Now we were left with how Medulfa got into trouble, without knowing how much or why, and how she was taken in the middle of the night by a horde of small wolves.
After an indeterminate amount of time, Medulfa slowly regained her senses. The process was infinitely painful, and marked by fantastic dreams, the nature of which was very clear and precise while she was experiencing them, but became blurred in her memory almost immediately afterwards, and minimised by the terrible events that followed.
She dreamed that she was in the grip of a large and terrible paw; a yellow, hairy, clawed paw that held her down to crush her before swallowing her whole. As she paused to consider what the paw was, it seemed to her that, little by little, in a subtle and insidious way, she was being drawn and entangled by a spirit whose kind had walked the earth before man had ever conceived of brick and pot, the weaving of straw and the wonder of warm fire.
Gradually the strength and flexibility of her limbs returned, but her eyes saw nothing. As she staggered to her feet, she looked eagerly in every direction, but found only a blackness as vast as the starless sky.
She waved her palms. She squeezed, pushed, crawled and shoved until her hands were free of the laces and she was free of the hood that blinded her. She tried her legs and found that she could walk, though it would take time to get rid of the numbness. She just had to decide which way to move, assuming it was safe to move.
Obviously she could not walk aimlessly, nor was it a good idea to run blindly in search of an entrance that might be guarded, but there was also the risk of being punished for her hesitation. So it was that Medulfa paused to note the direction of the cold, pungent, fragrant current of air that had been with her since her awakening.
Accepting the point of its origin as a possible site of human and non-human activity, she endeavoured to keep track of this landmark and move towards it.
She moved cautiously through the darkness. The current of air grew stronger and more offensive, until she could see nothing but a tangible stream of steam emanating from some opening, like the smoke from the cave of the Cumaean Sibyl. But this Egyptian Sibyl seemed to have no cave, neither hospitable nor divine.
The roar of the waves in the storm was heard in the distance, and Medulfa was reminded of the stories of the sorceress Circe and the spells she used to turn into animals the poor unfortunates who landed on her shores.
The more she thought about the nature of these smells and odours, the more her unease grew. In fact, although she had sought its source as at least an indirect indication of human activity, she now saw clearly that this emanation could have no admixture or connection with any incense from India or Arabia, or any other aroma she had smelled since her youth in the markets of Alexandria.
Medulfa discovered that she was in the Museum of Alexandria, and that in its courtyard was a small group of Catizi, engaged in some kind of religious ceremony.
They were wearing long robes and on their heads were long black masks, the shape of which resembled a stylised wolf. Strange geometric engravings in silver or gold adorned these masks, while a wolf's mane of white, shining hair covered the back of their heads. Among them she recognised the face of Spinalba.
"Who is this miserable little mouse we have here?" said a voice behind Medulfa, "Is this the human who seems to know our secrets? The one who knows of the strange chimeras of the arcane and occult cities in the heart of Africa? Of the true appearance of a fey creature?"
Medulfa turned to see a strange creature behind her, moving under the moon with feminine, cat-like movements. It was a beautiful woman, with good breasts and hips, moving cautiously towards her on all fours, with sinuous movements.
Her face was feline, her skin brown, her short hair blonde, while between her legs Medulfa could glimpse a male appendage. But it was not the creature's hermaphroditic nature that perturbed Medulfa, the fact she was half-male and half-female, it was her other nature.
The lower half of that woman's body was covered in thin, fluffy golden hair, which ended in two cat-like legs. A long tail unfolded from the base of her back, opening like a three-petalled flower. Her upper body was human, but her ears were like those of a cat.
Never in any book of zoology or in nature, as far as human knowledge could reach, had such a creature been seen: one that defied the common conceptions of physiology and biology. In a moment of rationality amidst all this fear, Medulfa understood that her vaunts, which had led her to collect curiosities from many books but of little importance, were proving to be undesirable truths. Truths that should have remained arcane and occult.
"What are you? Who are you?" asked Medulfa, making herself small and unthreatening but ready to flee, "Are you perhaps the Queen of Cats and Werewolves? The one who helped the catizi rebuild the Library of Alexandria?"
