Ivan Yefremov - Thais of Athens

Eris became much like her mistress. The two of them spent their days sprawled naked on leather cushions, resting their chins on their crossed arms and silently staring at the wall, which was decorated with patterns of blue paint.

Lysippus was hiding somewhere in the bowels of the temple, and Ehephilos was taken away so they could “beat the love out of him”, his teacher said, somewhat crassly.

A few days passed. Or perhaps an entire month? The regular flow of time no longer existed for Thais. Many things connected with the past, present and future lost their meanings. All this became serenely mixed in Thais’ newly balanced heart, without grief or enthusiasm, expectation or joy, piercing memories or regrets of things that could not be.

Lysippus reappeared one day, chuckling at something. He found them reclining lazily, side by side, snacking on cakes with cream with great gusto. Peering at them carefully, the sculptor found no change except dimples on their cheeks and true Olympian calm.

“Why are you laughing, teacher?” Thais asked indifferently.

“Healed!” Lysippus laughed openly.

“Who is healed? We are?”

“You have nothing to be healed from. Ehephilos. He decided to stay at Eridu.”

Thais became interested and rose on one elbow. Eris glanced at Lysippus.

“He wants to stay at Eridu and make statues of these whatever they are, the slant-eyed Liliths.”

“Then he really is healed,” Thais said, laughing. “But you are losing a student, Lysippus.”

“He is not lost for the art and that is the main thing,” the sculptor replied. “By the way, they want to buy the Anadiomena by Cleophrades. They offer double its weight in gold, which is now more valuable than silver. One stater, which was worth two drachma, is now worth a four drachma owl. Many Helenian merchants are going bankrupt.”

“Then sell it,” Thais said calmly.

Lysippus stared at Thais in amazement. “What of Alexander’s wish?”

“I think when Alexander returns, he will have too much on his hands to think about the Anadiomena. Remember the enormous number of people waiting for him in Babylon. And in addition to people there are mountains of papers, petitions and reports from his gigantic empire. Especially if he also adds India to it.”

“He won’t,” Lysippus said with certainty.

“I have no idea how much the Anadiomena is worth.”

“A lot. They probably will not give as much as my teacher Polycleitus’ Diadumenus was paid. The entire world knows that it was bought for one hundred talants, and that was in the olden days when money was worth more. The Anadiomena is so beautiful that, including the value of silver, she will sell for no less than thirty talants.”

“That is a huge price. What do sculptors charge in general?” Thais asked in amazement.

“For models and classic subjects a good sculptor takes two thousand drachmas, for statues and bas-reliefs it can be up to ten thousand.”

“But that is only a talant and a half.”

“Can one compare the exceptional creation by Cleophrades to good but ordinary work?” the sculptor objected. “Should we hold back with the Anadiomena then?”

“Let us wait,” Thais agreed, thinking of something else. Lysippus was surprised by the absence of strong emotion the mention of Alexander used to cause.

The Athenian picked up a silver bell given to her by the elder priest and shook it. He appeared a few minutes later and stopped in the doorway. Thais invited him to sit down and inquired about the health of his younger associate.

“He is gravely ill. He is not fit to perform the high Tantric rituals with her,” he said, nodding toward Eris.

“I have a big favor to ask, priest. It is time for us to leave the temple, and I wish to test myself one more time.”

“Speak.”

“I wish to receive a kiss of the snake, like your ruler of serpents.”

“She is mad. You made her into manolis, a maenadae consumed by insanity!” Lysippus exclaimed, yelling so loudly the priest looked at him with reproach.

“You feel capable of performing this terrible ritual?” the Indian asked seriously.

“Yes,” Thais said with certainty and the careless courage Lysippus remembered from long before.

“You are killing her,” the sculptor told the priest. “You are a murderer if you allow this.”

The priest shook his head. “There is a reason she has this desire. One must measure his strengths before carrying out life’s tasks, for life is an art and not cunning. It is for open eyes and hearts. It is possible that she will perish. Then such is her predetermined Karma, to stop her life at this age. If she does not perish, the trial will multiply her strength. So it shall be.”

“Me, too.” Eris stood next to Thais.

“You may come too. I had no doubt of your wish.”

Lysippus, speechless with terror and indignation.

Thais and Eris descended into the dungeon. The ruler of snakes undressed them and took off all their jewelry, then rubbed them down with milk and corn lily and put aprons on them. The naturally musical Athenian took but a few minutes to learn the simple tune. Eros took more time, but as they were both dancers they captured the rhythm right away.

The ruler of snakes summoned her monster and Thais went in first for the deadly game. When the serpent rose, tipping its scaled head forward, Thais heard whispering in a strange language, pressed her lips to the monster’s nose, and backed away swiftly. The serpent dashed after her, spilling poison all over her apron, but Thais was already out of his reach, albeit shivering from the experience.

The serpent was given some milk, and Eris stepped forth. The black priestess decided not to wait and as soon as the serpent rose on his tail, she smooched him loudly on the nose and pulled away, not getting a single drop of poison on herself. The ruler of snakes cried out in surprise and the enraged monster threw himself after her. The Indian woman escaped his fangs, splashed milk into his face from the second cup in her hands, shoved Thais and Eris behind the grate and sighed with relief.

Thais kissed her and gave her an expensive bracelet. The same evening the elder priest gave Eris an incredibly rare necklace made of the fangs of the largest snakes ever captured in the Indian jungle. Thais also received a valuable gift: a necklace made of talons of black gryphs, set in gold and strung on a chain.

“This is an attribute of a guardian of secret paths leading to the east, beyond the mountains,” the priest explained.

“What about mine?” Eris asked.

“As appropriate, yours is a symbol of courage, stamina and giving,” the Indian replied. looking at the black priestess with much greater respect than before.

In addition, the elder priest gave Thais a goblet of transparent chalcedony with the snake dance carved on it.

A horseman on a sweaty horse rushed in from the Euphrates. Hesiona was waiting at the ancient pier, along with a thirty oar boat, the privilege of being the wife of the fleet commander.

A short note had stated, “There is news from Nearchus and Alexander. The army is coming back. I am here to get you.”

That was enough for Lysippus, Thais and Eris. They got ready as quickly as possible and departed after a long farewell with their Indian hosts. The priests presented everyone with enormous wreaths of blue flowers.

Ehephilos climbed on the overhang of the portico and waived at the cloud of dust raised by the horses’ receding hooves.

The Helenians rode several parsangs on their tough and slender local horses without stopping.

From the distance they saw a long, reddish-brown vessel resting on the glassy waters and a linen tent erected on the tiles of the pier. The Theban rushed to meet Thais.