The Etruscan by Mika Waltari

Posted by admin_akashic on Mar 10th, 2022 in Stories

The sun was already high when I was awakened by the touch of one of the priests who had come into the temple with a beautifully decorated drinking vessel in his hand. When I saw him I did not at first know which of my experiences had been merely a dream. But when memory returned I was rilled with such supreme joy that I laughed aloud.

“Oh, priest, the goddess has freed me of the pangs of love!” I exclaimed. “Last night I saw the girl whom I thought I loved and even embraced her, although she is far away in Himera. But she turned into a rabbit and fled from my arms and I no longer craved her.”

“Drink this,” he said, extending the cup to me. “I see from your face that you are still in a state of excitement. This drink will calm you.”

“I don’t want to be calmed,” I protested. “On the contrary, this condition is delightful and I would gladly prolong it. But you know the goddess’s secrets. Why should I conceal from you that I, an alien, hoped for the impossible and fell in love with Kydippe, the granddaughter of the tyrant of Himera? Fortunately, however, the goddess liberated me from my yearning.” As I babbled, I drank the mixture of honey and wine that he offered.

He looked at me shrewdly and frowned. “Did you really say that Kydippe turned into a rabbit and fled from you?” he asked suspiciously. “If that is so, the goddess has truly favored you, for this omen confirms other previous omens we have had about that Kydippe.”

“Kydippe,” I repeated slowly. “But yesterday that name made my whole body tremble. Now I do not care if I ever see her again.”

“What else did you see?” the priest asked curiously. “Try to remember.”

I covered my eyes with my hand and pretended to think. “I think I saw a team of mules and a chariot ornamented with silver. The mules walked through the water across the straits, but how that was possible I do not know. Only a moment ago the visions were still clear but the drink that you gave me has blurred them. No, I can no longer see or remember anything. But that is of no significance. Kydippe at least will no longer trouble my mind.”

“Undoubtedly you have some talent as a seer,” he said.

I left the temple and returned to the inn, where the remains of the funerary feast, broken dishes and puddles of wine were on the floor.

Mikon was sleeping off his sorrow so soundly that I could not arouse him. Tanakil, however, was up and having her teeth fitted by the tooth-maker. Blood streamed from her gums but she drank wine to fortify herself and uncomplainingly allowed the tooth-maker to pinch her with his pliers and to thrust the golden bands securely in place. The tooth-maker lauded her bravery and was himself amazed by the beauty of the teeth he had made. When they were in place at last, he rubbed the bloody gums with an herb salve and collected the fee for his work. It was not small, but in order to increase his gains he thrust upon Tanakil tooth cleansers, face ointments, eyebrow darkeners and Carthaginian cheek coloring which made wrinkles invisible.

When he had finally left I seized Tanakil by both hands and said, “We are mature people, both of us. You are familiar with the goddess’s secret rites here in Eryx, but I also have powers that you don’t suspect. Remember what happened to Aura when I touched her. Who is the woman in whom the goddess appears to the suppliants at the temple?”

Tanakil drew back in alarm, glanced about her and said, “Speak softly, although I don’t know what you mean.”

I said firmly, “She is a woman, made of flesh and blood like me. Remember that it is in my power to reveal many things to Dorieus that might turn him from you despite your new teeth. So be frank with me and tell me what you know.”

She pondered the matter for a moment. “What exactly do you want?” she asked. “Let us be friends. Of course I shall help you if I can.”

“I want to meet that woman of the temple again,” I demanded. “As soon as possible and preferably in daylight and by ourselves.”

“That is forbidden,” insisted Tanakil. “Besides, she is but a cheap vessel whom the goddess fills with wine if she so chooses. The vessels change, but the wine of the goddess remains the same. The power is not hers. She is but a slave who has been trained in the goddess’s school.”

“That may be,” I said, “but it is precisely that cheap vessel that I desire, preferably empty and without wine, for I intend to fill her with my own wine.”

Tanakil looked at me thoughtfully, touched her new teeth and admitted, “I am consecrated, as you guessed. I will confess that I have many times helped that woman play pranks on men as they sleep the sleep of the goddess. It was she who helped Dorieus to see me fairer than Helen of Troy and to enjoy unsuspected delights in my embrace.”

“Who is she?” I asked.

