“What means noticed?”
“Seen. Realized that. You know that.”
“Maybe you say he not entirely same as me; my mother couldn’t mistake him for me. But you too not the same as this friend because he has mark on cheek and you no. And your friend different from that other one black like one Magi, and him different from that other with black beard like a rabbi.”
“How do you know I have a rabbi’s beard?” Solomon asked hopefully, obviously thinking of the lost tribes, and deducing from those words a clear sign that they had passed through here or were living in this kingdom.
“Have you ever seen other rabbis?”
“Me no, but all say rabbi’s beard down in Pndapetzim.”
Boron said: “Let’s get to the point. This skiapod can’t see the difference between himself and a blemmy, any more than we can see any between Porcelli and Baudolino. If you think about it, this happens when you meet strangers. Between two Moors, can you see a real difference?”
“Yes,” Baudolino said, “but a blemmy and a skiapod aren’t like us and Moors, since we see them only when we go to their country. They all live in the same province, and he can distinguish between one blemmy and another, if he says that the one we just saw is his friend, and the others not.
Now listen to me carefully, Gavagai: you said that in the province live some panotians. I know what the panotians are, they are people almost like us, except they have two ears so huge that they come down to their knees, and when it’s cold they wrap them around their body like a cloak. Is this how panotians are?”
“Yes, like us. I have ears, too.” “But not down to your knees, by God!”
“You have ears much bigger than your friend next you.” “But not like the panotians, dammit!”
“Each has the ears his mother made for him.”
“Then why do you say that there is bad blood between the skiapods and the blemmyae?”
“Blemmyae think wrong.” “Wrong how?”
“They Christians who make mistake. They phantasistoi. They say right, like us, that Son not the same nature as Father, because Father exists since before time began, but Son is created by Father, not for need but for wish. So Son is adoptive son of God, no? Blemmyae say: Yes, Son has not same nature as Father, but this Verbum even if only adoptive son cannot make himself flesh. So Jesus never became flesh; what apostles saw was only … how to say?…phantasma…”
“Pure appearance.”
“There. They say only phantasma of Son died on cross, not born in Bethlehem, not born of Maria, one day on river Jordan before John the Baptist he appear and all say Oh. But if Son not flesh, how he says this bread my body? And so they not make communion with bread and burq.” “Maybe because they would have to suck the wine, or whatever you call it, with that straw,” the Poet said.
“And the panotians?” Baudolino asked.
“Oh, they don’t care what Son does when he comes down to earth. They think only of Holy Spirit. I tell you: they say Christians in west think Holy Spirit proceeds from Father and from Son. They protest and say this from Son was put afterwards and in the Credo of Constantinople it doesn’t say. Holy Spirit for them proceeds only from Father. They think contrary to pygmies. Pygmies says Holy Spirit proceeds only from Son and not from Father. Panotians hate most of all pygmies.”
“Friends,” Baudolino said, turning to his companions, “it seems obvious to me that the various races existing in this province give no importance to bodily differences, to color or shape, as we do, when even if we see a dwarf we consider him a horror of nature.
But instead, like many of our learned men, for that matter, they attach great importance to the difference of ideas about Christ, or the Most Holy Trinity, of which we have heard so much talk in Paris. It is their way of thinking. We must try to understand this; otherwise we’ll be forever lost in endless arguments. Very well, we’ll pretend the blemmyae are like the skiapods, and what they think about the nature of Our Lord doesn’t concern us after all.”
“From what I understand, the skiapods share the terrible Arian heresy,” Boron said, who, as always, was the one among them who had read the most books.
“So?” the Poet said. “It seems to me a question for Greeklings. We in the north were more concerned about which pope was the real one, and which the antipope, insisting that it all depended on a whim of our late Lord Rainald. Everyone has his own defects. Baudolino’s right: let’s act as if it were nothing and ask him to take us to his deacon, who won’t amount to
much but at least his name is John.”
They then asked Gavagai to take them to Pndapetzim, and he set off, hopping moderately, to allow the horses to keep up with him. After two hours they reached the end of the sea of fern and entered a cultivated area of olive and fruit groves: below the trees were seated, looking at them with curiosity, some beings of almost human features, who greeted them with their hands while emitting only howls. They were, Gavagai explained, the tongueless, who lived outside the city because they were Messalians, believing you could go to heaven only thanks to silent and continuous prayer, without taking the sacraments, without performing works of mercy or other mortifications, without ritual practices. Therefore they never went to the churches of Pndapetzim. They were shunned by all because they believed that work was also an act of mercy and therefore useless.
They lived in great poverty, feeding on the fruits of these trees, which, however, belonged to the whole community, and which they exploited without any restraint.
“Otherwise they are just like you, aren’t they?” the Poet teased him. “They are like us when we are silent.”
The mountains were coming closer all the time, and the closer they came, the more the friends grew aware of their nature. At the end of the rocky area, some soft, yellowish little mounds rose gradually, as if, Colandrino suggested, they were made of whipped cream; no, of piles of spun sugar; wrong, heaps of sand placed one next to the other, as if they were forest. Behind rose what had seemed in the distance fingers, rocky peaks, which at their top were capped with darker rock, sometimes in the form of a hood, others like an almost flat lid, protruding before and behind.
Seen more closely, the rises were less pointed, but each seemed riddled with holes like a wasp’s nest, until it was clear that these were habitations, or hostels, of stone, caves that had been dug from the rock, and each of them was reached by a single wooden ladder, the various ladders bound to one another from level to level and all together forming, for each of those spurs, an aerial maze that the inhabitants, who from the distance still seemed ants, climbed with agility, up and down.
In the center of the city were seen actual houses or buildings, but they were also set into the rock, from which a few feet of façade jutted, and all up high. Farther on, a more important massif was outlined, irregular in form, it, too, a hive of grottos, but of more geometric shape, like so many windows or doors, and in some instances from those fornices terraces extended, loggias, little balconies. Some of those entrances were covered by a colored curtain, others by mats of woven straw. In other words, the friends were in the center of a cloister of quite wild mountains, and at the same time in the center of a populous and active city, even if surely not as magnificent as they would have expected.
They could tell that the city was active and populous from the crowd that animated what were not the streets and squares but, rather, the spaces between peak and spur, between massif and natural tower. It was a multicolored crowd, in which dogs and asses mingled, and many camels, which the travelers had seen at the beginning of their journey, but never so many and so different as in this place, some with one hump, others with two, and still others even with three. They saw also a fire-eater, performing before a cluster of inhabitants while holding a panther on a leash.
The animals that most surprised them were some very agile quadrupeds, trained to draw carts: they had the body of a foal, quite long legs with bovine hoofs, they were yellow with great brown spots, and, above all, they had a very long neck surmounted by a camel’s head with two little horns at the top. Gavagai said they were cameleopards, difficult to capture because they fled very swiftly, and only the skiapods could pursue them and rope them.
In effect, though without streets and without squares, that city was all one immense market, and in every free space a tent had been set up, a pavilion erected, a carpet spread out on the ground, a plank laid horizontally on two stones. And they could see displays of fruit, cuts of meat (especially prized, that of the cameleopard), carpets woven with all the colors of the rainbow, clothing, knives of black obsidian, stone hatchets, clay cups, necklaces of bones and of little red and yellow gems, hats of the oddest
