Ivan Yefremov - Thais of Athens

The slave nodded her agreement as she wrapped Thais in rare cloth to keep her warm after the massage. She called two more maids with ivory combs to brush out the Athenians black hair, glossy after the bath. Thais felt nothing. She was already asleep, her head tossed back, her small mouth slightly open.

As soon as the two maids were finished, the old slave covered the young Helenian with a blanket as tenderly as if she were her own daughter.

The next day Alexander, clean and fresh, looking like a young Helenian god in his golden armor, received kshattra, an envoy of Parsa and his associates. All of this was held in the same hall that had only recently been occupied by the ill-fated “king of kings”. The Persians brought lists of all the valuables in the city, and thanked the great conqueror for not pillaging Persepolis. Alexander smiled mysteriously, exchanging amused glances with his captains. They all knew the only thing that had kept the soldiers from pillaging the legendary capital was the incredible fatigue that had caught up with them just as they reached their goal. Now that the first excitement had passed, it took nothing to keep order among them. Now Alexander really did issue an order not to touch anything in the city.

The Macedonians seemed to have cracked during that last dash. Now they gazed indifferently upon the unprecedented luxury of palaces and the wealth of priests and nobles.

Old veterans, exhausted by the marches and terrible battles, cried from happiness as they gazed upon their divine leader finally sitting on the throne of Persian rulers. The war was over, the goal had been reached. They only missed their fallen comrades, who hadn’t lived to see such glory.

Alexander believed that now that he had conquered Asia, he could go east to the edge of the world, but he kept his plans secret even from his closest friends. The inevitable campaign to chase after Darius was still ahead of them because until the king of Persia was eliminated, Alexander could not assume the role of a ruler, despite compliance of the people. There was always the risk of a sudden strike if Darius managed to gather sufficient troops.

As soon as spring came to the northern mountains, it would be time to give chase and also move the royal residence to Ecbatana. This was located five thousand stadiums north of Persepolis. Higher in the mountains was the cool summer capital of Akhimenides and also a fortified city, completely unlike the arrogantly open Persepolis. Alexander decided to transfer the treasures from all three gazaphilakias: Susa, Persepolis, and Babylon, to Ecbatana. He also ordered Parmenius’ giant train to be diverted there, because he intended to make Ecbatana and Babylon his two capitals, and the former would also become a camp for the preparation of the next campaign.

Eris appeared suddenly, having beaten even the supplemental infantry troops. She brought a letter from Hesiona, who had gone to Ecbatana with Nearchus. He had decided to wait for Alexander there and rest from the great labor of building fleets. Nearchus promised to find a house for Thais there as well. Ptolemy strongly advised the Athenian to settle in Ecbatana for the duration of the eastern campaign, but the hetaera did not hurry, as she hadn’t yet fully recovered from the murderous ride to Persepolis.

The black priestess arrived on Salmaakh, and now accompanied Thais in her excursions around the city with two old friends, Lykophon and lokhagos. They had been assigned again to protect the beautiful Athenian. Za-Asht reluctantly parted with the young Thessalian and was taken to Ecbatana by Hesiona so that she could set up a home for Thais.

The Athenian and her companions wandered the huge palace halls, staircases and portals, surprised at how little wear they found on the steps, the sharp corners of door and window frames, and the gaps between square columns. The palaces of Persepolis, the huge halls for receptions and royal ceremonies had been attended by very few people and looked like new, even though the earliest structures had been built almost two centuries ago. Here, at the foot of the mountains of Mercy, the rulers of Persia had built a special city. It was not to serve gods or celebrate country, but solely to glorify themselves.

The giant, winged bulls with human faces and childishly round cheeks were considered to be portraits of kings, exuding health and power. The splendid bas-reliefs of lions at the bottom of the northern staircase glorified the courage of king hunters. In addition to the winged gods and lions, the bas-reliefs portrayed the rows of soldiers in long uncomfortable garments, walking in small mincing steps. They also showed slaves and tax collectors, sometimes with carriages and camels, lined up in endless lines to bow before the “king of kings” on the throne. Thais tried counting the figures on one side of the staircase, reached a hundred and fifty and gave up.

She was struck by the overabundance of columns in the giant palace rooms. There were fifty, ninety or even a hundred of them in throne rooms. It was like a forest, in which people wandered and lost direction. Thais didn’t know whether this had been done on purpose or because the builders did not know of another way to support the roof.

She, the daughter of Hellas, was used to plenty of life and space in the temples and public buildings of Athens and thought these reception halls would have looked a lot more majestic had they not been so crowded by columns. The heavy stone pillars in the temples of Egypt served a different goal, creating the atmosphere of mystery, twilight and separation from the world, which could not be said about the tall white palaces of Persepolis.

Thais made another discovery: there wasn’t a single woman’s portrait among the great multitude of statues. The purposeful absence of the entire half of humankind appeared arrogant to the Athenian. Akin to other countries where Thais had observed the oppression of women, the Persian state was bound to fall into ignorance and breed nothing but cowards. From this, the hetaera gained a better understanding of the amazing victories won by Alexander’s smaller army. The wrath of goddesses, those keepers of destinies, procreation, joy and health, was inevitable for such a country. The king of Persians and his closest associates, now dashing about somewhere in the north, were now taking the full brunt of the retribution for the excessive glorification of men.

Persepolis was not a city in the same sense as how the Helenians, Macedonians and Finikians used the word. It was not a collection of temples, like Delphi, Ethes or Hierapolis. Instead, Persepolis was created as a place where the rulers of the Akhimenide dynasty attended to the matters of state and accepted signs of respect. That was why only the homes of the nobles and houses for visitors surrounded the platforms of white palaces. These were circled from the south by a wide half-circle of cabins for the craftsmen, gardeners and other slaves, and from the north by stables and fruit gardens. The strange city, so splendid and defenseless, arrogant and dazzling, abandoned by the Persian nobles and wealthy citizens, was now quickly filling up with people. The curious, the fortune hunters, the leftovers of mercenary troops, and the messengers from distant southern and eastern countries arrived from who knew where, wishing to see the great and divine conqueror, Alexander, young and beautiful as a Helenian god.

The Macedonian king did not mind the gathering. His main forces were gathered here as well, getting ready for a celebration Alexander had promised they would have before marching to the north.

Thais almost didn’t see Ptolemy and Leontiscus. Alexander’s associates were busy from dawn till late night and had no time for rest or entertainment. From time to time messengers came to Thais’ house bringing a gift of some sort: a rare piece of jewelry, a carved ivory chest, a pearl necklace or a diadem. One time Ptolemy sent a sad slave girl from Edom, who was skilled at bread baking, as well as an entire sack of gold. Thais accepted the slave, but gave the gold to the lokhagos to give out to the Thessalian horsemen. Ptolemy was angered by her doing that, and sent no news after that until he was dispatched to her with a request from Alexander.