“How should I know?” Tanakil shrugged her shoulders. “Such women are bought when they are young girls and are trained in the temple. This one, I think, has been trained in Carthage and has traveled in other lands as well to develop the necessary talents. The temples frequently exchange gifted women, but one who has risen to Eryx can go no farther. She can live like a goddess and experience all the pleasures of such a life until she becomes insane or useless. Don’t think of her, Turms. You are only wasting your time.”

“Tanakil,” I said, “once you told me that you believe in the goddess. I also believe in her, as I must after the many indications she has given to me of herself. She has the power to confuse the selfish calculations of humans, including even her own priests. Her whim brought me to Eryx. Her whim revealed that woman to me, and it is her whim that forces me to meet that woman again. How could I resist her whim? Help me, Tanakil. For your own sake, for my sake and also for the sake of that woman.”

Irritably Tanakil replied, “Why don’t you entrust your problem to the priest? He could prove to you better than I how wrong you are.”

“Why don’t you go to the priest yourself?” I pleaded. “Tell him that you still need the kind of advice that only a woman can give. Surely the woman is not a prisoner. Surely she can leave the temple with a trustworthy companion. After all, she appears to suppliants in many different guises and probably no one but the priests and you and naturally the temple servants even know her true face. Surely she can move as a woman among women even though she serves the goddess by night.”

“Of course she has her own amusements,” conceded Tanakil. “In fact, she is the worst slut I know. In the summer she even appears to the sailors, drovers and shepherds on the mountain slopes. No, Turms, turn your thoughts away from her. If I am an experienced and even a treacherous old woman, she is immeasurably more experienced and treacherous.”

Her cruel words alarmed me but I was sure that she was deliberately speaking unkindly of Arsinoe to lead me astray and to free herself from the predicament. I saw before me those high slanting brows, the vivid face, the beautiful mouth and the white neck. I still felt her womanly warmth on my limbs and everything within me cried out that there could be nothing evil in her.

“Tanakil,” I said, “look me in the eyes. You must obey me. Since it is so easy, go and bring her to me. In the name of the goddess I demand that you fulfill my request. Otherwise she will abandon you.”

The words made Tanakil hesitate. As a woman she knew better than I the capriciousness of the goddess and feared that the goddess really would forsake her.

“Let it happen as you wish,” she said with a sigh. “But only on condition that the woman herself consents to meet you as a person among people and in daylight. It is difficult for me to believe that, for there is not much to see in her face.”

When she had combed her hair, painted her face and donned her jewels she actually left for the temple. With the new teeth in her mouth she walked erect and with her chin up.

Nor did she remain long. Soon she reappeared with a woman dressed from head to feet in Phoenician garb and shielding her face from the sun with a fringe-bordered parasol. They came through the house to the terrace and the orchard under the flowering fruit trees. Hot waves beat through my body at sight of them. Tanakil left the woman sitting on a stone bench and said that she would bring food and drink.

“Turms,” she called, “come and make sure that none of the lowly servants disturb this goddess of the temple. I want to serve her with my own hands.”

As I took those few steps toward Arsinoe my limbs were like water and my lips trembled. Blossoms fell to my feet and the sea at the foot of the mountain was restless. She closed her parasol, raised her head and looked me in the face.

I recognized the high slanting brows but not the eyes or the cruel painted mouth.

“Arsinoe,” I whispered and extended my hand. But I did not dare to touch her.

The woman wrinkled her arched forehead impatiently. “The sunlight makes my temples throb and I have not slept enough. If I did not respect Tanakil so highly I certainly would not have awakened so early and come here to visit her. But I don’t know you. Were you speaking to me? What do you wish?”

The paint made her face look hard. In talking she narrowed her eyes to mere slits, and there were wrinkles at their corners. Her face was more experienced than I had believed in the lamplight, but the longer I looked at her the more clearly I began to discern her other face through the paint.

“Arsinoe,” I repeated in a whisper, “don’t you really remember me?”

The corners of her mouth began to tremble. She opened her eyes and they were no longer furtive but shining with joy.

“Turms, oh Turms!” she cried. “Do you really recognize my face in the daylight and as I am? Do you really fear me, like a little boy at a forbidden gate? Oh, Turms, if you only knew how afraid I myself was.”

She sprang to her feet and ran into my arms. I felt the quivering of ;her body through her garment as I wound my arms around her.

“Arsinoe, Arsinoe!” I whispered. “Of course I recognize you.”

