CHAPTER TWO
THE CITY OF TLAMCO—ITS TEMPLES AND MARKETPLACES
The favorite breathing-place of the San Francisco of to-day is the site of what was once the Llama city, Tlamco, stretching from the Panhandle entrance at Golden Gate Park to the beach at the Cliff House rocks. It was a city of seven hills, marking the orbits and the diameters of the planets, Mercury, Venus, Mars, Jupiter, Saturn, Uranus and Neptune, as well as forming a map of the Pleiades.
This ancient abode of the Atlantian colonists in California was laid out in circles, with a large temple in the center, near the east end of Golden Gate Park at the inter-section of Haight and Shrader Streets. From this point were twelve radiating streets, intersected by four principal avenues, constructed on the cardinal points of the compass.
The one to the east led to Park Hill, which was terraced up to Mount Olympus on the south, and continued on to the East Temple fortress.
The western avenue led through the center of the park proper to Round Top, or Strawberry Hill, now ornamented with an artificial waterfall and an encircling lake. This hill is a natural rock, upon which was constructed the Temple of Neptune.
The corresponding thoroughfare on the north led to the Observatory and main fortress on Lone Mountain. These roadways were crowned with fine sand, still found in abundance in the dunes in the immediate vicinity.
There were tall three-faced obelisks of dark-red sandstone at the outside limits of the streets, while the inner terminals were marked by corresponding pillars of marble, similarly decorated. Single and double cross-bars at the top of each of these were hung with huge beaten-brass lanterns.
It was these statue obelisks, twelve in number, representing Mercury in the twelve hours, which gave the name of Tlamco to the city. The cognomen signified Wisdom.
These columns had three faces which literally pointed the way. The countenance on the right was that of a bearded old man; the middle face a laughing, sinister one, while that on the left was of a youth looking dreamily out into the distance. The shafts were placed so that the young sun-god faced the orb rising in the east, symbolical of the future; the center denoted the present, and reflected the sun at mid-day, while the old man fronted the west. Sunset typified Saturn, the Father Time of to-day.
The figures were armless, and their legs and feet were incased in iron coffins set on square bases of black basalt. The obelisks proper were tapering, and at the points were covered with white enamel. The lamps hanging from the cross-bars were furnished with opalescent glass globes, and on the apex of the obelisks were balls of the same material radiating the light in myriad rainbow colorings. Cut deep in the basaltic base was the inscription:—
I AM THE WAY, THE TRUTH, AND THE LIFE
which is a Gnostic interpretation of redemption, and at that time had reference to the course of the sun. The Way was Horus, the ray of wisdom shining through the darkness; the old man was Truth, or experience; while the center was Life, or the Light-Giver. The iron coffin was the belt of Orion and had reference to the death of the material world.
Esoterically, the belt of Orion is the band of causation, to loosen which, and to free ourselves from its influence, solves the riddle of life itself.
In the center of the city was the Temple of the Sun with twelve sides and four main entrances which overlooked the avenues. Its minarets and domes were tipped with gold. There was a dome over each doorway, and a larger one in the center, which terminated in a truncated spire. Under this was a circular hall surmounting twelve arches, resting on an equal number of pillars which represented the astral giants holding up and guarding the Cosmos.
The capital of each pillar was carved into the semblance of the face of a young virgin with an inscrutably mystic expression. On her head was a monster serpent biting the tail of another on the right. The bodies of the serpents ran in wavy lines around the recesses at the back of the arches, where the head in turn held in its mouth the tail of the preceding one, forming a long meander around the hall. On them, and commencing at the northeast corner, was inscribed a hymn to the Cosmic Virgin:—
O thou who in thine incomparable beauty risest from the deep!
Thou who dwellest in all form, and givest life to all emanations!
Thou, Everta, who ridest on the whirlwind!
Gird thy children with the armor of justice.
SOUTH.
