Ivan Yefremov - Thais of Athens

The Spartans walked behind the thoughtful Thais, not daring to break her reverie.

Could it be that the sun-filled beauty, created and assembled in Hellas, would vanish in Erebus, like a glittering flow into an unknown chasm? And what of the Egypt she tried so hard to reach? Would it too become a kingdom of shadows, dissolving in the new life like a memory of the past? Did she act rashly by leaving Hellas? Well, the way to Athens was not yet closed. She still had her house there and …

Thais never finished the thought. With a careless toss of her head, she ran down a small path, weaving between rocky outcroppings, not heeding her surprised companions. She stopped only when she saw the harbor with its peacefully rocking ships. Soon the great sea would separate her from all things beloved that were left in Hellas. The person closest to her would be Egesikhora, the friend of her half-childish dreams and grownup disappointments, the companion in her success.

The helmsman said there were four thousand stadiums to the shores of Libya. Then they were to sail another thousand along the shore to Naucratis. With good wind that would make a ten day trip. The Egyptians would transport them on a different set of ships, sending them up from the great delta of the Nile. There was no fewer than a thousand stadiums from Memphis up the river.

Aphrodite Euploa, the goddess of sailors, was unusually merciful to Thais. Weather akin to the clear halcyon days preceding autumn equinox was rare for the end of Boedromion. The ships were in the middle of the broad and noisy sea when suddenly the stillness was replaced by a weak and scorching Not. The rowers were exhausted because of having to row against the wind, and Eositeus ordered a respite till evening, saving the energy of his warriors. He purposely hadn’t brought slaves with them, ensuring the ships could carry his entire large detachment.

Smooth waves rippled over the blue surface of the sea, dissolving into a blue mist in the distance, rocking the motionless ships like ducks on a windy lake. A hot wind, weak but steady, blew from Libyan shores, bringing the breath of savage desserts two thousand stadiums away to this place in the middle of the sea. The same distance separated the ships from Cretan shores.

Egesikhora was terrified, peering into the midnight gaps between waves, trying to imagine the terrible, unmeasured chasm of the sea depths below. Thais glanced at her friend mischievously, the latter feeling so hot she had lost her usual look of a victorious goddess. People sprawled lazily under a tent on the deck. The stronger and more impatient ones stood under the woven willow mats fastened above the sides of the ship, trying to find some coolness in the breath of the Libyan Not, under whose light push the ships slowly retreated to the north.

Eositeus sat in his armchair at the stern, grim and unhappy about the delay. His assistants lay around him on reed mats, like simple soldiers.

Thais beckoned quietly to Menedem. “Can you hold an oar for me?” she asked, then explained to the puzzled athlete what she wanted to do.

Menedem pulled the huge oar deeper into the rowlock so the paddle was perpendicular to the board. Under the surprised glances of everyone on deck, Thais shed her clothes and walked along the external trim. She held onto the woven mats, then stepped onto the oar and paused there as she got used to the rhythm of the waves. Then she suddenly pushed away from the board. With the skill of a Finikian tightrope walker, Thais balanced on the oar, ran to the end with small steps and jumped into the sea, vanishing into the depths of a slick dark wave.

“She is mad!” Eositeus shouted, while Hesiona dashed to the board with a desperate scream.

Thais’ black head, tightly wrapped in a traditional ribbon of a Lemnian hairstyle, appeared at the top of the way. Rising from the water, the hetaera blew a kiss to the Spartans and burst out laughing.

Eositeus, forgetting everything, rose up in amazement and went to the board, accompanied by Egesikhora. “What is this?” he cried. “Is your black-haired Athenian a daughter of Poseidon himself? But her eyes are not blue.”

“There is no need to seek descendants of gods among us mortals,” the Spartan girl said with a laugh. “You saw her mysterious likeness with those who abandoned Cretan palaces a thousand years ago. Her ancestral blood came alive in her through the Cretan mother. Cretan Nearchus told me they weren’t at all afraid of the sea.”

“We Spartans are skilled in the art of the sea beyond all other people.”

“But not beyond Cretans. We fight the sea, are wary of it, avoiding its cunning arms at all costs. Cretans are friends with the sea and are always ready to be with it, whether in joy or in sadness. They understand the sea like a lover instead of studying it like an enemy.”

“And Nearchus told you all this? I heard rumors that you two have exchanged the oath of the Three-faced Goddess. He discarded you like a useless toy and sailed off into the sea while you were left to weep on the shore. If he and I ever meet …”

The chief of soldiers didn’t finish, his words frozen by the hetaera’s darkened gaze. She lifted her chin, her nostrils flaring, and suddenly ripped off her head wrap, tossing the mass of her golden hair over her back. The moment she lifted her hands to the fastenings of her chiton, Eositeus knew her intentions and tried to stop her.

“What are you doing, mad woman? You swim worse than Thais.”

“But I will still follow her, trusting the Cretan instincts, considering that none of my brave compatriots seem to overcome their fears. They seem to prefer gossip, much like the Athenians.”

Eositeus flinched as if from a whip, cast a furious gaze upon his lover and barreled overboard without another word. The Spartan’s huge body fell awkwardly into the gap between waves, making a dull and loud splash. Thais, who had observed the scene between her friend and the chief, glided under the waves to help Eositeus. She realized that the Laconian chief, while he was an excellent swimmer, didn’t know how to jump from a great height into the rolling sea.

Eositeus, stunned and rolled over by a wave, felt someone nudge him from the depths. Once on the surface, he found himself on the crest of a rising wave. He breathed in, then saw Thais’ merry face bobbing nearby. Annoyed by his own clumsiness, and stung even more by the thought of the great swimmer Nearchus, the Spartan pushed away the hand offered by the Athenian hetaera. He finally regained his confidence and started swimming away with increasingly powerful strokes. With a battle cry, dozens of soldiers followed their chief from his and other ships.

“Get her!” the soldiers shouted. They gathered into a chain and surrounded Thais like a legendary Nereid. The Athenian swam farther and farther away, gliding lightly while the soldiers chased awkwardly after her.

Eositeus, having cooled down in the sea, became an energetic leader once again. “Stop her! The imp will drown all my warriors!” he yelled, rising above water and making energetic gestures signaling Thais to return.

She understood and turned back, swimming directly into the semicircle of Spartans trying to catch her. Accompanied by their victorious cries, Thais found herself in a tight circle of her pursuers. Dozens of arms reached for her from all directions.

Suddenly, the hetaera vanished. The soldiers dashed this way and that, diving after her here and there, but Thais, who dove the deepest, managed to swim a quarter of a stadium underwater and appeared far beyond the line of her pursuers. While they turned and gained speed, the Athenian was already near the ship, clutching at the rope tossed to her from above.

Menedem pulled her up to the deck, much to the disappointment of the “hunters”. To add to their embarrassment, many of the swimmers were so exhausted by the chase and the struggle with the waves that they too had to be lifted up to the ships. Eositeus, tired and out of breath, but no longer angry, climbed up a rope ladder and walked to Thais. She was being wrapped and dried by Hesiona, using an Egyptian sheet.