Lamekis

by Charles de Fieux

  The punishment of Lamekis

  I could not help breathing a sigh of relief when Dehahal finished his story. I wanted desperately not to have to imitate his deeds.

  “What’s this I see?” the philosopher shouted. “You’re pining inside. Could it be that these things that should be leading you to the greatest goods are making you unhappy? You’re growing pale. Your weakness is making you see these minor trials as cruel punishments. Speak up! Your response will decide your fate. And don’t worry if your calling isn’t for the sound repose, I exempt you. I will have you brought back to Earth in consideration for the virtues you have shown up to this point and especially the way you behaved in the trial of the 12 tables. This one grace, such as it is, will be granted you. After that, nothing should prevent you from speaking.”

  While Dehahal was speaking, I remembered the words of the Sylph who brought me to the Island when he said that I would be condemned to crawl like a reptile on the earth if I did not attempt the trial. I shuddered at this alternative.

  “Lord,” I cried out in fear, “as much as I want to imitate you, I don’t feel as steadfast in physical suffering as I was in the moral virtues. If I am skinned alive, hanged by my feet and tongue, I have to admit that it will only be with bitter regret.”

  “Well then,” Dehahal erupted, “go back to Earth. Follow me. Scealgalis will allow it.”

  “Oh Heavens,” I said obeying him, “how harsh is human destiny if eternal good is only purchased at the price of such horrible suffering! Why did the Almighty not give us the strength to resist it?”

  “What’s this?” Dehahal shouted furiously, pulling out four of my teeth. “Now you blaspheme!” He clapped his hands seven times and a cloud of black spirits covered the sky. The savage philosopher screamed out, “Let them have you. I give up on you! After suffering the triple Gul-gin-hak217 to atone for your crime, you will be cast down to Earth where you will crawl until a new order is given.”

  You cannot imagine my terror at his words. Although I did not know what this punishment was, I had no doubt that it was the worst. With that in mind I wanted to throw myself at his feet and cry for mercy, but the philosopher had already disappeared. “Oh Vilkonhis,” I prayed, “take pity on me. You are my only hope.”

  I barely had time to finish this short prayer; I was already being swept up by the black spirits. Oh Heavens! Who can imagine how they took me away. Each of them grabbed a part of my body with five of them on each hand and foot lifting me by my fingers and toes. The rest of the troop went to my head, combing out my hair and each one grabbing a strand. My whole body was pulled and tugged and finally hauled up brutally into the sky. Then I was sorry that I did not let myself be skinned alive—it certainly could not have been more painful. My cries were useless; nothing would calm their cruelty. They sneezed at my suffering and their monstrous bodies showed an air of satisfaction that proved the blackness of their souls.

  Oh Vilkonhis! Could it be that you won’t come to help me in my direful need?

  After carrying me like that for a long time, they stopped on a thick, black cloud and hung me by the scruff of my neck on a clamp attached to a tall pole. It felt pretty good considering what I had just been through. Every extremity of my body from my toes to my hair, every strand of which stood straight up like a needle, was tensed, making me feel like a hedgehog. Little by little the tugging stopped. I could breathe again and look forward to the end of my troubles.

  But I should have remembered those menacing words: “the triple Gul-gin-hak.” It meant three different punishments. I could not look forward to a quick end.

  Then I heard yelling and I opened my eyes (which I had kept closed until then). I saw four big Sylphs coming in from four different directions with paddles in their hands. The black spirits were lined up so that they looked like an audience waiting for a play to amuse them. And yes! I was on the mark. One of the Sylphs came up and grabbed me with his strong hands. Another whacked me high in the air with its huge paddle like a handball. I went straight up and fell back down onto another’s paddle that whacked me just as hard. It hurt a lot, but was nothing compared to the pain I felt when the clumsy Sylph let me drop, playing around with his paddle and failing to hit me. I hit the ground so hard I lost consciousness. It was the best thing that could have happened to me in the situation.