Thou who at thy rising doth manifest the splendor of truth,
And at thy meridian causest the fruit of the earth to ripen in its season,
Give, O Horo! at thy setting, peace to all thy children.
WEST.
Thou who dwellest in the manifest and the invisible,
And makest one the astral deep and the mountain of substance,
Grant, O Dama! union to the souls of thy people.
NORTH.
Thou whose sandals crush the head of malice and discord
And who dost establish on the rock of eternity thy seal of power,
Make, O Gharep! on thy right hand a dwelling for the brethren of Tlamco.
The recesses facing the cardinal points led to the four entrances; the remaining eight were curtained off, and used as civil courts. In each corner was a pair of winged mastodons, facing each other. Their outstretched wings touched and formed a sharp angle. On the breast of each mastodon was a jeweled lamp of sacred fire.
Directly under the central dome was a concave counterpart, brilliant with jeweled crystals, from the pinnacle of which was suspended a gilt ball held in place by four golden chains. The globe was a sunburst with horizontal rays. The serpent meander on the outer wall back of the recesses gave the orbit of the inter-mercurial planet Vulcan, to the same scale as the gilt ball did of the sun. Underneath the radiating globe was a porphyry disk of equal diameter, symbolic of the fire on the altar.
This central temple, typical of active life, was the scene of great public ceremonies, such as the reception of ambassadors, and there the awards for all civic honors were bestowed. The floor was a circle of radiating tiles, twelve red, alternating with an equal number of yellow. Around the center palladium were twenty-four seats for the Council of State, with the one at the south raised for the Chief.
The populace were allowed access to the building and to assent to or to disagree with the proceedings of the Council. These men, in a material sense, represented the twelve labors of Hercules. They pictured this personality of the sun as old and eloquent; and a councilor failing in proper persuasion and ability to reason was driven out. It was necessary for him to be an experienced and ready debater, because his colleagues, in groups of six, challenged his statements—one set pathetically, one in ridicule, one in denunciation and another in denial.
If the members of the Council quarreled, the sitting was adjourned at once, and no further meeting was lawful until the disputants took a solemn oath that they were reconciled. News of such an occurrence spread over the city like a flash. It was considered a great breach of decorum for a man to speak without consideration for another’s feelings, or in a loud, angry voice while in the Council Chambers.
Yermah had four advisers, who in turn sat as Chief Councilors. These were Akaza, Orondo, Setos and Alcamayn.
There were also one hundred and sixty warrior priests in his personal suite, quartered in the fortifications around Iaqua. Some of these were descendants of the pioneers who founded the city; others were there by honorable promotion for service rendered the state.
Yermah, alone, was accountable to the Grand Council of Atlantis, while Akaza was the only representative of the hierarchy. He led the white magicians out of Atlantis when black magic gained supremacy, twenty years prior, and had only returned in time to accompany Yermah on his tour of inspection through the outlying colonies.
Conforming to the general outline of the temple enclosure, but on a lower eminence, was a twelve-sided plaza which was the marketplace of Tlamco. Every street and avenue converged upon it, and it was always alive with men, women and children on traffic bent. In deep porticos facing the outer circle, were booths and bazaars where everything required by the population was for barter and exchange. Like the Temple of the Sun in the center, this beehive of industry had an outside circle describing the orbit of Mars, typical of the curious warfare which trade was to wage in later times, between man’s temporal and spiritual welfare.
Long lines of white and black horsehair reatas were carried to the top of the truncated spire on the temple, and made fast to the base of a colossal figure of Hercules, which was of madrono wood—indigenous to this locality. The wood is as hard as metal, and the statue was completely covered with fish-scales and feathered plates of solid silver so neatly put together as to appear like a casting. The face and other fleshy parts were treated to a liberal coating of oil and copal, giving them a smooth and metallic appearance.
The other end of the hair rope was fastened to one of the inner obelisks. These were novel bulletin boards; for each day’s transaction in the market was heralded by the appearance of many small colored flags flying above the particular section in active trade, or to announce the arrival of fresh supplies.
