Glory and the Lightning (21 page)

At last he was done and he threw the whip from him with a sound like detestation. She pushed herself to her feet, her whole body in torment. She could feel a trickling of blood between her shoulder blades. Calmly, then, not looking at him, she attempted to cover her nakedness with the remnants of her torn clothing.

Then his hands were suddenly on her, and he was kissing the welts on her back and the broken flesh with a passion she had never known him to display before, even at the most ecstatic moments. He was uttering gasping words, incoherent, almost moaning. Dazed, she endured it. He brought a brazen bowl of water and a jar of unguents and dressed her wounds and soothed the swollen welts. His hands were as tender as a woman’s.

“Ah, that you did this to me!” he cried.

Sick and dizzy and only half-conscious, she closed her eyes. Then she was in his arms and he was holding her against his breast and kissing her face, brow, cheek and lips and throat, and she could hear the thundering of his heart against hers. Without her own will her arms lifted and she put them about his neck and began to weep, and did not know why the pain in her breast, more awful than the pain in her flesh, subsided, leaving an anguished sweetness behind it.

CHAPTER 12

Though Aspasia was overcome by her emotions as she traversed the long blue and white halls to her own chamber she was aware of a peculiar pent silent in the palace, and understood that her humiliation at the hands of Al Taliph had flown through all corridors and rooms like a bird, and that, without her hearing a sound, all were maliciously gleeful and triumphant. Her body smarted unbearably, in spite of the unguents, and she held her torn garments about her and lifted her head, conscious of unseen and gloating eyes behind fretwork and curtain. Her hair hung about her in disorder, and she threw it back from her burning shoulders.

Calmly enough she told the slaves that she had decided on other dress, and they brought forth an eastern robe of scarlet and gold. She permitted the maidens to bathe her again and anoint her bruises and welts with unguents. She had not been relieved from attending the banquet given by Al Taliph. She perfumed herself with attar of jasmine and wore an Egyptian necklace of large stones and golden fringes and wound strands of pearls through her hair. She was deathly pale, the natural vermillion of her complexion and lips absent. She applied herself to the paint-pots and clasped her waist with a gilded girdle, which blazed.

She glanced through the barred arched window of her chamber and saw the brilliant and burning gold of sunset outlining the ochre mountains. The air was pervaded with aureate dust on the plain and the valley below, and shadows were purple. Everything seemed dreamlike to her, and unusually silent, and the violent colors of sky and earth and mountains became alien. She thought, I must leave him, and the next moment she said to herself, That I cannot do, for it may be that I love him while I hate him also. She could not understand her own conflicting agitations, at once infuriated and then composed, at once full of hatred and resentment, and then melting. She wanted to weep again but her eyelids had become dry and aching. Then something emerged from her chaotic thoughts:

When she left this place she would go to Athens and establish a school like Thargelia’s, but not with its lustful teachings. It would be academe for girls of intelligence and gifts so that never would they be mere concubines with a smattering of learning to intrigue powerful men. The young ladies would be taught professions—Then Aspasia thought, wearily: To what end, when women are so despised even in civilized Attica and their minds and souls deprecated? She had another thought, and it was exhilarating. An educated and learned woman, in the company of similar sisters, could be a force again in Greece, could come to terms—and not through lust—with the men with whom they associated. The power of their minds would be greater than the power of their beauty, for beauty was evanescent but the spirit grew in stature if nourished. It was said that in Egypt royal women had enormous influence on their Pharaoh husbands and in matters of state, and that well-born girls were almost as expertly educated as their brothers. It was not even denied women to be rulers of Egypt. In Greece there were priestesses, and in Egypt also, and in the latter country the goddess Isis was adored even more than Horus and Osiris, and she had special priests to attend her altars. Women were not considered unclean in Egypt, and if they had private quarters it was at their own wish and husbands and sons could not invade except by special permission.

