Voyage of the Snake Lady

by Theresa Tomlinson

  Phoebe was more cautious. “But do they wish to be friends?” she asked.

  They set up their tent and made a roped corral for the horses, more to mark them as their property than to keep them from straying. They built a small fire and ate some of the flat bread, smoked fish, and goat’s cheese that they had managed to buy the day before. Nobody came near them, but the old woman and the young girl continued to watch them warily. Though Myrina kept glancing in their direction, she saw no sign of the cave dwellers eating their own evening meal.

  “No dancing tonight,” Myrina told the girls. They both nodded, understanding that they’d be wise not to draw attention to themselves.

  Myrina quashed the urge to take some sort of urgent action, for good sense told her that what she needed first was information. She needed to hear the latest gossip—to know what was going on in the place. But as nobody seemed to want to come anywhere near them, she realized that gathering information was going to be difficult.

  She glanced thoughtfully over toward the cave mouth and at last she smiled at Tamsin. “I think you had the right idea, Little Lizard—let’s go and see if we can make friends. Let’s take the cave dwellers a bit of bread and cheese.”

  Tamsin rose to her feet with confidence. She was excellent at making friends; she’d had the Sinta girls and boys eating out of the palm of her hand in minutes. Phoebe also got up, giving Myrina a nervous smile. “I’m sure you are right, Snake Lady, but they do not look the most welcoming of strangers.”

  Myrina nodded and touched her shoulder. “It’s good to be wary, Young Tiger.”

  They walked over toward the two women, Tamsin marching boldly ahead, but the older woman got up and, with a swift angry glance at the intruders, slid back into the dark shadowy interior of the cave mouth.

  Myrina and Phoebe stopped for a moment, disconcerted, but Tamsin strode on, determinedly holding out a hunk of bread and cheese. She shouted out loud in the Sinta tongue that she’d been learning all winter. “For you! This food is for you!”

  The cave girl leaped quickly to her feet, heading for the darkness as though she would follow the old woman inside, but when she saw the flat bread she hesitated, paused, and licked her lips. She seemed to understand Tamsin’s invitation and there was no doubt that she wanted the food.

  “For you!” Tamsin cried again.

  The cave girl took a nervous step toward them. It seemed that Tamsin’s instincts were working well, for the girl snatched the bread and began to eat it hungrily.

  Myrina caught Phoebe by the arm and pulled her down to sit on the grass beside her at a little distance, making it clear that they did not wish to intrude further.

  The girl, too, dropped to her haunches, whimpering a little as she continued to eat hungrily. Tamsin stood over her, hands on hips, a huge smile of triumph on her face. She insisted on making encouraging noises as the girl ate, patting her belly and smacking her lips, using the Scythian words that she’d learned from her Sinta friends. “Good food, eh! Fill up the belly! You are welcome!”

  The girl ate like a savage animal, but every now and then she nodded at them, making her gratitude clear. When at last she’d finished eating she dusted down her clothes with surprising delicacy, then turning to them she spoke in the Scythian language. “I thank you,” she said, her voice surprisingly clear and refined.

  “Ha!” Tamsin turned to her mother with delight. “I knew we could make friends!”

  “You were very hungry.” Myrina spoke to the girl with warm sympathy as she and Phoebe at last moved a little closer. “Here is more food for the old one,” she said, putting another small parcel of bread and cheese down on the rock. Now they could see that the girl was dressed in clothes that had once been beautiful, but were fast becoming filthy rags. Her legs were bruised and covered in sores.

  Then suddenly Phoebe moved forward, smiling and clicking her fingers. She pointed to a worn set of silver finger cymbals that dangled from the girl’s belt. The girl looked puzzled, but Phoebe raised her hands above her head as though she were dancing, clicking her fingers in a fast rhythm and twirling.

  “Ahh!” Myrina saw the cymbals and understood. “She is a dancer!”

  “A dancer, like us!” Tamsin turned to Myrina with surprise. “You were wrong about that, Snake Mother; we should have danced tonight.”

