The Thousand - Kevin Guilfoile [113]
In his classes, Alberto described how a long-ago ship had arrived from Samos and sat at anchor for three rainy days and how the hundreds gathered on the hard sand soon became thousands as word spread that this single-masted vessel ferried a god. Some said it was Apollo himself come to address the people of Croton, who had prospered for two centuries under his protection. Others insisted he was a son of Apollo, his birth to a mortal fulfilling a prophecy by the oracle at Delphi. Still others claimed he was a spirit recently arrived from his home inside the sun or the moon.
By the time the skies cleared and he disembarked, the Crotonians knew him as Pythagoras. With help, Pythagoras mounted a short wall that protected the city from the tides. If he knew about the rumors of his divine lineage, he did nothing to dispel them. When he spoke, he pinched his white beard, as if the wavy hairs were conduits for rushing waters of great wisdom. He asked that no one repeat what he was about to say, and forbade anyone who was capable of doing so from writing down his words.
Mostly, they obeyed.
Pythagoras taught and campaigned and preached for perhaps half the day. Exactly what he said is unknown, although he likely spoke of the immortal soul and the family of man and the relationship between Earth and heaven, between the visible and the invisible. About the mathematical order—the language of music and numbers—upon which all creation was based.
When he was done, a thousand men and women abandoned their former and comfortable lives to follow him.
As the years passed, their numbers would grow even larger. They would be cited as a community, a school, a cult. Those closest to Pythagoras were known as “disciples.” They would dominate the society and politics of Croton for decades, until they were exiled from the city in a bloody purge. Pythagoras himself might have perished when his enemies set fire to a home where he was visiting, but his followers, scattered throughout the Mediterranean, would influence Western philosophy, science, mathematics, and religion for all time.
Over the centuries and millennia, they would become known as “The Thousand.”
More than anything, more than divine equations and solutions to the universe’s darkest mathematical mysteries, Alberto longed to know exactly what Pythagoras said that first day. What brilliant and inspiring words could move so many to surrender their lives, their families, their fortunes to a complete stranger? What words of inspiration could still bind their descendants to him? That was real power.
An announcement was made and then halted after a few words. Alberto returned to his seat. The bald man was whispering to the auctioneer, who nodded, and as the bald man disappeared behind the curtain, the auctioneer declared there would be no presentation of the Falcone estate. An offer had been made and accepted for all lots. The next estate would be presented in half an hour.
Cepeda found his way to the end of the row and up toward the microphone. As the auctioneer walked away, he whispered loudly, “How much?”
The auctioneer turned. “Excuse me?”
“How much did they pay? For the whole estate, how much?”
The auctioneer squinted. “Are you making a counteroffer?”
Back through the chairs and through the white curtains. The bald man was with the cashier. Alberto wanted to look over his shoulder, see what name was printed on the check, what name the bald man signed, but of course the names and organizations would be many times removed and laundered from the Thousand. Boxes inside boxes.
Alberto walked quickly back the way he’d come, following the trail of yellow signs. He slowed by the receptionist’s desk and asked if he had dropped his pen there on his way in, a black pen, a nice pen, a Waterman he’d hate to lose, and as she glanced under papers,