Pythagoras the Mathemagician

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Pythagoras the Mathemagician Page 3

by Karim El Koussa


  “No more than seven days from now,” Mnesarchus replied, amused at her eagerness. “I’m really glad you came along,” he added seizing her hands tenderly. “You’ll see. We will enjoy all of it. Greece is a wonderful place to visit! You’ll love the Temple of Apollo in Delphi as well.”

  Parthenis listened to him expounding on all the amazing places planned for her visit. She could almost envision them all. His fervor grabbed her dreamily. The great city of Athens and its wise men! The Agora square and its many grand public buildings! Proud sculptors exhibiting their fine pieces! Poets and poetesses reciting the most beautiful prose! The Acropolis! The beautiful colossal statue of the goddess Athena! The shrine of Zeus!

  His eyes were bright and wistful. Parthenis knew then that his love to this particular country surpassed by far all the others he had visited.

  “Some wine, dear?” She proposed, grabbing the clay jar on the table. At his nod, she poured some of the drink of the gods into his cup and filled hers with some fresh water.

  He raised his goblet, toasted to their life together, sipped on his red wine, and leaned forward, “Do you know what the most beautiful thing I have ever seen, is?”

  “What is it, beloved?” She asked puzzled.

  “Your eyes!”

  Before she could react, his lips were on hers, kissing her passionately.

  Caught in the magic of the moment, time seemed to cease.

  * * *

  Later in the afternoon, Parthenis stood on the banister admiring the sunset. The sky changed its colors gradually as the sun made its slow decline behind the horizon. She shivered with some strange emotion. Feeling so close to the sun, at the very moment of its merging with the sea, confronted her with a phenomenal mystery. The fiery planet appeared to inflame in protest at touching the water of the ocean that swallowed its glory all too slowly as if tasting a delicious victory over a different yet powerful element.

  She welcomed the warmth of Mnesarchus’ hand on her shoulder. It brought her back to reality and to a sense of security she had felt lacking in front of such a majestic occurrence. Comforted, she felt indeed, when his hands wrapped around her belly and pulled her softly back to his solid chest. She smiled at his words of love whispered so closely to her ears and shuddered with emotion at his breath on her neck. He rested his forehead on her left shoulder for a long moment, as if lost in the enchantment of her softness. The amber colors of the sky showered them as time reached dusk with all its secret beauty. There, connected in body, heart and soul as never before, they both shared a unique moment of peaceful love.

  Time seemed to stand still for both of them. The activity on deck had subsided by now. Mnesarchus turned her tenderly to him seeking the love of her lips.

  “Eh… Sir…,” a hesitant voice interrupted the couple. “Excuse me, sir… It’s the Captain… He, hmm…,” the boy who uttered these words kept his eyes riveted on the sea, to avoid looking at them, as Parthenis noticed with amusement.

  “Yes…?” Mnesarchus replied slowly yet his tone hinted his irritation. Then, as he glared at the boy, his wrinkle of annoyance vanished to leave place to a sparkle of amusement in his dark eyes. He certainly deemed the embarrassment of the boy as amusing as she did. “Come on boy! Spit it out!”

  The order shook the boy who spun on his heels to face Mnesarchus. “Captain Hamelkon, Sir!” He rushed on his words. “He requests the honor of your presence at his table for dinner… Sir!”

  “And so it will be!” Mnesarchus exclaimed in agreement and Parthenis burst out in laughter.

  * * *

  Edging his fifty, Captain Hamelkon had a lean physique, and a thick black beard smeared with the white color of age, same as his hair that reached his shoulders. The stiff look of his tanned face reflected his strong character. Parthenis imagined reading a long story of experience in his deep black eyes shadowed by thick peppered eyebrows. A crooked nose, denoting determination, traced a long length from the linked eyebrows down to his thick moustache. The deep wrinkles on his forehead and cheeks enhanced the impression of a charcoal drawing.