  Without another word Tamsin and Phoebe launched themselves into one of the energetic horse dances that they knew so well, full of stamping feet and tossing heads.

  The girl’s mouth dropped open in surprise, but she recovered quickly, pulling the finger cymbals from her belt. She set them clattering at once in time to the rhythm that the girls had set; their bell-like tone was true, even though they looked very old and battered.

  In an instant she was dancing with them, her own feet stamping in time with theirs. She copied each movement that they made, instinctively knowing which way they would turn next. Myrina laughed with pleasure and began a steady clap to accompany them. She thought she saw a movement in the dark recesses of the cave and felt sure that the old woman was watching them. How could she not be?

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  Katya

  MYRINA WATCHED THE three girls dance together with enjoyment. Perhaps this place was not as sinister as she had feared. When at last they all flopped down onto the rocks, laughing and exhausted, she touched the girl by the arm. “You are a fine dancer,” she said. “What is your name?”

  “I am . . . Katya,” she told them, still gasping a little after the exertion. “Once . . . I danced in the temple for the great Moon Goddess Artemis, but nobody wants my dancing now—no coins and no food.”

  “The temple of Artemis,” Myrina murmured thoughtfully. She felt sure that it must be the strange ornate building they had seen perched up on the cliff tops.

  But the girl suddenly frowned and her mouth twisted up in anger. “My grandmother and I sit here and starve . . . and it is all the fault of Hepsuash, the girl from the sea.”

  Myrina was at once alert. This was surely the name that Kuspada had used when he spoke of the new priestess at Tauris, the one he thought might be Iphigenia.

  She put out a gentle hand to hush Tamsin and warn her to be careful. “Who is this . . . girl from the sea?” she asked Katya gently. “And how has she injured you?”

  Katya’s lip curled with fury, and Myrina feared that she had asked too much.

  “Hepsuash!” Katya spat the strange name out with such forceful contempt that Myrina’s sense of unease came back a hundredfold. “She was washed ashore,” the girl went on, her resentment clear in every word, “clinging to a statue of Artemis. A bedraggled fish she was, a skinny, slimy eel!”

  Phoebe sat still and tense, worried by the hostility that had suddenly surfaced. Tamsin looked as though she’d like to speak but heeded her mother’s warning.

  Myrina bit her lip as she listened, troubled by the girl’s vehemence, but at least she was getting the information she needed. “But . . . how has this Hepsuash injured you so sorely?”

  The girl looked surprised. “You must be strangers here,” she said, scowling at them, full of suspicion now.

  Myrina hesitated, unsure whether to admit that they were strangers or not. But the girl’s expression quickly changed again as she looked down and saw the neat parcel of food that they had set on the rock for the old woman. It served to remind her that, strangers or not, they had fed her and left more food for her grandmother.

  Even Tamsin sat very still and quiet now.

  “Well, I suppose you cannot help being strangers,” Katya murmured, softening a little. “I will tell you what Hepsuash has done,” she continued in a more friendly tone. “My grandmother is Nonya. She was the great priestess of Artemis.” She inclined her head slightly toward the cave mouth, and Myrina again had the uncomfortable sensation of movement in the darkness behind them. The old woman must be listening to what was being said.

  “My mother, Solya, was to take her place when Grandmother w
ent to join the goddess in the sky. I was to follow in my turn. All three of us lived in the temple and we were the three most respected women in the whole of Tauris.”

  “Aah.” Myrina nodded with some sympathy. She began to understand the ragged gown that had once been so fine and the dainty, confident way of speaking.

  “What happened?” Tamsin could not hold back her curiosity.

  “The Taurians are so stupid!” Katya’s anger came flooding back. “They found that slimy fish on the beach and instead of sacrificing her as they should have done, they all fell in love with her little flower face!”

  Myrina glared at Tamsin again, warning her to stay silent.

  “Well,” Katya said, “they insisted that her arrival with the statue must be a message from the goddess herself. And when Thoas set eyes on her, he became just as besotted with her as those who had found her on the beach. They set up the statue on a great plinth, and Thoas insisted that Hepsuash be made high priestess. They carried her up to the temple and set her there in Grandmother’s place, while we were cast out!”