  The next punishment I was condemned to was the cruelest, even though it hurt me the least. When I regained consciousness, imagine how astonished and sorry I was to see the staggering transformation I had undergone. Dare I say it? I was a snake and maybe the most hideous that nature had ever produced. I crawled on the ground, lived in a dark forest and caused everyone to run away from me.

  After finding myself in this dreadful state, I coiled up in despair and tried to poison myself with hundreds of deadly bites. “Vain efforts!” shouted a voice from the sky. “You will crawl until a faithful woman turns you back into your former shape. Blessed be Scealgalis whose incomparable kindness has prevented your punishment from being eternal. Without the trial of the 12 tables that you passed, there would be no mercy. Your blasphemy would have brought upon you the final death.218 Behold and praise the great Noc-kha-dor. He left you the power of speech so that you might use it to get closer to the final moment that will finish you off. Sinouis, to help you out, has the same gift. Being with your dear friend will help you bear your evils. He is in the woods. That, Lamekis, is all I could do to help you. I could have done better if you had wanted to.”

  After this the voice was silent. It did more than enough to calm my fury. Hope is a healthy cure to our sufferings. I could get back my former shape. All I had to do was find a faithful woman—that was not impossible. The power of speech that I still had was a treasure. And Sinouis was alive. Obviously I had to find him, my partner in disgrace, who could help to get through this. That’s what I was thinking at the moment.

  I spent the rest of the day slithering next to a stream hoping to meet poor Sinouis, but I searched in vain. Around the middle of the night I heard moaning and groaning. I raised my head to listen better and I seemed to recognize the voice. Thinking it was my faithful friend I dragged myself to where it came from. I had barely gone an eighth of a karies when I heard it say, “Did I have to leave all behind to follow a man who ruined everything he touched? Great god, how far has my friendship sunk me? Don’t I see the whole world curse me, making me hide because of my bad luck and shame?” Bitter tears choked these words and I was touched to the bottom of my heart.

  I hurried to get to the tree where Sinouis was. My keen eyes spied him: he was stamping on a branch and looked just like when I last saw him, that is to say, like an owl. I spoke to him and made him recognize me. At first he was so afraid that he fell off the branch and if it weren’t for his wings he would have died.

  I tried to console him and he answered sorrowfully, “Is it really you, Lamekis? I guess since you’re here again I might be less unhappy.” After these seemingly friendly words, he came down, but, in spite of everything I said to reassure him, he would not come close. He admitted that I looked terrible and he could not control his fear. I used this to comfort him: “See,” I said, “as hard as your fate is, it’s nothing compared to mine because you are horrified by me even after knowing that I am the same Lamekis who used to be your friend and for whom you left everything. How hopeless do you think that makes me feel?”

  Sinouis looked ashamed by this. There is no better comfort than to meet someone worse off than you. He found that he was lucky not to end up looking like me and the thought calmed him down enough to tell me everything that happened to him since our separation.

  Sinouis is turned into an owl

  I had just left you,219 Lamekis, dragged away by my senses, and I dove back into all the delights that were offered to me. I was so drunk that (should I say it?) I barely remembered you existed. But, great Vilkonhis, who in my situation would not have surrendered to so many temptations? In the past, dear partner in disgrace, I love
d an adorable Phoenician girl who was stolen away by a rival barbarian. My entire life since that loss has been spent searching for her, but to no avail. My motivation for the last trip came as much from the hope of finding her as from my friendship with you, Lamekis—it’s time I admit it.

  I saw her at one of the tables. She was so pretty and adorable. What devoted lover could resist such charms? I threw myself in her arms and made up for all the tears, troubles and tribulations that her absence had caused me. But, oh fatal return, I barely had time to enjoy such a sweet, longed-for good because the beauty that I loved slowly lost her charm and her sweet, desired beauty disappeared and so, too, did the rest of her vanish away and transform into gruesome, monstrous features; and I saw a black Sylph. I wanted to scream out in fear, but I could no longer control my organs. My arms wanted to stretch out, my feet wanted to run away, but I could not move or, better said, they were disappearing. Oh great Vilkonhis, you who allowed this, what a frightening shock I had. I was an owl. And grotesque. My fate made me tremble and I looked daggers at the cause of my misfortune. But instead of all those tantalizing dishes, I saw nothing but vipers and instead of guests there were dreadful monsters. I ran away and hid and you know the rest. A black spirit seized me and threw me in this forest on the Island of the Sylphs where I have languished ever since.

