So, dear readers, we left off when our beautiful swan decided to set a nice trap for our dear fox to make him lower his tail. And to return to our dear Marfisa, she was still astride Madalgarius.  

Pretending to be red-faced and her eyes as demure and shy as possible, she brought her face close to his and said: "Well, if you really like me, then I can give you a date..." she said in a manner that resembled that of a maiden in love: "...but I can't go out with anyone who hasn't first won me over by surpassing me in skill or bravery. People might say I've fallen in love, and even if that were true, I wouldn't stand for it. 

Let's do this: let's race around the Palatine Hill, following the route taken by the priests of Faunus Lupercus during the Lupercal Festival. If you win, you can be my fiancé for a day and a night; but if you lose, I want to know where, how and why you got this ring, which seems to be of fey origin.  

I am also willing to give you a few yards of advantage, but you must swear to me that if you lose, you will tell me everything you know."  

Madalgarius looked into her eyes. He understood that there was a catch, but he agreed to swear. And indeed there was a catch: on a distant summer's day, on the plain that lay near the city of Lugdunum, Marfisa had caught a doe with her bare hands, and many other animals that are not worth telling. So Marfisa had little to fear, for she doubted that Madalgarius could accomplish such a feat. 

However, Madalgarius did make one request: that he be allowed to change first, for what she was wearing was not suitable for the race, and she wished the challenge to be fair and just. Marfisa did not refuse, not least because she could not run with the pallium on. The fairer the challenge, the less Madalgarius could complain after the inevitable defeat. 

"By the way, since we're in the mood for fun, why don't we wear the armour we use for gladiatorial games? That way, no one will be able to say that they had the advantage in dress," said Marfisa, this time in a tone that was sincere and without any entanglement. 

Madalgarius looked her up and down and said, "Well! I have seen you in the dress of the intellectuals, let me see you in the dress of the champions." 

Marfisa was the first to reach the entrance to the Lupercal Cave, dressed in full gladiatorial gear: a linen gambeson under a hauberk of fine iron rings. Over this was an elegant black robe in the shape of a swan, more for show than practical use. On her shoulders she wore a padded hood and a helmet whose bristles on the sides resembled the wings of a black swan. 

To his right, completely asymmetrically, hung a long dark cloak. Her trousers and military boots were also dark. To the left, hidden by the cloak, hung a long Celtic sword, the hook-shaped hilt of which resembled the neck of a swan. On her right was a dagger, the blade of which split into three parts thanks to a snap mechanism. 

She was beautiful to look at and became even more beautiful as she lay down on the grass at the entrance to the Lupercal, surrounded by the oaks that shrouded the entrance to the cave.  

She closed her eyes and enjoyed a deep rest. She waited so long that for a moment she thought Madalgarius had given up, but that hope was dashed when she saw him return in armour. 

He, too, wore a linen gambeson under a hauberk of thin iron rings. Over it was an elegant red dress, trimmed with fur that resembled the thick hair of a fox. The cloak, however, covered both shoulders and was designed to glide smoothly over them so as not to get in the way. The trousers were vermillion, and the military boots were chestnut. He also wore a padded hood around his neck and a helmet that resembled a fox in shape and bristles. 

He was carrying the romphaia, which he balanced on his shoulder, holding it still with two fingers of his right hand, while his left hand was busy holding the bag, I had given him. 

Marfisa noticed it immediately, even though her mind was immediately diverted by Madalgarius' good looks, and Madalgarius was no less pleased to see her. They both blushed as their eyes met. 

"Well, here... let's get started," said Marfisa. 

She took the helmet off her shoulders and tucked it under her arm so it would not sway on her back as she walked. Madalgarius did the same but poured the contents of the bag into it. 

Marfisa could not make out the contents, although she thought she saw a golden glint. Well, it doesn't matter, Marfisa thought, it's nothing that can hurt me as long as I'm the fastest, but as she thought those words, she couldn't help but feel a shiver run down her spine. It was my bag. The one I had, entering the imperial palaces: the green-haired witch's bag. 

Madalgarius took off, and Marfisa let him go ahead to tease him; then she sprinted to catch up.  

This seemed to be going well, and there seemed to be no trick or deception involved, when suddenly something rolled out of Madalgarius' helmet, perhaps falling out due to the many bumps. It bounced a few times and then rolled towards Marfisa. It was a golden apple: shiny and reddish. 

Marfisa's first thought was to ignore the golden apple, but everything changed when she realised, to her amazement, that the round object that had bounced in front of her eyes was not a simple work of goldsmith's art.  

