Keeper of the Flame (11 page)

Bellus’s own centuria was housed in one of the smaller palaces, and he headed there now to raise his men. He marched through the cool marble hall to the series of chambers allocated to the soldiers.

The men hailed him as he entered the room. “Pilus Prior Bellus!” Soldiers scrambled from mats, buckling and lacing as they found their lines. There was a solemnity among them this morning. They felt yesterday’s failures as well and desired an opportunity to make amends.

“We have been given new orders, men.” They looked at him, expectant. He paused, his gaze taking in the faces of these men
who trusted him not only in battle, but who came to him with their joys and heartaches as well. How many of them had he talked through the news of a girl who had married someone else while her soldier marched through foreign lands? He had slapped their backs upon their promotions, gripped their arms at the deaths of their parents.

“Our new assignment—”he hesitated on the edge of decision, knowing that professional death overhung his every choice—“Our new assignment is to take the harbor.” Across the chamber chins lifted, chests expanded.

Once committed, his words came in a rush. “By midday today, we will have set up a perimeter guard around both the Great Harbor and the Eunostos. We will take ships to the narrow entrances and drop anchor, there to examine every craft that enters and exits Alexandria. No one will get in or out without our knowledge. You may have heard that pirates infest the Pharos Island on the western side. We will need to establish immediate superiority over these thieves and beggars as well.”

It was done. And, he knew, so was he.

Bellus called for a meeting of the eight men of his first
contubernium
and sketched out his plan to them. Within the hour the centuria marched from the palace, intent on its new orders.

Bellus watched them go, not yet ready. The heaviness in his chest would not abate. He had dared to defy Caesar the Conqueror.

Not defy. Exercise my judgment in how best to accomplish Caesar’s goal.

But Caesar’s reference to his father ate at him. The military hero would have never suffered yesterday’s loss, nor today’s
humiliation. He prayed to the gods that his plan would restore him to Caesar’s favor.

In his tunic lay a letter, slipped to him minutes earlier by a messenger. He pulled it out and broke the seal.

From Valeria, back in Rome. He sighed and read, hoping she would say something to lift the weight. He read as he walked, in the direction of the harbor.

My dearest Lucius. How I long to have you back in Rome. I have found the most beautiful fabric with which to make my wedding robes . . .

He finished the letter. It would be unkind to leave it unread. But her words did nothing. She spoke of her clothes, of her pets, of her silly games. All the while the pressing assumption that he would marry her when he finished his military career.

She is young. She will grow in knowledge and in spirit in the years to come.

He told himself these things often, reminded himself a wife need not be his equal in things of the mind. A man could get his fill of discourse and study in the Forum. No need for it at home.

He slid the letter back into his tunic and lifted his eyes to the harbor—to the lighthouse at its outer reaches.

No more of letters or of Epicurus’s philosophy.

It was time for action. It was time to take the harbor, just as Caesar had ordered.

Well, almost.

Twelve

S
ophia paced the front hall of the lighthouse’s Base, twisting her fingers together, then prying them apart and wiping her hands down the sides of her tunic.

What was taking so long?

She had sent Ares into the city long ago. He knew the back roads and alleys, and the people who frequented them. He could find someone for the task she required.

Last night’s plan to have Cleopatra use her influence with Caesar had failed. Sosigenes would not be released, and if anything, Sophia had drawn more attention to the scholars and to her lighthouse than she would have wished.

And so it was left to her to find another solution.

She put her plan into action as soon as the sun rose, filling a sack with enough money to purchase the help of disreputable characters and passing it to Ares with whispered instructions.

Do what you must to free him from prison. Bring him to me. Take care that no one sees you come here.

After that she had no plan. Only to hear Sosigenes’s important news and find a way to keep him safe. She stood now at the entrance, looking over the island.

The Base, the platform level of the lighthouse, housed over two hundred rooms in the corridors that formed a huge square at the tip of Pharos Island. In the center of the courtyard formed by the four corridors, the lighthouse itself began its ascent, with the ramp that spiraled upward. On this south side of the Base, the entrance led out to the heptastadion, and paths branched off in eastern and western directions to the
small village that had been part of this island since before the time of Alexander.

