My Life as Athena: The Private Memoirs of a Greek Goddess

by Daphne Ignatius

  I turned and started to walk towards my chariot. “Call for me after you get your next task from Eurystheus, and I will come,” I called over my shoulder.

  Heracles got to his feet, looking weary. “Thank you, Lady Athena. I know that you have better things to do, but your assistance will be a great boon. I’ve done terrible things, but I mean to redeem myself so that I can see my children again in the afterlife. With your advice, I have no doubt that I will do it.”

  I admit that I was stunned. I had not expected such depth of feeling based on everything I had heard about him. Humbled and a bit ashamed, I extended my hand to him and replied with equal sincerity. “Between the two of us, we will get this done. All will be well.”

  And it was. It turned out to be twelve labors, not ten, because Heracles accepted help from his friend Iolaus when tackling the Hydra, and accepted a small payment for cleaning out the Aegean stables. Eurystheus, who was a small minded and jealous fellow, disqualified both those achievements and issued replacement tasks. To no avail, as it turned out, because Heracles completed them with me at his side all the way. Heracles did redeem his name and went on many more adventures, including travelling with the explorer Jason on the famous hunt for the Golden Fleece.

  Compared to the intense effort that I put in for Heracles, Jason was a moonlit stroll. Smart, adventurous, and courageous, he was one of my favorites. And yet the only thing I did for him was to design his ship, the Argo, and install a magical piece of wood in the prow of his ship. I had asked a tree in the garden of the Hesperides to contribute a branch, and it did so gladly. I carved the branch into the shape of one of Poseidon’s sea horses and pounded it into place on the prow of the ship. Placing my hands on the carving, I blessed it and gave it the ability to speak and prophesy danger. It served the Argonauts well until the day it broke off. Unfortunately, Jason happened to be napping under the prow at that time, and the blow killed him. The Fates must have been laughing that day.

  Who’s left? Achilles, the ultimate warrior. His arrogance knew no bounds.

  Odysseus, another favorite of mine. His mind was sharp and his tongue honeyed, a combination that is particularly appealing to me. Technically, he was not the most honorable of men, but he was pragmatic, and wasn’t afraid to make the hard choices. But that tale is yet to come.

  Isis

  The Age of Heroes was also the age of expansion. Our tidy little world was about to expand in a myriad of ways. Unbeknownst to us, across the Mediterranean was a thriving kingdom called Egypt, already old and well ahead of us in civilization and learning. Our sailors tended to keep close to the coast, rather than tempting fate by striking out into the unknown. The Egyptians clearly were not afraid, because they found us. I was at the Parthenon when an overexcited acolyte darted in, chattering about a strange ship and dark-skinned people in the harbor.

  Without further ado, I materialized at the docks at Piraeus, keeping myself invisible so that I could watch the visitors unnoticed. Taking a seat on a stack of ropes, I studied their ship. Unlike ours, it was flatter, more barge-like, and I wondered how it had travelled across the Mediterranean without getting swamped. Apparently, it worked fine because here they were.

  The sailors on board were an intriguing mix: some medium skinned and medium height, others tall and black as night. Most unusually, they all had shaved heads and thick black lines drawn around their eyes, making their eyes look huge. They were dressed very lightly, most of them bare-chested and wearing short linen kilts, belted at the waist with thick leather belts that allowed them great freedom of movement. Luckily, it was turning out to be a warm spring, or they would have caught their deaths.

  The officers on the ship were dressed in airy, ankle-length kilts, and covered their heads with cloth headdresses that fell pleasingly around the sharply defined faces. They were clearly wealthy, as they wore intricate gold amulets on their bare chests and heavy gold bracelets around their wrists. It was these men who tried to make contact with the good dock masters of Athens, but they were tripped up by the complete lack of a common language. Still, both sides were obviously interested in making some coin, and thus began using vigorous gestures and pointing, coupled with the addition of broad smiles to convey friendly intent.