Akaza lived on Round Top, in the Temple of Neptune. The monastery, which was occupied by the highest order of initiates, was surrounded by high white walls. The temple itself was square, four stories high, and had entrances facing the cardinal points. Here were tall trees and deep solitude, away from the bustle and turmoil of traffic.
Akaza stepped into the Council Chamber on his way to the monastery after his visit to Yermah. Alcamayn, the jeweler, was presiding, and Setos, the heap of flesh, was urging the necessity for sending a deputation of merchants into the territory of the Mazamas, which extends from the Sierra Nevada and Coast Ranges of mountains on the southeast, to the confines of Behring Sea on the north and west. Mazamas signified mountain climbers and was not the name of a nation, race or tribe.
Traveling merchants in those days were not a set of pack-saddle peddlers, as they became in later times. They were a distinct guild and were allowed to carry manufactured articles which they were free to exchange for anything made or grown by another people. They went about with many attendants and were always treated with consideration, sometimes performing diplomatic service connected with trade relations and in exceptional cases acting as spies.
“The Mazamas are not of our faith. They are nature-worshipers, and must fail to achieve a high place in the affairs of this continent. They have been in rebellion against our cousins of Ian, and it is the part of prudence to look upon them with suspicion.”
“Will Setos be kind enough to state definitely what he expects to accomplish by dispatching a delegation from the guilds in his group to a friendly territory?” asked Alcamayn. “If war is the purpose, Orondo must decide; if for religious propaganda, then the hierophant, Akaza, should be here to speak.”
“I am here to speak,” declared Akaza, coming forward. “My voice is for a visit to the Mazamas, but not in the manner proposed by Setos.”
Setos flushed—hot and uncomfortable. He was not intentionally untruthful, but he could not let an opportunity pass unimproved when a keen, sharp transaction would materially benefit his section of the industrial guild.
Akaza looked straight at him and said quietly, “I will not have spies sent into the house of a friend.”
“Will the hierophant enlighten us as to his wishes?” asked Alcamayn, respectfully.
“Yermah, Orondo, Setos, Rahula, and Ildiko, with proper following, will accompany me on a friendly mission to the high-priestess, Kerœcia.”
“Are we to know the nature of this mission?” queried Setos.
“It is my wish that the high-priestess visit Tlamco. We offer our services as arbiters between her tribesmen and the government of Ian.”
“Has the time for this undertaking been decided?”
“The hour of departure has not been named, but it will be accomplished while the guild of arts is in the seat of judgment. The Dorado desires that Alcamayn serve in his stead. He will not be long absent.”
Alcamayn arose, folded his hands across his breast with the open palm turned inward, and inclined his head profoundly. There was a burst of applause, and an expression of acquiescence from the audience, which pleased Alcamayn mightily. He was a young Atlantian, not quite acclimated to Tlamco, and just beginning to exercise his prerogative as a favorite of Yermah’s foster-father, Poseidon.
Noting that it was near the noon hour, Akaza said, making the hierarchal sign of benediction:
“Have done! If Alcamayn will go with me to the Observatory, I will fix the time of our journey, also its duration, that he may be better able to devote his energy to the cause of his fellow-servants. May the sun preserve and keep us free from malice and disease—two mortal enemies of the soul.”
As one man they responded: “Haille, Akaza! Haille!”
Setos was primarily a man of stomach. With his reddish-brown cloak of coarse cloth swinging loosely from his shoulders, and shining neck-ornaments aggressively in evidence, he elbowed his way out of the building, hastening into the stalls where fresh vegetables and fruits were laid out in tempting array. Setos’s barter was for cucumbers and squashes, giving in exchange taos of tin, which he redeemed later, with bags of chalk, kalsomine and staff. He was careful to see that the custom of pelon was strictly enforced.
