“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.