Chapter 39 Chapter Thirty-eight

The flight from Istanbul to Budapest on Friday was far from full.After we sat down, we found that we were surrounded by Turkish businessmen in black suits and Hungarian officials in gray clothes. I only regretted not getting on the train. Along the way, from the Islamic world to the Christian world, from the Turks to the Austro-Hungarians, from Muslims to Catholics and Protestants, the transitions held a great mystery for me.Slowly, you come to believe that you can read history in nature.On the plane, I saw thousands of scenes below, but I didn't know where they were, and I didn't know what state of mind they would evoke in me in the future, and I felt deeply regretful.My first impression of Budapest comes from the window of a taxi from the airport, and it is all-pervasive nobility.After a while, we saw the Danube.Its grandeur exceeded my expectations. On the other side of the river is a large forest, surrounded by royal palaces and medieval spiers, casting unpredictable colors on the river.

Helen was watching too, and after a while she turned to look at me. Excitement must have been written on my face, Helen burst out laughing, "It seems you like our little town," she said.She added in a low voice, "Dracula is part of us—did you know that he was arrested by Matthias Cole in 1462 for threatening Hungarian interests in Transylvania?" King Venus was imprisoned twenty miles from Buda. Corvinus evidently treated him less as a prisoner than as a guest, and even chose a wife for him from the Hungarian royal family. Ra's second wife, but no one knows who she is."

"I think I can imagine it," I said, "and he goes straight back to Wallachia, takes the throne as soon as possible, and renounces his faith." "Basically true," she admitted. "You have grown to feel for our friend. What he wants above all is to claim and keep his throne in Wallachia." Soon, the car left the river and went back to the old town of Pest, but there were more wonders here that made me dumbfounded: the coffee house in the lobby was modeled on the grandeur of Egypt or the Assyrian kingdom, and the pedestrian street was crowded with vibrant people. shoppers, iron street lamps, mosaics and statues, marble and bronze statues of angels and saints, kings and emperors, fiddlers in white tunics playing on street corners.

"Here we are," said Helen suddenly. " I stretched my neck and saw an exquisite yellowstone classical building, "This is our hotel, just outside Magyar Street." The driver pulled up in front of a graystone building with an elegant and dignified facade.He took out our bags and I helped Helen out of the car. "You will especially like the cold dishes or cold water here, and the crude food." Helen picked out a large silver coin and some small copper coins to pay the fare. "I think Hungarian food is very good," I reassure her. Helen gave me a blank look, "When you talk about Hungary, people will always mention goulash. Just like when you talk about Transylvania, everyone will talk about Dracula." She laughed.

The lobby of the hotel is quiet.After Helen registered, she handed me the room key. I was disappointed that her aunt didn't intend to take us to her home to try Hungarian food and see life in the bureaucratic elite.But I immediately reminded myself that I was lucky enough to be here, and my worst fear was to cause problems for Helen or her family. Helen's room was not on the same floor as mine - was it her aunt's foresight? — but at least I have these old-fashioned cherubs and Austro-Hungarian wreaths for company. Helen was waiting for me in the lobby, and she led me silently through the hotel door and out onto the street.We walked to the university; she was lost in thought.

I didn't dare to ask her what she was thinking, but after a while, she told me herself, "It's weird to come back here suddenly," she said and glanced at me. "And with a weird American?" "With a weird American," she murmured.That doesn't sound like a compliment to me. The university's buildings are impressive, and as Helen points to our destination, I begin to feel apprehensive.This is the classical hall, and there are sculptures on the second floor adjacent to it.I stopped and looked up at the statue. "Who are they?" I asked Helen.

"I'll tell you tomorrow," she said. "Come on, it's past five." We entered the hall with a few energetic young men, and it was full of professors, all of them historians, and although I was supposed to be one of them, my heart sank rapidly. Helen is doing a comradely handshake with a man.The man's hair was combed back, reminding me of some kind of dog. I decided to pretend to go to the window to see the magnificent front view of the church opposite, when Helen tugged at my elbow-was this a wise move? —turned me back into the crowd. “This is Professor Sandow, head of the history department at the University of Budapest, our greatest expert on the Middle Ages,” she told me.

Professor Sandow said that he was very honored that I came to attend the meeting.It occurred to me that he might be a friend of the mysterious aunt. I said that it is a great honor to have the opportunity to speak at the meeting.I was careful not to look at Helen as I spoke. "Very good," Professor Sandow said in a low voice, "We respect the universities in your country very much. I hope our two countries will live in peace and friendship forever." His large dark eyes gleamed in his aging face and contrasted oddly with his long hair, reminding me instantly of Helen.I suddenly fell in love with him.

"Thank you, Professor," I said sincerely. I turned to a Hungarian teacher: "There are always meetings like this here, right?" I didn't know what I meant, but I had to find something to say. "Yes," my partner replied proudly.He is a small man, about sixty years old, wearing a gray shirt and tie. "We hold a lot of international conferences in the school, especially now." I want to ask him what it means especially now. But Professor Sandow reappeared, and he led me to a handsome man who seemed eager to get acquainted with me. "This is Professor Gazel Joseph," he told me.

'I understand that your field of study is the Turks' domination of the Carpathians? ’ said Professor Gazzo Joseph. "Here, news travels really fast!" "Ah, yes," I agreed. "I have done some research on this myself, and I would be very glad to discuss it with you." "Professor Joseph's interests are very broad," interjected Helen. Puzzled by her tone of voice, which could turn hot water into ice, Helen turned to me suddenly. "Professor, we have a meeting ahead," she said. I was stunned for a moment, not knowing who she was talking to, but she firmly took my arm.

"What's going on here?" The night air is very clear, I have never been so refreshed, "Your compatriots are the friendliest people I have ever met, but I have an impression that you want to kill Professor Joseph head." "Yes," she said at once, "he's a pain in the ass." "It must be unbearable," I pointed out, "Why did you treat him like this?" "Oh, there's nothing wrong with him, really, except he's a carnivorous eagle. A vampire, actually." She stopped abruptly and stared at me, eyes wide. "I didn't mean—" "Of course not," I said, "I've had a good look at his canines." "You're too much to bear," she said, pulling her hand away. I looked at her regretfully, "I don't care if you hold me," I said softly, "but is it okay to do it in front of the whole school?" She stared at me, and I couldn't read the melancholy in her eyes: "Don't worry, there's no one from the anthropology department." "Helen," I groaned, "can you just be serious for once? I'm just worried about your reputation here—your political reputation. After all, you're going to come back here one day and face all these people." "Do I have to come back?" She took my hand again, and we continued walking. "Anyway, it's worth it. I just want Gezo to gnash his teeth. Pointy teeth." "Well, thanks," I muttered.If she was going to make anyone jealous of her, it certainly worked out for me.Helen's expression didn't allow me to ask any more questions, so I could only content myself with feeling her heavy arms. Time flew by and we quickly turned through the hotel's gleaming doors and into the silent lobby. As soon as we entered, a lone figure stood up from the black high-backed chair and potted palm trees and waited silently for us to approach. Helen let out a low cry, opened her hands, and ran forward, "Eva!"