Sophia had a clear view across the island and the causeway, but she saw no sign of Ares or Sosigenes. She returned to her pacing of the South Wing. She ran her hand along the stone corridor and trailed her fingers over a wooden door that led to an unused storage room. The dim light of the front hall did not reach into the shadowy corners of the doorway.

Back to the entrance, to squint into the sunlight, searching the heptastadion again. Villagers came and went. Some on foot, some in two-wheeled carts pulled by mangy horses. She could hear the far-off shouts of the village below her, the village that teemed with a community of people living together and loving each other.

To her left, the Great Harbor was fully into its business of the day. Across the blue water a golden sun-path sparkled, like a road inviting her to join the city. It seemed there were people in every direction she looked from her isolated position on the island.

And then she saw him. Ares, cracking a whip over the back of a horse, from his place at the front of a large wooden wagon.

Why a wagon?

She used her hand to shield her eyes and waited for them to reach the end of the heptastadion. Her heel beat an impatient rhythm against the stones.

Sosigenes was not with him. She prayed to the gods that he was in the wagon.

Ares jumped from the rickety vehicle, the switch still in his hands. The horse pawed at the ground and snorted. A canvas had been stretched and tacked over the back of the vehicle, making
its load a mystery. Ares searched the area around the lighthouse entrance.

“Where is he? Did you get him out?”

Ares nodded once. “He is here.” He inclined his head to the wagon and smiled. “And I have a surprise for you.”

Sophia frowned and hurried to the back of the wagon. “You know I hate surprises.”

“Not this one.” He joined her. “You’ll want to kiss me for this one, Abbas.”

“We shall see about that.”

A crude nail poked through the canvas into the wagon’s splintered side. She yanked the canvas away and revealed part of the wagon’s load.

It was enough.

Four white-haired men lay on their backs, grinning up at her.

“Sosigenes! Archippos! Ares, what—how many of you are there?” She attempted to pull the canvas farther.

Sosigenes propped himself on his bony elbows. “All of us, Sophia. The whole Council. All twelve.”

“What are you doing here?”

“Where else would we go?”

Ares appeared smiling at her elbow, but she felt more inclined to slap him than kiss him. “What am I supposed to do with them?”

Sosigenes peered over her shoulder, toward the bustling village. “For now, I should think you would get us out of this wagon, and somewhere unseen.”

Sophia snorted and yanked the canvas to cover again its ludicrous cargo. “Circle it to the lighthouse entrance,” she said to Ares. “And be quick about it!”

Within a few minutes, the twelve top scholars in all of Greece stood in the front hall of the Base.

“You have more than enough room here, Sophia,” Sosigenes said. “We can continue our studies—”

“You cannot stay here!” Sophia laughed, but the older man did not appear amused. “It is impossible. I live here alone, except for the servants. That is how it must remain. Besides, Caesar would certainly come here to find you first, when he learns that I am your biggest patron.”

The other men murmured together at the side of the corridor. It was clear that none of them wished Caesar to know their whereabouts.

“Sophia”—Sosigenes gripped her arm—“I must speak with you.”

Finally
. “Yes. Ares, take the Council to the kitchen, find them something to eat. Bring the noon meal to my chambers for Sosigenes and myself.”

Sosigenes followed her through the courtyard to the lighthouse, then up the ramp to her private chambers. He was huffing by the time they reached her door, and she remembered his weak lungs.

“You can rest here awhile, Sosigenes. Ares will bring food and wine, and you can tell me of this important news that you spoke of with such urgency.”

She led the older man in and settled him on one of her couches. He was as lean as the day she had met him, but the effort of the climb seemed to show itself in the creases of his face. He stretched his long legs over the couch, reclined against a sandcolored cushion and sighed.

Sophia patted his arm and waited. Sosigenes loved to present his ideas dramatically. He would need to catch his breath first.

A lock of his white hair fell down across his eye, and Sophia pushed it aside.