  “That was unjust!” Phoebe spoke low, trying hard to be fair and finding a little sympathy in her heart.

  “Yes, it was,” Tamsin agreed heartily.

  “Why do you care?” Katya asked, puzzled by their sympathy. “Nobody else cares! When Grandmother refused to leave the temple, the king sent his guards to remove us. Once outside the temple gates the people turned on us. They stoned us in the streets! Mother died.”

  Both Tamsin and Phoebe gasped at that, and Myrina sighed heavily, understanding the anger at last.

  Katya ignored their concern. “Grandmother and I fled to this cave,” she said. “Now we live here and we have nothing. Grandmother sends me into the city to dance for coins. To dance for our food. But I am lucky if they do not pelt me.”

  Phoebe’s eyes were bright with tears. “I am truly sorry for you,” she said. “I lost my mother when I was young—too young to even remember it—and we all know what it is to be treated badly, for we were once taken as slaves.”

  Katya looked at her with new interest, touched by her words.

  “How do you manage to survive?” Myrina asked. She could see many difficulties in this situation.

  “Sometimes people forget who I am— who I was,” Katya corrected herself. “And they may throw me a coin or two, but others throw stones and curse me so that I have to run.”

  “Poor girl,” Myrina murmured. “What a way to live.”

  “Huh! I will not be a poor girl for long!” Katya gave a sudden sneer. “Grandmother knows things that nobody else knows . . . she has her secrets and she will see Hepsuash back in the sea, even though the king now swears that he will marry her.”

  “He wishes to marry her?” This was a shock to Myrina, but almost at once she remembered the richly dressed young man speaking to Iphigenia in her mirror vision. Yes, this began to make sense. Was that why she had seen Iphigenia shaking her head at him?

  Tamsin and Phoebe were looking anxiously at Myrina, aware that this was not quite what the Snake Lady had expected.

  Katya smiled nastily. “The foolish milk face refuses him, but whether she marries him or not is naught to us. By the time my grandmother has finished with Hepsuash she will be nothing but fish food!”

  Myrina’s stomach turned over with apprehension. Katya’s revelations told her for certain that Iphigenia stood in great danger—and not only from King Thoas or the Taurians. While she must feel sorry for the plight of the deposed priestesses, she also feared the vicious poison of their anger. She must find out if this Hepsuash really was Iphigenia.

  “We have journeyed all day and we are weary,” she said, rising to her feet and taking the two girls by the arms. “We must rest now, but tomorrow we will try to bring you more food and some for your grandmother, too. We go into Tauris city to sell our horses.”

  Katya rose politely, looking a little disappointed that they should go so soon. “There will be no buying or selling of horses tomorrow,” she told them. “It is a sacred day, and the city will be crowded. They carry the two boys through the streets in procession.”

  “Two boys?” Myrina murmured uncertainly.

  “The two boys who are to be sacrificed at the full of the moon!” Katya seemed slightly irritated that she should be so ignorant.

  Myrina was shocked again, but she tried to think fast and not look surprised. “The sacrifice of strangers who are shipwrecked?”

  “Of course!” Katya’s lip had a curl of disdain. “Milk-faced Hepsuash stopped it for a while and refused to officiate, swearing that the goddess reviled such acts. At first Thoas bowed to her will; he would do anything to please her. But now that she has refused to marry him, he’s losing patience with her. He says that she cannot have it both ways—either she is priestess and must officiate at the sacrifice, or she gives up that role to be his wife.”

  “So”—Myrina tried to get a clear picture in her mind—“she has no choice but to see these boys sacrificed or marry Thoas?”

  Katya nodded. “She’s a fool! I would not refuse Thoas! And if she knew him better, she’d understand that he doesn’t mean what he says. She could be priestess and his wife, if she wanted it.”

  Myrina thought hard. “What will Hepsuash do tomorrow?”