  Lamekis and Sinouis in the forest

  I was not surprised at Sinouis’ story—he had earned his fate. For me, who had resisted the trial of the 12 tables, I could not help grumbling to myself about the cruelty I suffered. I remembered perfectly well that they had allowed me to ask for a favor that should have been granted to me. We never get justice. I forgot that my blasphemy had made me unworthy and that it is not enough just to start doing good, we have to persevere. But does not one grievous wrong destroy all the good deeds of the past? Obviously yes and I should not have been surprised at my harsh fate.

  Sinouis and I sat there a while without talking. Finally, I broke the silence and told him what had happened to me since our separation. In spite of all the sensual faults of my dear friend, he criticized me for my lack of determination after being so set on getting to the greatest good. I agreed with him and did not try to make excuses for my weakness. Much of that night was spent with us pitying and comforting each other.

  Just as dawn’s rosy hue appeared on the horizon Sinouis interrupted me, “Let’s get out of here. The cave just over there is my hideout and we can use it as our den and talk without worrying about being interrupted.”

  “Well, who’s going to do that in this deserted place?”

  “Oh,” Sinouis replied sadly, “if I show myself for a minute longer the inhabitants of the woods will eat me. The ignorant crowd believes that I am the enemy of light and I can’t stand its brightness. I thought that myself before, but I’ve learned better. In truth the owl hides at mealtime, but it doesn’t like to. It escapes the light more than hides from it—it’s afraid of all the other animals. Lamekis, would you believe that all the other dwellers in the sky, birds of every species, come together to jeer at it? You can already hear their screeching. And that’s nothing compared with what will happen if I’m stupid enough to wait out here for them. Imagine that what you are hearing right now is a kind of general warning that I’m here and a universal summons to bring together all the birds in the area. When they are all gathered together and know what’s going on they will surround me on every side, knock me out and end up pecking me millions of times with their angry beaks to show how stupid I was to wait around for them. I’ve thought about letting it happen.”

  With that, Sinouis flew listlessly back to his refuge. It was just in time. He was barely off the ground when a cloud of birds of every species I could imagine rose up above the trees heading for him. The flock was crowing and cawing deafeningly and kept it up when they alit on a rock. I was so galled that if I could have possibly punished them all I would have done it with immense pleasure. But I could only hiss at them and I did so bitterly while crawling to the cave where I, too, took refuge so that the alarmed birds would go away or at least take a break from their insistent cacophony.

  The cave I entered seemed bright and very clean. A stream of water, clearer than crystal, murmured through it. At any other time I would have loved it. Looking toward the back I was surprised to see two owls. They were so alike that it was impossible for me to tell which one was Sinouis. One of them seemed to be avoiding the other, which was trying to nuzzle it.

  “What’s this all about, Sinouis?” I asked. “There are two of you? Could it be that you’ve made a friend of the same species?”

  “No,” my sad friend replied, “this bird you see is really a bird. It obviously thought that I would answer its instinct. It’s a female and I look like a male. My coldness obviously made her think I was indifferent to her, so she’s courting me, trying to tell me in her language and in her way that I’m suitable for her and she loves me. After repeating this declaration to me the lovely old hen asked me very nicely to build a nest with her and fill up this empty cave with our little ones. Do you think I accepted the proposition? Do you think I can respond to her fervent desires? I’m furious at this new situation. I was almost cruel. I told her that I swore never to love another, but she keeps coming after me. I just said that if she keeps it up I’m going to leave this den and she said that she would follow me wherever I went. What torture! What should I expect from this new punishment?”

