Thais of Athens

Chapter Sixteen. The Queen of Memphis

“You shall rule in Memphis and I shall stay in Alexandria,” Ptolemy said, arguing with Thais.

For the first time, they were on the brink of a divorce. She reproached him for breaking his vow not to take another wife after Sirita, who he abandoned in Babylon. Now that he was an acknowledged king of Egypt, he’d fallen in love with Berenice and married her secretly, setting her as the queen in Alexandria. And before that there was Eurydice, who bore him a son after he took her by force in Ionia and brought her to Persia.

For the first time, Ptolemy did not yield to Thais’ demands. In ten years of victorious campaigns with Alexander’s army, during which cities were crushed and thousands were subject to rape and violence, he had become accustomed to going through hundreds of women without giving it a single thought.

“One more, one less. Is it really worth talking about?” Ptolemy thought naïvely. He was preoccupied by other things. He had recently realized that his efforts to transform Egypt by introducing the spirit of Hellas along with Alexander’s genius had been in vain.

“This boulder of ancient beliefs, customs and ways of life, akin to a rock made of black Elephantine granite,” he explained to Thais, speaking as intelligently and convincingly as always. “It cannot be changed any other way but by breaking it into pieces. But that would not be wise. When you destroy something, you cannot immediately replace the old with the new, for the country is left without law and tradition and transforms into a gathering of barbaric scoundrels. I shall begin with Alexandria and turn it into a city open to the entire world, open to all teachings and faiths, to philosophers of all schools. First and foremost it will be open for trade between Asia and the Inner Sea. Alexandria, where I keep in the gold sarcophagus the body of the great Alexander, my childhood friend and half-brother, shall become the most beautiful city in Ecumene. The lighthouse on Pharos will become more famous than the Etemenanki tower. I shall also build a Museum for the philosopher. I have already collected more scrolls and books at the Library than in any city of Hellas. I gave an order to the captains of all ships arriving to the Alexandria bay to inform me of the new works of art, scientific discoveries and famous books. I have enough gold to buy a lot. Had it not been for the war …”

Ptolemy frowned and Thais patted his shoulder compassionately. She knew about the unending war among the diadochs, Alexander’s heirs. The chief strategist of Asia, Alexander’s old comrade Perdicca, was appointed by the diadochs’ council to rule the kingdom until Roxanne’s son grew up. He then attacked Ptolemy to take Egypt as well. His own officers killed Perdicca as soon as he reached the Delta, and the army was transferred to Ptolemy.

“I shall fight for Egypt, for Cyprus, and perhaps for Hellas, but in order to carry out all these plans I must live in Alexandria. That is where I invite everyone with the strong spirit of enterprise, everyone who is able to look ahead and work hard, who is talented and intelligent. I invited the Hebrews from Babylon, Syria, and Judea to live freely and carry out trade in Alexandria. I place many hopes on these stern and capable people to multiply the riches and make the city blossom, as I do with your compatriots, who are quick in making decisions and in carrying them out.

“It is true that Athenians are sometimes brave beyond their powers, but they like to take risks and face the danger calmly. I can wage war and argue. There is no one to fight and nothing to argue about in the depths of Egypt. Everything has been built millennia ago, and some of it is already forgotten and covered with sand. Memphis loves you and you understand Egyptians, their different faiths and mystical teachings. You are initiated into their secret rituals. Be the queen of Memphis, where we were both crowned to rule. Help me here and I swear the inviolate oath of the Styx waters that I shall not call another woman a queen as long as you are with me.”

“As long as I am with you,” Thais repeated slowly, agreeing with the arguments of her wise husband.

And so she remained in Memphis alone, unless you counted the little Irenion, or Irana, as Thais called her in Doric dialect. Her daughter’s name reminded her of Persia, and the girl herself was growing increasingly like Ptolemy. Leontiscus was in Alexandria with his father. The boy expressed the same deep love of the sea as permeated Thais’ entire being, even as she was forced to live away from its gentle waves and sparkling blue expanse as if by a cruel joke of fate.

The people of Memphis honored their queen more for her kind eyes and striking beauty than for any real power, which was in fact held by Ptolemy’s envoy. Thais never tried to be an imposing ruler, having taken upon herself palace celebrations, receptions for the ambassadors and temple ceremonies. All this was wearisome for the lively Athenian. The Egyptian traditions required the queen to sit motionless for hours atop an uncomfortable throne, wearing heavy jewelry. Thais tried to make her receptions and participation in the celebrations as brief as possible.

She had to limit her riding outings to evening twilight and dawn hours. The Egyptians could not imagine their queen galloping on horseback instead of riding slowly and solemnly in a gilded carriage. Salmaakh met her end there, and they purchased a similar gray Libyan mare for Eris. Boanergos was approaching the age of twenty, and while was no longer as playful, he was still light and swift on his feet, jealously not letting any horse pass him. The beautiful pacer, purchased from the queen of Amazons according to rumors, always attracted attention in Memphis. That did not help keep their riding secret.

In the evenings Thais liked to sit on the steps of the Neit temple facing the Nile, watching the dark, mighty river as it rolled toward her native Inner Sea, waiting for the reflections of stars to sparkle in the river. These evening visits became her favorite kind of rest. Of all the mandatory signs of power, she left only the gold tiara in the shape of a snake, the sacred uraeus that descended, upon her forehead.

Eris sat one step lower, glancing at two shy Egyptian girls from noble families who carried a fan and a mirror. It was their duty to accompany the queen everywhere. Cool wind sometimes fluttered in from the river and the Egyptian girls, completely nude save for the colorful beaded necklaces and sashes, shivered and clutched at each other. Eris silently signed to them, pointing at a large coverlet of the finest wool. The girls smiled gratefully, wrapped it around themselves, and left their queen to sit in peace.