The creature laughed and thus spoke: "Isengarda the wise, Isengarda many counsels, of many ways, of many devices, Isengarda the great hearted... I am not..." said the creature, "...my name is Leonbruna, and in Isengarda’s name I have collected thousands of tomes, waves of knowledge. In her name I will not allow this sacred knowledge to be stolen again for nefarious purposes by those who know our secrets".
Again? Thought Medulfa. Then a wrath took hold of her body. Never before did she desire to have her weapons with her. Whoever had stolen knowledge from that place was of no concern to her. What did concern her was that Madalgarius was somewhere, and she would not allow such a strange, divided creature to stand in her way.
Medulfa threw herself violently at Leonbruna, only to be grabbed and pinned to the ground. "Not so fast, little she-wolf..." said Leonbruna, "...as I said, no one who gains knowledge that can harm my Isengarda will ever leave without suffering the consequences."
Medulfa pushed, bit and tried as hard as she could to roll out of Leonbruna’s grasp, but it was not worth the strength she was so proud of, nor the martial experience she had gained over the years. All she could do was feel Leonbruna’s fingers tighten around her throat.
"Not like this..." said Medulfa, a tear rolling down her cheek, "...I deserve a chance. It's not fair."
"Maybe it is, maybe it isn't..." said Leonbruna, "...but who is here to force me to be honest and loyal?"
Leonbruna's hand clutched her throat as her lips continued to speak, "I want to be kind. I could give you a reasonable chance to survive... but unfortunately I have no reason to do so."
My dear gentlemen, I do not know if you remember well what happened when I met the beautiful Medulfa at the Fagutal. It was at the beginning of our adventure, when Medulfa was lamenting her lovesickness and had fallen asleep in that sacred forest. It was then and there, that I gave her one of my hairs, which turned into a snake.
Now, gentlemen, I hope you remember this, for the time has come for me to reveal the nature of my gift. Leonbruna watched as Medulfa slipped into unconsciousness when a snake, glowing with green light, emerged from her victim's arm and wrapped itself around her limb.
You can imagine how Leonbruna felt when she saw that snake, because she knew what it meant. Oh, wait, you don't have to imagine, because I can tell you. Suffice it to say that the first thing she said was: "That fucking green-haired witch!"
She grabbed Medulfa and began to drag her away. Leonbruna dragged her towards a door that led to a ramp that descended into the darkest recesses of the hill on which the museum was built.
Medulfa rolled a few metres, then heard the door close behind her, followed by a voice saying: "Let no one say I wasn't fair and honest, for if you survive down there, you will be perfectly free to leave."
Medulfa pounded on the door with her fists. She pushed, she punched, she hammered, but the door did not and would not yield. She was alone in the dark.
Medulfa groped until she touched the wall and felt something oily tingling in her fingers. She felt the consistency, tasted the smell and it seemed to be burning oil. She took a pin and struck the wall violently until a spark ignited a small channel dug into the wall that led to a series of lamps.
There were strange glass lanterns filled with water that acted as a lens, diffusing light into an otherwise dark corridor.
She relied on those lamps for protection from the darkness. Before her was a gallery with a low roof arching up to a flight of very small steps, numerous and steeply descending. She wasn't sure if they were real steps or just handholds in a steep descent, but wild thoughts swirled in her mind.
The words and warnings of the Coptic storytellers along the Nile told of the horrors that had been buried in this man-made hill at the time of the Pharaohs and that men dared not know. But she hesitated only a moment before she stepped through the portal and made her way cautiously down the steep passage, feet on the ground as if on a ladder.
Only by describing the catabasis of Heracles, Orpheus and Dionysus in the kingdom of Hades could one begin to imagine such a descent. Aesculapius, who had accompanied her so much in her medical studies, was not with her. If not Aesculapius, what god could give her the courage to go down those steps? Only Mars and Mercury would have not hesitated to descend in that darkness, yet Medulfa descended too.
The narrow corridor descended endlessly like a horrible, haunted well, but an invisible hand kept pushing her deeper and deeper into the caverns of that abyss.
She lost count of the time and forgot to ask herself if there was ever another way out of this place, but perhaps it was all a figment of her imagination, perhaps the hours that passed slowly were nothing more than terrible minutes that haunted her mind.
