There are battles that should not end, and others that should not begin. So it was with Leonbruna who, in her zeal to protect what was dear to her, had almost destroyed what was dear to the one she loved. And so Leonbruna fell to her knees, torn in spirit and robbed of the will to continue the fight. Medulfa, seeing such despair in her opponent, began to see herself in her. Shame stopped one hand and pity lifted the other one.  

Medulfa threw aside her mace and with a hand on her shoulder said: "I do not know who are this Lycomans and this Valerina for whom you are so distraught, and for whom you have tried so hard to defend this library. But when I was young, these doors were opened to me and I was not denied knowledge. Now I am a physician, and I can cure so many people that I would not have been able to if these doors had been closed to me. So, speak, confide in me so that, like you, I may defend these walls which must always be open to those who want to know." 

There was no reply from Leonbruna, who took Medulfa to a secluded place. She was taken to the great hall of the baths. They were enclosed to the north and south by the two apothecaries' shops where Medulfa had learned the art of apothecary as a young girl. To the west lay the famous Library of Alexandria, or at least the part that was preserved in the Serapeum. To the east, separated by a wall with no entrance, were the cells containing the statues of Apollo, Dionysus and Jupiter Optimus Maximus. 

Leonbruna said nothing but sat down in front of one of these pools, perhaps in meditation or perhaps in the grip of memories. 

Following the teachings of Asclepias of Bithynia, Medulfa took some wine from the nearby apothecary and prepared a glass to calm Leonbruna's nerves. The nymph took a long sip, then her mind and tongue became lighter. 

"...years ago, though I could not say whether it was a few or many for you mere mortals, but certainly a few for me, two strangers came here: one from the north and the other from the south..." Leonbruna began her tale, "...the first, Lycomans, was a young silver-tongued catizus from Lycia. He was handsome, with a noble bearing, tanned skin, piercing grey eyes and dark hair. The second, Valerina, was a beauty from the mouth of the Nile: dark skin, black hair and eye purple in her left, golden in her right. 

Both came curiously to this library, and both seemed to be made for each other, certainly still are. Never in history has such a pair been seen unanimous in word and deed since the days of Penelope and Odysseus. 

Golden apples! In time this became their main interest, and I had no reason to suspect dark intrigues. How could I, seeing such a loving couple walking the corridors and discussing the great intellectuals, with whom even my Isengarda was in love?" 

Medulfa did not interrupt the story, but her thoughts returned to Madalgarius for a moment. It was a sweet thought, but one that quickly turned bitter when she thought of Marfisa, for she had learned how Madalgarius had used the golden apples, and how Marfisa was now searching for him, trying to get to him before she did. 

"Unfortunately, one day their interest became dark, if it had not been dark before. It was a fine spring day, if I am not mistaken, one of those beautiful days when lovers stand embracing in gardens. The topic of conversation was the judgement of Paris, and how a simple golden apple had made three goddesses quarrel. What power could this apple have to make goddesses feel this way? 

I told them not to take certain legends too seriously, for if there is a greater danger than not taking the gods seriously, it is taking them too seriously. A god does not bend for a mere apple, perhaps only their earthly incarnation of them could do so, and my words seemed to work. 

"That night, however, a mysterious woman came to visit us. Beautiful to look at, but not as one would expect a nymph to be. She was tall and commanded respect, and despite the beautiful dress that seemed to be embroidered with stars, that revealed a desirable flat pelvis, and that showed the underside of a good bosom, she was shrouded in such an aura of reverence that even I could not have the thoughts that I usually have at the sight of such feminine beauty. Only Isengarda, perhaps, had a regal bearing that could have come close to that of this nocturnal guest. 

She was alone, accompanied only by an oil lantern of an unusual moon-white light, and said she wished to visit the birthplace of a member of her retinue. 

I asked no questions, though I knew of no people born in this temple, least from the days when Euclid taught in the museum, but I let her in and, ignoring my warnings and advice, she went down into the Sphinx's cave while a young girl stood at the door. 

From the cryptic words she spoke, I inferred that this little girl was the one who had been born in this place, but she did not look like a nymph, or any other creature known to me that could survive the passage of centuries of time, at least not for that long. I could have asked who or what they were, but for the moment I was too afraid. 

Our mysterious guest told us not to talk to this little girl, for however talented she may be, she tends to give in when not accompanied by her older sisters and can be fallacious even when her intentions are good. 

