Ivan Yefremov - Thais of Athens

In the spot where the Nile circled the ancient dam, used for setting a floating bridge, the pier widened into a large square, surrounded by huge trees. Two palm alleys spread in a fork, away from the west side of the square, decorated with two brightly polished obelisks.

A cloud of dust moved down the right alley toward them, coming from a rider in a blue cape of angareyon, Persian horseback mail. A bunch of hair similar to the tip of a lion’s tail hung from his spear, meaning that he had been dispatched with a special assignment. The rider halted his horse between the obelisks and searched the crowd of pedestrians. His experienced eyes quickly located that whom he sought. He dismounted and strode across the stream of people, walking in the awkward gait of someone who spent his life in the saddle. He shoved aside the curious and stopped before the hetaerae.

Egesikhora grew so pale that Thais became worried about her and hugged her, pulling her closer in the eternal feminine gesture of protection.

The rider in blue bowed. “I have ridden from your house, Mistress. They told me that I could find you walking along the river. Who could be mistaken, seeing you? You are Egesikhora the Spartan.”

The hetaera nodded silently, licking her lips.

The messenger pulled out a packet of thin red leather from behind his belt.

“Nearchus, the Cretan and the fleet leader of the divine Alexander, sends you this letter and requests an immediate answer.”

Egesikhora grabbed the small packet, clasping it in her delicate fingers.

Thais came to her aid. “Where can we find you in the evening for reply and reward?”

The messenger named a xenon of the mail station, where he was staying, and Egesikhora waved him away. She did so just in time. Eositeus made an attempt to grab the letter, but Egesikhora evaded him and hid the leather bundle under the sash of her chiton.

“Hey, come here!” the strategist yelled at the departing messenger.

The man in blue turned around and Eositeus grabbed him.

“Tell me, where is the letter from? Who sent you? Tell me, or else you shall be detained and answer to the whistling of a whip.”

The messenger flushed and wiped his dusty face with a corner of his cape.

“Captain, you threaten me against tradition and law. The letter came from afar, and from a powerful man. All I know are the words I was to say when I handed in the packet. You would have to ride for many parsangs through tens of mail statmoses (stations), before you find out where the gold-haired one’s letter came from.”

Eositeus came to his senses, released the messenger and approached Egesikhora. He scowled at her. “Gods are clearing my mind. Your reluctance to leave … Give me the letter. It is important for my military purposes.”

The hetaera lifted her chin higher. “I shall read it myself first. Step aside.”

Egesikhora’s tone was firm. Eositeus stepped away and the hetaera instantly opened the packet. Thais, who was watching her, saw that the stern wrinkle between her friend’s eyebrows disappeared. A light, carefree smile of the former Egesikhora of the Athenian days touched her lips. She whispered something to Hesiona. The girl stepped to the side, bent over, then handed a heavy stone to the Spartan. Before the strategist realized what was happening, Egesikhora wrapped the letter around the stone and tossed it deftly into the river with unfeminine force. The packet vanished in the depths of the river.

“You shall pay for this!” the strategist roared. The Memphis citizens who observed this scene laughed and joked.

Eositeus wanted to grab her hand, but Egesikhora twisted away and vanished in the crowd. The military captain considered it beneath his dignity to pursue a woman, and turned arrogantly toward his camp, accompanied by his associates.

Thais and Hesiona ran and caught up with the flushed Egesikhora. Overjoyed, her eyes shining with excitement, she looked so beautiful that everyone turned around to look at her.

“What was in the letter?” the Athenian asked briskly.

“Nearchus is in Naucratis. He offers to sail to meet him or to wait in Memphis. Alexander is to arrive here even sooner than planned,” Egesikhora said, slightly out of breath.

Thais was silent, regarding her friend as if she were a stranger. The sun was setting beyond the cliffs of the Libyan desert, and the soft light of pre-twilight calm clearly outlined Egesikhora’s entire figure. While she watched, Thais thought she saw a strange shadow tossing a veil of doom over the Spartan’s face. Black circles appeared around her eyes, dark grooves undercut her delicate nostrils and overshadowed the clear lines of her mouth. It was if her friend became instantly strange and distant, aged by dozens of years.

Thais sighed and reached out to touch a strand of the Lacedemonian’s golden hair, realizing it was only a play of shadows of the fast Egyptian sunset. Egesikhora laughed, not understanding her friend’s mood. But the vague foreboding had darkened Thais’ mood.

“You must disappear for a little bit, my friend,” Thais said, grabbing her friend’s arm. “Just until the Spartan detachment leaves.”

“No one will dare, especially now. Not as I am under the protection of the invincible one,” Egesikhora objected.

Thais could not agree with her. “Eositeus and his Spartans are people of particular courage. They are not afraid either of death or of fate. If you do not want to sail from Egypt tied up in a ship’s hold, I suggest that you think about it. I can find you such a hiding place, one so well hidden that even his spies wouldn’t know where to look.”

Egesikhora laughed again. “I cannot imagine that the chief strategist, a seasoned soldier, a king’s relative, would bother with a woman, a hetaera at such a time. Even if it is a woman as splendid as myself.”

“You are mistaken. He wants to own you. It is precisely because you are as beautiful as a goddess and are surrounded by everyone’s attention and admiration. To part from you, and especially to give you up to someone else, be it the killer of Argos himself, that is a humiliation worse than death. His death or yours, and I fear it will be yours first. But as soon as you drink the cup of humiliation, he shall reward you with your power over him and your disobedience.

Thais paused. Egesikhora was silent as well, not noticing the passersby or the torches being lit at the pier.

“Let’s go to your place,” she said, rousing herself. “I must write an answer.”

“Which is?”

“I shall wait here. I am afraid of ships. My compatriots might trap me anywhere above Naucratis. I am also afraid to leave the horses behind. Where would I hide them? Especially considering that you agreed to stay here with me for a time,” she said, and wrapped her arms around her faithful childhood friend.

The Spartan asked Thais to write a short reply filled with love in her neat handwriting, then sealed it using a signet ring sent by Nearchus. She borrowed two gold darics from her friend to dispatch the messenger to the next station immediately.

The slave gardener hid the letter in his loincloth and ran to the xenon of the mail station, not far from the oldest step pyramid of pharaoh Josser. Egesikhora waited for the slave to return, staying until late at night. Only after having confirmed that the messenger agreed to leave in the morning, did she go home with torches and two strong companions.

It was unlikely that anyone in Memphis would dare touch the lover of the strategist himself, but all nikteridae (bats) looked the same at night.

Having fallen asleep late, Thais slept longer than usual. She was awakened by Clonaria, who burst in screaming, “Mistress! Mistress!”

“What happened?” Thais jumped out of bed.