There were changes of direction and incline. She came to a long, low passage where the light grew dim. Time had almost ceased to existed when she reached the darkest room, where light stopped to follow her.
A lantern lied near her feet and she had to choose if going back or advance with only that tiny light in her hand and massive shadow around her.
“There or back? Where I have to go?” said Medulfa, before gazing behind her. “There is no Madalgarius behind me, only loneliness, so come on Medulfa. Be brave.”
She walked into the darkness, keeping the lantern in front of her. Then she found herself in a slightly higher place than in the previous caves. It was in a passageway whose walls were lined with glassy marble sarcophagi.
Oblong and horizontal, the sarcophagi appeared to be arranged at regular intervals along each side of the passage. When she tried to examine one of them, she discovered that they were not crude relics of a barbarian people, but monuments of the most magnificent and exotic Hellenistic art, gradually followed by examples of Roman sculpture and painting.
Rich, vivid, boldly fantastic designs and images formed a continuous pattern of wall painting whose lines and colours were indescribable. She felt a sense of calm and reassurance as she stood before the images of pheasants and peacocks, the iconography so dear to Mithra. For a moment she forgot all the fears that this place aroused in her.
But what fear? But what threat? What thought could Leonbruna have had, thinking of doing her a disfavour by shutting her up there? In this tangle of Athenian rationality, Leonbruna's strange, eerie, biform appearance ceased to be a threat to her mind.
Had she been a nymph, a satyr, or whatever else Leonbruna was, what was the difference between her and catizi, sirens, cercopi and cynocephali? She was simply a species that did not conform to the known laws of biology. After all, was no more dangerous than the strength of her muscles. But one doubt remained in her.
Nearer the end of the cave were scenes of the utmost picturesqueness and extravagance: contrasting visions of cities and unnamed natural environments. The celestial scenes were almost too extravagant to believe, depicting a world hidden within another, filled with glorious cities and ethereal hills and valleys.
Amongst the delicious images of Egyptian daily life, there were concealed traces of creatures similar to Leonbruna, who, invisible to human eyes, seemed to inspire artists and poets. What was it about this place that should have frightened her, if not maybe the thought of starvation?
Lying still with her eyes closed, free to think, many things she had so lightly noticed in the frescoes came back to her with a new and terrible meaning: scenes depicting not the splendour of men, but that of the nymphs who inspired such men. Their presence puzzled her, for she could not recall such iconography and the depiction of nymphs in the art of temples and private houses. No mention of feline creatures like Leonbruna.
It was as if the people buried there had lived in another land, and yet it was hers too. But if nymphs had lived so close to humans for centuries, where were they now? They were still there, hidden in a veil that hid them from the eyes of man, or they had left mankind to itself.
She thought curiously of the years she had spent studying under the gaze of statues of the muses and paintings of nymphs, and couldn't help but wonder if this or that success had had some external impetus, and what the nymphs had gained from it.
Perhaps as the men learned from the nymphs and developed their skills, the nymphs learned in return. It was a nice thought, but in the later paintings the mental associations became less curious and more terrifying. Burned temples and sacred groves, destroyed by hordes of fanatics a few generations before, were accompanied by images of nymphs and satyrs with nowhere to run.
Sadness filled Medulfa's face, but then she was brought back to the present. She had yet to discover the terrible fate that Leonbruna believed awaited her there. She shouldn't have wanted to found out, but her mind was drawn to the next room, which was impressively large.
"Who is this little wolf?" whispered a creature hidden in the shadows, the moment Medulfa entered. "Don't be afraid, I'm not very hungry at the moment, just curious."
"I am Medulfa Calpurnia Asclepiades. I've been locked in here and I'm looking for a way out," said Medulfa, lifting the lantern trying to figure out who she was talking to.
It was huge. As it moved towards the light, Medulfa saw a being with a golden mane, a smiling face like a girl's, and the chest of a lion; but in its mouth it had all the teeth of a wolf, the arms of a bear, the claws of a griffin, and the torso, body and tail of a dragon. It had wings painted like a peacock.
Was it her? Was it the curse of Oedipus? The famous Sphinx of Egypt, or at least one of them?
"Do you like riddles?" said Medulfa without thinking.
