down and put his hands on Archimedes’ shoulders. “Don’t ever thank Ajax for anything. It only makes him more ornery than he already is.”
Talking about Ajax in the present rather than the past confused Archimedes, but he thought it best not to correct a grieving brother.
“
You, like too many of his enemies, underestimate Ajax,” Callimachus said. “It would take more than a coward’s dart to kill him. Hades didn’t want him so he spit him back to the living.”
“
He’s alive?” Archimedes wasn’t sure if he understood.
“
Alive and irritable. The dart could not get through the knot of muscle on that bull neck of his. The poison only weakened him, shutting down his muscles. He was in great pain from the muscle spasms, but he never complained.” Callimachus stood and they began to walk back to school.
“
As far as coming out of nowhere, that’s not exactly true,” Callimachus said. “I had him follow you because I feared you were getting too close to the truth about the murders and that someone may try to stop you, which we now know was the case. Now that Berenike is safe, Pharaoh Ptolemy has all the Medjay searching the city for Ptahhotep, since they no longer have to guard the body of Alexander.” Callimachus frowned slightly and nodded his head back toward the harbor.
Archimedes was just opening his mouth to explain but Callimachus interrupted him. “Save your breath and explanation for Ptolemy, you’re expected within the hour.”
The assembly gathered in the Pharaoh’s chambers was small and select. The nature of the meeting called for as few people as possible. By losing the most important symbol of Alexandria and his reign, Ptolemy could not risk letting any information leak out before he had a viable solution in place.
In addition to Ptolemy, there was Berenike, Remus (or Romulus), Callimachus, and Archimedes. There was one guard who could be trusted to keep quiet and only one scribe to write down the proceedings instead of the normal two. Callimachus escorted Archimedes to the palace and offered him advice along the way.
“
Resist the temptation to argue your good reasons,” Callimachus said. “You are not on trial, but close to it. The Pharaoh realizes you saved his only daughter’s life, but you have to understand the difficult position he is in. Only answer his questions, do not debate him.”
He looked over at Archimedes. “And for the love of the gods, do not mimic the bad manners Princess Berenike displays in court. Her father may indulge her; he won’t you.”
Whereas Callimachus casually drifted down the street like the breeze that skimmed them, Archimedes stumbled along in a sleep-deprived stupor, wondering if he would be able to keep his eyes open and his mouth closed.
After Callimachus and his student entered the chambers, they walked to the center of the room, the soft pad of their sandals echoing in the hushed room. Ptolemy was plainly dressed in only a kilt and a gold band around his black wig.
As instructed, Archimedes knelt until he felt the hand of Callimachus indicate he was recognized by the Pharaoh. Archimedes stood and faced the court and bowed his head, but not before looking to Berenike, who gave him a quick smile and one of her sassy winks.
“
Before we begin,” Ptolemy nodded to the scribe and he dipped his quill in the red ink, “I want to make clear two things. First, the traitorous murderer known as Ptahhotep is being hunted down as we speak. No more priests will participate in royal proceedings until we discover how extensively his mutinous ideas have infected the temples.”
Archimedes noticed that not only was Ptahhotep gone, so was his expensive chair. Coincidently, Ptolemy said, “That purging included his accursed chair. No one has been able to sit in it without getting touched by a lick of fire, so we removed it and burned it.” Archimedes had to catch his breath and could swear he heard Berenike give a quick snort of laughter.
“
Second,” Ptolemy continued, “we want to discover the reasons behind the theft of the body of Alexander the Great and ascertain the full extent of our loss.”
He paused and Archimedes felt the Pharaoh’s eyes burning into his bowed head. “However, any discussions on how to replace or even divulge Alexandria’s loss are subjects for a different meeting. What we do know is that a man claiming to be the legitimate son of Alexander the Great, along with the priest Ptahhotep, planned the theft of the coffin and a subsequent, but failed, insurrection. First they committed the barbaric murders of innocent workers at the lighthouse to dupe us and, when that did not work, then by the heinous kidnapping of Princess Berenike. Is that correct, Remus Decimus?”
Remus flinched, as if he was going to be exempt from the questioning. He quickly regained his composure and initiated his answer with a slick smile. “Thank you, Pharaoh Ptolemy, for inviting me.” He hesitated like he about to introduce his duplicitous brother, “And let me add, as a representative of the Republic of Rome, that we, yes we, respectfully offer any assistance in rooting out the treachery behind this act.”
A little late for that, Archimedes thought, tipping slightly from standing too long and sleeping too little.
“
As you know, Pharaoh,” Remus continued, “the mutual cooperation between our two great civilizations is of utmost importance to our Republic. When we, ahh, heard, that Princess Berenike was not only in danger, but had also been kidnapped…” he began tapping his fist against his mouth, “we immediately alerted the proper authorities. Of course, how we found out, well, we are not able to divulge our sources, as you can understand Great King, due to the immunities and intricacies necessitated in foreign relationships.”
Ptolemy began drumming his hand on the arm of the throne and Remus must have picked up the cue. “So, ah yes, to summarize, we alerted you that a man some claim to be from Rome…”
“
Save your apology for Rome’s lapses,” an agitated Ptolemy said. “Was he or was he not Alexander IV, son of Alexander the Great?”
