The Arrows of Hercules
- Автор: Де Камп Лайон Спрэг
- Язык: английский
- Жанр: Научная фантастика
Электронная книга - «The Arrows of Hercules». Краткое содержание книги:
“Exciting and quite believable adventures.”—Classical World
“Rousing piece of fiction...pace is rapid and unrelenting.” —The Arizona Republic
"O Saphanbaal!" he called.
"Who calls?" came a woman's voice, reverberating hollowly out of one of the caves. "Zopyros the Tarentine, with a token."
"Oh?" The woman appeared at the entrance of the middle cave. She was a large woman, fat and saggy, wearing a simple dress of coarse brown stuff. Little piggy eyes looked out from a fat, round face. Most of her straggly hair had turned from brown to gray. Zopyros guessed her age at about fifty.
"I know about you, darling boy," she said, "but show me the token natheless. Show it me."
A little taken aback, Zopyros wordlessly pulled the broken shin-bone from his belt and handed it to her. As he came close, sight and smell told him that Saphanbaal had not bathed in a long, long time.
She took the bone and waddled back into the cave. Presently she reappeared, holding a second piece of bone in her left hand. She fitted their broken ends together.
"See?" she said. "A perfect fit. A perfect fit. The spirits told me, when erst I saw you, that you were a man of honor and virtue. But is there not a little lad with you?"
"Aye; I'll fetch him. I was fain to be sure. But how knew you all this? We left Carthage but last night, around twelve Egyptian hours ago."
She gave a simpering giggle that would have better become a girl of fourteen. "Now, darling Zopyros, were I not a sorry sort of witch, an I could not divine such matters? I have ways, and ways, and ways. But go fetch the boy. The poor little wight must be half dead of hunger and thirst. Go fetch him."
Zopyros went back up the path, unsaddled the mule, and moved it to a spot where it could graze on plenty of dried grass. Then, carrying his bag and holding Ahiram's hand, he returned down the path.
On the ledge he found Saphanbaal crouched over a little pile of tinder. In one hand she held a glass disk, two digits in diameter. The rays of the sun, striking through the glass, were concentrated in one glowing, rainbow-colored spot on the tinder. With the other hand she made passes over the tinder, intoning:
"Death take this wind!" she exclaimed. "There it goes!"
A plume of smoke whipped up from the tinder, and a small flame burst into being. The witch put twigs on the fire and soon had a blaze.
"Is that a magical fire?" said Ahiram.
"It certainly is, boy," said Saphanbaal. "It certainly is. Would you be a witch when you grow up? I could use an apprentice."
"Nay. I would be a builder like my father. But magic must be fun. Show me some more!"
"You shall see more soon enough, Master Ahiram; for tonight is the night of a big sitting. With the help of you two, I can give my truth-seekers an evening they shall long remember. Long shall they remember it. Know that I was once a beauty. I'm still a good figure of a woman, am I not?"
"It is not open to question, madam," said Zopyros, a little puzzled by the change of subject. "Live you here all alone?"
"Certes. I had a girl apprentice, but she ran away with a goatherd. 'Tis lonesome after the bustle of Utica."
"Why moved you?"
"You know how people talk and gossip about a woman who lives alone, be she never so virtuous! I had a colleague, a man witch named Shaddiel, with whom I undertook all-night conjurations. Such lengthy invocations are needed to command the mightiest spirits.
The talk of the neighbors was bad enough; but what really burnt the roast was that my favorite daemon, little old Gulgoleth, became jealous of Shaddiel! Imagine, a daemon becoming jealous of a mortal! So much so that, one night, when Shaddiel by some mischance had left off his most powerful amulet, Gulgoleth sprang upon him and devoured him. Actually ate him! If you have never seen a man consumed alive by an invisible spirit, you know not what a gruesome sight is.
"Of course, the tongues wagged even more freely, and there was even talk of the magistrate's charging me with murder. And how could I have warded myself? The evidence of daemons is not accepted in court, even if I could summon the monster and compel him to confess. So, what with one thing and another, I removed to this lorn spot and have dwelt here ever since. My clients bring me the things I need from Utica. From Utica they bring them.
"But 'tis sad, sometimes, to sit by oneself and listen to the play of the waves and the cries of the wild beasts. And of course, there's the hazard"—she rolled her eyes at Zopyros and tittered—"that some strong man like you will take advantage of me. An you did, I could no nought, nought whatever, to stay you." With downcast eyes and a shy smirk, she quivered all over, like a vast mass of jelly.
Zopyros nervously cleared his throat. "Madam, no true Pythagorean would so abuse the hospitality of a virtuous woman. What's for dinner?"
Dinner was a simple repast of fish, bread, cheese, and olives. Nevertheless, after his long ride, Zopyros found it delicious. He felt he could have eaten the witch's pet daemon Gulgoleth, assuming that daemons were edible. He looked up to see the witch, who had eaten more than Zopyros and Ahiram put together, staring intently at him.
"What is it?" he said.
"I was looking at your soul, he-he!" said Saphanbaal.
"Well, it is some comfort to know I have one. What saw you?"
"Your fate."
Zopyros shifted uneasily. "What is my fate?"
"Yours will be a long life, with much joy and much grief." The witch's voice boomed, as if she were speaking from one of her caves.
"Some of your ardently sought goals you shall achieve—and then either have them slip from your grasp, or find that they were not worth the striving. You will be hindered by one grave fault and upheld by one great virtue."
"And those are?"
"The fault is that you are not as other men. You feel not as they do. Matters that overjoy them delight you not, whereas you rejoice in things that are of little worth to them. Therefore, they find you cold and lacking in oneness with themselves. You will have but few true friends.
"The virtue is that yours is a hard, tough soul. You can not only endure solitude, but even take pleasure in it, for your own thoughts are company enow. When things seem at their worst, you console yourself with the thought that better men have suffered worse, that the things that grieve you will seem of little moment ten years hence, and that you may do better in that other life, whereof your philosophy teaches." She shook herself as if coming out of a trance. "Why give I such a priceless reading gratis? Some god must have put the words into my mouth. Hate you not the latter part of summer's drouth? My daemons tell me that 'twill soon be broken. Come on, both of you, and help me prepare for my clients. Now, have a care lest you tread on the toes of a spirit!"
She led them into the largest cave. Ledges had been chiseled out of the walls. On these ledges, heaped in disorder, were boxes, bags, jars, phials, rolls of parchment and papyrus, herbs, skulls and other bones, a small stuffed crocodile, tortoise shells, ostrich eggs, feathers, odd-shaped stones, and other magical accessories. Other objects hung from the ceiling: lamps, bird cages, masks, and in the center of the cave a jar. The jar hung by two strings, forming a V. Directly over it a polished circular plate of yellow metal, a foot in diameter, was set in the ceiling. The roof of the cavern seemed to sparkle with little points of light scattered over its rocky surface. Saphanbaal, following Zopyros' gaze, explained: