They realized that their mere presence had kindled the imagination of that young prince perennially shut up in his circular prison and that, if you live there where the sun rises, you cannot help but dream of the marvels of the sunset country (especially, the Poet went on murmuring—luckily in Teutonic—if you live in a shit-ass place like Pndapetzim).
Then the deacon understood that his guests also wanted to know some things and he remarked that perhaps, after so many years of absence, they did not remember how to return to the kingdom from which, according to tradition, they came, also because over the centuries a series of earthquakes, and other transformations of that land of theirs had profoundly altered mountains and plains.
He explained how difficult it was to proceed through the pass and cross the swamp, he warned them that the rainy season was beginning, and it was not wise to set off on their journey at once. “Furthermore, my eunuchs,” he said, “will have to send messengers to my father, to tell him of your visit, and they must then return with his consent to your journey. The road is long, and all this will take a year or even more. In the meantime, you must await the arrival of your brother. I may tell you that here you will be given lodging worthy of your rank.” He said this in an almost mechanical voice, as if he were reciting a lesson just learned.
The guests asked him what was the function and the fate of a deacon John, and he explained that, perhaps in their day things did not yet proceed thus, for the laws of the kingdom had been in fact modified after the departure of the Magi. It should not be thought that the priest was a single person who had continued to reign for millennia; it was a high position. At the death of each priest, his deacon ascended the throne. Then, immediately, dignitaries of the kingdom went out to visit all the families, and they identified, by certain miraculous signs, a boy-child not yet three months of age, who became the future heir and putative son of the priest. The child was joyfully given up by his family and was immediately sent to Pndapetzim, where he spent his childhood and youth being prepared to succeed his adoptive father, to fear him, honor him, and love him.
The young man spoke with a sad voice because, he said, it is fated that a deacon cannot remember his carnal father, nor see his putative one, not even on his catafalque, because from the moment of his death to the moment when the heir reached the capital of the kingdom, as he had said, a year went by, at least.
“I will see only—and I hope this occurs as late as possible—the effigy,” he said, “imprinted on his winding sheet, in which he will be wrapped before the funeral, the body having been covered with oils and other miraculous substances that print the forms on the linen.” Then he said: “You must stay here for a long time, and I ask that you come and visit me every now and then. I love hearing tales of the wonders of the Occident.
Even stories of the thousand battles and sieges that, it is said, make life there worthy of being lived. I see weapons at your sides far more beautiful and powerful than those used here, and I imagine that you have led armies in battle, as befits a king, while in our country we have been preparing for war since time immemorial, but I have never had the pleasure of commanding an army in the open field.” He was not inviting, he was almost beseeching, and in the tone of a young man whose mind has been fired by books of wondrous adventures.
“Provided you do not fatigue yourself excessively, sire,” said Praxeas with great reverence. “Now it is late and you are tired; it would be best to dismiss your visitors.” The deacon nodded, but from the gesture of resignation that accompanied his farewell, Baudolino and his friends realized who really commanded in this place.
- Baudolino waits to leave for the kingdom of Prester John
Baudolino had been talking too long, and Niketas was hungry.
Theophilactus made him sit down to supper, offering him caviar of various fish, followed by a soup with onions and olive oil, served on a plate full of bread crumbs, then a sauce of minced shellfish, seasoned with wine, oil, garlic, cinnamon, oregano, and mustard. Not much, considering his tastes, but Niketas did himself proud. While the women, who had eaten by themselves, prepared to sleep, Niketas resumed questioning Baudolino, eager to learn if he had finally arrived at the kingdom of the Priest. “You want to rush me, Master Niketas, but at Pndapetzim we remained two long years, and at first time passed slowly, unchanging.
No news of Zosimos, and Praxeas reminded us that if the twelfth of our group did not arrive, without the announced gift for the Priest, it was pointless for us to set out on our journey. Besides, every week brought us further, disheartening news: the rainy season had lasted longer than predicted and the swamp had become more than ever impassable, there was no word of the envoys sent to the Priest, perhaps they were unable to find again the only path…. Then the good season came and there was talk that the White Huns were arriving, a nubian had sighted them to the north, and no men could be spared to accompany us on such a difficult journey, and so on and on.
Not knowing what to do, we learned, little by little, to express ourselves in the various languages of that country; by now we knew that if a pygmy cried ü Hekinah degul, he meant that he was happy, and the greeting to exchange with him was Lumus kelmin pesso desmar lon emposo, which means that you pledged not to make war against him and his people; and that if a giant replied to a question with Bodhkoom it meant that he didn’t know, that the nubians called a horse nek perhaps in imitation of nekbrafpfar, which was camel, while the blemmyae for horse said houyhmhmm, and this was the only time we heard sounds uttered that were not vowels, a sign that they were inventing a never-used term for an animal they had never seen; the skiapods prayed saying Hai coba, which for them meant Pater Noster, and they called fire deba, rainbow deta, and dog zita.
The eunuchs, during their Mass, praised God singing: Khondinbas Ospamerostas, kamedumas karpanemphas, kapsinumas Kamerostas perisimbasrostam-prostamas. We were becoming inhabitants of
Pndapetzim, so much so that the blemmyae or the panotians didn’t seem all that different from us. We had been transformed into a band of idlers, Boron and Ardzrouni spent their days debating the vacuum, and in fact Ardzrouni had persuaded Gavagai to put him in touch with a ponce carpenter, and was contriving with him to see if it was possible to construct only from wood, without any metal, one of his miraculous pumps.
When Ardzrouni was devoting himself to his mad venture, Boron went off with Kyot, riding into the plains and daydreaming of the Grasal as they kept their eyes alert to see if the ghost of Zosimos might appear on the horizon. Perhaps, Boidi suggested, he had taken a different route, had encountered the White Huns, God knows what he had told them, those probable idolaters, and he was convincing them to attack the kingdom. …
Porcelli, Cuttica, and Aleramo Scaccabarozzi known as Bonehead, who had taken part in the founding of Alessandria and thus gained some knowledge of construction, had got it into their heads to convince the inhabitants of the province that four well-built walls were better than their pigeon roosts, and they had found some giants whose trade was scooping out those holes in the cliff, but were willing to learn how to mix concrete mortar or shape bricks of clay and put them in the sun to dry.
At the edges of the city five or six hovels had risen, but one fine morning the friends saw them occupied by the men without tongues, vagabonds by vocation, and professional spongers.
The locals tried to oust them by throwing rocks, but they were tough. Boidi, every evening, looked towards the pass, to see if good weather had returned. In other words, each of us had invented his own way of killing time, we had become accustomed to that disgusting food, and, worst of all, we could no longer do without burq. We were consoled by the fact that the kingdom was only a stone’s throw away, that is, a year’s march if all went well, but we no longer were obliged to discover anything, nor to find any road; we had only to wait until the eunuchs led us along the right one.
We were, so to speak, blissfully enervated, and happily bored. Each of us, except for Colandrino, was by now along in years: I was past fifty; at that age people die if they haven’t already died years before. We thanked the Lord, and obviously that air was good for us, because we all seemed rejuvenated; apparently I looked ten years younger than when I had arrived. Our bodies were vigorous and our spirits were lax, if I may put it that way. We had become so identified with the people of Pndapetzim that we had even begun to participate passionately in their theological debates.” “Whose side were you