The Neit temple, where she had been initiated into the Orphic teachings and began studying the wisdom of Asia, had long since become a home for Thais. The temple priests remembered the Delos philosopher well, as they did her prior visits to the temple, and were not surprised when nine years later she revisited the temple in all the splendor of the beautiful queen of Egypt.

Since then, Thais had sometimes secluded herself in her former room between the thick pylon walls, and had become friends with the high priest of the goddess. The friendship between the young queen and the old temple servant began with the Athenian’s attempt to discover the fate of Hesiona and Nearchus. Fulfilling the wish of their late king and friend, as they promised just before his death, Nearchus had inherited the entire fleet and sailed around Arabia in order to continue the route to Egypt and Nubia across the Eritrean Sea.

After two years passed with no news of Nearchus, Thais decided that, no matter how big Arabia was, the sailors had to have reached their goal and sent word. She had heard about the trips taken by Egyptians to Punt across the Eritrean Sea in the days when Hellas had not even existed. So she began looking for knowledgeable people. It turned out to be a short search. The high priest of the Neit temple had access to secret archives where records and maps of the voyages to the distant eastern shore of Libya were kept. The Egyptians had traveled there two thousand years prior, searching for gold, ivory, incense, slaves and rare animals.

Thais’ most vivid memory was of visiting the archive somewhere in the ancient temple underground, near the small pyramid. There she had seen four attendants or priests with emaciated faces of fanatic ascetics, dressed head to toe in the green robes of Distant Land Scholars. They had accompanied the queen and the Neit priest, who served as an interpreter for the ancient sacred language. The green ascetics either knew no other language or did not wish to speak any other way.

Fragile sheets of brown vellum covered with mysterious lines, hieroglyphs and markings shaped like flying birds were unrolled before Thais.

“You said that shortly before the death of the great Alexander, Nearchus arrived at Babylon with new discoveries, did you not?” the Neit priest asked.

“His assistant, Archias, confirmed that the sea from the Euphrates delta was but a gulf between India and Arabia,” Thais said. “And Gireon stated that the southern coast of Arabia stretched infinitely far southwest.”

The Neit priest translated to the archive keepers, and their eyes flashed. One said something in a low voice and knocked the largest sheet, unrolling it on a stone tile with his knuckles.

“We do not know about the gulf,” Thais’ companion translated. “But here is the shore of Arabia, going to the west and southwest. Here it ends in a kind of angle, turning northwest through the narrow gates of the sea you call Eritrean. That sea has been traveled back and forth by our seamen. Its length has been measured to be five hundred skhens or parsangs from the Gates to the Neho canal. Two months of sailing, gods willing.”

“Then shouldn’t Nearchus have been in Egypt a long time ago?” Thais asked. “All ninety ships of his fleet could not have perished.”

“Queen, Your Majesty judges correctly.”

“What could have happened then?”

The Neit priest translated her question. The archive keepers mumbled words as mysterious as chants, poked their dark, thin fingers into various spots on the dusty map and finally reached an agreement.

“The land scholars say that the fleet leader did not make it into the Eritrean Sea,” the Neit priest said with authority.

“That could not have happened to Nearchus, the most skilled of sailors. He has the best navigators from Finikia, Egypt and Cyprus.”

“It could happen in that area. If Your Majesty would please look here … This is the southern shore of Arabia, stretching in the direction of India to the east and north for several hundred skhens. From the sound it is opposed by the huge cape of Nubia, or Libya as you call it. The Cape of Fragrances^[40] protrudes into the Great Ocean like a horn. Our sailors traveled around it, facing great dangers on their way to Punt. It reaches halfway across the edge of Arabia. Then look here, Queen. Nearchus’ fleet was sailing along the shore to the southwest. Terrible storms often take place there. They bring sand and dust from the deserts of Arabia, obscuring the sea for many skhens. Nearchus could have gotten caught in such a storm when his fleet was across from the Cape of Fragrances. The shore of Arabia curves to the south near the round bay with the Cape of Pearls. Right across from that spot, the Horn of Nubia approaches as closely as eighty skhens. Imagine now, that a strong sandstorm carried the fleet to the south. The ships could have accidentally crossed the gap between Arabia and Nubia. Further, from the east side of the Horn, the shore travels south, curving more and more to the west. What would a fleet leader do, who was initially traveling southwest along Arabia?”

“He would continue sailing along the shore of Libya, thinking he is sailing by Arabia,” Thais replied without hesitation.

“Indeed. See? The shore to the south from the Cape of Fragrances goes southwest to the Punt for five hundred skhens. Further along it turns southeast, and that is where the fleet leader would discover his mistake.”

“Then what?”

“I cannot tell you that, for I do not know Nearchus. He may turn back. If he is strong and brave, he would go forward and around, as Finikians have done when ordered by the great Neho.”

“The Cretan is stubborn and strong,” Thais said sadly. “Besides, Alexander himself dreamed of sending ships around Libya, having heard nothing of Neho.”

“Then expect the fleet in three years, as it happened with the Finikians,” the priest replied. “Two years have already passed.”

Five more years passed, and it became obvious that Nearchus’ fleet had vanished without trace in the vastness of the sea. Along with him, the Daughter of the Snake had gone forever from Thais’ life. Eris was all that was left to her.

The unavoidable losses followed one after another. She hadn’t heard from Lysippus in a long time. He sent word once that he’d sold the Anadiomena to Seleucus, who traded her to the Indians for elephants. Lysippus did not know how many elephants they offered, but twenty-five talants, added to the twelve talants that made up the value of the silver, added to two hundred twenty thousand drachmas, which was an enormous sum. She wrote to her teacher, asking him to use the money for the school of sculptors in Carius, which he had dreamed of starting for a long time, but she never received an answer. Something must have happened to the great sculptor. Or had the endless war over Alexander’s inheritance in Ionia and Mesopotamia interfered with the letter?

