The crowd watching the events dispersed like the bees when a stone is thrown at the hive, as unexpectedly, a gust of rain came down heavily upon the village. The tribunal moved under a shed used for pottery. Tied to a stake, and in chains, Papyrus stood under the shower like a statue, wondering when all this would end for him. The rain extinguished the fire which had begun to devour the fuel stacked all around the convicted. A few feet away, Elena’s lifeless body lay still. The body was placed on an altar, awaiting cremation after the mourning period. In a kind of daze, Papyrus stared at the outline of Elena’s countenance. Soaked in rain, it appeared to him as if her lips were ready to speak. They shuddered. Papyrus looked on. They shuddered once more, and then slightly parted. Papyrus focused on Elena’s bosom. He was not sure if it pulsated faintly. Then the signs of life were unmistakable. A broad grin reached Papyrus’ ears. At last, the unthinkable happened. Elena opened her eyes, and sat upright on the altar.
At first, the villagers who had been watching from the nearby sheds, did not understand the reason behind Papyrus’ broad grin. At the bizarre sight of the dead sitting upright on the altar, the women and children screamed. They ran in every direction. One old man fainted, while others froze on their feet, thinking perhaps they had all entered the Hades with the dead. The terror reached a new height when Elena trotted towards the chief’s shack. Apparently, she wanted the key to unlock the chains used to tie Papyrus. Shocked by the incident, Velma literally somnambulated to the door with the keys in her hand.
“What happened? Why do you look so pale mother?” Elena asked with a broken voice. Then she stared at herself, and asked, “”What am I doing in this wet tunic?”
Velma’s voice failed her. She just stared at her resurrected daughter. Time slowed to a halt as she returned to the stake with the keys. She removed the woods piled around Papyrus, and released him from the chains. Papyrus held her face in his two palms, and stared into her eyes. As he kissed her passionately, she looked into his eyes, and her memories returned. Her hands went up to her neck. The next moment, an unearthly scream shattered the silence before the resurrected collapsed onto the wet ground. Hardly any soul dared to reach out to her, except Nikolay and Velma.
Papyrus was about to pick Elena up. A loud yell from Nikolay stopped him.
“Stay away from her,” Nikolay shouted.
It stunned Papyrus. He was confused, not sure what he should do. Velma assisted her husband to pick Elena. They carried her to their hut. Drying her with a dry piece of cloth was the first thing Velma did, upon placing her on the bed. Her body temperature had been unusually low. Subsequently, Velma covered her with a quilt to stop the shaking. Underneath the quilt, both of them worked tirelessly, massaging to get her circulation and temperature return to normal. While all this had been going on, a large crowd gathered with inquisitive eyes, eager to follow the developments.
After the sentencing of Papyrus, Calysto departed from the spot. She beckoned to Ismarus and the jester to follow her. She had no desire to watch the execution, nor did she want her son or the jester to be a part of the wild crowd. With grim faces, the three had been contemplating the options before them when a messenger reached them with the news of the resurrection. At first, Ismarus thought, perhaps the villagers had mistaken muscle reflexes, sometimes associated with the corpses, as signs of resurrection. However, upon arriving at Nikolay’s residence, they witnessed, with their own eyes, the miracle. They could see Elena breathing in her sleep. Still, the jester checked her pulse. They were normal. A few moments later, when Elena regained her senses, every set of eyes was on her.
“How do you feel, sweetheart?” very tenderly Velma asked her with a smile on her lips.
Instead of a reply, she looked around, and asked, “What have I done?”
“You have not done anything, your fiancé did,” Nikolay tried to explain.
“Oh yes, he almost strangled me to death. I should have been more understanding. I never imagined, he would be so ferocious,” Elena responded. After a brief pause, she continued, “It’s between us, the outcome of a misunderstanding. I’m sure he will come back to his senses. What I do not understand is this curiosity in everyone around me. Why can’t they just leave us alone?” Elena fumed at Nikolay.
Calysto had been smiling too. Nikolay and Velma were not sure how to break it their child. Hence, Calysto took the initiative. She said, “We cannot explain it to you, dear. We thought Papyrus had choked the life out of you. At least, it looked that way.”
Elena began to realize the truth. “How long have I been like that?” she asked.
“Almost a whole day, no breathing, no movement,” Nikolay replied.
Elena sighed. In a faint tone she muttered, “So, I have returned from the Hades.”
“Everyone here believes so, albeit we could be wrong,” Calysto added.
The onlookers gave time to Elena to come to terms with the truth. For a while, she remained speechless, dazed by what had happened. Then, very softly she said “Let me see Papyrus. I need to see him.”
Out of embarrassment, Papyrus had been standing at the rear of the crowd with his head held low. One of the villagers led him to Elena. With signs of remorse clearly visible in his expression, no words came out of him.
“I apologize to you for being so rude. It’s all my fault. I should have been more careful about your feelings. Since, you have taken a decision, I will not hold it against you. You are free to renounce your vow,” in a calm voice, Elena said this to Papyrus.
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“Something in me had been eating me from inside. I could not take it anymore. Forgive me.”
Papyrus turned. He wanted to step out of the hut when Ismarus said, “Do you people take your vows so lightly? I am amazed. Every word of a vow is a sacred trust. At least that’s what I have been taught all my life. Where is the sanctity of love we speak so profusely? At the slightest trial, if that love evaporates, what kind of love is it? I urge you to reconsider your decisions. Do not leave in haste, for there’s much to lose. Look back. Look back when you were ready to sacrifice all for each other. You have come past the greatest hurdle of all. You have looked in the mirror, and realized what should have been. The possibilities are endless, as to what could be. Therefore, instead of parting, I say, embrace each other. Let us see your love triumph, once more.”