  I shifted my gaze from the cluster on the dock to glance back at the Egyptian ship, and caught sight of a strange flickering on the ship itself. As if reacting to my gaze, the form solidified to become a small, magnificently attired Egyptian woman. The sight of a woman on a trading ship was odd in itself, but what made me sit up was the unmistakable sense of power that cloaked her.

  Our eyes met and she nodded to me slightly, her voluptuous lips curving slightly upwards in a smile. I was shocked. She had to be a goddess. No mortal could see me when I chose to be cloaked as I was. My mind thudded to a halt as my universe expanded in that instant.

  A foreign goddess in my city! And here I was in an uninspiring, purple chiton looking much like the fishwives weaving about me. I cursed my luck. Nevertheless, the foreign goddess was a guest in my city and it was my duty to greet her properly.

  Getting to my feet, I walked to the ship’s edge and looked up at the stunning goddess, who moved forward to stand by the rail. She was small, probably only reaching my shoulder in height, but everything about her was exquisite. Her skin was the color of light walnut, her body lush in the white, finely pleated sheath. Her loose black hair flowed down her back and ended in golden beads that clicked gently in the breeze. Over her hair, she wore a heavy gold circlet embellished with what looked like a rearing snake in the front. Her dark eyes were outlined in the same black lines that adorned her people, and her small, bow-shaped mouth was colored a deep carmine.

  “Welcome, Lady,” I said, making a welcoming gesture with my hands, aware that she probably couldn’t understand my words but hoping that I made my intent clear. Shockingly, she responded to me mentally, reaching out and putting forth the picture of herself dressed in a clinging red sheath, covered in jewels, with a golden throne on her head. She touched her breast with one small hand and said, “Isis.”

  I responded in kind, mirroring her gesture, and said, “Athena.” I projected a picture of myself in a silver peplos, my chest protected by my aegis, with my helmet on my head and wearing my shield on my arm. Her eyebrows shot skywards, so I was quite sure that my attempt at communication had worked. Encouraged, I pictured a sumptuous feast as an invitation and a welcome. The smile on Isis’s face broadened slightly and she nodded. Gracefully, she left the railing of the ship and glided down the gangplank to stand beside me.

  Taking the chance to impress her with my power, if not my attire, I whisked her to the front of my temple overlooking the city. I swept my hand across the view and then pressed it to my chest. Mine. She nodded, understanding. For both my sanity and yours, dear readers, I’ll speed things up from this point on by representing our halting mental communication as words, so that we can get on with the story.

  As I led Isis into the cool, dark interior of my temple, her eyes fixed on my massive ivory and gold statue at the far end of the hall (yes, the very one that had turned me plump.)

  “Women are warriors in your country?” she asked, pointing to the shield resting at the foot of my statue.

  “Not typically. I’m the exception, as I was named the Goddess of War. Or Warcraft, to be more accurate,” I amended. “I don’t favor war, but I will fight when I have to. And I use tactics and strategy to win advantage, rather than relying on physical strength to win the battle.”

  Isis nodded approvingly. “The war god in my country is male, but I like that your country is more open-minded. Females understand the cost of war much better than men, and often have to deal with the negative consequences afterwards. It is good that you have some control in that.”

  I was pleasantly surprised by her perspective and refrained from correcting Isis on the open-minded bit. Hera and Hestia disapproved of that aspect of myself, so I was used to being lectured about being more g
entle and leaving the whole war business to Ares. It was refreshing to be with someone who actually saw the advantage of having an alternate viewpoint in the business of war.

  My priestesses brought food and wine and bowed away. They stood against the wall and watched us, fascinated and awed by the foreign visitor. Belatedly, I realized that perhaps Isis didn’t eat mortal food, but that was set at rest when she tasted the wine and told me it was truly delicious. Relieved, I asked her to tell me about herself and her country.

