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willow branch to Archimedes’ backside. Archimedes never held a grudge against the teacher because he deserved the punishment.
    But this was different. He did not gamble in front of the temple and did not intend anyone else to. Slapping a man’s face was an insult; it is what a hysterical girl does. A whipping would have been better. The pain of the slap was gone, but the humiliation and anger still burned in him.
    For five years Archimedes had anticipated the day he would walk in triumph up the steps of the School of Alexandria. New students were handed a ceremonial scroll that symbolized the world’s accumulated knowledge inside the library. For one week on a heaving ship, the thought of earning that scroll kept him sane. Now he was being escorted in humiliation by temple guards and was going to start his schooling in disgrace.
    Seven shadows glided across the white dirt road in silence, except for the crunch of sand grinding under the wheels of the new cart. In the hot, arid winds of Egypt, Archimedes’ cut dried quickly. Palm trees offered only sporadic relief from the relentless sun. Occasionally a stray dog would wander close but Ankhef would send it away with a kick. They passed a bakery with the warm, heady smell of yeast and barley heavy in the air. A woman was bartering down the price of several loaves, contending that they were a couple of days old.
    It was near mid-day, and most people sought shelter in their homes or under awnings. Two women and a girl were talking in the street, but stopped and stared as Ipuwer and his guards walked by. The little girl pointed at Archimedes and asked her mom, “Is he dangerous?” The mom shushed the girl and pulled her aside.
    Archimedes looked dissolutely at the dust his sandals kicked up while his insides churned like he was back on the ship. He actually wished he was back on the ship, where the nausea was caused by powerful waves. That sick feeling was natural and temporary. Now he walked in shame and his queasy insides were caused by a violent priest. This feeling could prove eternal if the school rejected him. Would the teachers accept him once they found out he insulted a priest? Could he really end up fodder for the crows? He couldn’t imagine how disappointed his father would be.
    When Archimedes lifted his head again everyone had stopped at the front lawn of the school. He was finally here. And he wished he wasn’t.
    The entrance to the school was faced with large Corinthian columns. The marble building was rectangular with a large dome in the center. Leading up to the entrance were marble steps. Surrounding the grounds was a park with statues of famous Greeks situated in it. Everything was finely manicured, with rounded bushes, stone walkways, and beautiful fountains. The only sounds came from the song birds darting in the trees.
    Archimedes was like a sapling surrounded by four stout trees, one guard at each corner. Behind was Ankhef and in front of the small assembly was Ipuwer.
    Ipuwer scanned the exterior and finally noticed a tall, slender man standing alone on the street examining the school. The man had wavy black hair and was dressed in a full Greek tunic. His hands were clasped behind his back and the heat did not seem to bother him. A small, spotted cat was coiling around the man’s leg but not getting any attention. Ipuwer strode over to him.
    “ Get someone out here I can talk to,” Ipuwer said. He learned to be abrupt from Ptahhotep. But the man did not reply, except to walk a few steps away to get a better view of the school.
    “ Do you teach the mute?! I represent Ptahhotep, First Prophet of the God Horus. Get someone out here…now!”
    The cat darted away and the man turned to Ipuwer. He looked at Ipuwer as a man would look at a bug about to be swatted. He leaned sideways to look past him and scanned the four guards and then his eyes settled, and stayed, on Archimedes.
    The man extended his arm to push Ipuwer aside so he could walk a