Ivan Yefremov - Thais of Athens

Not understanding, the hetaera started asking again, demanding to know what they were planning to do with her. One of the people came closer to her. By his voice, Thais recognized the priest who had been with the woman and spoke some Greek.

“My brothers ordered to place you — you who spoke heresy in a public forum — before the face of our god. We will let you know his might and bow before him during your last hour.”

She was aghast. “What god? What do you speak of, scoundrel?”

The priest did not reply. He turned his back on her and said a few words to his companions. All six approached the water, knelt and raised their arms. Thais understood only one thing from their loud incantations, pronounced in a singing fashion, like an anthem, “Oh, Sebek … come and take …” but that was enough.

Sudden realization made her go numb. She panicked, yelling hoarsely and weakly, then stronger and louder, screaming for Menedem, or anyone outside of the influence of these dark figures who knelt at the edge of water in a solemn prayer.

The priests rose. The one who spoke Greek said, “Yell louder so Sebek will hear. He’ll come sooner. You will not be tormented by a long wait.”

There was no mocking in the priest’s words, no gloating. Thais was overcome by utter hopelessness. It would be just as useless to beg for mercy, threaten or try to reason with these people, as it would be to ask the same of the frightful beast they served, half-animal, half-fish with absolutely no feelings. The priest studied his victim one more time then made a sign to his companions and all six departed without a sound. Thais was left alone.

She pulled forward, felt the unbreakable strength of the belts and bowed her head in desperation. Her hair covered her body and Thais was startled by its warm touch. For the first time in her life she experienced the terror of death. The closeness of her unavoidable demise turned her entire world into a tiny cluster of hope. Menedem! Menedem! He was an experienced and fearless warrior, and a passionate lover. Surely he wouldn’t leave her to the fates.

Thais could see fairly well in the dark. She looked around carefully and realized she was tied at the foot of some statue in a semicircular opening at the end of an underground hallway which led to a lake or a small arm of the river. Another giant statue was visible on the right, one of two colossal, seated statues, rising thirty elbows above water, not far from the pyramid. Thais realized that the gallery opened to the northwest, not far from the northern entrance. A small fire of hope sparked in her heart, then grew brighter and warmed her up. It was immediately dulled by the weight of terrible danger as soon as the Athenian realized there were three thousand rooms in the Labyrinth. While it might have been possible for Menedem to find where she was, it would take a lot of time. By that time the monstrous zukhoses would have ripped her into pieces and vanished in the reeds.

Thais pushed and pulled, trying to break free of the bonds, all of her young flesh protesting against her upcoming death. The tightly buckled belts sobered her, cutting painfully into her skin. Clenching her teeth, she swallowed back her sobs and started looking around again, searching for a way out.

The floor of the wider portion of the gallery sloped gently toward the narrow band of wet shore. Two thin pillars supported the overhang of the roof, making it impossible to see the sky. Apparently the portico was open to the water, but why were there no steps?

Suddenly primeval terror shot through Thais as he realized what this sloping floor at water’s edge was for.

“Menedem! Menedem!” Thais screamed as loudly as she could. “Menedem!”

She grew cold, remembering that the creature to whom she was intended would also be attracted by her cries. She stilled, hanging against the belts. The stone was icy against her back, and her legs grew numb.

When the last glint of sunset died in the black water, Thais lost track of time.

She thought she heard a weak splash in the pitch blackness of the reeds, somewhere at the edge of the shimmering reflection of the stars. A dull roar, similar to a cow’s mooing, sounded over the swamp. Distant and not loud, still it was revolting with its peculiar hidden threat, sounding different from any other animal sound to which humans were accustomed. Shivering and clenching her fists, Thais summoned all her power to keep the dark fear from overcoming her. The courage of her bull-fighting ancestors was limitless, as was that of the Amazons, untamed by wounds. She thought of the Athenian women who were as strong as Leanna, the lover of a famous Athenian revolutionary and tyrant slayer, Aristogeyton.

Except they had all fought with their hands free, in an honest battle. All except for Leanna, who had been tied like Thais, but did not give in to people who abused and misrepresented the law.

But here in the loneliness and cold silence of the swamp, waiting for a monster, Thais struggled against her bonds, fighting until she felt defeated. She leaned against the cold stone in a near faint.

The night was silent. No more splashes could be heard from the swamp.

Thais came awake from a cramp in her numb legs. How much more time had passed? If only she could see the sky above, the movement of constellations. Shifting and flexing, she managed to restore circulation, then froze in position when she thought she heard careful, slow steps in the underground gallery behind her.

Blood rushed into her head and joyous hope flushed through her. Menedem? But no. Would Menedem slink around, pausing after each step? No. He would rush in like an enraged bull, crushing everything in his way.

Not knowing what else to do, Thais let out another loud scream over the nighttime swamp, then listened again.

What was that? A barely audible response? Thais held her breath.

No, nothing.

And what of the steps from behind? The lower portion of the statue concealed the gallery entrance. Thais listened again and realized there was no one in the passageway: the sounds came from the swamp and echoed in the dungeon.

Oh, the great Aphrodite and Zeus-protector. It was a footfall of heavy paws over silty earth, beyond the pillars of the portico leading to the lake.

Slow and uneven slurping was interrupted by long pauses. Then a crested back came up next to the shore, its huge tail still in the water. Two eyes, sunken under the bony eyebrow bulges, lit up like dull red lights. The endlessly long body, undulating left and right in rhythm with the steps of its widely spread feet, crawled upon the narrow bank so slowly that sometimes the monster seemed motionless. There was a peculiar hissing sound, the sliding of a heavy body over damp soil or wet stone. The little red lights vanished, obscured by the opening maw almost three elbows wide, and framed by mighty white teeth.

Despite her terror, Thais noticed the crocodile didn’t open its lower jaw, as most animals did when opening their mouths, but lifted the top portion of its head instead, obstructing its own field of view. That was why the red lights of its eyes vanished for a moment. Oh, if only the belts hadn’t been holding her in place, she would have known exactly how to slip away from the giant zukhos.

The crocodile snapped its mouth shut and the red eyes returned, their cold, indifferent gaze upon her. The crocodile didn’t rush as it peered into the gallery, but seemed almost to pause as if it were studying Thais. Many times in its life it had devoured victims at this spot, tied and helpless. The zukhos pulled its belly up from the silt with a loud squelch, rising slightly on its powerful, stubby legs. Thais knew the disgusting creatures moved quickly on solid ground. All it had to do was cross a short distance now, only slightly longer than its own body.