Thais had a vague premonition that her teacher was gone, and it was correct. After his departure to Hellas, where he met with Cassander who had supposedly ordered a statue, Lysippus fell ill and died shortly after. Following tradition, his heir, the eldest son Euticratus, opened the great sculptor’s secret chest. Lysippus had a rule. He placed one piece of gold into the chest after selling a statue. Euticratus counted fifteen hundred pieces, which made obvious the sculptor’s giant legacy. Thais would have been even more astonished had she known that not a single one of Lysippus’ fifteen hundred statues ever reached the heirs of Helenian art. Only a few of them became known to the future generations, thanks to the Roman marble copies from Lysippus’ bronze originals. Had she known that, Thais would have realized how little hope there was for preserving her silver statue, even though the bronze was more likely to be used for weapons of war by the future ignorant conquerors of Hellas, Asia Minor and Egypt.

Many people descended into the Amelet stream, the river of Rescue from Cares in the kingdom of Hades. So many changes, impressions, and so much turmoil took place over ten years. They swirled by like a storm from the moment Thais left Athens for Egypt and returned as queen.

Now, there were very few changes in her life. Time flowed slowly, like the Nile during winter. Was that the case for all who reigned without ruling? With the queens, whose husbands remained the true rulers? Thais realized Roxanne must have felt the same way with Alexander and probably felt even worse now that he was gone. Little Alexander, who was born two months after the death of the great army leader, was guarded like a talisman and a symbol of power — first, by Antipatros, the chief strategist of Hellas and Macedonia, and now, after his death, by Antigonus the One-eyed.

Aristotle died too, outliving his great student by only one year. Lyceum in Athens was now run by the scholar of plants, Theophrastus. There, serious students still walked among the splendid pine trees and chestnuts, having been allowed to obtain secret knowledge. The Athenians came in the evenings to listen to philosophic talks. In Ecbatana, Lysippus had told her about the birth of the new movement of stoics, who stated that all people were equal citizens of the world. They founded the first true system of evaluating one’s behavior not based on one’s faith in divine word, but on the importance of one’s life to the society.

The priest interrupted her thoughts. “Would Your Majesty like to learn anything else?”

Thais was startled from her thoughts. They were approaching the Neit temple, where a worried Eris paced gracefully up and down the broad staircase.

“Tell me, Father, why did they show me the secret drawings of land and sea, but did not do it for Alexander or even for Nearchus?”

“We were not asked, and knowledge only goes to those who seek it. You are one of us, you are harmless and not powerful, because you do not seek power. A great genius, an army leader, or a ruler, regardless of his origins, has yet to bring happiness to people. The greater he is, the greater the trouble. People usually follow laws that are thousands of years old, having grown from the healthy experience of generations. They are connected by the necessity of life, faith and service to gods and power. A great man places himself above all things commonly human, destroying the foundations of existence, and making the eternal mistake of reducing his deeds to nothing thus plunging him into the abyss of Darkness. Godlike people only bring happiness when they have no power. People like philosophers, healers, poets or artists.”

“Do you believe Alexander only brought suffering and misfortune?”

“His deeds have yet to be weighed on the scales of time, and the gods of destiny have yet to count the black and white sides of his life. My mind is too small to comprehend the enormity of his accomplishments. Initially he was given beauty and physical strength, a brave heart and a clear, all-encompassing mind, as well as knowledge. Then he obtained military strength: tough hearts and tempered bodies of Macedonian and Helenian soldiers. He wanted to multiply his knowledge but multiplied his wealth instead, having taken at once that which was stored over the centuries by a large people in a large country. Due to his youth, he gave away the treasures thoughtlessly, being neither greedy nor wasteful himself. He gave it into hands that were as unworthy as before. Except the prior owners kept it in their own country, and the new ones, having received it easily, spent it on trifles across strange countries, having enriched greedy and calculating merchants and sold for pennies the ancient works of art and tens of thousands of enslaved people. And so

Alexander’s forces fractured and lost any sense of purpose. The natural resistance of the people fighting against the intrusion into their native lands, brought forth savagery, cruel and bloody violence, the killing of the innocents that was offensive to the gods. Instead of studying the land and establishing peace, learning the common traits among the customs, beliefs and goals that unite all people of the world, endless circles of future power struggle emerged along with intrigue and misfortune. And here we are today, several years after the split of the empire. There is still bloodshed and war going on in Hellas, Ionia, Mesopotamia and on the islands of the Green Sea.”

“Then why did it happen that way and not differently, Father?” Thais asked.

“It could not have been different, if he who has power, gold, and the will to alter fates of countries and people, does not understand that each part of his might has a reverse side. This reverse side will inevitably be presented to him by fate unless he is careful. For gold, the result is humiliation, envy, and struggle for wealth in the name of wealth. For power it is cruelty, violence, and murder. For will it is persistence in the use of power and gold and blindness.”

“What can protect us from these evil forces?”

“Love, my daughter. All three of these powerful levers must be used with love and in the name of love toward people.”

“Does not love have a reverse side?”

“Alas, but on a different, more personal level. Relationships between people can bring forth the desire to humiliate others, torture and drown them in mud. Light-filled hearts do not have this, but a member of the mob who has been beaten and humiliated either personally or through his ancestors and relations, can be subject to this.”

“You did not tell me how to guard against this, Father.”

“Always keep to the middle and keep an eye on the edges.”

“Oh, I know. My teacher told me the same thing. Apparently wisdom universally arrives to the same conclusion.”

“Have you read the inscription at the front of this temple?”

“I cannot read the sacred language and ancient writings of Egypt.”

“Meden agan. Nothing superfluous. Moderation is the noblest thing. Ubris, or obnoxious arrogance, is the worst. Know the depths of your heart.”

