suppose. There can be no life without tumult or desire.â He sighed, and glanced up at Rebecca again. âAnd if I tell you all this, it is so you can understand, both my passion for Haidée, and why I acted on it; for I knew - and even now, even here, I think I was right - that to smother an impulse is to kill the soul. And so when Vakhel Pasha, leaving Tapaleen with his serf in tow, requested us to stay with him in Aheron, I accepted. Hobhouse was furious, and swore he wouldnât go; even Ali frowned mysteriously, and shook his head - but I wouldnât be persuaded. And so it was agreed, that I would travel with Hobhouse down the Yanina road, and then we would separate, Hobhouse to tour Ambracia, and myself to stay in Aheron. We would meet again, after three weeks, in a town on the south coast named Missolonghi.â
Again Lord Byron frowned. âAll most romantic, you see - and yet, if it was quite true that I was sick with passion to an extent I scarcely understood myself, that was not everything.â He shook his head. âNo, there was another reason for my visit to Aheron. On the night before Vakhel Pashaâs departure, I had dreamed again. For the second time, I was amongst ruins, not of a small town now, but of a great city, so that wherever I looked, there was nothing but decay, the shattered steps of thrones and temples, dim fragments cast pale by the moon, tenanted by nothing but the jackal and the owl. Even the sepulchres, I saw, lay open and bare, and I knew, amongst all this vast expanse of wreckage, there was no other living man but me.
âI felt the Pashaâs nails across my throat again - felt his tongue as he lapped at my blood. Then I saw him ahead of me, a pale form luminous amidst the cypress and stone, and I followed him. Incredibly ancient, he seemed now - as ancient as the city he led me through, possessed of the wisdom of centuries, and the secrets of the grave. Ahead of us loomed the shadow of some titanic form. âFollow me,â I heard whispered; I approached the building; I walked inside. There were staircases, stretching and twisting impossibly; up one of them the Pasha walked, but when I ran to join him, the staircase fell away, and I was lost in a vast enclosure of space. Still the Pasha climbed, and still, in my head, I heard his call: âFollow me.â But I could not; I watched him, and felt a thirst more terrible than any longing I had ever known, to see what lay at the summit of the stairs, for I knew that it was immortality. High above my head, a dome arched, jewelled and glowing; if only I could reach that, I thought, I would understand, and my thirst would be slaked. But the Pasha was gone, and I stood abandoned to crimson shadow. âFollow me,â I could still hear as I struggled to wake, âfollow me,â but I opened my eyes, and the voice bled away on the morning light.
âI imagined sometimes, during the next few days, that I heard the whisper again. Of course, I knew it was fancy, but even so, I was left feeling restless and disturbed. I found myself desperate for Aheron.â
Chapter IV
âTis said thou holdest converse with the things
Which are forbidden to the search of man;
That with the dwellers of the dark abodes,
The many evil and unheavenly spirits
Which walkest the valley of the shadow of death,
Thou communest.
LORD BYRON, Manfred
H obhouse, as we had agreed, parted from me on the Yanina road. He rode on south; I turned back to the mountains, and the winding track to Aheron. We rode hard the whole day - I say we, for with Fletcher and myself came a single guard, a faithful rogue named Viscillie, lent to me, in a signal show of favour, by Ali Pasha himself. The crags and ravines were as lonely as ever; crossing through the desolate wilds a second time, I couldnât help but remember how easily my six guards had been picked off before. Yet I never felt truly worried - not even when we passed the site of
Again Lord Byron frowned. âAll most romantic, you see - and yet, if it was quite true that I was sick with passion to an extent I scarcely understood myself, that was not everything.â He shook his head. âNo, there was another reason for my visit to Aheron. On the night before Vakhel Pashaâs departure, I had dreamed again. For the second time, I was amongst ruins, not of a small town now, but of a great city, so that wherever I looked, there was nothing but decay, the shattered steps of thrones and temples, dim fragments cast pale by the moon, tenanted by nothing but the jackal and the owl. Even the sepulchres, I saw, lay open and bare, and I knew, amongst all this vast expanse of wreckage, there was no other living man but me.
âI felt the Pashaâs nails across my throat again - felt his tongue as he lapped at my blood. Then I saw him ahead of me, a pale form luminous amidst the cypress and stone, and I followed him. Incredibly ancient, he seemed now - as ancient as the city he led me through, possessed of the wisdom of centuries, and the secrets of the grave. Ahead of us loomed the shadow of some titanic form. âFollow me,â I heard whispered; I approached the building; I walked inside. There were staircases, stretching and twisting impossibly; up one of them the Pasha walked, but when I ran to join him, the staircase fell away, and I was lost in a vast enclosure of space. Still the Pasha climbed, and still, in my head, I heard his call: âFollow me.â But I could not; I watched him, and felt a thirst more terrible than any longing I had ever known, to see what lay at the summit of the stairs, for I knew that it was immortality. High above my head, a dome arched, jewelled and glowing; if only I could reach that, I thought, I would understand, and my thirst would be slaked. But the Pasha was gone, and I stood abandoned to crimson shadow. âFollow me,â I could still hear as I struggled to wake, âfollow me,â but I opened my eyes, and the voice bled away on the morning light.
âI imagined sometimes, during the next few days, that I heard the whisper again. Of course, I knew it was fancy, but even so, I was left feeling restless and disturbed. I found myself desperate for Aheron.â
Chapter IV
âTis said thou holdest converse with the things
Which are forbidden to the search of man;
That with the dwellers of the dark abodes,
The many evil and unheavenly spirits
Which walkest the valley of the shadow of death,
Thou communest.
LORD BYRON, Manfred
H obhouse, as we had agreed, parted from me on the Yanina road. He rode on south; I turned back to the mountains, and the winding track to Aheron. We rode hard the whole day - I say we, for with Fletcher and myself came a single guard, a faithful rogue named Viscillie, lent to me, in a signal show of favour, by Ali Pasha himself. The crags and ravines were as lonely as ever; crossing through the desolate wilds a second time, I couldnât help but remember how easily my six guards had been picked off before. Yet I never felt truly worried - not even when we passed the site of
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