Her face began to glow as though I were holding the goddess herself in my arms. The sky above us swelled to a mighty blue and my own blood roared in my ears.

“Arsinoe,” I said, “for this I was born, for this I lived, for this I saw •my restless dreams. The veil no longer covers your face. You have shown me your face and this moment I am ready to die.”

She placed her palms against my chest. “An arrow has pierced my heart,” she said, “and my blood runs dry whenever you look at me, Turms. Whenever you smile your godlike smile I turn powerless. How strong and beautiful are your manly limbs! Hold me tightly lest I fall. And I thought that I was an invulnerable servant of the goddess!”

She pressed her mouth against my neck, bit my chest and writhed in my lap until the brooch at her shoulder opened and her robe fell to the ground. The wind began to whine and fallen petals blew over us but no power on earth could have separated us. Anyone could have pierced us with the same spear and we would not even have been aware of it. Then her lips turned cold, her eyelids quivered, a cry burst from her throat and she grew completely limp.

Only then did I come to my senses and look around. The wind was tearing at the fruit trees and Tanakil stood beside us with billowing robe, staring at us in horror.

“Are you out of your mind, both of you!” she cried in a voice shrill with fear. “Haven’t you sense enough even to seek the shelter of the bushes like decent people?”

With shaking hands she helped Arsinoe to don her robe. Flowers and broken branches were flying through the air and reeds from the city’s roofs darkened the day. Far below us the sea foamed and mountains of clouds rolled from the horizon toward Eryx.

“You have aroused the wrath of the immortals with your obscene behavior,” Tanakil scolded us, her dark eyes gleaming with envy. “But the goddess had mercy on you and threw her veil over you. She even dimmed my eyes so that you seemed to be covered with mist. How could you have done that?”

“A storm is breaking,” I said, still panting, “a storm from the west. I don’t wonder. The storm in me and my body sweeps over all Eryx.”

Arsinoe looked down like a girl who has been found in mischief, caught Tanakil’s hand and pleaded, “Forgive us, you most blessed of all women. Help me again, for I must wash myself.”

“Let us all go in and seek the shelter of stone walls,” Tanakil suggested.

She led Arsinoe to her room where everything was ready, for that cunning and experienced woman had provided towels and warm water so that when Arsinoe had cleaned herself I also went there to wash. While I did so the three of us began to laugh without further embarrassment.

Tanakil wiped tears of laughter from her eyes and said, “Didn’t I tell you, Turms, that she is the worst slut I know! I actually envied her when I heard her squeal in your embrace just now, although she might have been pretending in order to flatter you and to draw you more easily into her power. Never believe a woman, Turms, for a woman’s body lies as cunningly as her eyes and her tongue.”

Arsinoe smiled radiantly. “Don’t believe this jealous woman, Turms. You yourself felt the mountain beneath us split and the earth tremble.”

She spoke over her shoulder as she peered into Tanakil’s bronze mirror and deftly wiped clean her cheeks and lips. The face which but a moment before had been swollen with passion was again small and childlike, but her eyes still glowed darkly and the blue of the high brows emphasized their gleam.

“Again you have a new face, Arsinoe,” I said. “But to me this is your truest face. Don’t ever mask it from me again.”

She shook her head and her hair, the traditionally fair hair of the foam-born, tumbled down her bare back. As she studied her reflection she wrinkled her nose, every thought rippling visibly across her capriciously changing face. Jealous of the mirror, I put my hand on her bare shoulder to turn her to me. She dropped the mirror and covered her face with both hands.

“In the name of the goddess!” cried Tanakil in honest amazement. “She is blushing at your very touch. Surely you are not seriously in love with each other? This is what your mysterious smiles predicted, Turms. The goddess of Eryx has bewitched you.”

“Tanakil,” I requested, “do go and bring us the refreshments that you promised, for I am unable to understand what you arc saying.”

She bobbed her head like a bird pecking at the ground, laughed to herself and said, “At least bolt the door so that I’ll know enough to knock when I return.”

After she had gone we stood staring at each other. Arsinoc paled slowly and the pupils of her eyes dilated until I was looking into black pools. I extended my arms but she raised a repelling hand.

“Don’t come,” she pleaded.

