Pharos of Alexandria

There it is again…

I strain hard as I’d been doing each night since my awakening a week ago, trying to catch the music drifting in the sea breeze. A song without words, hauntingly familiar yet strange. A melody – no, it was more than that. It was an enchantment that no mortal man could resist.

I knew the singers, or at least, I knew of them from my father, the noble Sostratus of Cnidus who had learnt of them from none other than my God-King, his Divine Majesty Ptolemy I Soter, may he rejoice forever among the Gods.

As ever, I mourn my lost Pharoh, but soon my spirit lifts to the skies when I think of his son, my Lord and King, his Divine Majesty Ptolemy II Philadelphus. My father Sostratus conceived me, but it was my Pharaoh Ptolemy the 2^nd who awakened me. Dare I call him father too?

Oh, what a splendid wakening that was. Undaunted by the narrow spiralling staircase, he trod each of the 770 steps to reach my lofty pinnacle to gaze upon his kingdom from 380 feet high before turning to touch the blazing torch to my heart.

I roused and flared and roared as my flames rose high and bright. They tell me that on a good day, you can see my light from 30 miles away.

For I am the Pharos of Alexandria, a marvel of the world, and I have the honour of guiding all mariners to safe harbour.

This twilight I listen closely, hoping once again to hear the music dancing in the wind. I’m no mortal, but I long for the unseen singers and their haunting melody. But there is no singing tonight, no refrain wafting in the wind. Instead, I hear rustling and the tumble of small stones.

‘I can’t bear it anymore. It’s been over a week.’

The channels in my building blocks carry the softly spoken words clearly up to me. I recognise their voices.

An incredible joy suffuses me. It’s the singers. They’ve come to me! Come to sing their enchantment beside me.

But no. They aren’t singing tonight.

‘All I’ve had is fish. My stomach is in knots. I crave human flesh…’ I hear one say.

‘Mine too, sister. And it’s all this thing’s fault.’ I sense the vicious jab on the marble that make up my skin.

Shocked to my very core, I peer down at the three winged creatures staring up at me. Even in the night's gloom lightened only by my blaze, I can see the beauty of their upturned faces and the allure of their form. One picks up a rock and throws it hard enough to chip my marble coat. Then, as one, their wings unfurl and effortlessly they lift themselves to hover before me, glowering into my blazing heart.

So, it is true, I think, that legend of my Pharoah’s lands they now call Greece.

I see them clearly now, these women of unsurpassed beauty with magnificent gold tipped wings, lustrous curls floating in the wind and long shapely legs that end in eagle’s feet.

Unbelievingly, I watch their lips stretch in a snarl, revealing a mouthful of canines – teeth designed to rip and tear at meat, preferably human.

One of the Sirens lifts a pale, graceful arm and points. ‘We need to douse that flame.’

How can a voice like that utter those words? Every stone and mortar of my being churns in horror and revulsion.

‘Tomorrow,’ said another. ‘We’ll return tomorrow night and kill that fire.’

With my flames pulsing to the pounding of my heart, I watch them depart.

What can I do? How do I stop them? Yes, my slaves could rekindle my fire, but it wouldn’t be the flame lit by my Pharaoh. Besides, even one night without my guiding light could mean death to the many sailors lured to the rocks by the Sirens’ songs.

With horror I realise they might also kill my two slaves whom I had grown fond of even in the short time I knew them, especially Ankhu, who sometimes brought his two children to see me. What if the Sirens killed the little ones too? Helpless, I despaired through the night.

At dawn, as my lord Ra began his journey across the sky carrying the sun in his solar barque, my two slaves came to clear the ashes from my grate. Usually, I greeted them with two small flares, but not this morning.

Worried, they scrabble among my embers and sigh with relief to find them still glowing. They know the rule—my fire must never be allowed to die. They are tasked to fan my cinders throughout the day to keep them glowing and ready to spring to life each night.

‘We need to bring in double the bundles of papyrus roots today to build a much bigger fire,’ said Ankhu. ‘Master said there’ll be a storm tonight.’

A storm! That’s it… The Gods are with me. I have my answer.

While the slaves trek up and down stacking my fuel, I pray to each of the deities of my land. I call their names and repeat the incantations recited by the priests on my inauguration. I beg for their help; I prepare myself and I wait.

The sun is low on the horizon and just as I had hoped and prayed, the Sirens appear silhouetted against the burnished sky, each carrying an enormous cauldron.

I watch them approach closer and I smile.

What they do not know, or suspect, is that I am much more than a guiding light.

I am a weapon, too.

In the domed pavilion beneath my brazier, is a great burnished bronze mirror that reflects the setting sun. Although it was now stowed, it still caught the dying sunrays, magnified and reflected them straight back.

