Stories From a Lost Anthology by Rhys Hughes

Author:Rhys Hughes [Hughes, Rhys]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Tartarus Press
Published: 2014-01-06T20:00:00+00:00

The Lover And The Grave

“Only where there are graves are there resurrections.”

Nietzsche

In the most beautiful of walled cities, carved in stone above the main gate, there is a tableau depicting the story of Athanasius. Much of the relief has worn away and much of the rest is obscured by ivy and other climbing plants, but it is still possible to fill the gaps with a kind word and a silver coin. The gate-keeper, too old to stomach any but the most expensive wine, will accept curiosity and money in equal measure. He had the story from his father, who was also a gate-keeper. Perhaps he is the last man alive who knows the tale.

My own reasons for visiting the walled city were prosaic enough. A physician by trade, I was eager to obtain medical books for my private library. The books to be found there surpass in quality even those of the Capital. A succession of plagues has sharpened the skills of their doctors to the point where any disease now claims very few. I wanted to acquire some of that wisdom for use in my own town. I desired a reputation as a healer of mystical prowess. As I was unattached to any Guild, plagues were my lifeblood. I would be tempted to describe myself as freelance, save that my lance is never free. Each boil is a groat.

The half-hidden relief attracted my attention as soon as I arrived and it being very early morning—with little traffic entering or leaving the city—I was able to buy some of the gate-keeper’s time. He tugged at his shrivelled beard, weighed the coin in his palm with a sly look and rolled his eyes up to the carving, chuckling softly all the while. “Very well,” said he at last, “I will tell you the tale, though it takes but a single arched eyebrow to shatter it. Express no doubts, raise no points. Imagine it is depicted in glass rather than stone. I cannot vouch for its truth any more than you would want me to. But to mock may summon guards who will hurl you from the walls.

“Listen then. Know that Athanasius was a lover who lived in this city some centuries past. As lovers go, he was neither brighter nor duller than any other member of his fraternity. Poets create, minstrels adapt, gardeners tend. But lovers merely steal from them and call their ill-gotten gains emotion. So we had Athanasius with the ode, the song, the rose, weaving his way between the houses of his myriad mistresses. He was a paramour without precedent, more prolific by far than his nearest rival. He had a boundless energy, a disregard for anything that did not taste sweet, whether lips or wine. He had long dark hair that curled to his shoulders. Also he was fleet of foot, a quality useful in a man who must often flee husbands across rooftops.

“His latest mistress was the wife of a Judge who sat in one of the highest courts and settled cases like dust—slowly but with a horrible inevitability.

Download

Copyright Disclaimer:
This site does not store any files on its server. We only index and link to content provided by other sites. Please contact the content providers to delete copyright contents if any and email us, we'll remove relevant links or contents immediately.