For each regular customer a tiny tin cylinder was hung up in the stalls, in full view, marked with the name and number. For every purchase made a bean was dropped into the cylinder, and at stated times these were removed and counted. Sixteen beans entitled the customers to a rebate in commodities.
Setos’s square jaws relaxed and his thin lips smacked with satisfaction on seeing some luscious melons. He had already selected one, bespeaking his good digestion and critical eye, when his daughter, Ildiko, the Albino, called to him:
“Thou by whom I live, Setos, the wise father, come with me to Rahula in the bazaar of sweet odors. She awaits us there.”
“What mischief hast thou been planning this fair day? Is it new raiment or a bit of candied sweets?” questioned Setos, as he followed Ildiko from the food section past piles of cotton in bales, wool, flax, and silk in the raw state, to where the manufactured articles were displayed.
She did not pause in the section devoted to dress or ornament, giving only a passing glance to the tapestries, pottery, enameled and jeweled vessels, baskets and rugs lying about in confused heaps.
“It is neither of these,” she explained as they went along. “I crave thy judgment on a new sweet coffer fashioned by Alcamayn. He ornamented it according to my direction.”
“Because that foolish man has humored an idle whim of thine, must I come to barter? Out upon both of ye!”
“Rahula is already bargaining for one of the leather pockets held in a filigree of gold. Even widows may carry these. Thou knowest that she is very strict in decorum and temple service. She says that perfumes are acceptable to the Brotherhood, and even a vestal may use them in her hair.”
Ildiko, daughter of the moon, knew how to play upon the weakness of her fellows and was well aware of her father’s predilections. “Thou hast no words of condemnation for Rahula,” she pouted.
They turned into the portico where the perfumers’ bazaars were located before Setos could answer. The young woman waited for the effect of mingled odors on a nature whose whole bent and inclinations were toward the appetites. By the time his senses were fully alive to the seductive fragrance, Rahula was speaking to him. She was past-mistress of the art of flattery.
“There is no need to commend thee to the keeping of the gods of magic, Setos. Every lineament of thy noble face bespeaks exalted favor.”
Setos was fatally weak with women. He knew it, and alternately made love to, or abused, them.
“The finger of Time has failed to touch thee,” he replied, removing his conical hat, and holding it across his stomach with both hands, “nor hast thou forgotten the offices of speech.”
Rahula, who had risen, made the usual sign of submission with her long, thin fingers. As she looked intently from father to child, she quickly discerned that Ildiko’s pink countenance was puckered into a frown.
“Has the little weaver, Ildiko, told thee of her latest success at the loom?” she asked with fine tact.
Ildiko made a motion of dissent, and laid her forefinger across her upper lip. None knew better than she that silence was impossible. It suited her evasive disposition to make mystery of the most trivial circumstance; she was in reality delighted with the sensation she was making. Many of the shop-keepers and some of the passers-by gathered to examine the roll of fine, gossamer-silk tissue, which Rahula adroitly drew out of the perfumed pocket held in her hand. Setos may be forgiven the glow of pride and satisfaction with which he surveyed the product.
At this moment Ildiko reached over and picked up the identical jeweled coffer which she had in mind when she went in search of her father. To the feminine eye her coveting was entirely justified, and when she managed to bring the dainty bauble between the silken veil and Setos’s focus of vision, he was still smiling in a pleased manner. She leaned on him affectionately, and said in a coaxing tone:
“The water-lily design set with brilliants was my idea. I got the suggestion from the pond in our garden, when the fountain left a fine spray like dewdrops in the heart of the lilies growing there. Dost thou see thy favorite rushes in the twisted lines on the mouth and handles?”
Setos could hold out no longer.
“Must I find thee a golden chain for support?” he queried, half petulantly.
History fails to record why a certain type of man always finds fault with what he knows in his soul he must do for his women-folk. Setos was troubled with that “little nearness” which has rendered the Scotch of later times famous.