  Hmmm… Interesting, she murmured inwardly, but there was a kind of perturbed feeling that inhabited her at first. Yet, she soon changed her mind about him. His impeccable courtesy, lit at all times by an effortless smile, made her feel at home. He, in fact, attended to all the guests with a cheerful mood yet with respectful manners, making of the dinner gathering a very enjoyable evening.

  From the lavish clothes and heavy jewelry of the four other male guests, Parthenis knew of their wealth, the way she recognized their profession from their conversation in trades and merchandise. She delighted in a meal of well cooked and finely served meat. Servants constantly filled the cups with red wine of excellent quality, or so she assumed from the enchanted expression on her husband’s face. She would not drink herself for the sake of her unborn baby.

  From the very start of their meal, Captain Hamelkon captivated her, and all the guests, with his narration of strange stories about the seas and the lands he had explored in his many trips. Fascinated, she watched how he engaged in his tales as if reliving them. He related his adventure across the Pillars of Melkart-Hercules when he had commanded a large fleet towards Bar-Tanak[3], the Land of Tin. Parthenis could not get her attention away from him.

  At moments, she envisioned herself in that exploit. The tension seemed to take on everyone around the table. The merchants gawked at the Captain, their eyes bright in expectation and their wine untouched on the table, anticipating the end of the story.

  Mnesarchus seemed more composed, sipping his wine quietly, yet his eyes focused on him with amused interest. Parthenis assumed that he had heard this tale once before, or maybe more than once, but he still felt absorbed, sharing with his captain the same attraction for the sea.

  “Tell them about the land of the black-skinned people!” Mnesarchus exclaimed.

  “How about the times I docked at Marsa-El[4] in Europa[5]?” He proposed in reply, his eyes mischievous.

  “Later… later!” Mnesarchus waved his hand in the air in dismissal. “The land of the black skinned people first!” He incited flippantly.

  “Yes, please!” The guests pleaded almost in one voice.

  “So be it!” The Captain snapped with a resounding clap of his hands. He brought the cup of wine to his mouth, drank all of it, placed it down on the table and went for his new story.

  The Captain controlled their night and dreams, dragging the time far beyond the sleeping hour, and capturing them, one more time, in his world of exciting adventures…

  * * *

  The next day, the deck experienced its usual morning activity as soon as the sky tinted with the colors of dawn. The rowers positioned themselves to sail at a faster speed when the first sunrays highlighted the soft waves with a radiant touch.

  Moments later, they ceased their rowing efforts to allow the navigation to direct its course. Parthenis enjoyed the scene along with a few passengers strolling around leisurely. She breathed deeply the fresh air of the awakening day. The sea conveyed to her senses its briskly salty scent. She felt at peace, somehow. The feeling escorted her all day, until a strange sensation seized her later at night.

  She stood there at the banister, admiring the rise of the full moon that painted the dark water with timid rays. The sea looked infinite to her; a dark ocean at sleep through which the “Astarte” abdicated to the current and to the sudden wind.

  An odd sensation of apprehension overwhelmed her when she pondered over the unknown mystery of that immense body of water. She heeded behind her the sound of footsteps approaching her steadfastedly. She tensed for a moment when it edged closer then she veered at once to face the intruder on her thoughts. Captain Hamelkon came at a respectful halt and distance from her, took off his cone hat and greeted her with a contrite smile.

  “Pardon my intrusion, my Lady. I was conducting my tour of surveillance and saw you from my cabin. And so, I have come to check on you. My apologies, a
gain. Is everything alright?”

  “Yes, Captain, thank you,” she replied with some reservation.

  “Are you enjoying the night view?”

  “Yes, indeed, I am.” She granted him a graceful nod of her head before adding, “I would say, it is quite relaxing and calm.” Then after a slight hesitation, she commented, “A little bit strange though…”

  “Yes, quite understandable,” Captain Hamelkon agreed, keeping to his distance out of respect for their cultural values. He gazed pensively at the ocean and said as if thinking out loud, “The ancient people of the Earth deemed the Sea a frightening mystery. They wrongly presumed it to be the habitat of gigantic monsters and outlandish creatures. They in fact imagined them appearing behind the horizon. For centuries, people believed in such tales, until, of course, our ancestors broke through that ancient illusion when they ventured into the vast ocean. Eventually, what they found beyond that imaginary borderline was nothing more than human life and habitats. However,” he paused to turn his eyes at her and declared, “Sea monsters, legends tell, existed in immemorial times in the scheme of nature.”