These words had a sobering effect upon everyone. Only a few moments back, the crowd which had been utterly hostile to Papyrus, no longer glared at him. The attitude had transformed. One man beckoned to Papyrus to heed Ismarus’ advice.
“What are you waiting for? Go ahead. Get what you have been waiting for all your life. We will wed you two, right here, right now,” another elderly lady said to Papyrus, waving her hand.
Papyrus spent the first few moments hesitating. The veil of darkness vanished from his appearance. The next couple of steps he took were the hardest in his life. Nonetheless, he stepped in the right direction, fondly embracing and kissing the love of his life.
At night, Ismarus discussed with Calysto and the jester, the right time for them to leave the potters’ village. The incident regarding papyrus and Elena exposed to them the vulnerable situation they were in. Many who had welcomed them with open arms, only a few days back, turned not only against them, but against anyone who defended them. One rowdy villager wanted to hit the jester. Fortunately, Nikolay stopped him before he could come near the jester. For the royal visitors, it was a painful moment. With somber faces, they wondered how long, the remaining good will would last, after another unfortunate incident. Ismarus invited the jester to have dinner with him and his mother. The jester brought with him a bottle of very old wine which had been gifted to him by one of the villagers, possessing a vineyard.
Tegrios loved red wine. Calysto gazed at the goblet in her hand, thinking of those days, rushing back in her head like they were yesterday. While sipping from her goblet, she closed her eyes. She would feel the texture of the wine with her tongue, taking time to swallow it. Tegrios taught her this.
From the other end of the fairly long dinner table, Ismarus peeped at his mother, raising his head over his plate. In turn, the jester stared at Ismarus. They both knew the thoughts circling in Calysto’s head.
“Mother, let go the past. It brings nothing but pain,” the heavy voice of Ismarus shattered the tranquility over the dinner table.
“Oh yes, they bring nothing but pain,” Calysto’s utterance sounded almost like a whisper. Sometimes, pain is all we have. Might as well enjoy it,” with a faint smile she added.
Ismarus wanted to speak, but the jester whispered, “Shhhh, let her bring it out, or else one day it may end her life.”
By then, Calsyto was lost in her past. For a brief moment, she glanced at her son’s face, and then muttered, “You do not look like your father. Your thick hair, the forehead, thin lips, thin face, you got all that from me. Calysto paused briefly, and then continued, “But those deep set eyes, the dark brows, they are just like the ones your father had. They used to drive me crazy.” Calysto laughed quietly, and then continued, “Some say, sons with many of the features of their mothers, are lucky. In your case this belief has fallen flat on its face. I am sorry son, I am truly sorry.”
One of the terra cotta lamps along the wall used up its fuel. Next to it was a container of olive oil. The jester left his seat to re-ignite the lamp. He poured the oil into the lamp, and borrowed the fire from the one kept on the table.
Calysto turned her gaze at the lamp, and resumed, “Our lives are like those lamps. Once, the oil runs out, it’s no good. Our will to live, it keeps us going, despite insurmountable hurdles on our ways. It is the oil of the lamp we call life. It’s hard to keep the lamp burning when the will is not there. More precisely, when it has been stolen. I live for you son, I live for you,” Calysto finished her statement with a sigh.
“Your highness, have you been thinking of moving on?” very softly the jester asked.
“I thought of staying here for a few weeks. We could have stayed here, the coming winter. I do not know if it’s a good idea after all that has happened.”
Ismarus felt the same way. He said, “Sooner or later, the usurper is bound to locate us. When he does, he might send his men to attack the village. If that happens, many of the villagers who are quiet now, won’t remain so quiet. They will try to blame us for any such attack, and might even turn against their own chief.”
“How long will it take to reach Sarmizagetusa from here?” Calysto asked.
“It depends on our luck. Without any kind of incident, it should not take more than a week. You can add another two or three days if the weather is not favorable, or if we rest for longer period on our way,” Ismarus replied.
“I think, a donkey to carry the extra supplies will be a good idea,” the jester suggested.
“That is, if it is available,” Ismarus pointed out.
“Why do you say, if it’s available? You have the gold drachmas, do you not? We will just buy one from a local farmer,” The jester said.
“So far, I have not seen a single donkey or mule in the village,” Ismarus remarked, while sipping the wine from his goblet.
“How do they plough the fields?” Calysto inquired.
“Most likely, they use horses,” Ismarus replied.
“Well then, we will buy a horse,” the jester said.
“Who will sell you his horse. In this part of the region, horses are hard to come by. I should not have let the horses of the dead assassins go free,” Ismarus lamented.
“What’s the solution then? It’s a long way, and we have to carry lots of provisions,” the jester looked desperate.
Ismarus slumped back in his seat, and sighed, “Give me some time to think. I’m sure we will find a way. In the meantime, tomorrow first thing in the morning, scour the village and its surrounding area for a mule or a donkey. Anyone willing to sell his mule, donkey or horse, just send him to me.”
At this point, Ismarus stared at Calysto for what she had to say.
“Son, I intend to give a wedding gift to the newly wedded couple and one to the village chief. What Nikolay has done for us, we must never forget. One day, I hope to honor this man for his kindness and hospitality. He’s a man of great integrity.”
“What kind of gifts have you been thinking of, mother?”
“For the newly wedded couple, two sets of the most beautiful winter coats found in this village. And for the village chief’s wife, one of my gold rings.”
Ismarus turned his attention back to the jester, and said, “Well, you heard your highness. When you go for the donkey or the horse, look for the coats as well.”
It seemed like the jester had had enough for the night. He said to Calysto, “Your highness, please excuse this servant for the night.”