But my strength rejoiced in me and I did not heed her protests. On the contrary, they stimulated my joy, for I realized that she was compelled to bow to my will. The violence of the storm increased and rattled the shutter as though alien forces were attempting to enter the room. The roof creaked and the wind whistled through the door cracks. The spirits of the air tumbled about us in tumultuous joy while we seemed to sway on a cloud in the midst of the storm.

When we finally lay exhausted on the bed she pressed her cheek against my shoulder and said, “No man has ever made love to me in such a rapturous and fearful way.”

“Arsinoe,” I said, “to me you are fresh and untouched. No matter how many times I lay hands on you, you will always be new and untouched.”

The storm whistled through the cracks and shook the shutters. We heard the cries of people, the weeping of children and the lowing of cattle. But we were completely unmoved by any of it. I held her hands in mine as we stared into each other’s eyes.

“It is as though I had drunk poison,” she said. “I see black shadows before me and my limbs are growing cold. I seem to be slowly dying when you look at me.”

“Arsinoe, never before have I been afraid of the future. I have rushed toward it greedily and impatiently. But now I am afraid. Not for myself but for you.”

“The goddess is in me and of me,” she said. “Otherwise nothing like this could have happened. I listen to myself. Waves of fire ripple through my body and I feel within myself the bliss of the immortals. The goddess must protect us, otherwise I will no longer believe in her.”

At that moment we heard a knock on the door.

When I had unbolted it Tanakil entered with a small wineskin under her arm and some cups.

“Aren’t you even afraid of the storm?” she demanded. “Roofs have blown away, walls have crumbled and many people have been hurt. Poseidon is shaking the mountain and the sea is foaming with rage. I at least must drink some wine for courage.”

She raised the wineskin and aimed a stream into her mouth. When she had swallowed enough she filled the cups and offered them to us, talking the while.

“My hero Dorieus is tossing in bed with his head covered and moaning that the earth is swaying beneath him. Mikon is clutching his head and imagining that he is in the underworld. The day is dark and no one remembers such a sudden and violent storm, although the spring weather in Eryx is always unpredictable. But you two are frolicking mouth to mouth as though intoxicated even without wine.”

Scornfully exultant, I looked at the trembling woman and at Arsinoe whose head was bowed submissively. Some power within me raised my arms and moved my limbs in a dance as though the dance were within me. Around the room I moved in the storm dance, stamping the floor and lifting my arms as though to snatch the clouds. The storm responded to my dance with drums, trumpets and whistles.

I paused to listen, and something made my mouth shout, “Hush, wind; subside, storm, for I no longer need you!”

After only a moment the screaming of the wind through the cracks lowered to an inquisitive whine, the crash and the turmoil receded, the room lightened and everything grew calm. The storm had obeyed me.

My ecstasy vanished and I looked around. Reason assured me that it could not be true. Something in me had merely sensed that the peak of the storm had passed and had prompted my outburst.

But Tanakil stared at me with round eyes and asked fearfully, “Is it you, Turms, or did the storm-subduer enter your body?”

“I am Turms, born of a thunderbolt, and lord of the storm,” I said. “The spirits of the air obey me. Sometimes,” reason forced me to add, “if the power is in me.”

Tanakil pointed accusingly at Arsinoe. “Already yesterday you killed an innocent girl with a touch of your finger. Today even more people have suffered because of you. If you will not think of human lives, at least consider the economic damage you have caused this innocent city.”

We went outside and saw that the storm was receding along the plain toward Segesta, felling the trees in its path. But above Eryx the sun was already shining, although the sea still seethed and the waves were beating at the cliffs so that the mountain quivered. Roofs had blown away, walls had collapsed and fowl had been killed. The ground was white with petals from fruit trees. But fortunately the people had had time to extinguish their fires so that no flames had spread.

Mikon came toward us on uncertain feet. Tears were streaming down his kindly face as he clutched at us. “Are you also dead and in the underworld? I fear that I have mistakenly drunk from the stream of forgetfulness for I can remember nothing that has occurred. Is that Kore with you, and where is the shade of my unfortunate wife Aura?

But if she is here and still as talkative as in life I don’t want to meet her for the time being.”

Only after he had felt me sufficiently and pulled at Arsinoe’s hair was he convinced.

“So you are still alive and are flesh and blood! Therefore I also am still alive. Be merciful, Turms; take a stone, break open my skull and release this swarm of angry bees that is disturbing my contemplation with its buzzing.”

