If at Faust You Don`t Succeed

CHAPTER 6

Azzie, with Faust in tow, flew high and fast, above the towers of Constantinople, then to the southwest above the great plain of Anatolia. They passed over an occasional mud village, homes of the Turks who had migrated to this place from the back of beyond, and were even now raiding as far north as the fortifications of the great city. After a while they were over a region of low, barren hills, and then they came to the first peaks of the Caucasus Mountains. Azzie gained more elevation to pass over them, and Faust found himself shivering violently in the thin, chill air. The mountaintops lay below them, their tops piercing the fluffy white clouds, illuminated by the bright sun.

"See that big one ahead?" Azzie asked Faust, raising his voice against the windstream. "That's where we're going."

They landed on its summit, on a flat tableland that was drenched in brilliant noonday sunshine. Faust wanted to ask Azzie how he had brought this about, since it had been nighttime when they left the Crusaders' camp. But he didn't want to appear ignorant, so he said instead, "Where are we?"

"This is Mount Crescendo, highest peak in the Caucasus," Azzie said. "It is not far from Mount Ararat, where Noah first found dry land after the Flood."

Faust walked to the edge. Through the crystal air he could see for miles and miles, all the way down to peaceful settlements on the flatlands below. Beyond that he could just make out a pink stone palace, decorated with white walls and turrets and looking very like a birthday cake.

"That is Castle Carefree," Azzie said. "It will be yours if you do my bidding."

"What are the special qualities of Castle Carefree?" Faust asked.

"You notice that pink stone that Carefree is constructed from? That is happiness stone, and it comes from the Golden Age of mankind, when all was well with everybody and everything. This stone is so permeated with the essences of good tuck and happiness that one tends to walk around most of the time in a state of mild euphoria. It is a place where you can be happy and blithe, Faust. And this palace has the usual assortment of maidens of the most exquisite form, with heartstoppingly beautiful faces, and figures that would make an angel weep, though he'd better not let his superiors catch him in such an unangelic attitude."

"Castle Carefree looks very tiny from here," Faust said.

The properties of tight and air on this mountain are such," Azzie said, "that by squinting your eyes slightly you can magnify your view and see whatever you wish."

Faust squinted, too hard at first, because he found that he was looking at a blank watt from an apparent distance of perhaps two inches. Relaxing his squint slightly, he was able to move his gaze away from the watt and so get a panoramic view of the palace. Castle Carefree was indeed an enchanting place. Faust saw the many splashing fountains, neatly graveled walkways which meandered through a large and well-kept garden, he saw the multitude of tame deer that roamed its shaded confines, and the many bright-winged parrots who lived in its trees and convened the place into a shifting pageant of color. He saw the servants, dressed in white garments, strolling back and forth with brass trays filled with sweetmeats, fruits, trays of nuts, and dishes of spicy condiments. They offered these treats to the guests, who were clad in rich robes of many colors. Faust could see that several of the guests were tall and nobly bearded, and had such finely shaped heads as he had not seen since he had studied ancient sculpture in Rome.

"Who are these men?" he asked.

"These are philosophers," Azzie said. "And their purpose would be to converse with you about the how and why of things, and add their learning to your lightning-quick intelligence. Now shift your gaze a little to the left—that's it—and notice that dome-shaped building standing apart from the other structures."

"Yes, what is it?" Faust asked.

"That is Castle Carefree's treasure store," Azzie said. "Therein are treasures aplenty: gems of the first water, pearls beyond compare, jade of an ultimate exquisiteness, and other fine things."

Faust squinted his eyes again and tilted his head somewhat.

"What is it that I see far ahead on the horizon?" he asked. "It seems to be a moving cloud of dust."

Azzie looked. "That is of no account."

"But what is it?"

"If you must know, that is a band of wild Turkish warriors," Azzie said.

"I'm afraid not. They provide quite a menace hereabouts. But they leave Castle Carefree alone."

"But what would I do if they came to attack me?"

Faust asked. "Then my riches and cheerful life-style would not help much, would they?"

"Change is ever upon us," Azzie said. "There are savage warriors outside every palace, clamoring to get in. And sometimes they succeed. But never fear, I would not leave you in peril. I can provide palaces for you in various regions of the world. There are many fair cities where you might live. And you would not be confined to your own time, either. If you wanted to walk in Athens with Plato, for example, or ancient Rome to converse with Virgil or Caesar, I could arrange that."

"That sounds pretty good," Faust said. "But what about my rightful place in this great contest of Dark and Light?"

"I think I can do something about that," Azzie said. "You understand it was not my fault that this mistake was made. It was that stupid Mephistopheles, and I intend to teach him a lesson. But first I'll need to make some enquiries, for the contest is already underway and the Powers of Light and Dark would not be pleased to have it interrupted. But with a little luck and a word or two in the right places I think I can get you switched into the game in Mack's place."

"And you would do this for me?"

"Yes, I would," Azzie said. "But there is a condition."

"What is it?"

"You must bind yourself to me by the strongest oath you know to obey me in every instance, and, especially in matters of the contest, to be bound by me and do what I say."

Faust drew himself up proudly. "Me, obey you? I am Faust, and who are you? Merely some almost anonymous unclean spirit!"