I accepted the request, though I did not understand it, but as the young girl seemed bored, Lycomans and Valerina started talking to her. 

I should not have eavesdropped, but I heard them talking about the golden apples. Much of what they said to each other I missed because of my lack of interest, but the little girl told how one day her lady competed with two of her friends for a golden apple, and how that defeat still burns her to this day, though she will not admit it. They went on to talk about other things, many of which I could not understand, nor why they were so interested. 

The more I thought about it, the more it smacked of deception to me, this talking about old things, old even in my grandparents' time. I persuaded myself not to take what I heard too seriously, for the conviction grew in me that it was nothing more than a deception to consult the Sphinx under the guise of being ancient and mysterious creatures. 

I mean, what was I supposed to think? Should I have let my imagination run wild and imagined strange, ancient and mysterious beings coming to visit me at night out of sheer nostalgia? Mysterious and arcane beings, one of whom was born in a museum and still had a girlish appearance after such a long time? They were fake wises and the sphinx under the temple would have had his metal with them.  

Lycomans and Valerina thought otherwise and continued to chat until our mysterious guest returned from the catacomb. To my surprise she looked untouched by the sphinx. She probably ran away at the sights of the beast. I was too tired to investigate and waited them to leave the Serapeum. 

The next day, Lycomans and Valerina left the temple and headed east in search of the golden apple tree. I heard no more of them until I learned that Lycomans had become king of Hyrcania, but not before plundering the treasures of the nymph Dragontina, who rules in the north, east of the Tanais River. 

As soon as I heard of the suffering they had caused Dragontina, I ran to the Sphinx's lair and asked what the mysterious woman who had visited her long ago had asked. She asked nothing. She just wished to visit the birthplace of a member of her retinue. 

Three times the Sphinx had asked the mystery guest, three times the guest had solved the riddle. Three times the guest had asked the Sphinx, three times the Sphinx had failed to answer. 
Once, in anger, the Sphinx had tried to eat her, and not once had she succeeded. She fell to the ground by a divine will contrary to her own. 

I cannot tell you exactly what happened in that cave, though I have no reason to suspect that the creature that lies below is lying. What I can tell you is that this mysterious woman and that child were repositories of arcane knowledge that enabled Lycomans and Valerina to deceive and defraud the poor nymph Dragontina. 

On that day, I decided not to allow anyone I considered dangerous to acquire arcane and fey knowledge, but in the end, the one who had to stay away from this Library was me." 

Thus spoke Leonbruna, triggering a myriad of thoughts in Medulfa. 

Our wolf of Rome remained silent for a moment, then knelt before Leonbruna. Their reflections were mirrored in the still water of the pool, one standing before the other like mirrored reflections. Medulfa put her hands around Leonbruna's, then their foreheads touched. 

"I am only here to find my Madalgarius, but I swear to you by Philolaus of Tricca, known to all as Aesculapius, and by that Asclepiades of Bithynia who is so dear to me, that if my path should ever cross with that of these two traitors, I will bring vengeance and justice to you and to Dragontina." 

Leonbruna wiped away her tears and smiled faintly. She stopped her last sobs and said: "If you should meet my sweet Isengarda on your travels, tell her that I know who Marcus Tullius Cicero and Quintus Aurelius Symmachus are, and many others whom I will not mention now. I am no longer a scoundrel unworthy to be with Isengarda and his son."  

Thus spoke Leonbruna and said no more. Her spirit seemed broken, destroyed, in despair, and she continued to stare at the wall. Without strength she said nothing more. She took another sip of wine, her mind calmer, but still broken.  

Something was moving in Medulfa's heart: an inner pain, compounded by a sense of helplessness. She turned her head towards the entrance, where Spinalba stood watching in the distance.  

"Is there any way to heat the water in one of the tubs? I think we could do a relaxing bath."  

"Ah! We usually use mirrors to channel sunlight, during the day, but we have coal," said Spinalba, and immediately the boilers began to burn.  

Ah, Archimedes and his famous burning mirrors! Once used to set Roman ships on fire, now used to heat the water flowing through the pipes of the Serapeum... at least for those who choose to bathe during the day rather than at night. Too bad there is no Aesara, she would have enjoyed measuring the dimensions and distances of the mirrors and calculating the heat produced by concentrating the sunlight in one spot.  