He tore out a tuft of hair, stamped on it and cursed. “Behold the pig, which is the gentlest of all animals. But when it rages it bares its fangs. I, a gentle man, am no better than a pig and have no defense other than that I drank in sorrow rather than in joy.”

We calmed him after a time and then Dorieus came out with a wrinkled cloth around his shoulders.

“What has happened?” he demanded. “I distinctly dreamed that I was on a ship. It swayed beneath me and the waves crashed against its sides so violently that I thought it best to lie on my belly and grip the sides of my bed.”

Upon looking around his interest was aroused. “I see that a war has broken out without my knowledge!” he exclaimed. “Why did I leave my shield in Himera? But at least bring me my sword and show me whom to smite and I in turn will show you how a Spartan fights.”

Seeing the confused state of both Mikon and Dorieus, I knew that it was not caused by wine alone, and I began to suspect myself. Perhaps my senses were so disturbed by my dreams in the temple that I had no conception of reality and exaggerated my experiences.

But at least the confusion in the city was real. People were fleeing into the temple, carrying the wounded and dragging weeping children by the hand. No one paid any attention to us. Rich and poor, merchants and shepherds, masters and slaves mingled together in a noisy conglomeration.

Tanakil said, “If we are wise, we will quietly gather my servants, the donkeys and the horses, leave farewell gifts for the innkeeper to distribute, and depart from Eryx. I know and you know best, Turms, why this catastrophe has struck the city. The people and the priests may also soon realize it.”

Her words held wisdom, but when I glanced at Arsinoe’s face, her soft mouth and shining eyes, I knew that I could not relinquish her.

“Yes,” I said boldly, “let us leave. But you, Arsinoe, must accompany us.”

As my companions stared incredulously from Arsinoe to me, I suggested, “Clothe yourself in Aura’s garments and assume her countenance just as you change your face at the will of the goddess. Everything has happened for a purpose. Aura’s ashes will remain in Eryx in your stead. We can easily leave the city in this confusion.”

But my words horrified Arsinoe. “You don’t know what you are saying, Turms. How could I trust you who are a man and a stranger? What could you offer me? As the priestess of Aphrodite of Eryx I have attained the highest position possible for a woman. Would I abandon a life of luxury and the jewels and beautiful clothes of the goddess merely because I happened to take a liking to you during the boredom of winter? On the contrary, I should fear you and flee from you because of the very power that you exert over me and my body.”

She touched my hand pleadingly. “Don’t look at me with such reproach, Turms. You know well that I weep and long for you. But soon the goddess will arrive from beyond the sea. The processions and secret rites, the joy, the variety and the crowds will soon dispel my yearning. Be sensible and do not tempt me with the impossible.”

The muscles in my cheeks tightened in anger. “But a moment ago, weeping with joy, you swore in the name of the goddess that you could not live without me.”

Arsinoe looked vexed, moved her foot and studied the ground. “A moment ago was a moment ago, but now is now. I spoke the truth when I said that I could not imagine myself loving any man as I love you. But I would not even dare try to recapture that moment. Now my head is aching, my eyes are smarting and my breasts pain me. Your very suggestion makes me ill with fear.”

Tanakil broke into the conversation. “Don’t you realize, you foolish man, that she is a slave to the goddess? If you abduct her from the temple you will have the entire land of Eryx in pursuit.”

I bade her be quiet and asked Arsinoe sharply, “Are you a slave or free?”

She avoided my eyes and retorted, “What then? Would you despise me if I were a slave?”

My heart sank but I said, “It depends on whether you are a slave by birth or whether you were sold into slavery as a child. Besides, even a born slave who is permitted to dedicate himself to some deity is considered free.”

Tanakil became angry and shouted, “Dorieus, hit Turms over the head to silence him and you, woman, return as quickly to the shelter of the temple as though you were already there.”

Arsinoe made haste to leave, then stopped and returned. “Where is my parasol? I left it in the orchard.”

I told her that the storm probably had blown it into the sea and she burst into tears, saying that it had cost dearly. So I went to look for it and finally found it wedged so tightly in the crotch of a fruit tree that the gayly colored cloth tore when I pulled it free.

She began to weep once more and said accusingly, “See what misfortune you bring me! The round cloth is torn and the ivory handle broken.”