  “Is it really a punishment to be loved?” I asked and I could not help laughing inside at this state of affairs. “Why don’t you give the old hen some hope that you might succumb to her tenderness some day?”

  “Ah!” Sinouis got worked up. “I was careful not to let her get out of hand. She’s so vivacious and so used to getting her way that last night she tried to surprise me in my sleep. I had to peck her off with my beak. Think about what would have happened if I indulged her!”

  The insensitive owl could say no more. The hen, in fact, was all over him. He had to stop talking to defend himself. As miserable as I was, I could not help laughing at this wonderful scene. Their conversation was very lively; their voices sounded like broken jugs. Finally Sinouis had enough and figured it best to leave and take refuge next to me. The passionate hen followed him lovingly, but when I hissed at her she got so scared that she flew away and hid in a dark crevasse.

  Sinouis admitted that I had just done him the most important service that anyone had ever done for him in his life. “Really!” he said after thinking about it and in all seriousness. It was too much for me, but can we be so inconsiderate—I was rude enough to be amused by his affliction. But I was soon going to be sorry for this and be punished for my offense. As close as we are to our friends, it is all too true that we do not feel their pains as sharply as we feel our own. To be humane, you have to have suffered the same pains that they do and then you can be truly caring and sympathetic. That is what I was about to learn.

  We spent a few hours talking sadly about our misfortunes. “But as cruel as they are,” I said with a certain respect for eternal decrees, “shouldn’t we thank the creator for leaving us the use of our reason and tongue?”

  “What do you mean?” Sinouis flapped his wings impatiently. “Wouldn’t it be far better actually to be what we only seem to be? Wasn’t our reason left to us so that we can feel how miserable we are?”

  “Don’t be so contrary to the submission to the Almighty,” I replied. “The absolute master of all things does not do anything that is not as just as it is grand. The day will come when you will feel how excellent his decrees were. The gross fog of our humanity prevents us from understanding and is the source of your offensive groaning. Take this from a friend who loves you and who does not want to see you any unhappier. My blasphemy put me in this state and your transformation was because you were too quick to please yourself. Let’s be humbled by our experience. True wise men would learn from it, only fools scorn it and fall into despair.”

  These few wo
rds made an impression on poor Sinouis and gave me time to think as well. We prayed fervently to the sovereign Being of Beings and then totally resigned ourselves to its will. This piousness, so appropriate to our humiliating situation, calmed us down.

  Sinouis stared at me. “How about finishing off our stories? That would be a good way to distract us from our worries.”

  “Good idea,” I said. “It’s a sure way for us to prove that we are alive only to endure the journey. You’ll find that out soon. I’m a perfect example.” After thinking about it for a minute I resumed the story of the Princess of the Amphicleocles,220 told by her to the Queen, Lodaï and Boldeon. I reminded Sinouis that it was still Motacoa speaking.

  The story of Nasilaë continued

  If your noble father showed his keen foresight by this wise order (the Karveder continued) the Magna Fakhaldak showed how wily and clever she was by escaping the righteous wrath of her ruler. She slipped into the pedestal on which she had placed the idol and hid herself from her deserved punishment. The Lindiagar was informed that she could not be found and had the inner temple searched meticulously, but he was not surprised that the Priestess had escaped. Still, he did not want to get down from the High Throne until she was found—enemies of her ilk cannot be dealt with softly. A wise politician, thinking about his own safety as well as the state’s under these circumstances, has to fight to the death with such enemies.

  During the search for the Magna Fakhaldak, who stayed in hiding, the so-called Princess, who was favored by the Magna Fakhaldak, was brought to the Lindiagar by the priestesses. The incontestable right that gave the authority to the High Throne, which put it above all the laws, allowed the Ruler to satisfy his pressing desire to see the Princess. For this he ordered the veil to be lifted. The priestesses, confiding in their superior, tried to resist. They cried out that the order spelled their condemnation, but it was no good. The Karveder made them obey and the Princess’ face was unveiled.