Ivan Yefremov - Thais of Athens

A horseman in glittering, golden armor rode a snow white horse to the very steps of the veranda and Thais ran to him.

“Leontiscus, oh Leontiscus!” Thais cried.

The chief of the Thessalian cavalry caught her deftly and lifted her onto his horse, tossing off the smoking torch. “I am here for you, Athenian! Long live Alexander!”

“Victory, then! It’s victory, isn’t it, Leontiscus? I knew it!”

Unexpected tears rolled down Thais’ cheeks. She put her arms around the Thessalian’s neck and covered his face with kisses. Leontiscus kissed her back and, lifting her with his powerful arms, set her onto his shoulder. Elevated above everyone, Thais laughed while the soldiers yelled in delight, striking their shields and waving their torches.

A huge soldier with a fluttering mane of red hair sat atop a tall gray stallion. He spotted Eris on the veranda, looking puzzled, then rode to the railing and invited her to ride with him. Eris glanzed at her mistress, who nodded with encouragement. The girl leaped into the horseman’s arms and the giant set her onto his shoulder as Leontiscus had done with Thais. The former priestess rose even higher than Thais and there was a new roar of admiration.

The Thessalians rode around the sanctuary, yelling and waving their torches. Their armor clanked and the air thundered with the sound of hooves and shields being pounded. All the temple’s servants ran to the roof, including the high priestess.

Thais, joyous and triumphant, noticed the agitation among the priestesses and realized it was caused by Eris’ appearance on the soldier’s shoulder. The mistress of the temple made an abrupt gesture with her arms and the veranda was suddenly empty.

Thais chuckled. How disappointing for the mistress to see her former victim, who had been sentenced to humiliation, now being carried before the temple as if she were a goddess. The parade returned to Thais’ house and both women were carefully carried inside, not even allowed to touch the ground. Leontiscus came in too, and the other horsemen were let go. Only two close associates stayed to wait for him.

“So, it’s victory, darling?”

“Complete and final. Darius was crushed completely, his enormous army is scattered. We killed tens of thousands until we were so exhausted that we fell over the corpses with our swords and spears still in our hands. All of Persia lies open before us. Alexander is the new King of Kings, the son of immortal gods.”

“I have only recently understood that only a chosen one of fate, a titan-like hero like Achilles could conquer Asia.”

“I got to see it,” the Thessalian said quietly and fell, exhausted, into an armchair.

“Are you tired? Will you rest here? Eris will bring some wine and some walnuts in honey with cream. It’s the most nourishing food.”

“I’ll eat, then go to my camp. We have set up a tent at the edge of the grove where the rest of my people are.”

“How many are there?”

“Sixty horsemen, one hundred and fifty horses.”

“Did you come just to get me?”

“Yes. After the great battle, where my horsemen distinguished themselves yet again, I was out for two days as if in a sleep. Alexander decided I needed rest and sent me here to fetch you.”

“And what of him?”

“He is going straight to Babylon with his army.”

“Are we going there?”

“Certainly. I’ll just let the horses rest a bit. I galloped the entire way because I wanted to see you.”

“How far did you have to gallop?”

“A hundred parsangs.”

Thais thanked the warrior without words, instead expressing herself with a long kiss. Then she asked, “How far does Alexander need to travel to Babylon?”

“A bit longer than I did.”

Thais looked up and smiled. “Ah. Here is Eris. Eat and drink. I’ll drink with you to the victory.”

“Is the underground kingdom in your service now?” Leontiscus asked, sipping wine and observing her new slave girl.

“This story is interesting, but long. I hope to have time to tell it along the way and to hear your stories about the great battle.”

“Definitely,” the Thessalian assured her. He quickly swallowed a handful of walnuts boiled in honey and rose to go. Thais saw him to the steps of the veranda.

After taking some rest, Leontiscus appeared again. He wore such gorgeous armor that even Homer wouldn’t have been able to describe it. The tanned horseman in white silk and golden armor, sitting a beautiful white horse, looked like a demigod. And while a deep wrinkle crossed his forehead between the eyebrows, and the corners of his mouth were surrounded by a double groove, his squinted eyes, light and fearless, were laughing.

“What a beautiful horse you have. Like a titanide, Leukippa the changeling. What is her name?” the hetaera exclaimed in delight.

“Melodia.”

“Song? Who named her so beautifully?”

“I did. Do you remember that there is a river Melos? It sings as it flows over the ringing stones. My Melodia runs the way the river flows and bubbles.”

“You are a poet, Leontiscus.”

“I simply love horses. And this is for you,” the Thessalian said. He unrolled a package and handed Thais the costume of a Persian princess. The hetaera declined, saying she didn’t want to wear foreign togs, and decided just to put on the tiara, made of rare stones that sparkled in the sun. She kept the blue necklace of the temple of Rhea around her neck and put tinkling periscelides of electron with turquoise around her ankles, as if for a dance.

She ordered the servant to bring her Salmaakh instead of Boanergos and gasped when she saw her mare. The animal wore a golden harness, decorated with large tourmalines of the same divine pink color as the ones decorating the vials of Kibela. The sweat blanket was overlaid with the hide of a rare beast, yellowish red with black stripes, which she learned was called a tiger.

The horse’s fetlocks were dressed in glittering silver bracelets with little bells. Salmaakh seemed to understand the beauty of her attire and stepped proudly, her hooves ringing in unison with Thais’ anklets.

An entourage of thirty soldiers accompanied Leontiscus and Thais, who rode side by side along the wide path toward the main entrance into Kibela’s sanctuary. The Thessalians were singing, and Thais asked them to strike their shields in rhythm with the battle song.

The warlike cavalcade entered the first courtyard, where Thais and Leontiscus dismounted. They were met by the priests armed with spears, and went to the gate in the low fence which separated the paved yard from the cypress alley. At the end of this was an arched bridge and a staircase going over the pool, leading straight to the lower terrace. When they were on the other side of the gate, they were approached by a nude gatekeeper. She gathered her thick hair, dipped it into a silver basin of fragrant water and sprinkled it over the visitors.

Suddenly she shrieked and covered her face, but before she could hide, Thais recognized her Finikian girl.

“Oh, Leontiscus. Make them wait a minute,” she said, then nodded at the stern priests. She approached Za-Asht and pulled her hands away from her crimson face.

“They have punished you already? What for? Is it bad? Tell me.”

From her incoherent, rushed explanation Thais figured out that the Finikian had been forced to do something intolerable, but had refused. She was sent to the temple of Anaitis, where she revolted again. She was then sent here to be a gatekeeper, and the first treat for tired pilgrims.

“What happened at the temple of Anaitis? First stage of the mysteries?”

“Yes. They tried to force me to participate in the second one.” Za-Asht covered her face again. She shook in reaction to the impatient knocking of the priests’ spears as they struck sharply against the ground.