Its tawny colour was of a pleasantness that only gold could give. It was so vivid that it stood out from its surroundings. The shape was so realistic that only a real tree could have produced such a figure. No less suspicious was the sharpness of the colour, which did not seem to be affected by the low light of the night. 

Marfisa gave up running and picked up the golden apple with curiosity and eagerness, not only because such a beautiful metal had the property of distracting most men from all other thoughts, but also because Marfisa's own soul was enchanted by this mysterious apple, which looked like the fey objects sometimes found in the forest of Hercynia. 

She tried to pick it up, but it was so smooth and round that she had great difficulty in holding it. Once she had it in her hands, however, she immediately realised that she had a treasure far more valuable than the gold alloy the apple was made of. It was similar, too similar to the ring Madalgarius wore on his finger and to the treasures said to be found in the forest of Hercynia.   

Marfisa's curiosity grew. She tucked the apple into her helmet and set off again. She reached Madalgarius, who promptly threw the second apple, which Marfisa, running forward, tried to catch without stopping. This apple, however, was treacherous and deceptive, and as it slipped through her fingers, Marfisa lost precious time, so much so that she was barely able to reach Madalgarius again.   

She was close to him, and close was the end of this long and arduous race. The oaks of the Lupercal were already in sight. Marfisa said to herself: "I must not go back for any reason. I will not go back an inch. Imagine if someone could fool me with such a trick! I mustn't... I mustn't..." 

So she spoke to herself. Her heart was filled with joy as she saw the Lupercal approaching. Victory was near, and nothing could take away her hope, when that cunning and crafty fox threw a third apple from his helmet. It dazzled Marfisa so much with its splendour that even though she had no time to spare, she went back to catch it, still hoping to reach Madalgarius.   

She ran. She ran with all her might, almost catching up with Madalgarius when she realised that the fox hadn't been running at full speed all the time and still had a lot of energy left. Madalgarius sprinted forward, leaving an exhausted Marfisa behind, and reached the Lupercal first. 

Madalgarius reached the oaks that surrounded Lupercal's cave. He was panting, and honestly, he had expected running in armour to be a worse experience. So close to his skin, the hauberk made his weight feel less; but what mattered most was that he had undoubtedly arrived first. 

He was pleased that the fox had outwitted the swan who had tried to trick him, even if he had had a little help from my apples. You can imagine instead how Marfisa was cursing. 

"You damned fox! You tricked me!" protested Marfisa, to which Madalgarius replied with a chuckle: "Oh, what colourful language. Look, no one forced you to pick the apples. But if it really bothers you so much, I won't force you to go on a romantic date with me if you don't want to". 

Marfisa huffed and crossed her arms. A promise was a promise, and she was too proud to go back on her word; but that did not mean she would give in to Madalgarius so easily.  

In fact, in the hope of retaliation, she made the following proposal: "Very well. Take me anywhere you like, but on one condition. It must be a place neither romantic nor vulgar, neither cold nor passionate.  A place worthy of a couple, but where no one would take his girlfriend. I really want to see if you can surprise me. If not, you will have to tell me where you got these three apples," said Marfisa, tipping the three apples into Madalgarius' helmet. 

"You won't make it easy for me," said Madalgarius, taking the apples back, but leaving one as a gift in Marfisa's helmet, which she put in her pocket without thinking. 

"If you really want to know, I like pasta with meat sauce," said Marfisa. 

"Yes, but a tavern seems like a trivial place to me," said Madalgarius, before becoming thoughtful. 

He pondered for a moment, then led her to the place where their romantic date would take place. 

When they arrived, Marfisa could only say two words: "A library?" she said, looking at the library of the Imperial Palaces in amazement.   

Madalgarius replied: "Well! Trajan's library will be closed by now, but we can still get in here." 

"..."  

Madalgarius laughed and said: "What? Didn't I surprise you? Didn't you want a place that would surprise you?"   

"Your point is well taken, but why a library?" insisted Marfisa, still puzzled by the chosen location. 
 
"It's neither romantic nor vulgar, neither cold nor passionate, and I think it's a good place to bring a girlfriend, although no one would do that..." explained Madalgarius, "...and besides, you seem the type to appreciate a library." 

Marfisa was stunned: there was no way to answer. And deep down... she didn't really blush, but she began to appreciate Madalgarius. 

"Very well. I'll get my lantern and keys." 

