THE RIGH OF ASYLUM
(Excerpt from the historical novel)
Year of publishing:1997
Publisher: Argo
Dressed only in dark chitons so as to be hidden in the moonlight, and armed with daggers, we broke into the holy precinct over the garden wall. We crept from behind the temple of Horus until we stopped in front of a wall built of massive blocks. Clinging to the stone, we saw a priest approaching. He wore two feathers on his bald head and a ribbon diagonally across his chest. The priest carried a torch and walked directly to the low entrance and brushed inside. We waited for a while. Distant singing sounded from the depths of the temple. We carried our sandals in our hands and slipped indoors.
The music and singing intensified. We shuffled our bare feet on the pavement, feeling our way blindly with our hands on the walls, led by the growing sound. Suddenly I felt a heavy curtain instead of stone. I got scared, but Euclid eagerly pushed me forward. Regretting my weakness against Euclid, I thought of my promise to Beneret that I would not intrude. If we were caught, our lives would be lost. I thought that if we got back safely, I would never again drink intoxicating Egyptian beer.
We carefully lifted a corner of the curtain to see into the temple nave. I felt my hands sweating and the blood throbbing in my head, feeling not only fear, curiosity and excitement, but also some deep memories.
In my mind’s eye, I saw again the ghostly temples of Anaite, once more by the power of their mysteries; rites and rituals that are hardly understandable even for the learned ones, because the real sages have been dead for many generations. The old, mysterious, legendary rituals here have survived the arrival of the clear and temperate ceremonies of Hellas!
The light shrines of Greeks were noble and pleasant for visitors, but I must confess that I never felt there the proximity of the gods and the feeling of awe before superhuman powers. Perhaps that's why I found myself deep in the memories of my childhood in Zariaspa, and I was blown by the light whiff of nostalgia.
Oil lamps smoked, sputtered and emitted irritating smells of unknown herbs. We could see a long line of girls in white robes. They held before them in both hands little baskets with pink lotus petals. Wide, colored collars and narrow, ribbon belts made them look like unreal beings in the flickering twilight. From the front of the nave, in the dimness, we could hear singsong recitation, complete with choruses. The rhythmic sequences of Osiris´ drums beat in our ears. The excited and mournful voice of a principal priest came to us, deep and almost inhuman.
The massive stone beams of the low ceiling seemed as if they were about to crush the gathering. The columns that supported the roof were covered with inscriptions from top to bottom.
On the boat-shaped altar were standing pictures of important gods. I discovered Horus, the falcon-headed god with eyes of red, sparkling rubies; Isis with the vulture-winged headdress; and the god-creator Ptah, constricted in a tight garment like a mummy. Other deities I did not know, nor a statue of a man with outstretched arms and wings. In the rising spirals of frankincense fumes the statues of the gods seemed to be beginning to move.
"What are you looking at so intently?" whispered Euclid, pushing over me to see better. He eagerly nudged me on the shoulder. "You are as frozen as if you had looked at the face of Medusa!"
The rhythm of the rattles and the concentration of the people gathered there really bewitched me, and I couldn´t take my eyes off of that so very familiar face. I had to think for a moment to realize where I know her from, and it seemed so inconceivable that it had been from this morning.
"Not of Medusa," I whispered brokenly, "but of Isis, or better yet, of Aphrodite herself! She is as natural in her simplicity as the lotus, which climbs from the muddy bottom and comes into bloom in the sunshine with its immaculate whiteness. She´s like a little girl and a grown woman at the same time."
Beneret stood a few feet away from me on the edge of a number of priestesses, singing intently, her dark eyes frowning slightly in concentration.
The chanting and singing seemed to go on endlessly. Euclid tugged my chiton:
"If you could live in Hellas for a thousand years, you couldn’t conceal your barbaric origin," he chuckled into his palm, "Your eternal amazement of an ordinary day is the fate of barbarian eyes. I prefer the cultivated taste of Jewish, Greek, or even Persian girls over those Egyptians. Their appearance is dull and their ceremonial manners are boring. I don´t understand why you are interested in the girl you are showing me. She is too small for my taste. I prefer thinner girls from the Delta rather than those with large buttocks and feet so long, like statues. They are as numerous along the Nile as mice in the pantry! She couldn´t be compared with our hetaires from King Alexander! "
Euclid exaggerated in his usual bullshit manner, but I did not want to argue with him.
I said into his ear:
"I don’t care about Egyptian girls‘ buttocks and legs. This girl is the essence of pure beauty, Plato's idea of beauty itself, and moreover she has probably put some sort of spell on me! Do you know that Egyptians are well-known for their art of witchcraft? She is the same girl that I met today at dawn in the garden!"