“The same is inscribed on the temple of Apollo in Delphi.”

“That confirms what you said about universal wisdom.”

“Then the face of higher wisdom turns toward people always and everywhere, bypassing the gods?”

“That is so, but be careful speaking such truths to the faithful of all kinds, both the childishly naïve ones and the fierce fanatics. Truth and kindness shine like torches, lighting the way for those lost in the dark. But one carrying a torch can stumble into a shed of oil that goes up in flames from the slightest spark.”

Thais studied the old priest, then suddenly asked, “Tell me, are you not surprised that the Queen of Egypt does not read Egyptian?”

“No. Do you think many queens knew the sacred language? If so, you are mistaken. You have surpassed many, not just in beauty but also in the knowledge of different faiths. Faith is the soul of the people. It gives origin to customs, laws and people’s behavior. You sing at the ceremony of the Mirror of Isis like a true Egyptian, dance the sacred Scarf Dance like a Finikian, ride a horse like a Libyan, and swim like a Nereid of the Green Sea. This draws to you everyone who inhabits the Black Land.”

“How do you know?”

The old man chuckled.

“Tell me, Father, if I want to know more about the distant lands of Libya and Nubia, will you help me?”

“I shall,” the old priest agreed without hesitation.

Thais started gathering all geographic information, descriptions of rare animals, gems and plants gathered in Egypt over four thousand years. Most discoveries had been made thirty and twenty centuries before by the envoys of the pharaohs of Upper Egypt, who chose Sienna and Elephantine as their residences. These brave and proud people called themselves “chief caravan leaders of the South” and “rulers of all that is and is not”. The young queen particularly liked those titles. The “rulers” mapped a route on land into the depths of the mysterious continent, of which Helenians did not have a clear idea. Not even after Herodotus, although the seafarers of Crete knew more than he did.

The priest and the queen became friends. The people of Memphis came to know that Queen Thais liked to be alone in the evenings, so they never violated her solitude. The Athenian immersed herself into memories during the uncommonly quiet Nile evenings, when the twilight clothed all earthly things in transparent fabric without color or shadow. Thais stopped dreaming and frequently thought about the past. Perhaps it was the sign of approaching old age, with no more visions of the future, longing for things that could not be and desire for a new turn in life.

The observant Athenian could not help but notice the sharp division in the life of the Egyptian people and their rulers. Hellas was different because even during the age of tyranny people and their rulers stood together with common rituals, habits, and duties to the gods and spiritual life.

Egyptian people led their own existence, pitiful and colorless. The rulers made up a small group of the privileged, whose existence had no purpose or sense even to themselves, save for the struggle for power and wealth. When Ptolemy became king, matters did not change — at least not in the heart of Egypt. What was she for then, the Queen of Memphis? Was she to contribute to a bunch of parasites? After her initial enjoyment of the outward side of power faded, Thais began feeling ashamed of it all. She now understood why the monuments and temples fell to ruin, and pride and glory of the illustrious past were being covered with sand. The people, having lost their interest in life, and the nobles who did not understand the meaning of ancient beauty and did not care about anything but small private matters, certainly could not protect the great multitude of architectural and art treasures of Egypt which had accumulated over millennia.

Troubling thoughts tormented Thais. She secluded herself in the upper hall of the palace with its blue ceiling and pillars of black wood, with heavy drapes of pale gray fabric hanging between them, reminding her of the grooved columns of Persepolis palaces.

Harsh daylight reflected the blue ceiling in two enormous metallic mirrors. Thais stood before them, holding a round hand mirror with a handle in the shape of a lioness, and examined herself from head to toe.

Her strong body had lost the daring exaltation of youth, but remained flawless even now that Thais was over thirty-seven years of age and her two children were growing up. It had become stronger, broader, and acquired more pronounced curves but, much like her face, it had withstood life’s trials. Years added some firmness to the outline of her lips and cheeks, but the neck, which is the weakest feature of any woman as she ages, still supported her head proudly, like a marble column skillfully colored by Nikias.

Mischief and a wild desire to do something forbidden still rose in Thais, making her head spin as much as it had during the distant Athenian days. She called Eris and the two of them slipped away from their guards and rode to the dessert. There they stripped off their clothes and galloped around wildly like two naked Amazons, singing Libyan battle hymns until the horses were covered in foam. Then they returned to the palace slowly and properly.

In order to make escape easier from the courtiers and the palace guards, Thais started keeping horses at the house of an old Nubian at the southern edge of the city.

Such rides and swimming in a pond protected from crocodiles were rare. Tired after some long Egyptian ceremony, Thais would spend time playing with her daughter, then spend her evening at the steps of the Neit temple.

The Egyptian girls slept peacefully, wrapped in a blanket. Eris rested her chin on her knees and froze with her eyes wide open. She could acquire a state akin to sleep without sacrificing her watchfulness.

Nikturos, the Nighttime Guardian, shone in the twilight with sinister leaden light, reminding Thais of her first visit to Egypt, when she had been captured to be sacrificed to Sebek and rescued by Menedem, the warrior of herculean courage.

Thais had considered erecting a monument to Egesikhora and Menedem here in Memphis, from where the river carried their ashes to the native seas. Then she changed her mind. The tombstone would have stood alien among thousands of monuments of other feelings and rituals of other faiths. Sculptures of Egesikhora and Menedem would have been as lonely as she was. And when Thais was gone, who would take care of the cenotaph? This was not Hellas, after all, where the beauty of sculptures was something with which people grew. There, it would not occur to anyone to harm a statue.