I can describe the scene for you: imagine a group of young people having fun, splashing water here and there. Then, in a corner, a young olive-skinned woman with long brown hair stands behind you. Half of her body is submerged in the water, the other half is out of the water with her arms outstretched, scribbling something with pen and paper.  

A bit boring, don't you think? Don't worry: see that golden hair floating under the water? It's about to jump out and grab Aesara from behind, dragging her into the water with a deadly embrace. Poor Marfisa, now she has ink on her cheek for daring to disturb our octopus of Libya when she was trying to write.  

Despite everything, Medulfa too has something that makes her feel comfortable. Imagine yourself: you have studied the eight volumes of Celsus' De Medicina, learning the differences between mania, rage, frenzy, madness and delirium, and the use of therapeutic tools such as play, dialogue, reading and music for diseases of the mind. You have read De morbis acutis et chronicis by Celius Aurelianus and learned about the benefits of hydrotherapy for mental illness, not to mention the works of Galen. I am not saying that Leonbruna went mad, but imagine, after so much effort and study, now you are able to use what you have learned to make someone happy.  

Medulfa touched the water to test its temperature: they had the wine, the heat, the balms, the aromas... it was just one thing too many.  

"You three..." said Medulfa to three overly curious young catizi: two boys and a girl.  

The three flew away and Medulfa and Leonbruna were able to undress in peace.  

Medulfa looked away. She had forgotten that despite her feminine form, Leonbruna had something... masculine between her legs. Once they were both in the water, however, Medulfa felt comfortable and washed her hair as the heat and relaxing aromas took effect.  

"Sometimes Isengarda used to do that..." said Leonbruna as two tears ran down her cheek, "...she used to wash my hair, because even scoundrels have to be presentable. Can I wash your hair?"  

Leonbruna took another sip of wine, then began to loosen Medulfa's braids. Patiently, she soaped her hair and washed it carefully, as she would have done with her Isengarda.  

"If you don't mind, tell me a little about this Madalgarius who made you fall in love" said Leonbruna. "Give me even a few words and I will reward you with everything you want to know, and if you want to tell me nothing, I will reward you all the same."  

It was dawn when they had finished talking. They remained in the bath hall, under the curious gaze of the temple acolytes who occasionally leaned in to watch; and as the moon faded, old grudges dissolved, and it seemed as if they had never been enemies.  

The sound of the water slowly flowing into the tubs had a relaxing effect, but a vehement slap on Medulfa's back from Leonbruna was enough to break the silence.  

"And bravo to my Madalgarius! It only took him one simple evening to make a maiden fall in love," said Leonbruna.  

Medulfa omitted to mention Marfisa, and now that Leonbruna was in a good mood, she went on to make her request, but Leonbruna's gaze became a little more serious, though still light-hearted.  

"Ah! I advise you to give up those apples if you want more. I nearly lost my tail cutting the few branches Isengarda used to forge the ring Madalgarius now wears, not to mention the scolding I received from my Isengarda. It is easy to know what you Bring in that strange place. Not so easy to know what will follow you back. 

But if you just want to get to Madalgarius, I suggest you go to Maracanda. It is the smoothest passage to the fey realm of Comedarum. If Madalgarius is looking for information about the Golden Apples, he will pass by there, for it’s in this realm hidden in the valleys of the Comedarum Mountains, where you will find the last hospitable houses before the World of the Three Suns. If you should ever travel to this kingdom, do not ask to enter this world, but let them show you the way to Serica, as all merchants in search of silk do.  

Medulfa had no idea what she meant by the World of the Three Suns. In fact, among ordinary mortals, I think the only ones who might have a clue are Marfisa and Rolandus, who, if you recall, have already seen this world depicted in the Fey Cup preserved in the Imperial Palaces. But this world was obviously of no interest to Medulfa.  

All her attention was on the man who was on his way to Maracanda, and the obstacles she would have to overcome to find him before Marfisa. Medulfa's purse was crying, and there would be no silver or copper tears left before she reached the Persian border.  

"I have never seen such an empty purse," said Leonbruna.  

To which Medulfa replied: "I'll find someone to take a beautiful maiden with me," but this did not convince Leonbruna, who suddenly placed a well-filled purse of silver in her hands.  

"Oh, come now, don't make such a face! I cannot allow Madalgarius' love to pass through the hands of other men before she reaches Maracanda, can I?"  

