Gene Wolfe - The Lost Pilgrim.pdf - fantasy - rhea137

The Lost Pilgrim

Gene Wolfe

Gene Wolfe came to prominence as a writer in the late '60s with a sequence of short

stories—including "The Hero as Werewolf," "Seven American Nights," and "The Island of Doctor

Death and Other Stories"—in Damon Knight's Orbit anthologies. His early major novels were The

Fifth Head of Cerberus and Peace, but he established his reputation with a sequence of three long

multi-volume novels —The Book of the New Sun (4 vols), The Book of the Long Sun (4 vols), The

Book of the Short Sun (3 vols)—and pendant volume, The Urth of the New Sun. Wolfe has published

a number of short story collections, including The Island of Doctor Death and Other Stories and

Other Stories, Endangered Species, and Strange Travelers. He has won the Nebula Award and World

Fantasy Award twice, the Locus Award four times, the John W. Campbell Memorial Award, the

British Fantasy Award, the British SF Award, and is the recipient of the World Fantasy Award for

Lifetime Achievement. Wolfe's most recent books are collection Innocents Aboard and major new

fantasy novel The Wizard Knight. Upcoming is a new collection of science fiction stories.

In the story that follows a modern day chrononaut unexpectedly finds himself off-target, out of

step, and in the company of argonauts.

Before leaving my own period, I resolved to keep a diary; and indeed I told several others I would, and

promised to let them see it upon my return. Yesterday I arrived, captured no Pukz, and compiled no text.

No more inauspicious beginning could be imagined.

I will not touch my emergency rations. I am hungry, and there is nothing to eat; but how absurd it would

be to begin in such a fashion! No. Absolutely not. Let me finish this, and I will go off in search of

breakfast.

To begin. I find myself upon a beach, very beautiful and very empty, but rather too hot and much too

shadeless to be pleasant. "Very empty," I said, but how can I convey just how empty it really is? (Pukz

1-3)

As you see, there is sun and there is water, the former remarkably hot and bright, the latter remarkably

blue and clean. There is no shade, and no one who—

A sail! Some kind of sailboat is headed straight for this beach. It seems too small, but this could be it.

(Puk 4)

I cannot possibly describe everything that happened today. There was far, far too much. I can only give a

rough outline. But first I should say that I am no longer sure why I am here, if I ever was. On the beach

last night, just after I arrived, I felt no doubts. Either I knew why I had come, or I did not think about it.

There was that time when they were going to send me out to join the whateveritwas expedition—the little

man with the glasses. But I do not think this is that; this is something else.

Not the man getting nailed up, either.

It will come to me. I am sure it will. In such a process of regression there cannot help but be metal

confusion. Do I mean metal? The women's armor was gold or brass. Something like that. They marched

out onto the beach, a long line of them, all in the gold armor. I did not know they were women.

I hid behind rocks and took Pukz. (See Pukz 5-9) The reflected glare made it difficult, but I got some

good shots just the same.

They banged their spears on their shields and made a terrible noise, but when the boat came close

enough for us to see the men on it (Pukz 10 and 11) they marched back up onto the hill behind me and

stood on the crest. It was then that I realized they were women; I made a search for "women in armor"

and found more than a thousand references, but all those I examined were to Joan of Arc or similar

figures. This was not one woman but several hundreds.

I do not believe there should be women in armor, anyway. Or men in armor, like those who got off the

boat. Swords, perhaps. Swords might be all right. And the name of the boat should be two words, I

think.

The men who got off this boat are young and tough-looking. There is a book of prayers in my pack, and

I am quite certain it was to be a talisman. "O God, save me by thy name and defend my cause by thy

might." But I cannot imagine these men being impressed by any prayers.

Some of these men were in armor and some were not. One who had no armor and no weapons left the

rest and started up the slope. He has an intelligent face, and though his staff seemed sinister, I decided to

risk everything. To tell the truth I thought he had seen me and was coming to ask what I wanted. I was

wrong, but he would surely have seen me as soon as he took a few more steps. At any rate, I switched

on my translator and stood up. He was surprised, I believe, at my black clothes and the buckles on my

shoes; but he is a very smooth man, always exceedingly polite. His name is Ekkiawn. Or something like

that. (Puk 12) Ekkiawn is as near as I can get to the pronunciation.

I asked where he and the others were going, and when he told me, suggested that I might go with them,

mentioning that I could talk to the Native Americans. He said it was impossible, that they had sworn to

accept no further volunteers, that he could speak the language of Kolkkis himself, and that the upper

classes of Kolkkis all spoke English.

I, of course, then asked him to say something in English and switched off my translator. I could not

understand a word of it.

At this point he began to walk again, marking each stride with his beautiful staff, a staff of polished

hardwood on which a carved snake writhes. I followed him, switched my translator back on, and

complimented him on his staff.

