Ivan Yefremov - Thais of Athens

Thais screeched at such a pitch that the monster settled back onto its belly and suddenly turned right. Just then Thais heard a sound that almost made her sob. It was the smacking of running feet on dirt, overshadowed by a menacing man’s voice.

“Thais, I am here!”

“Menedem!”

For a moment his silhouette flickered in front of the entrance between the puzzled monster and its intended prey. Menedem peered into the dungeon. Thais called to him, her voice sounding as if it came from a nightmare. In the blink of an eye the Lacedemonian was at the foot of the statue, yanking at Thais’ belts with all his might. After the first, the belt on her left hand popped apart. At the second powerful tug, the right belt pulled the ancient bronze ring out of the wall but managed to stay whole. Menedem became even more enraged and tore the third belt like a bit of thread.

Thais was free. She fell to her knees with a sudden rush of weakness while Menedem spun toward his monstrous enemy. He had no weapon and was covered in mud head to toe, having left his clothes behind so he could run faster. The soldier’s rage was so great that he took two steps toward the monster with his bare hands spread out, as if he were about to strangle a mad dog.

Another pair of feet splashed over the mud and a reddish band of light spread over the water along the bank. The light became brighter, and Hesiona, half-dead from the mad dash and terror, froze at the portico, holding up her torch. Seeing the monster, the girl screamed in horror. The crocodile paid no attention to her, having now focused its gaze upon Menedem. The torch in Hesiona’s hand shook and she fell to her knees, just like her mistress.

“Light!” Menedem barked.

In the flickering light of the torch Thais saw the bulging muscles on the Spartan’s broad back, his stubbornly tipped head and his feet firmly set against the stone floor as he glanced around, looking for something with which to meet the monster.

Suddenly Menedem made a decision. In one jump he pulled the torch out of Hesiona’s hands and shoved it at the zukhos, causing it to back away. Menedem tossed the torch back to Hesiona, but Thais, who had risen to her feet by then, caught it. Menedem yanked at the wooden pillar of the portico, causing it to crack, then pushed as hard as he could. Finally, the old, dry wood gave in and everything happened all at once.

The crocodile moved at Menedem, who struck it in the snout, but the monster didn’t back down. Instead, it opened its jaws and rushed at the soldier. That was exactly what Menedem was waiting for. He shoved the pillar into the giant reptile’s maw with all his might, not even noticing as he ripped the skin off his palms. He fell, not able to remain standing while he stopped a twenty-five elbow zukhos, but managed to push the free end of the log toward the pedestal. The crocodile rammed the pillar into the immovable stone, thus shoving the wood even further into its own mouth. Terrible strikes of its tail shook the gallery, thrashing close enough to crush Hesiona. One strike broke the second pillar of the portico and the roof came crashing down, saving Hesiona from certain death. The crocodile fell on its side, convulsing, then dragged itself back to its feet and slithered back into the swamp, creating an entire fountain of mud with its tail.

Menedem and Thais stood shivering, unable to speak. Then Thais remembered and ran to Hesiona, lying prone at the entrance to the dungeon. She was covered in sticky mud, shielding her face and ears with her arms. The moment Thais touched her, Hesiona leaped up with a scream, but when she saw it was her mistress, and that Thais was unharmed, she threw herself into Thais’ arms.

Menedem took their hands. “Let’s go,” he said. “This is an evil place. The zukhos might return, or another one might come in its place. Or the priests …”

“Where do we go? How do we get out of here?” “The same way I got here: along the shore, around the temple.” All three walked quickly over the mud and under the Labyrinth’s wall. Soon the strip of shore widened, the soil turned dry and made for better footing. But Thais’ strength was exhausted, and Hesiona wasn’t much better off. Realizing it would be dangerous to stay there, Menedem put out the torch and picked up both women. He tossed them lightly over his shoulders and, in a steady trot, ran away from the menacing bulk of the Labyrinth, heading toward the glimmering light of the House of Pilgrims, which had long since been converted into a xenon, or an inn.

They had to wash before arriving at the xenon. To avoid attracting attention, Thais, dressed in nothing but her sandals and a mane of her long hair, hid behind palm trees. Menedem and Hesiona washed quickly near a wall and brought her clothes from the luggage delivered to the xenon in advance by their guides. The Greek interpreter vanished, frightened both by Thais’ disappearance and by Menedem’s rage.

While Hesiona smoothed medicinal ointment over Thais’ wounds, she told Thais how they had come to find her in that horrible state. After a fruitless search in the upper rooms of the Labyrinth, the Spartan had grabbed a priest. He had smacked the man against the column and promised to cripple him for good if he didn’t explain how the Helenian woman could have disappeared. He demanded to know where he should search for her, and was able to extract a suggestion that Thais had been taken by those who served Sebek. Those worshippers left the intended sacrificial offerings in the dungeons which had access to the lake, in the western part of the sanctuary. If one circled the Labyrinth from the lake and went left from the main entrance, he could find the passageways into the lower level galleries. Without losing a moment, Menedem had torn off his clothes to make it easier to run through water and rushed along the massive walls of the temple. There was nowhere for him to get any weapons, and had left his with their boatmen to avoid violating the rules of the temple. Someone shouted that he ought to take a lantern, but Menedem was long gone. Behind him, Hesiona grabbed two torches in their bronze holders, touched one to the flame of a niche lantern and dashed after Menedem, running as light and swift as an antelope. She ran in the gathering dark, finding her way by the gloomy wall on the left turning from west to south.

Thais kissed her faithful Hesiona. Menedem received an even more tender reward. Bunches of medicinal herbs were tied to his bleeding palms, making his hands look like claws of the same zukhos that nearly killed Thais.

The Spartan soldier kept glancing with concern at the Labyrinth. It stood tall in the distance glowing in the first rays of sunrise. Guessing his thoughts, Thais said, “There is no need, darling. Who can find the scoundrels amidst three thousand rooms, passages and dungeons?”

“And what if we bring Eositeus’ entire detachment?” he snarled. “We shall smoke them out of there like desert foxes out of their dens.”

“What for? We foreigners who eat beef are unclean in the eyes of the Egyptian people. We will do nothing but commit a great sacrilege at their sanctuary. Those who are guilty will run away, if they haven’t already. The punishment, as always, will befall those who don’t know anything and had nothing to do with this. I am the first to blame. I ought not to have argued with the priests, expressing Hellenic disdain toward foreigners and their religion. I should also be more careful traveling around temples filled with traps, mean people, and terrible deities that still demand human sacrifices.”

Menedem touched her arm gently, his gaze tender. “I am finally hearing words of sense. I wish you’d said this earlier, my beloved. You haven’t danced for us in over a month and have abandoned horseback riding since we got here.”