"Who knows why, but it doesn't surprise me that you have the keys to the library. It just makes you more beautiful." 

Suddenly, Marfisa was a different person: she stopped flitting from side to side in an annoyed manner and became more composed. Her eyes were fixed on Madalgarius, and her ears paid more attention to his words. This man had suddenly become... more attractive.   

Marfisa continued to watch him, pretending not to look, but the more she looked at him out of the corner of her eye, the more she realised that he was indeed a very cute man.  

She continued to pretend not to look at him until Madalgarius invited her into the library. Marfisa looked at the building. Or rather, both buildings, for the library was divided into two sections, located on opposite sides of the courtyard: one Greek and the other Latin.   

"So... Greek or Latin section? Which do you prefer?" said Marfisa, to which Madalgarius replied: "One is worth the other to me, I can read in both languages..." he said with a smile and a bow, "...but since you are my girlfriend for one night, choose the one you like best. Or if you think it is silly to be a tourist in a library, I know there are numerous corridors in the palaces filled with wonderful artefacts, paintings and statues."   

As Madalgarius spoke to her in this way, Marfisa began to feel something bubbling in her chest. They entered the Latin section and Marfisa found herself inundated with book covers, like a queen inundated with precious jewels. She whirled around between the smell of the paper and the beauty of the building, which caught the eye of everyone who entered.   

The library resembled Trajan's Library in the Imperial Forums: it was a two-storey structure with high vaulted ceilings to take advantage of the natural light. The interior walls were divided into bays by columns set in front of pillars that framed niches containing books and scrolls. Between the columns were three steps leading to a walkway in front of the bookcases.   

At the other end of the hall were niches, one on each level, with a statue inside: one of Emperor Claudius at the bottom (instead of Emperor Trahan as in Trajan's Library) and a statue of Minerva at the top.  

The goddess was represented in ivory and gold with the appearance of a young warrior maiden. She stood upright, wearing a long robe and a chain mail on her chest decorated with the head of Medusa. On her head was a crested helmet and she was armed with a round shield and a spear.   

The niches in the walls, on the other hand, contained recessed wooden bookcases. Two of them ran the length of the library and housed the codices. The other four spanned the back wall and held the scrolls.   

The room itself was designed to be aesthetically pleasing, with desks and books on shelves, not to be seen, but to be read.  The place was a feast for the eyes, a heaven created by the gods for those hungry for knowledge like Marfisa.   

Madalgarius placed the lantern on the table in the centre of the room, while Marfisa began to hunt for books, piling them on the table. She put one down, then another, then went away to get something else. 

Who knows what books an Emperor's daughter reads? It was rude to peek. Madalgarius could not resist the temptation to investigate further. Marfisa fascinated him. How many women, of all the clothes they owned, would turn up at an imperial reception wearing the pallium? It said a lot about Marfisa's character, and he wanted to know more. 

"Historiae Alexandri Magni Macedonis de Quinto Curtio Rufo atque Res gestae Alexandri Macedonis de Flavio Iulio Valerio Alexandro Polemio, History of Alexander the Great the Macedonian by Quintus Curtius Rufus and History of Alexander the Macedonian and the Journey of Alexander by Flavius Julius Valerius Alexander Polemius..." read Madalgarius running his fingers between the pages of the two books. 

They appeared to be the original editions, or at least among the oldest, and between their pages were scattered sheets with notes in Latin or Greek. Marfisa returned a moment later, seemingly undisturbed by Madalgarius' curiosity. She had an atlas under her arm, which she opened without caring who was watching. She leafed through it lazily, stopping at the map of the Bactrian region, then went back to her notes.  

Madalgarius sat by her side, where he remained, watching Marfisa as she worked, glancing here and there at her notes. It seemed that Marfisa had left out no work, known or unknown. There were passages from authoritative figures such as Herodotus and Plutarch, as well as figures whose names Madalgarius had never heard. Despite the large number of notes, the theme was unmistakable. 

"Are you interested in the nymphs and Hercynia?" asked Madalgarius. "Are you trying to see if there is a connection between the strange rumours that Alexander the Great's soldiers collected after the conquest of Maracanda? About the strange creatures that inhabit the Comedarum Mountains? Can I help you? 

"If you like," said Marfisa. 

They began to leaf through books, sometimes reading, sometimes chatting, until seconds turned into minutes and minutes into hours. Was this the same Madalgarius she had seen resting in the shadow of Maecenas' Tower? The more she looked at him, the more Marfisa saw him as a different person. Had he always been so handsome? Or was it only now that she noticed him?  