He smiled and stroked the snake. "My father permits me to use it," he said. "The serpent on his own is

real, of course. Our tongues are like our emblems, I'm afraid. He can persuade anyone of anything.

Compared to him, my own tongue is mere wood."

I said, "I assume you will seek to persuade those women that you come in peace. When you do, will they

teach you to plant corn?"

He stopped and stared at me. "Are they women? Don't toy with me."

I said I had observed them closely, and I was quite sure they were.

"How interesting! Come with me."

As we approached the women, several of them began striking their shields with their spears, as before.

(Puk 13) Ekkiawn raised his staff. "My dear young ladies, cease! Enchanting maidens, desist! You

suppose us pirates. You could not be more mistaken. We are the aristocracy of the Minyans. Nowhere

will you find young men so handsome, so muscular, so wealthy, so well bred, or so well connected. I

myself am a son of Hodios. We sail upon a most holy errand, for we would return the sacred ramskin to

Mount Laphystios."

The women had fallen silent, looking at one another and particularly at an unusually tall and comely

woman who stood in the center of their line.

"Let there be peace between us," Ekkiawn continued. "We seek only fresh water and a few days' rest,

for we have had hard rowing. We will pay for any supplies we receive from you, and generously. You

will have no singing arrows nor blood-drinking spears from us. Do you fear sighs? Languishing looks?

Gifts of flowers and jewelry? Say so if you do, and we will depart in peace."

A woman with gray hair straggling from under her helmet tugged at the sleeve of the tall woman. (Puk 14)

Nodding, the tall woman stepped forward. "Stranger, I am Hupsipule, Queen of Lahmnos. If indeed you

come in peace—"

"We do," Ekkiawn assured her.

"You will not object to my conferring with my advisors."

"Certainly not."

While the queen huddled with four other women, Ekkiawn whispered, "Go to the ship like a good fellow,

and find Eeasawn, our captain. Tell him these are women and describe the queen. Name her."

Thinking that this might well be the boat I was supposed to board after all and that this offered as good a

chance to ingratiate myself with its commander as I was ever likely to get, I hurried away. I found

Eeasawn without much trouble, assured him that the armed figures on the hilltop were in fact women in

armor ("both Ekkiawn and I saw that quite clearly") and told him that the tallest, good-looking,

black-haired, and proud, was Queen Hupsipule,

He thanked me. "And you are… ?"

"A humble pilgrim seeking the sacred ramskin, where I hope to lay my heartfelt praise at the feet of God."

"Well spoken, but I cannot let you sail with us, Pilgrim. This ship is already as full of men as an egg is of

meat. But should—"

Several members of the crew were pointing and shouting. The women on the hilltop were removing their

armor and so revealing their gender, most being dressed in simple frocks without sleeves, collars, or

buttons. (Puk 15) There was a general rush from the ship.

Let me pause here to comment upon the men's clothing, of which there is remarkably little, many being

completely naked. Some wear armor, a helmet and a breastplate, or a helmet alone. A few more wear

loose short-sleeved shirts that cover them to mid-thigh. The most remarkable is certainly the captain, who

goes naked except for a single sandal. (Pukz 16 and 17)

For a moment or two, I stood watching the men from the ship talking to the women. After conversations

too brief to have consisted of much more than introductions, each man left with three or more women,

though our captain departed with the queen alone (Puk 18), and Ekkiawn with five. I had started to turn

away when the largest and strongest hand I have ever felt closed upon my shoulder.

"Look 'round here, Pilgrim. Do you really want to go to Kolkkis with us?"

The speaker was a man of immense size, bull-necked and pig-eyed (Puk 19); I felt certain that it would

be dangerous to reply in the negative.

"Good! I promised to guard the ship, you see, the first time it needed guarding."

"I am not going to steal anything," I assured him.

"I didn't think so. But if you change your mind, I'm going to hunt you down and break your neck. Now,

then, I heard you and Eeasawn. You watch for me, hear? While I go into whatever town those

split-tailed soldiers came out of and get us some company. Two enough for you?"

Not knowing what else to do, I nodded.

"Me?" He shrugged shoulders that would have been more than creditable on a bull gorilla. "I knocked up

fifty girls in one night once. Not that I couldn't have done it just about any other night, too, only that was

the only time I've had a crack at fifty. So a couple for you and as many as I can round up for me. And if

your two have anything left when you're done up, send 'em over. Here." He handed me a spear. "You're

our guard 'til I get back."

I am waiting his return; I have removed some clothing because of the heat and in the hope of ingratiating

myself with any women who may return with him. Hahraklahs is his name.

Hours have passed since I recorded the account you just read. No one has come, neither to molest our

boat nor for any other reason. I have been staring at the stars and examining my spear. It has a smooth

hardwood shaft and a leaf-shaped blade of copper or brass. I would not have thought such a blade could

be sharpened, but it is actually very sharp.