Remus, slightly ruffled, began vacillating, “Well, of course, there is more to substantiate...”
“
Yes or no?” Ptolemy asked angrily.
“
Well, yes, we believe he was, yes.” Remus said, nervously looking around for either his brother or a quick exit. Archimedes’ mind drifted off and he stifled a yawn, causing his eyes to water.
“
Which brings us to you, Archimedes,” Ptolemy turned to him and he was brought back to consciousness. “Did you help the zealot Alexander in planning and removing the body of Alexander the Great?”
Archimedes struggled to raise his head. “Yes. By using a multiple pulley system, I was able to raise…”
Ptolemy cut him off. “So you freely admit to collaborating with this maniac in plundering Alexandria’s greatest treasure”
A tiny flame ignited in the belly of a tired, emotional boy. “While I won’t debate the value placed on the deceased, I do freely admit that all I was thinking about was keeping Princess Berenike alive rather than if Alexander could become any deader.”
Ptolemy bristled at the remark. “Control your tongue Archimedes, this isn’t the Athenian agora. Do not preach your intellectual introspection to me.”
With a huff, Berenike stood up from her chair and stood between the Pharaoh and the student. “Oh, be patient, father, he is obviously exhausted. Neither of us has slept in two days. Archimedes did what your navy could not have done—he saved my life. I’m sure that was all he meant.”
Like a large dog rebuked by its master, Ptolemy growled and squirmed in his chair. Being reminded that his daughter was here only because of the actions of the young man he now sat in judgment of, cooled Ptolemy’s temper.
“
After I was informed of the events by our competent ambassador from Rome,” Ptolemy said, “I dispatched my royal chariots to the dock to intercept the ship. My last command to you was to save the body of Alexander. Do you recall that directive?”
Archimedes had to shake his head to clear it. “I am sorry, no, I didn’t hear you. I was no longer concerned with the body…”
“
I allowed you one opportunity to philosophize about life and death, Archimedes. Do not tempt fate with another round of it.” Ptolemy leaned back. “This weapon you created, Agrippas said it ripped the ship apart like Zeus himself was casting thunderbolts from Mount Olympus. When you fired this weapon,” he stopped and asked Berenike, “What did you call it?”
“
Um, dead bat, or really, a cannon,” she said.
“
When you fired this cannon,” he asked Archimedes, “did it strike the box holding the coffin and demolish it?”
“
Yes, pharaoh, it did destroy the box.” That elicited a sharp intake of breath from Ptolemy. Since there was no follow up question, Archimedes took the opportunity to continue. “But I assure you the body was completely safe…”
“
Safe?” Ptolemy erupted. “Do you know how fragile a mummy is? A mummy is a leather egg shell wrapped in linen. Between the blasts from your cannons and disintegrating in the sea, we’d be lucky to find enough of the body to fill a beggar’s cup. How can you stand there and tell me the body was safe when the ship and all the contents aboard it were torn apart and thrown into the harbor?”
“
Because,” Archimedes answered, “the coffin and the body were never aboard the ship.”
Chapter 35
When Archimedes told Pharaoh Ptolemy that the revered coffin was not rotting in the depths of the harbor, but rather laying peacefully on the roof of the tomb, the Pharaoh jumped out of his throne like the glass globe was scorching his back.
“
Are you telling me the truth? Is the body of Alexander really safe and unharmed?” Archimedes assured him that yes, it was the truth and yes, it was perfectly safe and unharmed.
After the initial shock and exclamations, the Pharaoh ordered a platoon of Medjay to go immediately to the tomb and guard the wayward coffin until Archimedes could get there to oversee lowering it back on its marble pedestal. But first, Ptolemy had to find out how a schoolboy from Syracuse could pull off a deception that rivaled the Trojan Horse.
“
It would help if I had a model, a small box of some sort, to demonstrate how it worked,” Archimedes said.
Berenike grabbed a small cedar wood box off a table and dumped the contents, slapping the auburn box and lid in Archimedes’ hand with a little too much force and with a bit of scorn for added measure.
The way Archimedes explained it, it was just a simple matter of deception, like the con artist running the rigged game in the marketplace. Make your dupe believe there is something where it isn’t. Pollux was told to load a heavy box in a wagon and he did. Alexander IV expected a heavy box and he got it. The key component was the box he built.
Like the con man’s copper cups, the box was designed to allow for a quick switch. There was only one way to get the coffin out of the tomb and that was through the skylight. It was when Archimedes was looking up at the skylight that the plans formed in his head. By using multiple pulleys, Archimedes knew he could get the coffin up on the roof and out of Pollux’s sight. It also helped that it was night so no one detect the ruse.
“
What I built around the coffin was actually an upside down box, like this.” Archimedes held the cedar box up and then tipped it over with the lid on the palm of his hand. “After the coffin was raised to the roof I lifted the box off the coffin,” he demonstrated by carefully lifting the cedar model up and away from the lid. “Then I turned the box right side up,” he flipped the box over leaving the lid in his hand and the box upright and open.