While the muse lovers in Memphis, especially Helenians, still remembered the gold-haired Spartan, who would know of Menedem, one of thousands of Laconian mercenaries? Thais set aside the idea of the monument. Instead, a beautiful marble frieze was carved in Alexandria and sent to Egesikhora’s and Menedem’s homeland. The appearance of the Night Guardian awoke the grief for those who were gone and vague anxiety in Thais’ heart …

A pleasant bit of news awaited her at the palace. Ptolemy had sent a gorgeous Frakian slave experienced in taking care of horses, and new tack for Boanergos made with stunning workmanship, decorated with red gold to match his color. As before, Ptolemy felt guilty before Thais and made unexpected and luxurious gifts.

In the morning the Athenian ordered the groom to saddle the pacer to show off his new tack. The slave brought out the black-maned horse in his sparkling harness with a skillfully minted piece over his forehead portraying two fighting panthers. Thais patted her equine favorite and kissed his warm nose between the sensitive nostrils. Boanergos neighed gently and rubbed his head against his mistress’ bare shoulder, digging the ground impatiently and chomping at the bit.

Just as Thais was getting ready to mount, Irana’s nanny ran in, screaming that the girl was sick. Tossing the reins to the handsome groom, the Athenian ran back to the palace and found her daughter sick in bed. The girl had run off into the garden and eaten green Persian apples after the nanny had given her some almond cookies.

The palace physician quickly got rid of the stomach ache. Having rubbed down and consoled her daughter, Thais remembered that the pacer was still waiting for her. She hoped he hadn’t lost his patience and broken the fence. Would Eris remember to exercise the horse?

The maid she dispatched to the stables rushed in, accompanied by an old stable-hand. She fell to her knees before the queen and cried out that Boanergos had been poisoned and Eris had vanished with her horse.

The Athenian grabbed the old stableman by the shoulder. The thin fabric of his tunic crackled from the pull.

“I am not at fault, Majesty,” the old man said with dignity. “The horse was poisoned by whoever made the golden tack. Sun of Egypt, go and see for yourself.”

Thais remembered herself, dashed down the stairs and ran to the stables. She was dressed in a short ecsomida for riding instead of a long royal garment and managed to outrun everyone.

Boanergos lay on his left side, having stretched out his legs with his perfect black hooves. A strand of thick mane covered a glassy eye. A sinister shade of blue was spreading in the corner of his lips, stretched by convulsions.

Thais imagined that her faithful horse was looking at her with reproach, expecting her to rescue him. The Queen of Egypt fell to her knees in tears and reached out with both arms to lift the massive head. A strong yank from behind her kept her from touching the pacer. Thais turned around angrily, swift as a panther, and met Eris’ dark gaze. Her friend was breathing heavily. Behind her a guard was holding the reins of her sweaty horse.

“Don’t touch. The entire tack might be poisoned. The accursed slave handled it in gloves and I was stupid enough to imagine he was doing so to avoid staining the sparkling gold. Had you ridden out right away … The Great Goddess is watching over you.”

“Where is the scoundrel? Where is that murderer?”

“I noticed something wrong when he became anxious about your delay, glanced this way and that, and when Boanergos suddenly fell to his knees he ran away. I ran to the horse at first and did not call the guards right away. The disgusting creature managed to get away. They are looking for him.”

Thais straightened out and wiped her tears. “I do not understand the sense in poisoning Boanergos and not me.”

“That would be more difficult. Many people are responsible for your water and food.”

“But what did my poor pacer have to do with this?”

“The poison had delayed action. You would have had just enough time to ride out and put some distance between you and the city. Boanergos would have fallen there.”

“Do you think there was an ambush?”

Instead of answering, Eris took Thais’ hand and led her to the gates. A circle of soldiers separated, their heads bowed, and Thais saw the bodies of two strangers — the Delta residents, judging by their clothes. Their distorted faces and swollen mouths indicated the cause of their deaths.

“Here is proof. We would have both dismounted to take care of the horse and these two had long daggers. I rode to our favorite spot behind the red obelisk with a group of soldiers. We surrounded them, but these hyenas managed to take poison. Whoever sent them was skilled in such matters and supplied everything to cover up the tracks. They knew the time and place of our rides. And here we thought we were riding in seclusion.”

“But you do not think that …”

“Of course not. The courageous warrior, just ruler and lover of women, he is not capable of this. No, I sense the hand of someone experienced in court intrigues, Possibly a woman.”

Thais shuddered and clenched her fists. “Let us go to Boanergos.”

Soldiers and stable-hands stood around the pacer, waiting for instructions.

“Put on gloves and take off the tack,” Thais ordered. She turned to Eris. “If only I had time to think,” she said bitterly. “Whoever sent this gift was careless. Do such people always consider themselves smarter than others?”

“What if it’s proof to someone who feels he deserves a favor?” Eris asked.

“My wise goddess,” the Athenian exclaimed, putting her arms around the black priestess. “Then this was probably not her either?”

Eris nodded in agreement.

“Not her, but someone who would benefit from her being a queen. ‘Benefit’ is a terrible word when it comes from someone who has power over others. So many underhanded deeds are done for that reason.”

Thais made a decision. She turned to the men. “Wrap the tack in canvas, dip it in hot wax and sew it into thick leather. I shall apply my seal. Take my Boanergos to the red obelisk. Make him a grave at the edge of the plateau overlooking the valley. Call the stone carvers working on a new pylon for the Neit temple., I wish to speak with them. I also want to see the royal sculptor, Hab-Au.”

Thais consulted with the craftsmen till evening, until she decided to erect a vertical slab at Boanergos’ tomb with a bold outline of the pacer running toward the rising sun. The sculptor insisted he be permitted to portray the queen and all her sacred names. Thais forbade it and ordered only one inscription in Greek: “Boanergos, horse of Thais.”