It is also wrong. I keep thinking of spears with flared mouths like trumpets. And yet I must admit that my

spear is a sensible weapon, while the spears with trumpet mouths would be senseless as well as useless.

These are the most beautiful stars in the world. I am beginning to doubt that I have come at the right

period, and to tell the truth I cannot remember what the right period was. It does not matter, since no one

can possibly use the same system. But this period in which I find myself has the most beautiful stars, bar

none. And the closest.

There are voices in the distance. I am prepared to fight, if I must.

We are at sea. I have been rowing; my hands are raw and blistered. We are too many to row all at once,

so we take turns. Mine lasted most of the morning. I pray for a wind.

I should have brought prophylactics. It is possible I have contracted some disease, though I doubt it. The

women (Apama and Klays, Pukz 20-25, infrared) were interesting, both very eager to believe that I was

the son of some king or other and very determined to become pregnant. Apama has killed her husband

for an insult, stabbing him in his sleep.

Long after we had finished and washed ourselves in this strange tideless sea, Hahraklahs was still

engaged with his fifteen or twenty. (They came and went in a fashion that made it almost impossible to

judge the exact number.) When the last had gone, we sat and talked. He has had a hard life in many

ways, for he is a sort of slave to one Eurustheus who refuses to speak to him or even look at him. He has

been a stableman and so forth. He says he strangled the lion whose skin he wears, and he is certainly

very strong. I can hardly lift his brass-bound club, which he flourishes like a stick.

If it were not for him, I would not be on this boat. He has taken a liking to me because I did not want to

stay at Lahmnos. He had to kidnap about half the crew to get us out to sea again, and two could not be

found. Kaeneus (Puk 26) says the crew wanted to depose Captain Eeasawn and make Hahraklahs

captain, but he remained loyal to Eeasawn and would not agree. Kaeneus also confided that he himself

underwent a sex-change operation some years ago. Ekkiawn warned me that Kaeneus is the most

dangerous fighter on the boat; I suppose he was afraid I would ridicule him. He is a chief, Ekkiawn says,

of the Lapiths; this seems to be a Native American tribe.

I am certainly on the wrong vessel. There are two points I am positive of. The first is the name of the

captain. It was Jones. Captain Jones. This cannot be Eeasawn, whose name does not even begin with J.

The second is that there was to be someone named Brewster on board, and that I was to help this

Brewster (or perhaps Bradford) talk with the Lapiths. There is no one named Bradford among my

present companions—I have introduced myself to all of them and learned their names. No Brewsters.

Thus this boat cannot be the one I was to board.

On the positive side, I am on a friendly footing now with the Lapith chief. That seems sure to be of value

when I find the correct ship and reach Atlantis.

I have discussed this with Argos. Argos (Puk 27) is the digitized personality of the boat. (I wonder if the

women who lay with him realized that?) He points out—wisely, I would say—that the way to locate a

vessel is to visit a variety of ports, making inquiries at each. In order to do that, one should be on another

vessel, one making a long voyage with many ports of call. That is my situation, which might be far worse.

We have sighted two other boats, both smaller than our own.

Our helmsman, said to be an infallible weather prophet, has announced that we will have a stiff west wind

by early afternoon. Our course is northeast for Samothrakah, which I take to be another island. We are

forty-nine men and one woman.

She is Atalantah of Kaludon (Pukz 28-30), tall, slender, muscular, and quite beautiful. Ekkiawn

introduced me to her, warning me that she would certainly kill me if I tried to force her. I assured her, and

him, that I would never do such a thing. In all honesty I cannot say I have talked with her, but I listened to

her for some while. Hunting is the only thing she cares about. She has hunted every large animal in her

part of the world and joined Eeasawn's expedition in hope of hunting grups, a fierce bird never seen west

of our destination. They can be baited to a blind to feed upon the bodies of horses or cattle, she says.

From that I take them to be some type of vulture. Her knowledge of lions, stags, wild swine, and the

dogs employed to hunt all three is simply immense.

At sea again, course southeast and the wind dead astern. Now that I have leisure to bring this account up

to date, I sit looking out at the choppy waves pursuing us and wonder whether you will believe even a

fraction of what I have to relate.

In Samothrakah we were to be initiated into the Cult of Persefonay, a powerful goddess. I joined in the

preparations eagerly, not only because it would furnish insight into the religious beliefs of these amoral but

very superstitious men, but also because I hoped—as I still do—that the favor of the goddess would

bring me to the rock whose name I hare forgotten, the rock that is my proper destination.

We fasted for three days, drinking water mixed with wine but eating no solid food. On the evening of the

third day we stripped and daubed each other with a thin white mixture which I suspect was little more

than chalk dispersed in water. That done, we shared a ritual supper of boiled beans and raw onions.

(Pukz 31 and 32)

Our procession reached the cave of Persefassa, as she is also called, about midnight. We extinguished

our torches in an underground pool and received new ones, smaller torches that burned with a clear,

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