A mischievous gleam suddenly flashed in Euclid’s eyes.
"Then we’ll just have to fight against her Egyptian magic spell with Greek ones. I remember an old myth from school in which a man sent an apple to a woman with a message of his favor. By coincidence there is a lectern over there with a reed pen, ink and a pile of ribbons nearby, which they use for making their scribbles! And there are some apples in a bowl with the offerings! I will crawl over there and get them!"
He began to crawl around the curtain. It stirred a bit as he accidentally brushed against it. With apprehension I watched his actions and prayed no one would hear the rustling sounds he produced. Fortunately the Osiris drums began to roar, blocking out the noise he made.
Scurrying back to the doorway, Euclid handed me an apple, a ribbon and writing tools:
"Now you can send her a proposal for a meeting." He beamed, proud of his successful plunder, and lifted the corner of the curtain so that the light from the temple nave penetrated to us. Meanwhile, I recalled the old story about Acontius and Kydippe, and Euclid’s idea excited me. I didn´t consider the possible consequences, thinking only of Beneret.
I used my sparse knowledge of demotic fonts and wrote these words on the ribbon:
The music and singing intensified. We shuffled our bare feet on the pavement, feeling our way blindly with our hands on the walls, led by the growing sound. Suddenly I felt a heavy curtain instead of stone. I got scared, but Euclid eagerly pushed me forward. Regretting my weakness against Euclid, I thought of my promise to Beneret that I would not intrude. If we were caught, our lives would be lost. I thought that if we got back safely, I would never again drink intoxicating Egyptian beer.
We carefully lifted a corner of the curtain to see into the temple nave. I felt my hands sweating and the blood throbbing in my head, feeling not only fear, curiosity and excitement, but also some deep memories.
In my mind’s eye, I saw again the ghostly temples of Anaite, once more by the power of their mysteries; rites and rituals that are hardly understandable even for the learned ones, because the real sages have been dead for many generations. The old, mysterious, legendary rituals here have survived the arrival of the clear and temperate ceremonies of Hellas!
The light shrines of Greeks were noble and pleasant for visitors, but I must confess that I never felt there the proximity of the gods and the feeling of awe before superhuman powers. Perhaps that's why I found myself deep in the memories of my childhood in Zariaspa, and I was blown by the light whiff of nostalgia.
Oil lamps smoked, sputtered and emitted irritating smells of unknown herbs. We could see a long line of girls in white robes. They held before them in both hands little baskets with pink lotus petals. Wide, colored collars and narrow, ribbon belts made them look like unreal beings in the flickering twilight. From the front of the nave, in the dimness, we could hear singsong recitation, complete with choruses. The rhythmic sequences of Osiris´ drums beat in our ears. The excited and mournful voice of a principal priest came to us, deep and almost inhuman.
The massive stone beams of the low ceiling seemed as if they were about to crush the gathering. The columns that supported the roof were covered with inscriptions from top to bottom.
On the boat-shaped altar were standing pictures of important gods. I discovered Horus, the falcon-headed god with eyes of red, sparkling rubies; Isis with the vulture-winged headdress; and the god-creator Ptah, constricted in a tight garment like a mummy. Other deities I did not know, nor a statue of a man with outstretched arms and wings. In the rising spirals of frankincense fumes the statues of the gods seemed to be beginning to move.
"What are you looking at so intently?" whispered Euclid, pushing over me to see better. He eagerly nudged me on the shoulder. "You are as frozen as if you had looked at the face of Medusa!"
The rhythm of the rattles and the concentration of the people gathered there really bewitched me, and I couldn´t take my eyes off of that so very familiar face. I had to think for a moment to realize where I know her from, and it seemed so inconceivable that it had been from this morning.
"Not of Medusa," I whispered brokenly, "but of Isis, or better yet, of Aphrodite herself! She is as natural in her simplicity as the lotus, which climbs from the muddy bottom and comes into bloom in the sunshine with its immaculate whiteness. She´s like a little girl and a grown woman at the same time."
Beneret stood a few feet away from me on the edge of a number of priestesses, singing intently, her dark eyes frowning slightly in concentration.
