Ivan Yefremov - Thais of Athens

“And what about the terrible companions of Anteros, revenge and payback?”

“Why should you follow them? You must not humiliate and torture a man just as you must not humiliate yourself. Keep to the thin line of wise behavior or else you shall fall to the position of the one you humiliated, and both of you shall drown in the mud of lowly life.

“Remember the people who consider themselves to be “chosen”. They oppressed others by military force, by hunger or by deprivation of knowledge. Invariably, a sense of guilt grew in their souls, strange, blind and even more terrible because of it. That is why they rush about in search of a deity that could remove their guilt. Not finding such among the male gods, they rush toward the ancient female goddesses. And the others store the guilt within themselves. Becoming even more angry, they become torturers and executors of others, trampling over dignity and beauty of men, dragging them into mud and drowning there themselves. Such people are the most dangerous ones. Once upon a time the Orphics employed nemetors, the secret priests of Zeus Metron, Zeus the Measurer, whose duty was to eliminate such evil people quickly with the aid of poison. But the cult of Zeus the Measurer is no more, nor are his secret priests. And the number of tormentors grows in the Ecumene. Sometimes I feel that the daughter of Night, Nemesis, has fallen asleep, intoxicated by her own wreath of the daffodils which feed forgetfulness.”

“Do you know the secret of the poison?”

“No. And even if I did, I wouldn’t tell you. Your purpose is different. One cannot overlap different paths. This leads to errors.”

“You taught me yourself: the Orphics do not kill people. I would like to know, in case…”

“There are no cases. All things require Understanding and Discovery, two great components of Justice. No matter what you encounter in life, never step onto the dark path, and always do your best to dissuade other people from it. You are sufficiently armed for that. You may go home. I am tired, my daughter. Geliaine!”

Thais fell to her knees before her teacher, filled with gratitude. The Delos philosopher became serene when she kissed his hand.

“If you learned modesty here … But no, you were born with this gift of fate. I am glad for you, beautiful Thais,” the philosopher said, rising from the chair with difficulty.

Desperate longing, the anxious anticipation of a long separation from her beloved mentor, made Thais stall with her departure. She went to the main entrance, but stopped when she remembered her strange and colorful outfit. She couldn’t possibly walk down the street in it. Perhaps this clothing was only given to her temporarily. As if in response to her thoughts, a servant boy of the empty temple ran across the courtyard toward her. He bowed and took her into a side room, where she had gone in the beginning. There she found her clothes and sandals.

The boy said, “I shall take you home.”

After nine days of cramped and dark temple rooms, her head spun slightly in the open space. The wind of Set was over. The air had become so clear that the giant pyramids could be seen eighty stadiums to the north. The two shallow lakes behind the temple had almost completely dried out. Thais pulled up the hem of her linen stola, walked across the well-trampled clay between the ponds, and headed to the large park, avoiding the noisy street. After so much quiet, she felt uncomfortable in the midst of a large crowd.

As soon as she stepped outside the wall which surrounded the park, and turned toward the pier, she heard the swift footfalls of a soldier behind her. She recognized the sound of Menedem without even looking.

“Where are you coming from, darling?” she gently greeted the Spartan.

“I was loitering around the temple. Today is the tenth day and the end of your captivity. I didn’t guess right away that you would go across the ponds. Oh Thais. I missed you so. I didn’t even have a chance to say goodbye before you left because the damn sorcerer clouded all of our brains during the symposium. Thank gods for your Theban. She explained everything to me, or else I would have broken that Mitilenian’s every bone.”

Thais placed her hand on the warrior’s huge shoulder. “Don’t be jealous.”

“Oh no, not at all. I know now who you are, Mistress.”

Thais stopped walking, staring at him inquisitively.

“Yes, yes,” the Spartan continued. “Here.” He took her hand, bowed and kissed the ring with the triangular symbol on her finger.

“You are an Orphic?” Thais exclaimed in surprise. “Have you been initiated too?”

“Oh no. My elder brother is a priest of Rhea. From him I learned mysteries I am unable to comprehend. But they draw me, the way the curtain between life and death does, between love and beauty. And I can feel them, even though I do not understand, because I am but a simple soldier brought up for battles and death. A true Orphic doesn’t even kill animals and birds. He doesn’t eat meat.”

Thais suddenly felt a surge of tenderness toward this mighty man, who was as sensitive and gentle as a boy in the matters of gods and love.

“Come with me,” Menedem said. “I want to celebrate your initiation.”

“Very well,” Thais agreed. She smiled warmly at him. “I am glad you came to meet me.”

For his meetings with Thais, Menedem had rented a small adobe house on the western edge of the city, surrounded by scarce palm trees and vegetable gardens. The river valley narrowed here and the house stood not far from the third main alley. Thais was always touched at the sight of Menedem’s home, furnished plainly even for a Spartan. She kept forgetting that from the Laconian standpoint, Menedem was still not of age, was not an andros since he was not yet thirty years old. He still obeyed the army discipline, which was far more severe than even the society rules applied to free Spartan women.

Two or three lovely vases and several animal skins were all the decoration the modest soldier could afford. During Thais’ absence, a bronze tripod of ancient workmanship had appeared in the house.

Menedem offered Thais to take off her long linostolia, then lifted her up and set her on the tripod, as if she were an oracle priestess or a goddess. The surprised Athenian obeyed, curious as to what would happen next.

The Spartan brought some burning coals from the kitchen and poured them into two incense burners standing to the sides, and the fragrance of precious Arabian gums rose next to Thais in two smoky streams.

Menedem took her hand again and pressed his lips to the ring with the triangle. Bowing his head, he knelt slowly and remained in this position for so long that Thais started feeling awkward, both from his solemnity and from the uncomfortable seat on the tall tripod. She moved carefully, afraid to offend him.

The Spartan spoke. “You are so intelligent and beautiful. I believe you are not a mere mortal. Thank you for the divine joy you bring to me. I cannot express my great happiness, my tongue does not obey me, but even in my sleep I see the gentle smile of Aphrodite. I have nothing to give you except my life. But it is so little, the life of a soldier, destined for death.”

“Oh, you are the best for me, my Soter, my savior. I rejoice under the wing of your strength and I love you,” Thais leaned toward the Spartan and placed both hands on his curly head. “Get up, please.”

Menedem lifted his eyes and Thais sensed the adoration and joy of his pure and courageous soul. Embarrassed but happy, the Athenian tried to be cheerful and push away her worry that came from someplace unknown. She was concerned over the great responsibility of her lover, for whom she had become a goddess and the apple of his eye.