The old scholar had been her husband’s mentor, all those years ago, when she had been young and in love and thought the world would always treat her gently. Sosigenes had stood at Kallias’s side, marveling over the younger man’s calculations, cheering him as he developed the most extraordinary mechanism the world had yet seen. It had all been done in secrecy, with the knowledge that there were some who would go to great lengths to obtain his findings. Even Sophia, when she would bring Kallias his lunch of bread and cheese in the Museum, would have to stand on her toes and peer over Kallias’s shoulder to get a glimpse of his work.

Then came the day when Kallias rushed home, swept her off her feet, and twirled her in circles, shouting, “It works! It truly works, my love!”

Sophia closed her eyes, tasting the memory of that day. It had been the beginning of the end, but she had not known it then.

Sosigenes gripped her arm and she opened her eyes.

“I have rebuilt it.” His eyes held steady on hers.

She shook her head. “Don’t speak to me in riddles, Sosigenes.”

“I speak plainly. I have rebuilt it. Kallias’s mechanism. The Proginosko.”

“Impossible!”

He laughed. “Kallias had a brilliant mind, Sophia. But did you think he was the only one in all the world capable of such a feat?”

She stood, unwilling to remain still. “Perhaps not, but you—”

He smiled up at her. “You forget I was there, for the years that he worked on it.”

“But you always said that you never could have built it. And when we lost him—”

“We lost everything. It is true. But always, all these years, I have worked on the idea when there was time. Hopeful that someday I would find the key . . .”

Sophia was pacing now. “And you have?”

“Almost. I was almost finished when those barbarians rounded us up and chased us from the Museum. The next thing I knew, I was in a cell simply because I refused to concoct a better way for them to attack us.”

“And the Proginosko? Where is it?”

He laughed. “Your concern for my well-being is touching, Sophia.”

“Don’t be a fool, Sosigenes. Who do you think paid to break you out of there?”

He lowered his eyes. “My apologies.”

Sophia bent to the couch and squeezed his hand. “No, no. I am sorry. It is just—I cannot believe—”

“It is well-hidden, Sophia. Kallias’s legacy.” He laughed. “Unless the Romans develop a deep appreciation of Lucretius’s lesser works buried in the Library. No one will find it.”

“You said that it was almost finished?”

“It is still in need of testing and perhaps some small adjusting. But in essence, it is complete.”

“How much longer?”

“Two months. I must get enough readings from the various moon phases to be sure.”

Ares’s knuckle-beating on the door caused Sophia to jump. He didn’t wait to be invited but pushed the door open and entered with a tray overflowing with meats and cheeses. “Those
old men can eat!” he said, shaking his head. “It was all I could do to tear this much away for the two of you.”

Sosigenes laughed and lifted his head. “Much sustenance is needed to fuel the mind, my boy.”

Sophia took the tray from Ares and set it on her desk. She waved him out of the room with a flick of her hand and crossed to close the door behind him. She turned and leaned her back against it and frowned at Sosigenes. “It is too long.”

“Since I have eaten?” He pulled himself to his feet. “I would agree.”

“Two months. Too long for you to stay in Alexandria. Not with Caesar looking for you.”

Sosigenes went to the food on her desk. “The One God has long had His hand on me, Sophia. He will protect me still.”

Sophia snorted. “You talk of your ‘One God’ as though he cares for people personally.”

Sosigenes lifted his eyebrows. “Yes, and He even cares for you, Sophia.” He tore a piece of bread from a small loaf. “But the Roman cares only about warfare, I am afraid. I doubt he would even see the value of the Proginosko.”

“We must get you out of Alexandria. Today. Before he thinks to look for you here.”

“How?” The scholar popped a grilled chestnut into his mouth and chewed it slowly.

Sophia went to the wall of windows and studied the harbor. “You must sail to Athens.”

“And what of my colleagues? Shall I leave them behind to be conscripted into building siege works that violate every bit of conscience they have?”

Sophia pressed her forehead against the blurry glass. “No.
You must all go.” She turned to him. “I will pay for passage for all of you. Do not worry.” She crossed to the door, yanked it open and yelled for Ares, who was still on the ramp.