Enraged by her pettiness when more important matters were in question, I asked Tanakil to lend me a few gold coins that I might buy Arsinoe a new and even finer parasol. Tanakil complained that she had already spent far too much money but nevertheless, at Dorieus’ request, went to her coffer and counted out the money. Whereupon Arsinoe smiled, clapped her hands in glee and said that she knew of a Phoenician merchant who sold both round and square parasols, with fringes or tassels.

I looked at her incredulously and asked, “Arsinoe, how can you think of parasols when the city lies in ruins around us and you yourself are a matter of life and death to me?”

She fluttered her eyelashes playfully at me. “But, Turms, I am a woman. Haven’t you realized that yet? You still have much to learn.”

And so it happened that she led us all to the shop of the Phoenician merchant, skipping happily over the broken timbers and stones in the street. The Phoenician’s shop was strongly built and had not suffered much damage. At our approach he lit the incense before the Baal on his wall, rubbed his hands and prepared for a profitable sale.

While Tanakil and Arsinoe were looking at parasols as well as other wares, Mikon said, “Turms and Dorieus, my friends, this is a city of folly. Watching those two women I foresee that we will be here until evening. In the meantime, the only sensible thing we three can do is to drink ourselves intoxicated.”

Watching Arsinoe’s quick fingers feeling the cloth and fringe of the parasols and listening to her light laugh as she bartered with the Phoenician, I clutched my head in my hands to see whether it was still in place.

“Why in truth should we worry about tomorrow?” I asked. “At least the wine can make nothing worse, for matters are already as bad as they can be.”

The Phoenician sent his slave to fetch some wine. The smell of the incense and the wares made us so queasy that we moved outside and seated ourselves on the backs of the stone lions framing the door. Before many blinks of an eye we had emptied a jug of expensive sweet wine.

“We are behaving like barbarians,” I said, “for we haven’t even a mixing vessel and I for one have never drunk wine from the edge of ajar.”

Dorieus said then, “This wine has a musty taste. It is preserved with flavorings that make the belly loose. Let us have honest resinous wine instead.”

We drank a wineskin of it and sprayed it on one another in lieu of an offering. Arsinoe came to the doorway to try a delicate nose ring in her nostrils and to ask us how we liked it.

Mikon covered his face with his hands and groaned, “I thought my wife Aura had died, but there she is again as large as life!”

“Don’t begin to see visions again as you did last night,” Dorieus said contemptuously. “She is only the goddess who appears in the temple. I recognize her by her ears. But she is nothing compared to Tanakil. She is as though one dipped a finger in honey and licked it clean. But when I enfold Tanakil in my embrace it is as though I were falling head first into a well. Soon we will be man and wife according to both Phoenician and Dorian laws, and then you can both try her if you wish. A Spartan refuses his friends nothing.” He thought for a moment, eyes dull from the wine, and then added, “But if you do I shall kill you. That would be best, for once having embraced Tanakil you would crave death more than life. It is difficult to rise from the bottom of a well.”

He buried his face in his hands and wept with heaving shoulders.

Mikon also shed tears. “All three of us are alone in the world. Alone we have come here and alone we shall return. Let us not quarrel among ourselves but drink wine moderately and with deliberation, just like this. Have I already told you that last night I descended to the underworld to accompany my wife Aura, or at least to see her on her way?”

Just then Arsinoe came out of the shop and showed us the parasol she had chosen. It was no more than the width of several hands, square and edged with fringe, undeniably a fine thing; but it would not have shielded even a frog from the sun.

“Oh, Turms, I am so pleased with this parasol!” she exclaimed. “The merchant also promised to repair my old one, so that now I have two. But I must leave now. I will surely remember you, Turms, especially when I look at this enchanting parasol. Have a good journey, and do not forget me immediately, either.”

“Arsinoe,” I said threateningly, “remember that I gave you a new name. With it I control you whether you wish it or not.”

She patted my cheek and laughed giddily. “Of course, dear Turms, just as you wish. But at this moment you are just drunk enough not to be able to answer for your words.”

She turned and went down the street, holding the new parasol daintily on her shoulder and lifting the hem of her robe with the other hand as she jumped lightly over the obstacles heaped by the storm. As I tried to run after her I stumbled over the first timber, crashed onto my face and was unable to rise until Dorieus and Mikon helped me to my feet. Holding onto one another we started back to the inn, Tanakil behind us with a large parasol over her shoulder.