If this was possible in other countries it could again be possible in Greece. As for Persia—Aspasia shrugged, then winced with pain. She put the matter far back in her consciousness and, serene as an eastern goddess, and as haughty, she made her way to the banquet hall to join Al Taliph, who had just summoned her. The halls and corridors were now lighted by lamps and torches thrust into walls and the yellow and crimson shadows flickered over white and blue floors and on draperies of many colors. The gardens were now dark but the nightingales had begun to sing. Pots of incense smoldered in all the corners of the halls and the warm air was heavy with it, overcoming even the delicate scent of flowers in the huge Chinese vases. Aspasia saw no one except the figures of alert eunuchs. Now a desert wind came through the arches, parched, gustily hot, which did not cool but only enhanced the heat of stone and earth and mountain. It also carried with it an aromatic odor of pepper and spice as it blew over the land.

A eunuch held aside the curtains to the dining hall for her and she saw his smirk, only half-hidden. She entered the hall, which was large, its marble floor almost completely covered by Persian carpets of endless colors and patterns. The walls were alive with mosaics, and elaborate patterns of flowers and trees and hideous monsters, all lavishly painted. Al Taliph sat in his alcove on a divan heaped with cushions, so that he half-reclined in the small enclosure. The other guests sat cross-legged on vast cushions of silk on the floor, with very low individual brass tables before them laden with gilt wine vessels and Chinese plates and spoons and knives, in the eastern manner. At a distance there were musicians, all men, softly playing on flute and zither and harp. Large brazen lamps hung from the domed and frescoed ceiling, burning perfumed oils and throwing shifting light over the guests. Slaves were hurrying on muted feet with platters and jugs of wine.

Al Taliph was gorgeously arrayed in cloth of gold with a sash of red silk, embroidered heavily, and with gold tassels. He wore a headcloth of cloth of gold also, held by knots of jeweled cord. Never had he appeared so darkly handsome to Aspasia, nor so desirable, for all the fresh hatred she felt for him and the sick longing in her heart. He was conversing with his guests and did not halt at her entrance, but languidly summoned her to his divan in the recess with a wave of his hand. She made her way in silence to the divan and was permitted, as usual, to sit at his feet. For an instant she was dimly conscious of hearing a man gasp, then appear to choke. But as Al Taliph’s guests were invariably astonished at her beauty it was of no immediate significance to her.

There were several men present, all resplendent in their robes, and turbans, eating and drinking with flattering voracity, and listening to their host. Aspasia hardly saw them. She was not permitted to speak unless addressed by Al Taliph, or his guests. She sat silently at his feet, all rose and gold and marble whiteness, and her hands were clasped in her lap. Occasionally, as if caressing a favored dog, Al Taliph would idly stroke her bare arm or shoulder or throat, or lift a lock of her hair, then would let the lock fall carelessly. For the first time her cheeks became hot and flushed at this treatment, but she did not shrink. It would only surprise and anger him, and she had come to fear his anger. Her flesh trembled, in spite of herself, at his touch, and she despised her own lack of control over her senses even while she yielded voluptuously to them. To divert herself she stared at the fabulous gemmed rings on his fingers until her eyes ached.

Al Taliph was not only governor of his province, he was also a very rich and astute merchant. He owned many bazaars in the city and also in other cities, fleets of vessels, caravans, a bank and countless olive groves, fields, orchards and meadows and multitudes of sheep and cattle and goats. He was invested in prosperous manufactories and was the possessor of jewelry and curio shops in profusion, including priceless objects of art. It was alleged he was a stern usurer in addition to all else, but never had he been accused of looting his province as did other governors, and his judgments, though severe, were invariably honorable. Not only was he received with respect at the court of Artaxerxes, but was famous in Samarkand, Persepolis, Naksh-i-Rustam, Kerman and Kashan, and in Damascus. All these things did Aspasia know, and she felt his power and both resented and adored it.

Surely, she thought to herself as she sat at his feet and listened to the laughter and conversation—in multiple tongues—of the men, the glory and the lightning of the human soul should not be suppressed in women.

She glanced at the guests, whom she had never seen before, but from their appearance she guessed that two were Babylonians, one was a Mede, two were Egyptians, three were Syrians, four were dark-skinned Arabians, two were Indians, one was a Greek, and the last, a young man with lascivious eyes and auburn curls—Her heart lifted in horror and panic and a dazed terror. She was gazing at Thalias, and in return he was gazing at her with the same appalled emotions, which she did not at first discern.