  The brief sparkle in his eyes when he looked in her direction betrayed his anticipation for a reaction of dismay from her; dread or fear.

  She smiled faintly at his attempt to assess her courage, and uttered calmly, “Yes, I’m well informed of such legends. People are usually prisoners of their own fear of the unknown. Only those who dare facing their demons prevail, and, of course,” she added evenly, “to acknowledge the borderline between reality and illusion demands courage.”

  Stunned by her reply, he gawked at her for a moment then slightly bowed his head in respectful acknowledgment, not of her statement but of her level of reasoning, as if she had just passed a test of some sort. Men! Her mind snapped in frustration. In a proud move of her head, she directed her attention to the game of the moon rays on the dark waters.

  “My lady, allow me,” the Captain finally said with a hint of apology. “I know of the educated level of our Phoenician women, and of them being looked upon as exceptional. I am honored to join my voice to the general praises. Phoenician ladies stand out indeed from among their sisters in the world I have visited.”

  The praises did not move her. She knew of her value very well. “The honor is all mine in being a descendant of such awe inspiring people,” she murmured, more to herself than to him.

  “And you honor us, my lady,” the Captain replied at once with sincere admiration.

  She knew what he meant. He was, of course, referring to her courage and intelligence, yet he should know that Phoenician women were not of the weak and superficial type. They had proved it through the ages, and she was but one among all the others. At the thought of her roots, a new sensation of tranquility enveloped her.

  “How did you become a sailor, Captain Hamelkon?” she asked, half turning to his direction.

  “It is in the family, fair Lady. When I was a little boy, my grandfather used to narrate stories to me about the sea. He told me of the strong connection that bounded him to the immensity of the water world from the onset of his travels.”

  Parthenis understood then that she, in fact, shared this feeling towards the sea as well; a unique feeling that belongs to all those who sailed through it. It is just another state of mind processed by Nature, she reasoned.

  “My grandfather told me that people were strongly convinced that the world ended behind the Pillars of Melkart,” the Captain resumed, then pointing to the West, “there, in that direction.” He grinned with a hint of irony. “So, one day, he decided to go see for himself what the end-of-the-world looked like!”

  “He must have been quite an intrepid man, your grandfather,” Parthenis commented, sharing his amusement. “So, what happened?” She encouraged him to continue. Somehow she felt connected in soul with the old man.

  “Well, when the boat crossed through the Pillars, he was astonished at the fact that the navigation continued without incident or drama. The world just extended farther and farther away!” He laughed and shook his head in glee. “He was a new sailor at that time, a neophyte in the Art,” he felt like explaining his grandfather’s candor. “The other experienced sailors cackled at his bewilderment of course, and kept teasing him during the entire journey. Eventually, the captain explained to him that the concept in itself was just a rumor fabricated by our Ancestors to scare away other nations from sailing through. The captain concluded, ‘Son, this is not the end of the world, but the beginning of a new world!’ The stated revelation anchored in my grandfather’s mind forever.”

  Parthenis stared at Captain Hamelkon pensively. Their eyes met in a moment of understanding, linking the souls of their Ancestors who had mastered the seas and far beyond that.

  He sighed then released with confidence, “We know the wind and the current of the water!” Examining the sky above, he added, “But that’s not all. We, Phoenician sailors, depend much on the stars to navigate. If you really want to reach your goal,” he gave her that kind of intense look that usually preceded a major announcement, “then, fair Lady, you have to follow the stars!”

  He excused himself and walked away.

  But Parthenis would indeed follow the stars…

  Her stars…

  * * *

  On the afternoon of the seventh day, the “Astarte” arrived safely at the port of Athens. The passengers rushed out, eager to stand on firm land; the land of Greece! Parthenis had waited for this moment with the same fervor. She had craved to experience the world from a new perspective. The moment she set foot on the shore and smelled the new exotic fragrance in the air, she knew that she would like it here.

