“You hail from Constantinople, Excellency?” asked a merchant sat opposite them in the immense hall.
“Indeed, sir,” Sophia heard Alexander say, over the noise of the hundreds of other diners.
“But your companion does not have the look of a Greek,” said the merchant. “From which country do you hail, good lady?”
“Britain,” said Sophia.
“My apologies,” said the merchant, leaning forward, “But did you say Britannia?”
“Oh.” Sophia wrenched herself back into the moment, making eye contact with her questioner. He was gawping. “Yes. Yes I did.”
“By the fires, I had thought that isle the far end of the world! It is a land of barbarians, no?”
“Only on Friday nights.”
“I do not understand. Does that night have some significance to your gods?”
Sophia knocked back a goblet of wine. “You could say that.”
The merchant seemed to give up after that, and returned to conversing with Alexander.
They dined within the royal palace itself, in a massive chamber of sandy rock lit by great shafts of light from high windows and huge burning braziers. Great banners in a rainbow of colours tumbled down the pillars, and above the top table hung a glittering crown, so large that it could not possibly be worn, which glittered with jewels and burnished gold. Beneath it was the new King of Persia and in his hall were hundreds of diners, feasting on the delights of the land of the Tigris and Euphrates: dishes of lamb and olives, pomegranates and raisins, almond and walnut pastries, all accompanied by Ramian wine.
Alexander had led her there once the procession in the city had ended, but they had not spoken much to one another since. Sophia picked at her food, and looked around the hall. It was awesome to behold, but she felt no giddiness as she stared around once more. Something of the wonder of the place had gone.
How? A tremor shook her. Her I am, she thought, sat as a guest of a King of Persia in the year 531 AD – and I feel sadness. She felt like an alien in their midst.
She listened to Alexander’s conversation with the merchant. They spoke of the wars of Emperor Justinian, the scholarly works of Boethius and Aryabhata, and the religions of the Christians, the Jews, and the Zoroastrians of Persia. Never once did Alexander sound out of place.
When Sophia thought of him talking to her over pasta in a cheap Italian restaurant, two and a half thousand miles and fifteen hundred years away, she felt tears welling in her eyes. She immediately stood.
“Sophia?”
She ignored him and walked straight out of the chamber. She hurried through the glorious corridors, past the guards in their gleaming armour, and out into the open air.
The late summer sun was beginning to set. The palace was raised above the rest of the city; Sophia walked to a balcony and stared out over the lush royal gardens, the outer wall, and the spread of Ctesiphon before her. The Tigris glittered and cedars swayed. She didn’t cry, but she could still feel her tears waiting to fall, trapped behind her eyes.
“Haján?”
Sophia whirled around, wiping her eye. Before her stood a small, young woman with dusky skin, wearing a simple blue tunic and a soft turban. She carried a wooden bowl of fruit. She stared up at Sophia with a caring expression.
“Were you crying, haján?”
“No, no.” Sophia looked away.
When she dared to look back, the woman smiled kindly.
“Okay, yes. I was crying.”
“Do not cry.” The woman put a comforting hand on Sophia’s back. “Do not cry.”
Sophia cried. She sobbed into her hands, and reached for armfuls of her gown to dry her tears. Neither of them said anything. The servant gently rubbed Sophia’s back, and soon she had exhausted all her tears. She stared out once more at the Tigris, breathing slowly through her parched throat.
“You can tell me why, if you wish,” said the servant. “It can help.”
“Can it?”
“Yes.”
“No, really, can it?” said Sophia. “Because the reason why I’m crying is crazy. You’d think I’m crazy. No one will get it.”
“No. But I can still listen.”
Sophia looked at her. Her eyes were soft. She could feel something being coaxed out of her.
“Have you ever...” she began, looking away. “Have you ever thought that you know someone? You feel like you’ve found out all their secrets? That they trust you and you trust them?”
The servant nodded.
“But then you realise that you haven’t even touched the surface,” said Sophia. “And you were stupid for thinking you knew them. You’ll never know them.”
The woman held her shoulder. “There, haján. It is no so complicated.”
“It kind of is,” said Sophia. “I’m from a different...oh, that’s just detail.”
“This person,” said the servant. “Is it a man?”
Sophia laughed. “You cut right to the chase, don’t you? Yes. He’s a man. Or he appears to be. God, I’m not even sure about that.”
The woman took her hand. “Shall I tell you what to do?”
A strange sense came over Sophia. When she looked at, listened to and smelled the world around her, it seemed so foreign; but when she felt it, through the fingers and wrist of this servant, it burst to vivid life. Life – this was not some fantasy, some world half-full, but life.
“Okay,” whispered Sophia. “Tell me.”
“Get him to tell you a story,” said the woman, squeezing Sophia’s hand, “And listen.”
Sophia wiped her eyes, shivered, and smiled. “Thanks. I might just try that.”
“Would you like to hear a story?”
“Sure. That would be nice.”
The woman beamed, and led her to a stone bench. When they had sat, Sophia looked into the woman’s eyes, and found she could not look away.
“In the ancient days,” began the woman, “When the fires of Ahura Mazda burned brightly in the palaces of the Kings, there lived a young woman. She was famed through all Persia for her beauty, and had had many suitors. But she dreamt of being a Queen, and thought only of the Shahanshah himself for her future husband.”
Sophia nearly interrupted, but she couldn’t bring herself to.
“But the King did not wish to marry her, and she was dismayed. At table that night, she thought only of ending her own life, such was her despair. When she saw the servants throwing out the rotting grapes that had once adorned the table, she took them and devoured them, praying for the poison of decay to overwhelm her poor body.”
The sadness in the servant’s eyes had moved Sophia, but then a naughty glint emerged from beneath.
“But the girl suddenly found herself overwhelmed with happiness, and dreams such as she had never known. She fell into a deep sleep, and awoke the next morning with renewed hope for life, such was the joy this strange food had brought upon her. She took her discovery to the king, and he rewarded her with a fine house, servants, and a marriage with one of his great nobles, with which she was now satisfied. So it was that the young woman discovered wine, and her happiness has poured through the generations, even unto our own age.”
Sophia stared in amazement – and burst out laughing. “That is the best story I’ve ever heard. No mention of the young girl having a hangover?”
The servant stared at her in confusion, but the two of them still giggled.
“Go on then,” said Sophia once her laughter had subsided. “What’s the grand moral of this tale?”
“It is this – that there is a time for worrying about men, and there is a time for celebrating with music, and food, and wine.” The servant stood, took up her bowl, and indicated the doors leading back into the palace. “Within, our great King is crowned. Go, be joyous, and cast off your troubles.”
She smiled one last time, and departed. Sophia watched her go. She shook her head in amazement. A part of her wanted to stay and look over the city, to languish, perhaps to let more tears come – but she laughed and walked back into the palace.
*
Hopefully that's cheered Sophia up a little, and we'll see if the servant's advice to her comes in handy later on. What do you think of Sophia in this chapter? Did you find her emotions convincing? I always appreciate any comments and thoughts.
The video is the second movement of Rimsky-Korsakov's Scheherezade. The violin solo at the start is just gorgeous. Also, the servant's story in this chapter is a genuine Persian myth about the discovery of wine. The lack of a hangover is suspicious, though...