  “She will be brought out of the temple when the procession arrives, receive the boys, and prepare them for sacrifice. It should be Grandmother instead of her.”

  Phoebe’s cheeks were pale. Sympathetic though she was, the way in which Katya spoke of sacrifice made her feel sick. Tamsin looked at Katya with horror in her wide eyes, though she did not speak a word.

  Myrina had to grit her teeth. This grim information was very important, hard though it was to stand there calmly and listen to it. As they turned to go, the burning resentment seemed to fade from Katya’s voice. “You are the first people to speak kindly to me since we were cast out,” she said, suddenly sounding like a lost and lonely child.

  Myrina stared for a moment, trying to adjust her thoughts quickly. “Then we will look forward to speaking to you again.” She tried to sound reassuring, and the sudden change in the girl made her think that perhaps Katya was not so damaged by tragedy that there’d be no chance of winning her back. In among the outpouring of hatred were strange, touching traces of dignity and even decency.

  Quietly they walked back to their tent, deep in thought. Myrina’s head was buzzing with all that she’d learned; Tamsin and Phoebe were both subdued.

  “Now what do you think of your new friend?” Phoebe asked.

  Tamsin said nothing.

  “And those guards at the temple! They were guarding . . . ?”

  “Yes, Young Tiger.” Myrina nodded. “I think you are right; they are guarding Hepsuash. We must find out if she can possibly be our Iphigenia.”

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  The Chosen Ones

  THE NEXT MORNING they dressed themselves carefully and prepared to go into the city. If the streets were to be as crowded as Katya had warned, Myrina thought it better to leave the horses and go on foot. They’d certainly be able to mingle with the crowd and discover more that way. Though the city seemed a dangerous place to be taking the girls, she knew that she’d feel better if they were by her side and it would have to be a bold horse thief to get the better of Big Chief.

  She was hesitating when Katya slipped out of the cave and sidled almost shyly over toward their tent. “My grandmother will watch your camp and horses for you if you want to go into the city,” she said.

  Myrina turned to the cave mouth to see the old woman hobble out into the sunlight and settle once again in the place she’d occupied the evening before. Nonya gave a grim nod in their direction and Myrina acknowledged it, smiling to herself. This was a strange guardian indeed, but it seemed that she had little choice in the matter and must make the best of things. After all, she was really leaving Big Chief in charge and she could be sure that he would not let a stranger near their t
ent or the mares.

  “Tell your grandmother, Thank you,” she said.

  “If you wait for me, I will go with you to the city,” Katya suggested. “I can show you the way.”

  They looked at her uncertainly for a moment. It seemed that now the girl had decided they were friends, she was unwilling to let them out of her sight.

  “Very well,” Myrina agreed at last, unsure that an outcast was the best kind of guide.

  They waited while she washed in the stream, smoothed down her ragged skirt, and began to rake at her hair with a twig. She’d told them that she and her grandmother had been left with nothing when they were cast out of the temple; it was proving to be true. Phoebe watched Katya’s struggle to smooth her hair, then went to her baggage and brought out a bone comb that Kuspada had carved from the shin of a wild boar. It was a practical and cheerful thing with a fat hog carved into the handle.

  “For you.” She handed it to Katya.

  The girl took it uncertainly.

  “For you to keep.”

  The girl gravely whispered her thanks and set about combing her hair very thoroughly. As Myrina watched, she glimpsed a touch of beauty in the young face. Swiftly she recognized that if Katya were dressed in a fine gown and jewels, she would make heads turn.

  “Just a moment,” she said and went to one of the leather-bound bundles she’d hidden away in the tent. She pulled out a long tunic of the softest light-green linen which Tabi had given her at the winter feast. It wasn’t the rich floating gown she envisioned for Katya, but it was a good, practical garment that would allow for movement.

  Myrina emerged from the tent and held it up in front of the girl. “It’s short for me,” she said. “It will suit you much better.”

  The girl’s face fell and for a moment she almost looked angry again. Myrina’s stomach gave a small twist of regret; it seemed so easy to give offense. Did the gift signify humiliation to the proud priestess’s child?