doctors deferred to the gods to intercede when someone was sick, dying, or dead. Prayer, amulets, and incense showed respect by keeping the body intact. The cutting and exploring that Herophilos specialized at was repugnant to Kafele and the other priests.
Victim 12, a stonemason, was killed yesterday and his body was discovered this morning. This was the first murder victim Herophilos was asked to examine because the other 11 corpses were given to Ptahhotep. The cadaver was lying on a wooden table that had, Archimedes noticed, countless pink stains and gouges from the previous work of Herophilos. It reminded Archimedes of the mottled spear shaft that Ajax held. The man’s muscles were now stiff as leather from the effects of rigor mortis.
Herophilos wiped his hands on a linen cloth and then draped it over the head of a nearby statue of Apollo. “You may not want to watch this Apollo, I’m going to begin the dissection.” Among his many other duties, Apollo was the god of medicine. “Callimachus, would you hand me a scalpel?”
Callimachus appeared unmoved by the imminent spectacle. He had observed Herophilos’ dissections before, but this was a first for Archimedes. Callimachus was holding a candle and he hovered it over a table with bronze medical instruments. “Do you want the wide blade or narrow?”
“ Wide. This poor soul isn’t going to flinch much,” Herophilos said.
“ Must I stay for this?” Kafele asked. He wasn’t squeamish about blood, he saw it often enough with animal sacrifices. It was just that cutting into something as sacred as the human body offended his religious sense.
Herophilos was slicing through the leather toughness of the skin and first layers of muscle in the chest. “Go if you want. It was Ptolemy who told you to be here. Besides, I’ve got Callimachus and his curious student to assist.”
“ You may come with me young man,” Kafele said to Archimedes, “and get away from this slaughter. This is an affront to the gods. We already know what is killing these men.”
“ Slaughter?” Herophilos angrily asked Kafele. “This man is dead. He is already with the gods. You Egyptians didn’t even know the brain was the center of human intellect. It was through my examinations that I discovered the brain controls the senses. You butchers throw the brain to the cats during your mummification! Slaughter. By Apollo, what do you call your mummification?”
Kafele did not answer. He looked at Archimedes. “Would you like to leave this unholy place with me?”
“ No sir,” Archimedes answered politely. He understood Kafele was only following the beliefs of his culture. When Archimedes told Berenike he had some background in medicine, it was only from scrolls and lectures from his teachers. Not many people truly understood, and fewer ever saw, the inside of the human body. Like Kafele believed, it was up to the gods to know what was going on underneath our skin.
Kafele bowed slightly and left.
“ You were right to stay, Archimedes,” Herophilos said. He bent over and continued his cutting. “Callimachus said you were a scientist and liked to work on machines. Well, step over here and examine what few men are courageous enough to learn. The human body is the world’s most marvelous machine.”
Archimedes hesitantly took two steps. He wasn’t within touching distance, but he could hear the scalpel make a scratching sound as it sliced through the layers of rigid muscle. The cold, pale body glistened from olive oil that was rubbed on it to keep it from drying and decaying. As Archimedes neared, the smell became more intense. It was a heavy, sweet smell he would never forget.
“ The tongue and eyes do not suggest any poisoning,” Herophilos said, “as best I can determine from this state of decay. There are no cuts or broken bones, no snake bites on his legs. Thank Apollo that Ptolemy finally let you bring a body here instead of giving it to that fool Ptahhotep. Those
Victim 12, a stonemason, was killed yesterday and his body was discovered this morning. This was the first murder victim Herophilos was asked to examine because the other 11 corpses were given to Ptahhotep. The cadaver was lying on a wooden table that had, Archimedes noticed, countless pink stains and gouges from the previous work of Herophilos. It reminded Archimedes of the mottled spear shaft that Ajax held. The man’s muscles were now stiff as leather from the effects of rigor mortis.
Herophilos wiped his hands on a linen cloth and then draped it over the head of a nearby statue of Apollo. “You may not want to watch this Apollo, I’m going to begin the dissection.” Among his many other duties, Apollo was the god of medicine. “Callimachus, would you hand me a scalpel?”
Callimachus appeared unmoved by the imminent spectacle. He had observed Herophilos’ dissections before, but this was a first for Archimedes. Callimachus was holding a candle and he hovered it over a table with bronze medical instruments. “Do you want the wide blade or narrow?”
“ Wide. This poor soul isn’t going to flinch much,” Herophilos said.
“ Must I stay for this?” Kafele asked. He wasn’t squeamish about blood, he saw it often enough with animal sacrifices. It was just that cutting into something as sacred as the human body offended his religious sense.
Herophilos was slicing through the leather toughness of the skin and first layers of muscle in the chest. “Go if you want. It was Ptolemy who told you to be here. Besides, I’ve got Callimachus and his curious student to assist.”
“ You may come with me young man,” Kafele said to Archimedes, “and get away from this slaughter. This is an affront to the gods. We already know what is killing these men.”
“ Slaughter?” Herophilos angrily asked Kafele. “This man is dead. He is already with the gods. You Egyptians didn’t even know the brain was the center of human intellect. It was through my examinations that I discovered the brain controls the senses. You butchers throw the brain to the cats during your mummification! Slaughter. By Apollo, what do you call your mummification?”
Kafele did not answer. He looked at Archimedes. “Would you like to leave this unholy place with me?”
“ No sir,” Archimedes answered politely. He understood Kafele was only following the beliefs of his culture. When Archimedes told Berenike he had some background in medicine, it was only from scrolls and lectures from his teachers. Not many people truly understood, and fewer ever saw, the inside of the human body. Like Kafele believed, it was up to the gods to know what was going on underneath our skin.
Kafele bowed slightly and left.
“ You were right to stay, Archimedes,” Herophilos said. He bent over and continued his cutting. “Callimachus said you were a scientist and liked to work on machines. Well, step over here and examine what few men are courageous enough to learn. The human body is the world’s most marvelous machine.”
Archimedes hesitantly took two steps. He wasn’t within touching distance, but he could hear the scalpel make a scratching sound as it sliced through the layers of rigid muscle. The cold, pale body glistened from olive oil that was rubbed on it to keep it from drying and decaying. As Archimedes neared, the smell became more intense. It was a heavy, sweet smell he would never forget.
“ The tongue and eyes do not suggest any poisoning,” Herophilos said, “as best I can determine from this state of decay. There are no cuts or broken bones, no snake bites on his legs. Thank Apollo that Ptolemy finally let you bring a body here instead of giving it to that fool Ptahhotep. Those
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