  “Welcome to Greece… Lady… Sir…!”

  The greeting ensued from an old man with a bald head and a long white beard. He murmured the word Phoenicians with a look of appreciation at their ethnic outfits.

  “Sir needs a ride to the city?” He proposed pointing a wrinkled hand at his two-horse stagecoach a few steps away.

  From his spot, Mnesarchus assessed the status of the horses and the wagon with a critical look. He then negotiated the price for the service before agreeing.

  And so, after some young porters set their luggage in, the carriage took off towards the great city of Athens. Despite the dust that the horses lifted in their path, Parthenis appreciated the efforts of the old driver in maneuvering smoothly. She overlooked the uncomfortable ride on the jagged road to concentrate on the new panorama that unfurled along their path. Plains rich with vine and olive trees outstretched from both sides of the road.

  She discerned some farmers working the lands and detected the songs of dozens of women picking dark grapes, depositing them on large baskets. Children played in the field. Some ran around each other, while the older ones carried the filled baskets to a destination she could only guess. She beamed at the scene that reminded her of the harvest season in her homeland.

  Ahead of them, some mountains took shape little by little. The more they neared their destination, the larger the mountains appeared. Finally, they neared the impressive gate of the city wall. Parthenis lifted up her eyes, in awe, at the mountain on which stood the magnificent metropolis of Athens.

  “Amazing, isn’t it?” Mnesarchus remarked with a look at her.

  “It is indeed,” she breathed out in a murmur of awe.

  “Originally, the city initiated on the rock of the Acropolis, two hundred and seventy meters above the sea level,” he explained. “Upon flourishing and developing, it spread around the hill from all sides, and then all the way down the ancient fortress where the Athenians now live. Today, Athens has become one of the most important cities of Greece!”

  Parthenis did not answer, for their carriage was, just now, slowly penetrating into the city, and a whole new world of sight and sound unwrapped around her, taking her breath away. She took in, at once, the remarkable dynamism of the city through its activities, colors, assortment and beauty. There were sculptors almost every
where; busy shaping stones into fine-looking statues. In the plaza square, just there, below the northwestern road to the Acropolis, poets recited their prose and hymns to whoever would show interest; and many did!

  “Sappho!” Their driver announced, indicating a woman of medium stature, violet hair and dark-purple tunic. “She is our pride, this poetess. She always presents us with the most sensational poems and elegies in town!”

  With curious interest, Parthenis examined the young woman of ivory face and honey smile. She stood, barefooted, two steps above a small crowd. At her side, a beautiful girl played the lyre while the poetess recited some poem of sensual wordings and melodic tones.

  “She writes for various personages and genders, mainly songs of passion, love, yearning, and reflection,” the driver expounded with fervor as he drove the wagon all too leisurely.

  “Where is she from?” Parthenis asked, eager to know more.

  “Sappho? She was born into an aristocratic family on the isle of Lesbos in the Aegean Sea. She is the most famous poetess in, perhaps, all of Greece! We call her a lyrist because her poems are performed with the accompaniment of a lyre.”

  “And who is the young lyrist at her side?”

  “She is Gongyla, a beautiful rose with a Lydian lyre.” With these words, the old man expressed his affection and admiration. “They both came together two days ago from Sicily. They are here to perform a daily hymn to the goddess Aphrodite. I think she will start right now, please listen to her… Lady… Sir…!”

  And the couple did, the rhymes reaching Parthenis, melodious and warm, with some pitch of supplication that touched her deeply and echoed almost in every corner around the city square.

  On the throne of many hues, immortal Aphrodite, Child of Zeus, weaving wiles -– I beg you not to subdue my spirit, Queen,

  with pain or sorrow.

  But come – If ever before having heard my voice from far away You listened, and leaving your father’s golden home you came in your chariot yoked with swift, lovely sparrows bringing you over the dark earth

 

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