As Madalgarius left, a sudden shiver ran through Marfisa, who could not sit still. She paced back and forth, back and forth, under the gaze of the statue of the goddess Minerva.   

"No, no, no, it can't be true. Besides, what will everyone think of me if they find me sighing like a maiden?" it was then that Marfisa realised something. "He likes me!" she said as she looked up, before her gaze went down. "Yes, but do I like him? Is it possible that I, whom all the world held in contempt, am now hanging on the lips of a man who is worth less than the least of my suitors? Alas, have I sunk so low as to be so easily won over?"   

Marfisa raised her eyes, which had grown weak and desperate, like those of a wounded swan struggling to rise in flight. She put her hand to her chest and clutched at her heart.   

"Ego aegroto et nescio quid facere; I feel sick, and I don't know what to do," said Marfisa, turning to the statue of Minerva, "Ego... dac mihi consilium, te precor, I... give me advice, please." 

Her heart was pounding, and her body was barely holding on. She brought her thumb and middle finger to her lips and gave the statue a distant kiss.   

"Are you all right?" said Madalgarius worriedly.   

"Yes, everything is fine," replied Marfisa, noticing that the lantern was running out of fuel and the moon was rising high in the sky. Has it been so long? How is that possible, Marfisa thought.  

Well, I think you readers already know the answer. Marfisa is the only one who is surprised, as she knew little about such things, but that was the least of Marfisa's problems. If it usually hurts us to wait, when we are with someone we like, a year seems like an hour, and Marfisa was beginning to discover this.   

Marfisa laughed at the thought and felt light in her soul. She had never thought that there was anyone outside her family who could compete with her in culture.   

"But what am I worried about? What am I complaining about?" said Marfisa, looking up at the sky. "Wasn't it me who complained that everyone around me was ignorant? And now that I've finally found someone like me to talk to, am I going to beg the gods? My heart is my own and I alone shall decide for whom it shall beat and when. I am the great Marfisa, there is no fear that anyone will win me as a mere maiden". 

So Marfisa smiled again, and seeing her so happy, Madalgarius said: "I see you are cheerful. May I take the opportunity to ask you a question?" 

Marfisa gave him a smile but did not answer. She had no time, for just ahead of them, against the shining moon, a figure appeared in the half-light. It was our dear Astulfus, fully armed and ready to challenge Madalgarius. 

My dear readers, I don't know if you remember, but Astulfus was the one who, at my request, had offered to challenge Madalgarius to a duel. Surely both Marfisa and Madalgarius had completely forgotten about him, so much had they enjoyed each other's company. The one who had not forgotten was Astulfus himself, who, after all the effort he had put into finding Madalgarius, did not want to give up.   

Now, my lords, I think the time has come to tell you a little more about our dear Astulfus. You must know that he was unsurpassed in beauty. He was rich in gold, but more so in civility, graceful in appearance and dress. He was so delicate in face and body that he could be mistaken for a woman. 

He had black hair pinned up like a porcupine on his forehead and a long braid at the back, tied up with a blue bow. His nails were dyed blue and the eye shadow that adorned his eyes was also blue, with lapis lazuli irises.    

His shirt, black and tight, had two straps that gave him a masculine appearance. His hips, however, were covered by a miniskirt, while two long stockings led to two small, low-heeled ankle boots.   

I don't need to tell you much about his strength: sometimes he lost, sometimes it was others who won. In all cases he came back on his feet with a smile. And it must be said that he was not badly armed. In fact, his weapons were worth a great treasure. 

Lapis lazuli and gold leaves adorned the tiara on his forehead. It was the item he was most proud of, for it was enchanted... or so he had been told by the merchants who had sold it to him for a high price. Fortunately, he had never bragged about owning a fey object and so had avoided attracting unwanted attention. Unfortunately, not only did he not notice the hoax, but he was so busy trying to figure out how to make his fey magic work that he failed to notice that the spear he was wielding was enchanted.  

Fortunately, the merchant who sold it to him, thinking he was getting a bargain, knew nothing of the weapon's virtues, except that it still looked new after so many years. But in the merchant's defence, neither did Astulfus. 

As for his wisdom, I think you understand what Astulfus is like. It is not that he is stupid (though many say so), far from it. His wisdom will have its time, it's just that... he tends to get caught up in enthusiasm. So much so that he may not have realised that I had no intention of letting him challenge Madalgarius that very night. 