Al Taliph never introduced Aspasia to his guests, nor them to her. Her position was recognized at once: She was not a slave, she was something more than a favorite concubine, she was not a wife, for she was permitted to leave the women’s quarters and allowed to speak when addressed. As the guests were invariably rich men of some learning and intelligence and travel, many remembered the hetairai of which they had heard or had seen for themselves, and not an inconsiderable number respected a hetaira for both her beauty and her intellect. They were women apart from both harems and prosaic marriages, and frequently they had power. So if some were offended by the presence of a woman at Al Taliph’s dinners, the others were pleased to look upon Aspasia and even to listen to her conversation, and Al Taliph was often envied for possessing such a treasure.

He was an intuitive man, as well as subtle, and though he treated Aspasia when among his guests with none of the tender consideration and attentiveness he displayed to her in private, his awareness of her presence, the imminence of her body, her very breathing, was singularly acute. He knew when she suffered ennui, when she was distressed, weary or uninterested during these dinners in his dining hall. Her dignity and calm in spite of these things were admirable to him, and he thrilled with pride in her. Therefore, he now knew that she was deeply disturbed, that her flesh had become rigid, that something had assaulted her emotions, and that, mysteriously, she was frightened.

He continued to speak with one of the Egyptians, but he sharply glanced at her through the corner of his eye, and he wondered. She had not as yet been addressed; he had not spoken to her, himself. Was she in pain? It was true that her pallor made the vermillion cosmetics on her cheeks and lips too vivid, but there were no contractures of brow or chin which would indicate physical suffering. He had been conversing in the Egyptian language with one of his guests, a tongue with which she was not familiar, so she could have taken no offense though the conversation was delicately lewd. (Above all things Aspasia was never lewd.) She had not been suddenly seized by illness, for she was remarkably healthy. He saw her staring as at a basilisk at one of the guests, and then he saw her look away. A faint shudder ran through her and Al Taliph perceived this.

At whom had she been gazing? His eye studied all his guests, one by one, while he continued to talk and smile and eat the small portions of spiced and peppered lamb and artichokes on his plate. He even sipped a little wine. Had she recognized one of these men, his fellow merchants? That was impossible, for none were displaying any of the alarm she was so manifestly feeling, and all were attentive to their tables or exchanging little comments with a neighbor. Aspasia had seen but two or three of these guests before; the others were strangers. Yet, one had terrified her. How was that possible? It was true that two or three were old and gross at the table, but Aspasia was accustomed to this because of similar guests in the past. His curiosity became keener. She was sitting now with decorously downcast eyes, her hands folded on her knee. He knew she was exercising all the discipline she had been taught, all the control. Then, to his surprise, she was smiling a little, her red lips curving.

For Aspasia was thinking: Thalias dare not betray me, for he is a runaway slave, for all his fine blue Grecian tunic and his wonderfully draped toga and his jewelry and fragrance. He is more frightened than I was, a few moments ago, for should I speak he would be seized and returned to Miletus for punishment, and he knows that surely. Now that her fear had subsided she was inclined to compassion for him, and she conjectured how he had come to this magnificence and position as an honored guest of Al Taliph. She had observed how handsome he was, how engaging in manner, how refined in gesture, and how obviously rich. She had not as yet heard his voice, did not know the name under which he lurked. She remembered that he had always been shrewd and intelligent and swift in answer to another’s moods, and then, remembering his concern for her before he had fled Thargelia’s house, she felt some suddenly amused affection for him. She desired, above all things, to convey to him that he was in no danger from her.

She is no longer afraid, thought Al Taliph. Aspasia drank from her silver goblet and then lifted a pungent morsel in her spoon and ate it. Her color had returned. Her hand was not trembling. Feeling that Al Taliph was studying her too closely she turned her head and smiled faintly at him, and her brown eyes were bland. For some involved and feminine reason she felt a vague triumph over him as if saying in herself, That man before you took from me the virginity you believed you deprived me of, my lord. I did not come to your bed immaculate. I lay with him within a grove of myrtles one hot summer night, when the leaves dripped moonlight on the dark earth, and he introduced me to joy. His kisses were the first I had ever known; his arms embraced me as strongly as ever yours did, and for an hour I loved him.