At the same time she asked Eris to gather all her favorite things, jewelry and clothes. She ordered all mementos from India and Mesopotamia to be placed in a separate treasury, entrusting the matter to the faithful Roykos. The Thessalian’s family now consisted of seven people, including his second Finikian wife. Thais had long since picked up on the Macedonians’ and Helenians’ attraction toward the Finikian and slant-eyed Scythian women from the distant eastern mountains. Both made splendid wives: faithful, strong and caring hostesses.

Roykos’ eldest son, who was learned in sciences, became a treasurer in Thais’ house. He was ordered to count and gather all liquid cash, gold and valuables, of which there was much.

Having finished with business, Thais settled in an ivory chair.

“What are you thinking about, Mistress queen?” Eris said with uncommon gentleness, running her fingers through Thais’ unraveled black braids.

Thais was silent.

“Has a queen ever abandoned her kingdom and left the country she ruled?” Eris asked. “Would that be a weakness, unsuitable for the elevated state and destiny?”

“If the queen does not rule then her position is imaginary,” Thais replied, matching her tone. “Would it not be smarter to let someone else have this position? Someone who would not be imaginary?”

“In Memphis?”

“In Alexandria. There will be no more queens here, only the envoy who is already running everything. However, it is too soon to speak of it. I want to go to Ptolemy and discuss the circumstances with him.”

“It has not been long since the king expressed his highest appreciation for your contribution here. The information you gathered about Nubia, Punt and Libya in general became a foundation for studying the geography of the entire country at the Alexandrian Museum. He also praised the boatmen of Queen Thais …”

The black priestess spoke of the groups of young people hired by Thais to serve in heavily populated areas along the Nile. Many small children living near the enormous river drowned or were killed by the crocodiles. Swift, light boats with green flags now sailed along the shores, always ready to assist children and animals. Thais was fond of both and they reciprocated with utmost trust.

Eris thought she heard a rustling among the garden shrubs. Putting out the lantern she peeked down.

A dark, windless night enveloped the small palace, which had been chosen by Thais to be her residence in the garden district of Memphis. Leaves did not move, dogs did not bark, only bats dashed around. Both friends could hear their barely audible peeps. Being able to hear the bats was a measurement of age among Helenians and Egyptians. When someone stopped hearing the bats, he turned the corner toward old age.

“I shall go and check the gallery,” Eris whispered. “I am worried about that handsome slave who managed to escape.”

“He wouldn’t dare. Not after his accomplices perished,” Thais objected.

“Possibly. Still, I’d like to check. Do not put on the light.” Eris dissolved in the darkness.

The upper rooms of the palace were aligned along a gallery connected to the open veranda on the east and north sides of the house. The gallery was separated from the veranda by the sliding papyrus hangings, and from the rooms by blue translucent drapes stretched tightly between wood posts. Luminaries were lit along the northern gallery, lighting Thais’ dark room with a semblance of moonlight.

Suddenly, a clear silhouette of a nearly nude man carrying a short stick appeared against the drapes. Thais rose noiselessly, reaching out for something suitable for defense, and picked up an onyx vase that weighed nearly a talant. A second shadow, Eris, appeared behind the first, pulling out her terrible dagger. The first shadow paused and listened. Thais approached slowly, raising the vase above her head. Eris paused as well. The man with the stick stood still, then whistled almost as quietly as a bat. A third shadow with a long knife appeared behind Eris.

All that followed took place almost instantaneously. The first man pulled out a knife from his loincloth and sliced through the drapes. The third shadow, seeing Thais, made a dull warning sound to his accomplice, but the latter had no time to turn around as he received a dagger through his left shoulder.

Thais shouted, “Look out!”

The black priestess turned around and the second assassin attacked her. The Athenian threw the onyx vase at the Frakian’s familiar face as hard as she could. The murderer managed to throw his knife at the same time Thais threw the vase, and Eris fell at the feet of her victim in a pool of blood.

Guards and nearly all of her palace servants rushed in, having heard the queen’s screams. Fortunately, after Ptolemy’s insistence, the staff included a skilled physician.

A dozen luminaries were lit. Thais forbade taking Eris to her room. She was placed on the queen’s bed. The first assassin was dead, but the second was still alive and tried to get up to his knees. Thais pulled out Eris’ sacred dagger and rose it above him, but stopped.

“Shake him,” she ordered the soldiers. “Perhaps he will regain his senses. Pour water on him. Get my interpreter.”

The interpreter ran in. He spoke eight languages. Forgetting about him, the Athenian fell before her friend’s bed while the physician worked quickly on the other side, trying to stop the bleeding. She took Eris’ clammy hand and pressed it against her own cheek.

The black priestess’ eyelids moved, her seemingly unseeing blue eyes opened, then filled with the light of consciousness. A smile touched her gray lips.

“Like a Helenian,” Eris whispered, barely audible.

The queen’s bitter scream made everyone in the room fall to their knees.

“Eris, my beloved friend, do not go! Do not leave me alone!”

Only then did she fully realize how precious to her was this melayna aymi ero, kai kale — black, but beautiful through and through, as Eris’ friends called her. Eris was more dear than anything in the world, more dear than life itself, for life appeared impossible to Thais without the divinely strong, calm and intelligent friend.

All of the queen’s associates respected Eris, despite her outward solemnity. She liked good people and good things, although she never insisted on gaining the friendship of the former or the possession of the latter. She had no false pride and never wished to humiliate others or demand special attention or honors for herself.

Unyielding simplicity, complete absence of unworthy desires and envy gave her strength to get through any challenge. Eris understood from the first glance the innate loveliness of events and objects that most people miss. Her incredible beauty had stopped being a weapon since she’d left the temple of Kibela-Gaea. While poets celebrated her and artists went to great lengths to get her as a model, the Athenian was often surprised how few people understood true meaning and the power of Eris’ beautiful image. Compared to Thais, she appeared more mature. As if she possessed a deeper understanding of matters and things than other people. At times of merriment, Eris equaled the Athenian, who was still a girl at heart, fond of crazy and mischievous tricks.