  Isis was the premier goddess in Egypt, equivalent to our Hera, with her son Horus as the main god. Her husband, Osiris, had been betrayed by his brother and now served as the god of their underworld. She told me that Egypt was very old and some of the pictures she gave me of their temples, palaces, and tombs were mindboggling. It was rich in grains, fruits, wine, and fine linen; it was these goods that her people had come here to trade. In return, they were interested in learning more about Greece, and especially the fine pottery they had come across in the marketplaces of Crete and Troy.

  I was simultaneously impressed and intimidated. The Egyptians were clearly much more travelled than we were. How could we have lived so long in such an insulated fashion? Isis was so relaxed and approachable that I felt comfortable peppering her with questions. It was almost like being with Pallas again. My imagination fired, we talked deep into the night.

  It was Isis who told me that I could go anywhere that my worshippers resided. All I had to do was lock in on them and shimmer myself there. This was how she had arrived in Athens. The further my worshippers travelled, the further I could go. More importantly, if my people left a small shrine behind when they left, I could always get back to that location again. I asked how she dealt with the problem of communication.

  “I always use mental communication, as I did with you when we met. Pictures are universal. After that, I will find a local to teach me.” She paused for a moment. “There is a darker way, as well, that I don’t support.” She refused to share that knowledge, and I couldn’t press her on such short acquaintance without appearing insufferably rude.

  Isis was also the one who planted the thought that we gods and goddesses were not actually truly immortal, but merely a different race with extremely long lifespans. I mentioned that I was concerned that Erichthonius appeared to be aging faster than I was. This seemed unnatural to me, given that both his parents were gods.

  “Perhaps,” she said, “lifespan decreases with each successive generation. After all, you all inherited your immortal essence from your creator. The further you get from her, the more diluted the essence, and thus, the lesser the power and the lifespan. Eventually, future generations will be simply mortal.”

  I was appalled. The theory could explain what I was seeing among the younger Titans and Olympians, but I instinctively rejected it. For it meant that Eric would fade before I did, and that was intolerable.

  “I would like to introduce you to my colleagues and family on Olympus, if you are willing,” I said, changing the subject abruptly.

  Isis appeared surprised by this suggestion, but she accepted gracefully. She got to her feet, indicating that she had to get back to Egypt but would return in a few days. After expressing the mutual interest in establishing trade between Egypt and the city-states of mainland Greece, she shimmered away.

  I lingered behind. My priestesses and acolytes headed off to bed, darkening the sanctuary and closing the heavy wood doors, leaving me to my thoughts. I was shaken in so many ways. I had been wrapped in my comfortable little cocoon, content to take care of my city, my immediate duties, and nothing more. I was supposed to be the Goddess of Wisdom, but it was appallingly obvious just how ignorant of the wider world I was. It took meeting a superior being from another world—and there was sadly no question that Isis was superior—to open my eyes.

  I had been coasting along, unwilling to invest the effort in becoming the exceptional being that my mother had charged me to be. I had turned out to be slothful and ordinary, and it was a bitter pill for me to swallow in the depths of that night.

  Isis reappeared in my temple two days later as promised, and I escorted her up to the Agora on Olympus. I had prepared Zeus and the rest of the council for her arrival, and everyone was dressed in their finest for the occasion.

  When we arrived, Zeus and Hera got to their feet and descended to the main level to welcome Isis. The rest of the gods were fascinated by the exotic creature in front of them, frank admiration showing in the faces of the males. Zeus escorted Isis to an ornate chair placed on the dais beside our thrones, and signaled the handmaids to bring refreshments.

  “Thank you for your hospitality. I hope that I can return it one day in my own land,” said Isis as she settled back into her chair. “Olympus is one of the most beautiful places I’ve seen. We in Egypt appreciate such things, as a goodly portion of our domain is desert. It is only the lands fed by the great Nile that are as lush and green as this.”

  “Egypt is fairly hot, then,” said Hera with interest. “Does it have the seasons that we do here?”