The chanting and singing seemed to go on endlessly. Euclid tugged my chiton:
"If you could live in Hellas for a thousand years, you couldn’t conceal your barbaric origin," he chuckled into his palm, "Your eternal amazement of an ordinary day is the fate of barbarian eyes. I prefer the cultivated taste of Jewish, Greek, or even Persian girls over those Egyptians. Their appearance is dull and their ceremonial manners are boring. I don´t understand why you are interested in the girl you are showing me. She is too small for my taste. I prefer thinner girls from the Delta rather than those with large buttocks and feet so long, like statues. They are as numerous along the Nile as mice in the pantry! She couldn´t be compared with our hetaires from King Alexander! "
Euclid exaggerated in his usual bullshit manner, but I did not want to argue with him.
I said into his ear:
"I don’t care about Egyptian girls‘ buttocks and legs. This girl is the essence of pure beauty, Plato's idea of beauty itself, and moreover she has probably put some sort of spell on me! Do you know that Egyptians are well-known for their art of witchcraft? She is the same girl that I met today at dawn in the garden!"
A mischievous gleam suddenly flashed in Euclid’s eyes.
"Then we’ll just have to fight against her Egyptian magic spell with Greek ones. I remember an old myth from school in which a man sent an apple to a woman with a message of his favor. By coincidence there is a lectern over there with a reed pen, ink and a pile of ribbons nearby, which they use for making their scribbles! And there are some apples in a bowl with the offerings! I will crawl over there and get them!"
He began to crawl around the curtain. It stirred a bit as he accidentally brushed against it. With apprehension I watched his actions and prayed no one would hear the rustling sounds he produced. Fortunately the Osiris drums began to roar, blocking out the noise he made.
Scurrying back to the doorway, Euclid handed me an apple, a ribbon and writing tools:
"Now you can send her a proposal for a meeting." He beamed, proud of his successful plunder, and lifted the corner of the curtain so that the light from the temple nave penetrated to us. Meanwhile, I recalled the old story about Acontius and Kydippe, and Euclid’s idea excited me. I didn´t consider the possible consequences, thinking only of Beneret.
I used my sparse knowledge of demotic fonts and wrote these words on the ribbon:
Thou highest God I invoke you by your holy name,
give Beneret to Korrhagus as woman to man!
give Beneret to Korrhagus as woman to man!
Euclid had tremendous fun. The amorous problems of others were a favorite diversion for him.
I wrapped the ribbon around the apple and tied it. When the choir paused and the musicians struck their tiny harps, I rolled the apple on the ground to the girl's feet. It passed under the curtain and gift stand, encountered Beneret´s toes, rolled around them and stopped in a space between her feet. Euclid and I were almost whooping at that successful strike.
What followed, however, exceeded all expectations!
Beneret started, looked at the ground and then picked up the apple. The girl beside her, curious, leaned over and whispered something. Beneret turned the apple, her lips moving as she quietly read the message.
At that moment, the lamps and open fires in the dishes began to quickly fade. Almost total darkness fell over all. Only the light from some narrow vents over the altar penetrated the twilight. A fearful groan came out from dozens of throats and a sudden gust moved across the aisle, as if some Giant breathed.
Muffled cries, the crack of crushed vessels, the falling of candlesticks, and the flapping of bare feet on pavement was heard. Euclid convulsively clutched my forearm.
At that moment, it was as if a huge mass of water flooded the temple space to the ceiling. I had no breath and I grabbed my throat in panic.
"Away, away from here!" Euclid squealed, "It is witchcraft!"
I had never heard so much anxiety in his voice.
I wrapped the ribbon around the apple and tied it. When the choir paused and the musicians struck their tiny harps, I rolled the apple on the ground to the girl's feet. It passed under the curtain and gift stand, encountered Beneret´s toes, rolled around them and stopped in a space between her feet. Euclid and I were almost whooping at that successful strike.
What followed, however, exceeded all expectations!
Beneret started, looked at the ground and then picked up the apple. The girl beside her, curious, leaned over and whispered something. Beneret turned the apple, her lips moving as she quietly read the message.
At that moment, the lamps and open fires in the dishes began to quickly fade. Almost total darkness fell over all. Only the light from some narrow vents over the altar penetrated the twilight. A fearful groan came out from dozens of throats and a sudden gust moved across the aisle, as if some Giant breathed.
Muffled cries, the crack of crushed vessels, the falling of candlesticks, and the flapping of bare feet on pavement was heard. Euclid convulsively clutched my forearm.
At that moment, it was as if a huge mass of water flooded the temple space to the ceiling. I had no breath and I grabbed my throat in panic.
"Away, away from here!" Euclid squealed, "It is witchcraft!"
I had never heard so much anxiety in his voice.
Translation: Kathy Ree Morrison and Luděk Wellner
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