This divine friend, sent to Thais by the Great Mother or Aphrodite, was departing from her into the dark kingdom. Thais felt as if her heart were also dying, that the shadows of the dead was gathering: Menedem, Egesikhora, Leontiscus, Alexander …

Holding back sobs, Thais whispered a prayer to the three all-powerful goddesses, begging them to bring Eris back. As if in response to her plea, the blue eyes opened again, filled with the warm light of life.

“Do not, grieve, my friend, I shall wait.”

Even in her perilous condition, Eris did not forget her promise to wait for Thais in Hades, in the fields of asphodels along the River, to cross it hand in hand with her friend.

Thais could no longer contain the desperate surge of grief. Roykos decided to send for the high priest of Neit, afraid that the queen would die of shock.

The old priest walked in, catching his breath, but never losing his majestic posture. He leaned over the unconscious Eris, took her hand and held it at length. He then touched the queen’s shoulder. Thais lifted her grief-twisted face and met the calm, sad gaze of her friend.

“I think she will live,” the priest said. Thais caught her breath, unable to speak a word. “I sent for our physicians to help your Helenian. I recall your mentioning the substance from the mountains near Persepolis. Do you still have it?”

“Yes, yes. I’ll get it right away.” Thais rushed for the chest where she kept the fantastic medicines of Mesopotamia, India and Bactriana.

The priest found a dark brown clamp which resembled tree resin, and handed it to the newly-arrived, middle-aged Egyptians wearing simple white robs. Modest but self-assured, they discussed something with the palace physician, crushed a piece of the medicine into some milk, and, unclenching Eris’ teeth, made her drink it. Her wound was covered with a bunch of bluish herb with a strong strange scent, and it was firmly bound.

“Now Your Majesty must drink this,” the priest said, handing Thais half a cup of a drink that looked like transparent, slightly glowing water. “Otherwise the shock you had sustained today may cost you dearly. Wounds of the heart must be treated immediately, for the consequences are distant and uncertain.”

Thais took the cup, remembered something and set it aside.

“I thank you. I have one more thing to take care of. Call the interpreter. What can you tell me?” she asked the pale Finikian waiting for her at the gallery.

“Very little, Queen. The son of hyena only uttered a few words in Frakian. From them, we understood that four assassins were dispatched, which means we got them all. He spoke a name. I wrote it down for fear of a fateful mistake. Here,” the interpreter handed a writing slate to Thais.

“It is a male name, sounds Ionian,” the Athenian said after a pause.

“Your Majesty is correct,” the interpreter said, then bowed.

“Where is the assassin?”

“The son of hyena went mad with pain. We killed him to stop the torture, unsuitable for a living being.”

“You did well. I thank you.”

Returning to the room, Thais listened to Eris’ weak, even breath and addressed the old priest. “Now give me the medicine, my friend. I shall visit you soon, once Eris is out of danger, to ask important advice.”

“I shall expect Your Majesty.” The old man bowed. “And I shall be sad to part with you.”

Thais shuddered, took the cup and downed it at once. One of the Egyptian healers, the Helenian physician, Roykos and his first wife stood watch at Eris’ bed. Assured that Eris would be watched, Thais settled nearby on an additional bed that was brought in for her. Glittering spots flowed before her eyes as the Egyptian potion swiftly acted.

Three days later, Eris was able to sit up in bed. Smiling weakly, she said she had never been that close to the threshold of Hades. Strangely, she said death from loss of blood could be pleasant.

“You simply lose your strength and dissolve in the nothing. Had it not been for you, I would not have wanted to come back,” Eris said, sighing.

“Are you unhappy with me?” the Athenian reproached her gently.

“Do not think that. It is just that the older you become, the more sadness you know from the understanding of life and its unstoppable flow. Once you take the step toward the Great Mother, you do not wish to return. Had it not been for you, I would not have.”

Thais kissed her friend tenderly and her eyes filled with tears again. Eris wiped them off and told Thais she was sleepy.

The next day Thais wanted to go to the Neit temple on foot, but yielded to the black priestess and rode properly in a carriage under fans, accompanied by thirty horsemen. Six huge Nubians accompanied her up the stairs, keeping their hands on their swords and fighting sticks and peering around. Thais smiled inwardly. After eliminating the four assassins, there was no immediate danger, although she had ordered strong guards to remain around Eris’ room.

Everything inside her was singing with joy. Eris was alive, fully able and recovering swiftly. Compared to her own mood, the high priest of Neit appeared thin, aged and sad to her.

“What is wrong, my friend?” Thais asked. “Perhaps you needs a healer’s assistance? Or my brown medicine?”

“Hold on to the medicine. It has the great healing power of Gaea’s sap, flowing from her stone breast. No. I am well. But I am sad because you decided to leave us.”

“You will not judge me for this decision, will you? I made it final after Eris’ wound. She and I are connected in both life and death. I cannot risk a friend who is always ready to offer her body to an assassin’s strike in place of mine. I lost two beloved people here in Memphis and I would have died had I lost this one.”

The old priest told the Athenian of an ancient prophecy about the last Queen of Memphis. The prophecy overlapped incredibly with her own sensibilities. He added the people’s legends about Queen Thais. They said she came from another country, became an Egyptian and was able to absorb the spirit of the Black Land to a degree that the priests of Sais, who kept count of true kings of Egypt, decided to include her in their list by giving her an Egyptian name.

“What is it?”

“That is a secret. Ask them. You can stop by Sais on your way to Alexandria.”

“I do not deserve this,” Thais objected sadly. “Couldn’t the Egyptians see that I only played a role someone handed down to me?”