  “We have a dry season and a wet season when the Nile floods. But it is generally warm, as during your summers.”

  “I saw a wide range of people on the Egyptian ship that docked in Athens. Egypt must have a diverse population.”

  Isis inclined her head in confirmation. “We count the peoples of the Black and Red lands, as well as the nomads of the Great Desert. Slaves from many other countries have also arrived in our seaports, bringing their languages and religions with them. And your lands? Do you have many visitors?”

  “Some. Traders from Carthage, Knossos, and Troy visit us regularly, and we are hoping to establish contact with the Latins who have established a settlement on the river Tiber.”

  “My people have a great interest in trading with yours,” said Isis, her gaze resting on each council member. “I believe that an alliance will be beneficial to both parties.”

  “I agree, Lady of Egypt,” replied Zeus expansively. “I have heard that the samples of honey, wine, and linen that your ship provided set our merchants atwitter. My brother Poseidon will ensure the safety of the Aegean for your ships to come and go as they please.” Isis looked pleased, and the conversation continued in that vein. I relaxed back into my throne and scanned the faces of the rest of the council.

  “And freedom of religion?” asked Isis. “My traders must be left alone to honor their religion.”

  “Of course,” said Zeus. “But only on Egyptian property. We do not tolerate shrines, or temples to foreign gods on Greek lands.”

  “We do not believe in such restrictions in my lands,” countered Isis. “We have benefited from the exposure to different cultures and practices. The advances in medicine alone have been incalculable! I urge you to reconsider.”

  “We will welcome your traders under that one condition,” answered Zeus, unbending. “I’m afraid that I cannot be flexible on this one point.”

  “Then the same restriction will apply to Greek traders in Egypt,” replied Isis, with a touch of coldness. “That is only fair.”

  Zeus nodded and the two toasted one another to mark the agreement.

  Later, as we made ready to depart Olympus, I tried to smooth over the religious freedom bit.

  “I understand, sister,” said Isis, to spare me further excuse-making. “To be honest, I have run into this before with younger cultures. As you become more comfortable in your own domains, the defensiveness will fade.”

  Her condescending statement promptly doubled my defensiveness. “We are comfortable in our domain. Our people are faithful and trust us to care for them.”

  “And do you not trust them to recognize that devotion and care?” asked Isis. “If so, why would you fear them turning to other gods?”

  “So you are telling me that you have honestly allowed temples to other gods in Egypt?” I asked, disbelieving.

  “Yes, I am,” replied Isis calmly. “We have shrines to Ishtar, who is a Babylo
nian goddess; Yahweh, who is a desert god, and Ahura Mazda from Persia. I won’t say that my priests don’t resent the presence of those other temples, but my son and I do not believe in forcing worship from people who were not born to us. If you want Greece to grow in knowledge and wealth, you will have to become more open to other beliefs. There are an unbelievable number of immortals out there from whom you can learn.”

  Her last statement struck a chord with me, as I had come to the same conclusion myself simply from meeting her. So, I struck a conciliatory note. “I would like very much to visit Egypt and see it for myself.”

  Isis rewarded me with a soft smile. “I would like that very much, sister. It would make me very happy to repay your hospitality with my own.”

  Unfortunately, before I could make preparations to visit Egypt, Olympus was shaken by a conflict that challenged the loyalties of its inhabitants.

  Troy

  The Trojan War is legendary, even after so many millennia. The story is so well known from books and movies that I don’t feel the need to rehash it here. What is less well known was the political impact this particular conflict had on Olympus.

  All believe that the conflict started because of that silly beauty contest judged by Prince Paris, but the story actually started many years before.

  Aphrodite didn’t get away scot free after she was divorced from Hephaestus—Zeus made sure of that. In a devious punishment, he glamoured a prince from Troy, making him glow like an exceptionally beautiful god, and then put him in Aphrodite’s way. She became enamored with him and conceived a child. It was only then that Zeus revealed to the horrified Aphrodite that her child was actually half-human.