The intense rays target the wings of the leading Siren and in seconds set her afire. She drops the cauldron, shrieks and flaps her wings hard to put out the fire. But instead of extinguishing them, her wings fuel the flames. Desperately batting at her wings, she twists and turns, but her efforts are futile. Her sisters scream and cry and circle her in vain. With her feathers gone, she tumbles in the wind and crashes down on the rocks at my feet.

The sickening thud shocks her siblings into silence. Choosing prudence over valour, they depart, but I know the loss of their sister would not deter them for long. They will return tonight, but with more caution now.

My first plan had only been partly successful. My next lay entirely in the hands of my gods.

The sky is dark as my God Ra enters the underworld carrying the sun on his barque. And there he will once again battle with Apophis, that evil serpent and his minions who would obstruct the might Ra’s passage. But as ever, my Lord will triumph and ride across the sky to bring us a new day.

Storm clouds gather overhead, clashing cymbals of thunder and the choppy waves lash at my feet. My fire blazes high and true and still I wait, my gaze fixed on the swirling clouds.

And suddenly, there they are. This time, accompanied by three more sisters, all five armed with gigantic cauldrons.

My heart thumps as each one approaches as near to my fire as they dare. With a hefty swing, the first Siren launches the contents of her vessel into my very core. A thick mix of seaweed and seawater lands on my heart.

I scream.

The second, third and the other Sirens follow in quick succession.

Oh, the agony! The unbearable pain as steam hisses and rises in a dense cloud. It shrouds and dampens my blaze. I cry out to the Gods. Why aren’t they here? Why do they not answer me in my hour of need?

But only more pain awaits me. With barely a pause, the Sirens return. Again and again, they swing full cauldrons into my hearth.

As my fire dwindles, they approach ever closer, no longer afraid.

Their target – my heart – exposed.

I am dying.

The slap of sandalled feet sound at the top of the stairs.

‘No, no',’ I shout. ‘Go away Ankhu…’

But with a cry of horror, he drops the bundles of papyrus roots and rushes to me. Ignoring the circling creatures, he grabs the steaming seaweed with his bare hands and flings them aside.

The Sirens laugh. One darts in, clutches Ankhu in her claws and flies out of my tower to hover before me with her jaw full of canine teeth clamped on his neck. Two of her siblings grab a leg each, the other two his flailing arms.

I weep and call for my God Seth. Thunder shakes the earth, drowning out Ankhu’s agonised screams and the Sirens’ laughter.

They stretch him wide and when I beg them to stop, they tear him apart.

His blood rains upon the earth. I watch horrified as each Siren devours her prize.

Ankhu is dead, his children orphaned. Soon it will be my turn next.

My devoted slave had been an unwitting sacrifice to the Gods. I plead with them to accept his soul and pray that he is enough to satisfy their blood lust.

But for me, he was more than I could bear. I could not, would not, let Ankhu’s sacrifice be in vain.

With my dying breath and all the strength left in me, I blaze my last glowing ember and shriek for the Gods. But they don’t answer.

In despair, I blaspheme – Oh, heavenly Seth, do you even exist? Show yourself now…

Lightning splits the sky in a blinding flash and a hundred bolts zigzag the dark expanse with barely a pause. They seek and find the iron tips of my brazier, multiply and shoot out again into the night.

And every bolt finds a target.

I rejoice as the Sirens light up like fire angels. I laugh as they burn. Their shrieks are louder than the roar of the sea and the crash of thunder. Finally, when their blazing wing feathers wither, they tumble to the rocky ground. I watch the black, charred skeletons sizzle in the waves.

Too exhausted to revel, I wait for the ashes and the damp to smother me, to relieve me of the excruciating pain of saltwater trickling through the minutest of gaps as it seeks to snuff out the last of my spark.

Death tonight would be a reprieve, but then Ankhu’s sacrifice would be for naught. That was unthinkable.

I would not allow the fire ignited by my divine Pharaoh to die.

Ignoring the pain, I shroud my last ember against the pervading enemy and defy the fearsome Osiris. One day, I would be held accountable for my insolence. But that day of reckoning will not be today.

That’s when I realise Ankhu had done more than give up his life. He had pulled away enough seaweed to allow the wind to stoke my flames. The seawater evaporates and the kelp dries to serve as fuel.

The Gods are with me. I live, I breathe, I blaze once more.

Betrayers and besiegers beware. Challenge me at your peril, for I am protected by the all-powerful Seth and blessed by none other than the almighty Ra.

I am Pharos, guardian of the gateway to Alexandria.

*****