"I don't need your pity!" said Medulfa.  

"Yes, you do!" replied Leonbruna. "And then I think it is mercy, not pity. When you're with a nerd like Isengarda, you learn something."  

"..."  

"Come now, when Fortune smiles at you, it is blasphemy to refuse. Besides, I have two... three... five... ok, I don't know how many years I am older than you, I always have trouble finding out the age of common mortals, but with all the time I've had to accumulate savings, these here are pocket change."  

"I am twenty-seven years old," said Medulfa.  

To which Leonbruna replied, not too politely: "Oh dear, now I feel young!"  

"And what does that mean?" said Medulfa testily. "We look the same age!"  

"Oh, now you make me feel even younger!" continued Medulfa.  

"What! Does! That! Mean?!"  

"Oh, no, nothing!"  

Here I must agree with Medulfa. If she were a nymph, I would give her around two hundred, two hundred and twenty years. She certainly looks a little younger than Leonbruna, but if I may give you some advice, if you see two women arguing about age, don't get involved. In fact, I would say that Medulfa can be left alone for now. She is safe now and she knows where to find her Madalgarius. She has a lovely bag of silver coins and thank goodness Leonbruna gave it to her because I felt guilty seeing her with her bag, which she emptied out of love. Damned men, and then they say it's us women who empty other people's purses out of love. 

Speaking of purses, I think it's time to move on to Astulfus and Aesara, who, if you remember well (and I hope you do, for I paid a lot of gold to get them going), had also headed east. 

They followed the tracks of Marfisa and Rolandus step by step, through Ravenna, Aquileia, Sirmium and finally Tomis, until they reached the mysterious Halymiris, where a strange woman led them to the distant city of Maracanda. 

"But where is Marfisa going?" said Aesara.  

I do not see what she must complain about. Marfisa and Rolandus rode all the way on horseback (and you know how little Rolandus loves horses), and no matter how well she talks about Phazanius, he cannot ride all day. And look at them, Aesara and Astulfus, comfortably changing horses at every rest stop and moving much faster than Marfisa. The youth of today! 

Back to serious business, they reached Scythia Metropolis towards evening. When our two heroes arrived in the city, the whole region was in an uproar. Armed men could be seen everywhere: infantrymen and horsemen, carriages and siege engines, all because Pandracon, King of Hyperborea and Alania, had started a great war against Auridans, King of Kusana. 

They were both kings of great power and prestige, and in character two gentlemen who could not have stood in the same room without measuring who had the higher crest. 

Of the first I need tell you nothing, I think you remember the fine ruckus Pandracon caused during the gladiatorial games in Rome and how he wanted to have the beautiful Marfisa. You may remember less of the second. Auridans was there at the reception for the gladiatorial games: he was chatting with Oliverius, King of Sarmatia, when Marfisa brought him the good news that I was coming to the Palace. Then he slipped away. Oh dear, Have I such a bad reputation? 

But back to us, the reason for this war was not ancient hatreds, nor jealousies of rank, nor the borders of the kingdom, nor dishonour, nor the glory of victory. It was love that had put weapons in his hands, for it had been rumoured that Marfisa was going to Maracanda and was now under the protection of Auridans, who was happy to take her as his wife. Auridans was in no hurry to deny it, for he too coveted Marfisa's hand and would not tolerate rivals. 

And it is in all this turmoil that our King of Sarmatia enters the scene, who, in order to protect Marfisa from the clutches of others (and perhaps to take her for himself), has come to the aid of his old ally, who not only had to face the threat from the north, but also had to fear from the south the intervention of Persia, whose army was led by Lycomans, King of Hyrcania, who was also said to have attentions for the beautiful Marfisa. 

Aesara did not know whether to laugh or cry, for she knew Marfisa well, and if she had known of this, she would have taken both kings and brought them to their senses with a few slaps. 

"Oh, Jupiter Optimus Maximus. I can't leave her alone for a minute that she's causes all this mess," said Aesara. 

"Oh, come on. I don't think she did it on purpose," said Astulfus. "Right? Right?!" 

Aesara did not answer, but watched as Oliverius called men from every region, near and far, and from every land. Already many thousands had taken up arms to help Marfisa; but long before the others, Oliverius, who had long been Marfisa's lover. 