“If the chief of the merchants’ guild will send some of his excellent wine of maguey in exchange, we vendors of sweet odors will be content. A chain, which we can procure from our neighbors, the artificers in gold, will be included in the purchase price.”
Setos was about to conclude the transaction, when Rahula said:
“Alcamayn has confided to me his intention of making a chain of special design, which he will present to Ildiko, with consent of Setos.”
Without further parley Setos led the way out of the stalls. When he halted, it was in front of a booth where his beloved wine of maguey was kept in abundance. There was a private entrance to the enclosure through which Setos passed, followed by the two women.
With a show of special interest, accompanied by an insinuating smile, Rahula said: “Hast thou a secret in the fabrication of this drink unknown to other makers?”
Setos shook his head in vigorous negation and continued giving his order for refreshing drinks. Ildiko preferred pulque. Rahula ordered metheglin, a spiced drink made by boiling fragments of beeswax and honey together, allowing it to ferment after it has been skimmed and clarified.
“Wilt thou hold it impertinent in me to ask thee,” continued Rahula, as soon as she could attract the attention of Setos, “to what process thou art indebted for the superior quality of thy wine of maguey?”
“It is made from the guava plant cut in the dark of the moon, but roasted and matured in the light of that orb. Care in manipulation does the rest.” Then lowering his voice and making a grimace as he winked, knowingly, he continued:
“No one suspects that my bottles are made of pliant glass and that only the covering is of goats’ skin.”
Standing with faces toward the east, they bowed their heads reverently; without a word they drank, not heartily, but in moderate sips. When they had swallowed the third mouthful, they resumed their seats. The women nibbled at honey-cakes and salted nuts, while Setos rolled a cigarette. Before lighting it, he said:
“Akaza, the hierophant, announced in the Council Chamber at meridian that a visit of state is soon to be made to the high-priestess, Kerœcia. Thou art to be my companions to the Yo-Semite, where the Monbas tribes are at the festival of renewal.”
“Must we countenance the rites of these childish worshipers of the four elements?” demanded Rahula. Intolerance was one of the bonds of sympathy between them.
“I raised that question in Council, but Akaza vouchsafed no decided answer.”
Both were silent for a moment, busy with the same train of thought.
“Oh, that we had some of the flying vehicles of thy invention in Atlantis! We could then make the journey without hardship or fatigue,” said Ildiko. Setos and Rahula quickly exchanged a meaning look, then cast furtive glances about to see if Ildiko had been overheard.
“Let us go hence,” said Setos, irritably. “Speech is the pale, silvery reflection of the moon, my daughter, while silence is the golden rays of the sun and the wisdom of the gods. I charge thee keep a closer watch over thy tongue. It is an unruly member and performs the same office as a two-edged sword.”
When it came time to separate, Setos said: “Akaza leads us. Yermah and Orondo go also; while Alcamayn remains and serves in our stead. I do not doubt the loyalty of our new subjects; but Yermah seems to find it prudent to leave some of his own countrymen at the helm.”
He spoke in a dissatisfied way—the reflex of his own mind. It is impossible for the best of us to see beyond the reflection of ourselves; so, Setos attributed to Yermah motives which would have actuated himself in a similar situation.
Rahula, the fish-goddess, speculated on her way home as to how much Ildiko really knew of the reasons which impelled her father to leave Atlantis. She shrewdly guessed that his presence in the camp of the white magicians was a matter of expediency rather than conviction, but valued her position as companion and confidante of Ildiko too highly to jeopardize it by an injudicious question.
Rahula was content to let matters shape themselves. Her ambitions found satisfaction in the encouragement Ildiko gave Alcamayn. She was a born matchmaker and intrigante and knew that Ildiko was the apple of her father’s eye despite his petulancy and parsimony. Setos was a man of ardent love-nature whose affections had not all been buried with his wife. Rahula’s gray hair and parchment skin did not let all hope die within her.