Now that I think about it, perhaps it would be best if we returned to the plot and didn't further investigate our poor Astulfus, who was now standing in the middle of the entrance to the library, waiting for his challenge to be accepted.  

Madalgarius looked at Marfisa, shrugged his shoulders and stepped forward: "As you wish. Though it might be better if you go and get some armour and weapons." 

"...!" 

"You didn't notice that did you?" 

"Wait for me here, I'll get them, I'll be right back," said Astulfus and ran off so quickly that he left both Madalgarius and Marfisa stunned. 

There was a sudden silence in the room, then Marfisa said: "He's a lovely boy, isn't he?" 

Astulfus returned with such haste that he almost bumped into the wall. He would have been pawing here and there in excitement had he not been completely out of breath. 

Like Madalgarius, Astulfus wore a hauberk over a gambeson and a long blue robe lined with fur underneath, which served no other purpose than to make him look like a little wolf, to the delight of the spectators in the stands. It was meant to add a touch of elegance to the duel. In his hand he held a long spear. 

Madalgarius and Astulfus stood at a distance, as etiquette dictated: ten paces apart and they would fight to the first blood, or until surrender or flight; treacherous blows were null and void. Only skill could act as judge and jury, and to make it more interesting, Marfisa would offer a kiss to the winner.   

"Wait, what?" said Marfisa with a grim look, "I'm not even thinking about it."  

Madalgarius laughed and Astulfus looked away, whistling and pretending that he had never suggested such a thing.   

They stood face to face. Astulfus sounded the war horn in an act of defiance, as is customary, and they both took their positions. It was up to Astulfus to make the first move: a quick sprint and he charged at Madalgarius with his spear, ready to lunge. 

Now, my readers, as I have told you, Astulfus' spear was fey and of incomparable power. Anyone who saw it attack would feel a blow to their chest before the spear could touch them. A distraction that could prove fatal to any enemy.   

Unfortunately, some people have no enchantment that will hold, especially if they are as clumsy as Astulfus. No matter what the weapon was, what material it was made of, or how powerful the enchantment that forged it. As Astulfus took the last step, he stumbled and found himself with his feet up and his face down. 

"It happened, what I think it happened? Because I didn't even touch him," said Madalgarius in amazement. 

"And to say that I saw him training with that spear. He knows how to use it," said Marfisa, equally astonished, not daring to comment further.  

Astulfus did not move and lay on the ground for a minute, pondering his misfortune. Then, irritated, he said: "cruel misfortune, what have I done to you? Surely it was the ground. You cannot deny it; for if I had not slipped on it, I should have received a kiss from this fair lady. You made me fall, that's for sure, so that my opponent would win unfairly".  

Marfisa and Madalgarius took Astulfus and led him inside to the porch; but as soon as he sat down, he became immediately disconsolate. His face was so sad and sorrowful that Marfisa felt sorry for him. She did not give him a kiss on the cheek, though she was tempted to do so, but instead she began to give him advice... however little it might work with such a person. 

They remained seated on the bench as the clouds parted, revealing the starry sky all around them. Marfisa cleared her throat and said in a soft but authoritative voice: "If you can't run towards your enemy without slipping, then plant your feet firmly on the ground and let him be the one who has to come to you. 

Madalgarius smiled at seeing her so kind, and noticing her smile, Marfisa gave him a smile of her own. 

Astulfus looked at Marfisa, then at Madalgarius, then back at Marfisa and said: "I had heard that you were a polite person, but you and your boyfriend are really nice people." 

Marfisa blushed at this statement. The night turned dark and brown, and Marfisa's eyes grew darker. Her voice became aggressive and her look almost cruel. She answered the slander in this way: "Boyfriend?! Do you think there is any man who could win me? Especially one who lacks glory, daring and martial skill".   

So said Marfisa, unaware of the effect her words would have on Madalgarius, who, in the throes of love, would not be put to the side. He himself could not say why he reacted as he did. Perhaps he was offended that Marfisa did not find him worthy, or perhaps he wanted to make her happy by showing her that he was. Whatever the reason, Madalgarius rose and challenged Marfisa to a duel.   

The moon was still partially covered by clouds as they took their positions. In an act of defiance, Madalgarius stood in the centre of the courtyard. Marfisa was not to be outdone, for it was not like her to run away from a duel. No one, absolutely no one, was ever to say that she could be conquered by any man as a mere maiden, she would never accept that. 

And so, they both took their positions, never imagining how this duel would begin all their vicissitudes and adventures.