He was madly in love with our damsel, but she loved him no more than a friend. This is the greatest misfortune of love, that not to be loved is not loved. But let's not talk about all this, and let's concentrate on King Oliverius as his people gather. He was already deep in thought when Aesara and Astulfus approached the camp, asking here and there for news of Marfisa.   

Oliverius, who I hope you will remember was not a man but a siren, was as magnificent as ever: the feathers of his wings, tail and those that ruffled the hair on his head were painted white and green. He wore an elegant armour of gold scales, strong but light, for it was more important for him to be able to float in the air than to be over-protected. His two sons, Aquilans and Gryphon, were not with him, nor would they, as their father, didn’t want them to be with him on such a dangerous venture. With him, however, was his horse, among the best in Sarmatia. Iuba had for a name and was ready to engage in any battle. 

Astulfus came forward, much admired by Oliverius, who thought him the flower of any maiden, so graceful did he appear to him. Aesara was already holding back a laugh, unsure whether to reveal the misunderstanding to Oliverius.  

Said Oliverius: "Pretty ladies, what brings you to such a place?"   

Astulfus replied: "Like you, we seek Marfisa, as friends of hers, both old and new. We ask nothing more than to be allowed to accompany you, so that we may be sure that no harm will come to her. 

"Your undertaking is noble, but taking two young maidens to war is not something I can do," said Oliverius. "It would be a disgrace to my honour if anything bad were to happen to you." 

You can imagine how little Astulfus liked being mistaken for a woman... again. Not to blame Oliverius, Astulfus looks feminine and pretty, but come on, you can see he has narrow hips and broad shoulders; maybe not well, but you can see it... more or less. Astulfus stood his ground and picked up his spear and challenged the king to a duel. 

My lords, I sincerely hope I don't have to tell you how stupid it is to challenge a king to a duel in front of his army. Luckily, everyone thought Astulfus was a lady, otherwise they would have thrown him out, but since everyone was laughing and joking, why not challenge this damsel to a duel? 

With a loud voice Oliverius spurred on the horse and shouted, "Whose lady is it, take her away, for if not she will be hurt, since she does not seem to want to leave on her own. You know, little girl, that if anyone tests my person or my valour, it leaves me no choice but to be serious and not hold back, even in front of a lady." 

"You are not a king, but a coward..." said the foolish but good-hearted Astulfus, "...for you are on horseback, I am on foot, and you boast of your person and valour. And anyway, before you conquer a maiden, you had better learn education; for maidens are conquered with flowers and poems, not with spears and swords, especially such a gentle lady as Marfisa; and if I knock you down, you will learn the lesson the hard way. Take this little honour of yours and leave this place full of thoughts. 

Aesara raised her hand to her face. Not that she didn't appreciate Astulfus' attempt to defend Marfisa, but there were different ways, and Astulfus was in danger of learning that the hard way. 
"Well, we'll do it your way..." said the king of Sarmatia, "...if you win, I'll give you one of my horses so you can find Marfisa before anyone else, but if you don't you will turn around and leave this place..." 

Astulfus mounted the horse lent to him by the king of Sarmatia. It was then that he removed his wolf-shaped helmet from his pack, and the people noticed that under his light robe he wore a heavy armour, but still no one feared him, for no one knew the virtues of his fey spear. 

They moved with much fury: one thought he was better than the other, and with a great storm they went to wound. It was Oliverius who flew from his saddle, but not for the reason you think. Our king of Sarmatia leapt high, spread his wings and fought like the siren horsemen of Sarmatia: he descended from above on the enemy, striking with his boots armed with sharp claws. 

But it was Oliverius who fell in pain, for as he approached Astulfus’ spear he felt it pierce his heart, and this fatal distraction caused him to be hit and fall to the ground. 

"Have you ever heard a more pleasant story..." said Astulfus, "...of this king on horseback who thought he was going to take me off this saddle, and that he had better go on foot?" 

Thus he spoke until Aesara mounted and ordered him to gallop beyond reason: "You will appreciate what you have done, and I thank you for the horse you have provided us..." said Aesara, "...but now run, run, because the Sarmatians don't seem to appreciate too." 

And so they headed east, beyond the Tanais River, and not without a good result, as there are no resting stations beyond the Scythia Metropolis, and when travelling alone it is good to have a mount. Let's hope that the next adventure won't be solved by Astulfus with the same luck.