"I wouldn't say unclean," Azzie said, offended. "That's a vile canard on us demons. Anyhow, there's nothing dishonorable about obeying a demon. Men do it all the time."

"Not Faust," Faust said. "Why do you consider it necessary?"

"It is because I have a plan, by means of which you can regain your rightful place in things, and I mine.

But you must do what I say. You won't find me too hard a taskmaster. Come now, will you do it?"

Faust considered and was sore perplexed. He was tempted. Being ruler of Castle Carefree was a step up from being a professor of alchemy in Cracow. But he couldn't bring himself to agree to obey Azzie. A

deep-set inner reluctance held him back. It was not so much that Faust the man had to have his own way. It was more that, as the embodiment of the archetypal spirit of Faust, he could not make himself subservient to a spirit who, by the nature of things, was supposed to be serving him, not the other way around.

"I can't do it," he said.

"Ah, but consider," Azzie said. "How about if I also throw in that quintessence of beauty that all men seek. I refer of course to none other than the incomparable Helen of Troy."

"But you don't have Helen of Troy!"

"I'm not interested," Faust said.

Azzie smiled. "Just take a look."

So saying, the demon made a gesture. And there on the mountaintop, before Faust's eyes, a woman began to take shape. And then she stood before him. She looked at him with eyes of a deep color, though Faust could not say which, since they seemed to shift color as the clouds passed over the sun.

One moment gray, another moment blue, and yet another green. She wore a classic Greek outfit, a white tunic well pleated, with a strap passing over one shoulder, the other bare. So excellent in all her proportions was she that it would have been ridiculous and futile to try to pick out some feature above the others, saying, her nose is very good, or, her eyebrows arch nicely, or, she has a well-shaped bosom, or, her legs are of a comely disposition. All these statements were true, but Helen beggared description and undercut comparison. She was of that perfection, which men glimpse sometimes, murkily, in their dreams. She was in her own way an absolute, an ideal more than a human being, and yet she was human.

And whatever flaws might be found in her served only to enhance her perfection by their very humanity.

Faust looked at her and was sorely tempted. She was a great prize to be won because—completely apart from her inherent desirability—there was the pleasure to be gained by taking her away from all other men, and having all men in the world except the gay ones envious of you. To have Helen would make a man richer than the treasures of a king of kings.

But there was a price to be paid, too. For a man who possessed Helen would also be possessed by her, and could call neither his soul nor his destiny his own. His fame would suffer by comparison to hers. In his own case, no longer would he be thought of as Faust the archetype. He would probably be referred to as Helen's boyfriend. And his own excellences could not fail to dim in comparison with hers. Paris had probably been a good enough man, back there in ancient Troy when he won her from Menelaus. Yet who thought about Paris now?

There were all those reasons, and there was another one: Faust knew that desiring Helen was one thing but, for him actually to take her would be archetypically unsound. He was Faust, a solo act who stood on his own. He was not to be any man's puppet, no, nor woman's, either.

He spoke rapidly, before the sight of her fetal loveliness could undermine him. "No, no," he said, "I'll not have her and I'll not be your man."

Azzie shrugged and smiled. He didn't seem to be entirely surprised at this decision. He must have known what stem stuff Faust was made of, and realizing this, Faust felt a glow of pride in his heart. It's something when even a demon admires your steadfastness!

"All right," Azzie said. "I'll get rid of her. But it was worth a try." He made a series of hand movements, of a dexterity that Faust had to admire: magicians know each other's skills and excellence by the sinuosity of their hand and finger movements. Azzie's was second to none.

The light shimmered for a moment around Helen, who had been waiting rather passively through all this.

But then the shimmering went away. Azzie made passes again. This time there wasn't even a shimmer.

"Well, isn't that weird?" Azzie said. "Usually that Disappearing Spell works just fine. I'll have to look it up again later, when I have time. Tell you what. Helen's a nice girl and she needs a little vacation from Hades, where she currently resides. How about if she sticks around with you a while, and I'll take her back later?"

"Don't you worry about her," Azzie said. "She'll come to no harm. And anyway, I could tell that she wasn't right for you."

"You really think that?" Faust asked.

"Trust me. A demon knows by the glow in his chest when a love match is doomed to destruction. I'll catch up with you later, we'll have another talk. You're sure I can't tempt you with something?"

"No, but thanks for trying."

"Right, then. I must be off."

"Wait!" Faust said. "Could you supply me with a few ingredients that I need for my Traveling Spell?

Otherwise Helen and I might be stuck on this mountaintop for quite some time."

"Good thing you mentioned it," Azzie said. And, opening the pouch that all demons carry with them, but which, because of witchcraft, does not make a bulge in their clothing, Azzie removed a variety of herbs, simples, nostrums, purified metals, recondite poisons and the like, and gave these to Faust.

"Thank you," Faust said. "With these at my disposal I'll work my own destiny. Your offer was kind, Azzie, but I can take care of this matter of the impostor by myself."

"Farewell, then!" Azzie cried.

"Farewell," Faust said.

They both struck a pose, right arms upraised in the air, palms outward, thumbs folded in—the magician's gesture—then Azzie vanished in a flash and Faust, a moment later, accompanied by Helen, vanished in one also.