There were mutterings about darning and patching, but nobody held out serious hope in that direction. It would take more than a clever housewife's needle to make this tattered bobtail into a kingly garment again.
We reached the first of the sharp-angled bows which the Nile describes between Delta and Athribis. Here we shifted places to relieve Zazamanx at the oars, so that he could watch the channel. I asked Manethôs :
"Are we likely to be pursued, and if so, how far?"
"I know not. It would take time for Tis to recover his wits and set the pursuit in order. And how would his thieves pursue? I have seen no river boats following upon our wake.
"The swiftest way would be by horse; and, even so, the horses would have to be shipped across the river, because of our taking the Phatnitic fork. To get horses, Tis must needs arouse his crony Alkman and persuade that lion in human form to send forth a troop of cavalry. Mmm. Also, we have long since left the Province of the White Wall, where runs Alkman's writ. I doubt that even so forceful a fellow as he would send his horsemen galloping athwart his fellow strategoi's jurisdictions without their leave. To win their permission would consume precious time; nor is it easy, without guidance, to pick one's way amongst the labyrinth of canals that divides up the Delta. By noon today, the gods willing, shall we have two entire provinces on either bank between us and Alkman's land.
"So, provided that we row blisters on our hands and then row them off again today, we should be beyond immediate danger. But think not to settle down quietly anywhere in Egypt for a lengthy stay without being smelt out by Tis's knaves. I know something of how these archthieves work. One will send stabbers and poisoners after those who cross him, or persuade or bribe one of his fellow lords of the underworld, in whose territory a foe has taken refuge, to take up the quarrel on his behalf. Especially"—Manethôs dropped his voice and cast a glance towards Amenardis, who was looking at the robe—"if his unfriend has taken something that the archthief considers his."
"How far can we get today?" I asked.
Manethôs spoke in Egyptian to Horos, then said: "At this rate we should be in Bousiris by dinnertime."
Amenardis, holding up the remains of the robe, spoke: "Chares, no use trying to mend this thing. Must have another one made. Who you know who make things like this?"
Although as a man in love I was not inclined to find fault with Amenardis, I felt a slight stir of resentment at being told what to do in so peremptory a manner. However, an idea struck me with such force as to leave no room for pettier feelings.
"Zeus!" I cried. "The very thing! Azarias lives in Bousiris; he weaves silk; and he's promised to help me whenever I need assistance."
Manethôs looked as if he had tasted something sour. "Must you resort to this Judaean?" he said. "With a little time I could find you an Egyptian weaver who could do the work better."
"One who could weave silk?"
"Belike not; this is a new craft in the land of Chem. Only, I pray, believe the Judaean not when he fills you full of lies about our holy religion."
"What sort of lies?" I asked.
"That we perform abominable rites, that we worship brute beasts instead of true gods, and so forth. Foreigners who have never studied our religion often entertain mistaken notions about it. They hear the myths of Seth's cutting Osiris in pieces, and Isis' causing a serpent to bite Ra, and they suppose that we take all these tales literally."
"Why, don't you?"
"Well, that is true among the lower classes, who must have simple stories, literally believed, to strengthen their faith and to keep their feet on the path of virtue. But, I assure you, not true is it among the better educated, or among the priesthood—save, perhaps, among a small group of literal-minded reactionaries. The rest of us know that these tales are allegories, embodying symbolic truths. The sacred animals symbolize various aspects of divinity. The real Thôth is not a man with the head of an ibis; he is the symbol of cosmic intelligence. Isis and Osiris represent the moon and the sun respectively.
"Know, O Hellene, that the universe is ruled by a single superagency or godhead, whom you call Zeus. This divinity, however, manifests Itself in multiple ways. Ammon is the soul of the godhead; Ra is its head; Phtha is its body. Three in one; unity in triplicily."
"Do you mean that God is one and three at the same time?" said I. "That sounds like a paradox."
"Ah, that only shows you have not studied these mysteries. I will explain this holy trinity." Manethôs brought out his bronze drinking cup, which ho always carried lest he be polluted by using common vessels. "Behold this cup. It is one, yet has it an inner surface, and an outer surface, and the metal which fills the space between the two. Therefore it, like the godhead, has a threefold manifestation ..."
The priest went on in that vein for some time. Puzzled but thoughtful, I left him to take my turn at an oar. We swept again through the Delta, with its hazy air, its rustling palm groves of emerald green, its black wet earth, its creaking swapes, and its humming mosquitoes.
At Leontopolis we stopped to buy food and stretch our legs, presenting an ominous sight in our bloody bandages. At my request, Manethôs took us to the temple of Sechmetis, where the sacred lion and his mate are kept, for I had never seen a live lion. Two lazier-looking cats I never saw, sleeping in the sunshine and not moving save to flick their ears when the flies assailed them. We were told that they were the earthly incarnations of the god Sous and the goddess Tephnis. I suppose the fees the priests collected from us went in part to keep the god and goddess in beefsteaks.
Amenardis squeezed my arm. "Darling," she gurgled, "they beautiful. Someday you get me lion."
"Ye gods, woman, what would you do with a lion?"
"Make him obey."
"I'll wager you could, at that."
On the way back to the Hathor I asked Dikaiarchos: "Did you hear that sermon from Manethôs?"
"I couldn't help hearing, on so small a ship."
"I must be stupid," I said. "I don't doubt that his talk is full of profound hidden truths, but I find it terribly hard to understand."
Dikaiarchos laughed. "I'll tell you a secret, Chares. I cannot understand it, either."
"You, sir?"
"Yes. It may be that we are both stupid, or it may be that there is nothing to understand. It is a good practical rule that, if a man cannot explain himself in terms that any reasonably intelligent listener can comprehend, he doesn't know what he is talking about himself. So you need not feel that your orthodoxy is threatened by these finespun speculations."
"Oh, I'm not really orthodox, sir. Once I tended towards Theodoros' atheism."
"And what happened to change your course?"
"Well, certain of my prayers to Helios, in time of peril, were answered in a way that inclines me to return to the faith of my fathers. Theodoros' viewpoint may be logical, but it leaves one with none but mortal men to take as one's ideals; and men, I find, seldom merit such devotion. An artist needs such an ideal to give him stability and direction. Do you think that foolish of me?"
"Not if your religion really helps you to wisdom and virtue. I manage to be reasonably virtuous without a religion, but then we are not all made alike."
"Are you of Theodoros' opinion, then?" I asked.
"Not quite. I think he may be right about there being no gods or spirits, but I'm not so cocksure about asserting it as a proven fact. You might call my view 'agnosticism'."
"Don't you find it disquieting never to know where you stand?"
Dikaiarchos chuckled. "I am often asked that question. The fact is that I like to live floating in a sea of doctrinal uncertainty. It is a good state of mind for a philosopher. Although most folk find it terrifying, it enables a man of thought more readily to seize upon small bits of authentic truth as they whirl past. The reason is that such a man's perception is not limited by a preconceived credo as one's physical vision is limited by the eye slits of a closed helmet.