Medulfa was anxious to appear friendly for the time being, until she found a way out of that place. Despite what she said, the sphinx sounded very hungry, and very curious to find out if she was good to eat. The idea however of a game of riddles with Medulfa, postponed her desire for a meal.
"Riddles... you know us very well, even if I imagine that fear made your mind more alert..." the creature said, wrapping Medulfa in her coils, "...I guess you're in a hurry to finish our conversation and get out of here."
Medulfa was terrified and it was with difficulty that she managed to say: "I- I challenge you to a r- riddle contest: if I- I win, get me out of here unharmed."
"I guess it's a curse of us sphinxes that everyone knows what we are like, but I don't see why I shouldn't accept it. I'm tired of Leonbruna's questions and I think she's got enough by now to rebuild the library. So entertain me..." said the sphinx, before saying:
We are at a banquet of nature,
You see animals of many feature
but for manners, some of them fail
how many of them take off their tail?"
"None?" said Medulfa confused, since no animal takes off its tail before eating.
"Guess easily? It'll be fun. I just hope you can answer all the riddles or you'll end up in my belly. But I guess is your turn.
Medulfa wasn't very good at riddles and didn't know what to say, but as the coils of the sphinx's tail squeezed her tighter and tighter, something came out of her mouth:
I have no friends, no lovers, no family,
None waits me at home, this is insanity!
I have no confidant and no consoler
Nobody wants me, it is a warfare
What am I?
"You are alone..." said the sphinx, "...but know is my turn."
By Moon or by Sun, I shall be found.
Yet I am undone, if there's no light around.
"It cannot be seen, it cannot be felt..." said Medulfa in panic. This is not easy, my dear, I suspect even for you, but by looking around Medulfa came to the following conclusion: "Shadow."
Thus she spoke, and before the sphinx could get angry, she immediately came up with a new riddle.
You can't see it, but you know when it's there.
It linger in the glances, suspended in the air.
Anyone needs it, it seems to me fair.
Some are its object, but are unaware.
Missing it makes me suffer. Don't make it rare.
"Love..." said the sphinx, "...what you miss is love." Then the sphinx thought it was time to ask something hard. This is what he said:
They belong to me; they belong to you;
They can make you feel happy or make you feel blue;
They will never end until the day you do.
Medulfa could see the beast's fangs coming closer and closer as her heart beat faster and faster. Think, Medulfa thinks. Think, think, think...
"Thoughts?" said Medulfa.
The sphinx withdrew its fangs and waited, but Medulfa couldn't think of any riddles with the creature that held her in its coils. If she had won, what would have stopped it from eating her anyway?
“So, make your riddle” said the sphinx.
She thought of a riddle, but she couldn't think of anything. The grip around her became stronger as the hunger of that beast grew. Then the sphinx said:
Riddle us, or I will rip you.
I reap lives and you will be too
Medulfa started to cry and said:
I am sad and suffering, what should I do?
The sphinx released her grip and let Medulfa fall to the floor, then staggered across the room in complete crisis.
"What should she do? What should she do?" said the sphinx, trying to solve a riddle too difficult for him.
Meanwhile, Medulfa continued to cry, until her fingers touched her tears, and her grief gave way to immense anger. And so, while the sphinx struggled with this riddle, Medulfa boiled and simmered. She was lonely, unhappy, and now she was also frail and weak.
Where was the fighting Medulfa? The one who spoke and answered with her head held high? The she-wolf of Rome, whom everyone considered worthy of Mars' attentions. Would they take that away from her too? A strange shadow covered Medulfa's eyes, and with sheer muscle power she forcefully unhinged a metal torch from the wall.
"What should she do?" said the Sphinx in a beastly rage before she threw herself at Medulfa.
With one swift blow, holding the torch like a sledgehammer, she struck the beast in the temple, knocking it unconscious.
Medulfa left the Sphinx where it was and continued her search for an exit. She was angry. And if no one would give her what she deserved, she would take it by force.
But while she seethes with rage, I think we can wait. We will catch up with her in the next chapter, for it is dangerous to be near her now. But I promise that the prize will be worth the wait, because there will be a surprise for those who are willing to following me there.