“If an actress plays a role and awakens in people the memory of their past, noble feelings of the present and thoughts of the future, is she not a messenger of gods and a hand of destiny?”

“Then she is obligated to continue, even at the price of her life.”

“No. All things predetermined end. The role ends when the forces of the dark western deserts threaten the theater itself. The spectacle will end tragically, causing fear and putting out the newly-born aspirations.”

The Queen of Memphis suddenly knelt at the feet of the old Egyptian. “Thank you, my friend,” she said. “Allow me to call you Father, for who else but a father could be a spiritual teacher of ignorant people? I am fortunate. Here, in your temple Memphis, I studied with the wise man from Delos, then with Lysippus and now, in my loneliness, I have found you here. Allow me to make a large sacrifice to Neit. I can also give a hundred bulls to Artemis for saving my friend.”

“Only at the lowest level do people require bloody sacrifices to pacify the gods and destiny. That is because they place their gods at the same level as themselves or even with beasts of prey. It is a heritage of dark ages, a custom of barbarian hunters. Do not do this. It is better to give the money to some worthy cause. I shall accept a bloodless sacrifice so I may continue teaching true ways to young seekers of truth.”

“What about Neit? Would a few people educated in true knowledge be more dear to the goddess than senseless animals roaring under the knife and drowning in blood?”

“Then why do we carry on with these rituals and sacrifices?”

The old man smiled weakly, glanced around and, once assured of the absence of strangers, said, “Stupid and self-centered philosophers of other faiths had often asked questions they considered blasphemous. If your god is so powerful, then why does he allow people to be stupid? If he is all-knowing, then why does he need temples, priests and rituals?”

“And the answer is?” Thais asked anxiously.

“A god occupied by people’s affairs and acting like a human only exists in the imagination of people whose imagination runs shallow. He is needed at their level of faith, as one needs a place for concentration and prayer, as one needs the intermediaries, the priests. Millions of people still demand religion. Otherwise they lose all faith and, therefore their moral rules, without which states and cities cannot exist. That is why, while people are still ignorant, we protect ancient faiths, even after having rid ourselves of superstition and fallacy. Very few, even among wise rulers, know that people’s morality, their upbringing in dignity and respect of their elders, labor and beauty are more important for the fate of people and countries. They are more important than siege machines, elephants, armored soldiers and multi-oar ships. All this falls when people’s morality and upbringing diminishes. People great and small plunge themselves into drinking and savage revelry. Faith, honor and dignity drown in wine, the love of one’s homeland and traditions of the forefathers fade away. Many kingdoms of Mesopotamia and Persia perished that way. The doom of Egypt approaches, as well as that of Hellas, Carthage, and the still-young Rome, menacing with its legions. The most important things upon which a man stands are not weapons or war, but morality and laws of behavior among one’s own people and others.”

“You said Hellas too, Father.”

“Yes, Majesty. I am aware you are Helenian, but have you not noticed that the lower the morality and dignity among the people, the more the people try to prove their superiority over others by humiliating them? Even such great scholars as Aristotle have excelled in this lowly business. The poison had penetrated that far.”

“Alexander had always opposed Aristotle,” Thais objected.

“And I thank him for that. Do not rush to grieve. Even now the savage separation between people is giving way to the ideas of equality and unification.”

“I know about the stoics, Father.”

“There are more ancient teachers. You shall remember them when you have time to ponder.”

“And our beautiful gods …” the Athenian said.

The priest raised a hand in warning. “I am not touching your Olympians, who were alien to us before, although lately the beliefs of Hellas and Egypt have been converging in common deities. You must not touch them either. Understanding requires many years of thinking and working through old feelings. Hastiness would only lead to one thing: the loss of faith in a man’s life and future. Be careful.”

Thais kissed the old priest’s hand and returned to the waiting carriage.

Preparations for her journey went unnoticed. Still, rumors spread about the queen’s impending journey to her husband in Alexandria. Roykos’ family, well established in Memphis, was leaving with Thais. They were leaving without regret because the head of the family and his first wife could not part with the mistress, and the Finikian was dying to get to the sea. Irana’s nanny was coming too. She was a young, half-Helenian, half-Libyan who was sufficiently educated for the family. She was not a slave, but had become attached to the little girl and had eyes for Roykos’ eldest son.

Prior to their departure, Thais took the still-weak Eris on a boat ride among the blooming lotuses. The boat glided noiselessly across a wide lake, rustling as it cut through copses of blue flowers and large thick leaves.

Once upon a time lotuses had bloomed here as she’d taken a boat ride with Menedem. Was her royal privilege: the luxurious gilded boat, the striped tent, the well-trained Nubian oarsmen better or more enjoyable? Never.

Young people always yearn for a more elevated status, unaware of the price they will pay. They have no idea that youth will eventually come to an end and the time will come when they would be willing to give up all they had acquired so they could return to the happy hours of their outwardly simple, but spiritually deep life and emotions of youth. Perhaps power and wealth would blind them and make them forget the past. That seemed to happen to many people. Just as well, if that made them happy. Presently there was no greater joy than to watch Eris’ thin face livened by the surrounding beauty, and to listen to the happy chatter of little Irana. Thais’ farewell to Egypt would remain beautiful in her memory.

Thais opted to leave at an early hour, to avoid too much notice, and kept the time of her departure secret. Regardless, a huge crowd of Memphis citizens showed up to see Thais off. They were genuinely sad and invited her to come back soon. Hundreds of wreaths made of sacred lotus flew into the water and onto the deck of her ship. Lotus was only allowed to be picked for such exceptional occasions.

The ship undocked quietly, water splashed, and houses, temples and pyramids sailed away. Thais would never see the strange ancient city again, though she had given it so much of her soul and so many years of her life. She would never come back to the philosophers’ retreat, the Neit temple. It was ton eona again. Forever.