Ivan Yefremov - Thais of Athens

“Sit. Have some wine.”

Nearchus obediently lowered himself into a heavy carved armchair, moving with a slowness that was unusual for him. Without even noticing, he poured himself some undiluted wine.

Hesiona came in shyly with her gaze lowered, carrying Egesikhora’s jewelry box, which had ended up staying at Thais’ house as Thais had originally suggested.

The Cretan flinched at the sight of his gift. Thais grabbed Hesiona, who was about to leave, and pushed her toward Nearchus.

“She is the witness of Egesikhora’s last hour. Talk!”

Hesiona burst into tears and knelt on the carpet, then quickly took hold of herself and related to Nearchus what he wanted to know, speaking in a relatively coherent narrative.

Several tears rolled from under the young fleet leader’s lids. The Cretan remained motionless, only his hand shook over the armrest and his thin fingers squeezed the neck of a carved lion. Following a sudden urge, Hesiona rose from the carpet and pressed her cheek to his hand. Nearchus didn’t take it away but lifted his other hand and started patting the Theban’s hair, as he listened to Thais adding details to her story.

“And my Menedem went to accompany Egesikhora into the dungeons of Hades,” Thais said between sobs.

“And the damn Eositeus is there, too. Oh, Spartans!” Nearchus said with dull hatred and threat as he rose.

“Egesikhora was a Lacedemonian, too,” Thais objected quietly, and the Cretan had no answer to that.

“Tomorrow at dawn I shall make a sacrifice in her memory. I invite you,” Nearchus said after a pause, then turned to Hesiona, “and you. I shall send a carriage or a palanquin.”

“Very well,” Thais answered for them both. “But you are forgetting this.” She held out Egesikhora’s jewelry box.

Nearchus stepped back, pushing away the small box. “No. I am giving it to the one who took Egesikhora away from the assassins. To your friend.”

Hesiona was so shocked and anxious that she turned crimson. “What is the matter with you, navarchus [19] Akin do an admiral of the fleet, which was essentially Nearchus’ role in Alexander’s army. ? How can you give such expensive things to a penniless girl? After all, I am not a slave only by the mistress’ mercy. I cannot take this.”

“Take it. As a memory of the terrible hours you went through with my golden beloved. And let me judge your virtues for myself.”

Hesiona glanced at Thais with hesitation. The hetaera raised her eyebrows, signaling that she had to take it. The Theban made a low bow as she accepted the box under the Cretan’s gloomy gaze.

Nearchus stopped at the threshold. “I have word from Ptolemy,” he said to Thais. “He was looking for you on the first day, but he had to sail with Alexander toward the sea. He hasn’t forgotten you. If you want to see him, Alexander and Hephaestion, then come sail with me. I am waiting for a messenger from the Harbor of Heroes where I must join Alexander. Our divine leader and friend wishes to found a new city, possibly the future capital of his kingdom. There is a suitable spot where a Cretan port used to be a thousand years ago.”

“Where is that?” Thais inquired.

“On the shore. You would have to sail to Naucratis, then further to Canopus, then along the seashore to the west. You know the place from Homer. It is a dwelling of the old man of the sea Proteus.”

“There’s an island that lies near Egypt in turbulent surf. The people who live there call their settlement Pharos,” Thais instantly remembered and recited.

“Yes, Pharos. Alexander is particularly fond of this spot. You know how much he loves Homer. Will you come?”

Thais flushed, feeling embarrassed. “How big is your ship?”

Nearchus chuckled for the first time of the entire evening. “My biggest ship stands in Tyre, in the square before the main temple. As the sign of victory. Just as Deiad’s siege machine was set in the temple in Gaza. Deiad is, by the way, Alexander’s chief mechanic.” Thais threw up her hands with delight and Nearchus frowned. “Why do you need to know the size of my ship?” the Cretan asked. “I’ll give you a separate ship, or two, or three. As many as you want.”

This was the first time the Athenian truly felt the power of the young Macedonian king and his equally young associates.

“Do you agree to sail to Pharos? But why do you need a big ship? You have less stuff here than you had in Athens,” Nearchus said, then glanced around the less than luxurious furnishings of Thais’ home.

“I need to take my horse with me,” Thais replied shyly. “I can’t part with her for a long time.”

“I understand. Is that all? What else?”

“Also my stableman and two women in addition to myself.”

Nearch said proudly, “You shall have an entire ship with an experienced crew at your disposal. I expect my messenger in two days. Then we’ll sail to Eshmun and Small Hermopolis, past Naucratis. You have been there, haven’t you?”

Thais recalled the dull plains with their numerous salt lakes, sand dunes and immeasurable thickets of reeds, the entire Delta barrier that separated Egypt from the glorious blue sea.

Mistaking the Athenian’s silence for hesitation, Nearchus said, “Ptolemy told me to give you as many darics as you want. I’ll send the money tomorrow.”

Thais shook her head thoughtfully.

“No, don’t. I haven’t seen Ptolemy yet. And he hasn’t seen me.”

Nearchus chuckled. “You need not doubt. Ptolemy shall be at your knees the moment he sees you.”

“I doubt myself. But I shall borrow three hundred darics from you.”

“Certainly. Take it. I brought a lot of money.”

As soon as the clanging of the swords and armor died in the distance, Hesiona dashed toward Thais and slid to the floor, hugging her knees.

“Mistress, if you love me, please take this royal gift from me,” she pointed at Egesikhora’s jewelry box.

“I do love you, Daughter of the Snake,” Thais replied gently. “But I cannot take what was given to you. By the will of fate and gods it belongs to you.”

“I have no place to keep jewelry.”

“Then hide them in my room. By the way, I think it is time for you to get your own room. Would you like to have the small bedroom?”

“Oh mistress, I want to sleep on the rug at your bed.”

“I shall strike you every time you call me that,” Thais decided, then planted a firm smack on Hesiona’s behind. “It is not proper for us to sleep in the same room. I feel you shall wake up soon.”

The sad ritual of a memorial sacrifice, accompanied by mournful Greek songs, was brief. Everyone left, even Thais. Only Nearchus remained, standing at the place of Egesikhora’s burial pyre for a long time.

The Cretan showed up at Thais’ house two days later. “Alexander’s messenger is here,” Nearchus informed her right away. “Apparently, there is no need to rush to Pharos. Foundations of Alexandria have been laid already, and the great strategist himself, along with Ptolemy, Hephaestion and other associates is headed for the Libyan desert, toward the oasis where the famous oracle and oak of Ammon are located.”

“Is that far?”

“More than three thousand stadiums across the desert.”

“And three thousand back? That will take a whole month.”

“Alexander will take less than that.”

“Then why should be sail to Pharos?”

“You don’t have to. Alexander ordered me to look over the spot for a harbor. I’ll go. For a short while.”

“Would you take me with you? On your ship? Without the horse, just me and Hesiona?”

“Certainly. But why?”

“I want to see Pharos. I want a chance to see the sea, and not Ptolemy. The horse will stay here with my slave girl.”