Arthur Imperator

by Paul Bannister

  “Here,” said Diana at length, picking up and holding out the battle-axe and the spears she had brought. “These are for you. The axe was made by the god Vulcan according to the exact specifications of the inventor, an Amazon queen named Penthesilea. I will teach you how to use it. The spears I made myself.”

  “I have heard about the Amazons, but my father told me they were no more than legends invented by some small-town Greeks,” said Camilla.

  “My dear, dear girl,” replied the goddess with a smile. “Your father was a wise man, but these daughters of Mars are not legends. But I must grant you this, their bravery and their skill at hunting and fighting almost make them seem like a figment of someone’s imagination. Come,” she motioned with her hand, “sit down close to me so that you can hear a little bit more about those women.”

  Diana, knowing that the girl needed some cheering up, was glad to spend as much time as needed telling her about the famous warriors. In addition, she decided to embellish her narrative a little as she went along. By way of introduction, she gave Camilla a geography lesson of sorts. She described the Euxine Sea, as well as the rivers that flow into it. One of those was the Thermodon, famous for its dark waters.

  “It is on the banks of this river,” continued the goddess, “that the man-less Amazons have lived for a long time, ever since they and their families were first expelled from the land of the Scythians by political rivals. At first, life was not easy because the natives did not welcome outsiders and warfare was constant. Then, one night, the natives surprised and massacred all the men and raped their wives and daughters. Enraged, these women, who in addition to being abused, were now widows and orphans, quickly armed themselves with some daggers that they made out of their own ornaments. And they not only beat the natives, but even expelled them from their territory. From then on, these women, now calling themselves Amazons, decided never again to have anything to do with men, and to train for war starting in early childhood. Having learned to hunt in order to survive, they were already experts in the use of bow and arrow. I myself went hunting with one of their queens on occasion. I believe that was … uh, Marpesia. Yes, that was her name. And I can tell you that those Amazons are almost as skillful at hunting as I am.”

  “But is it true,” asked Camilla, “that their right breast is burnt off with a red-hot bronze instrument when they are still very young, in order to make it easier to throw a spear and to shoot with bow and arrow?”

  “That is not quite accurate, my girl, “answered Diana. “But when they train and when they go to battle, they do keep it bare for that reason. I do the same thing. You don’t want your clothing getting in the way, do you? Now back to my story! The Amazons began to spread their dominions to Colchis and even to the Tauric Chersonese. In time, Orithya ascended the throne, a young queen both exceedingly beautiful and remarkably brave. But while she was away leading her army and conquering more lands, the Greek hero Hercules and his friends invaded Themiscyra, her capital, imprisoned one of her sisters, killed Prothoe, Eriboea, Tecmessa, and Alcippe, and stole a suit of royal armor. He had the nerve to do this, despite the fact that the Amazons had recently helped him with one of his labors, I’m inclined to think it was his ninth. He also took her girdle, the ensign of her kingly power, a present she had received from Mars himself. He also stole the queen’s battle-axe. The girdle ended up in the hands of Admete, daughter of Eurystheus, the ruler of Tiryns who sent the hero on all his labors.

  “As soon as Orithya came back,” continued Diana, “she was furious and immediately called together the largest army she had ever summoned. She gave them an impassioned speech, asking: ‘What good is it for us to lord it over Pontus and Asia if, notwithstanding our successes, we remain exposed to the insolence of the Greeks, who dared to attack us in the heart of our own state? Are we going to submit tamely to murder and rapine? Will it not be a matter of time before another Greek and his army comes to try to destroy us all?’

  “Her speech,” Diana went on, “had the desired effect, and every warrior in the army was more than ready to go. Having crossed over the frozen Bosphorus and marching through Colchis, Thrace, Thessaly, and Macedonia, at last the brave warriors arrived outside the city of Athens. But, unfortunately, through the betrayal and the guile of some Athenians, the Amazons lost the battle to King Theseus and his men. No one knows for sure what happened to the queen, and the dead had to be buried there, near the Piraeic gate, because Themiscyra was too far away to carry them all back.

  “But that was certainly not the end of the Amazons,” continued the goddess, playing with a handful of dry leaves that were lying on the ground. “In fact, only recently the current queen, the gorgeous Penthesilea, led a chosen band to go help Priam, king of Troy. You see, the Greeks, with one thousand ships, had gone to besiege his city. The excuse for doing so was that Priam’s son Paris – some prefer to call him Alexandros – had kidnapped the wife of a Greek warlord and he wanted her back. But I am telling you, Camilla, the truth is that the Greeks started to fear the power that the Trojans were acquiring by controlling the Hellespont. They were also jealous of the wealth that the Trojans were accumulating from the tolls they collected from every single ship passing through that strait. Anyway, to make a long story short, Penthesilea arrived soon after the death of Priam’s favorite son, Hector, and thanks to her and her warriors, Priam did pretty well in the war for a year or so. Eventually Troy was lost, despite the Amazons’ best efforts on the plains of the Scamander, and they went back home. But this was only the second defeat they had ever suffered since becoming a mighty nation, and I believe it will be their last one too.”

  Camilla, enraptured, had been hanging on to every one of Diana’s words. The girl had long stopped feeling apprehensive, and now she was glad to have the goddess’ company and the chance to converse with her.

  “If one day you should find the need – or the wish – to become a warrior,” said Diana, “I will come back and take you to the Amazons for training. I am sure you would love to learn to ride and fight on horseback as they do.”

  Diana and Camilla spent long hours talking about hunting. Diana also showed her how to handle the brand-new battle-axe and gave her a few hints on how to sharpen the head using a whetstone, and on how to keep the shaft clean and polished. She didn’t foresee the shaft needing to be replaced anytime soon, but she suggested a number of alternatives in case Camilla had to do so.

  When darkest night had put forth her starry face, Diana said farewell to Camilla, who felt more tired than she had ever felt. It had certainly been the most eventful day of her life. She drank a draught of nectar that the goddess had given her in a cup, and was soon wrapped in a profound slumber. In her dreams she saw herself as a tried and true Amazon, hurling her spears, using the battle-axe, and sitting on the back of a four-legged creature that must surely be one of the horses Diana had talked about.

  In the morning, Camilla picked up an arrow that was lying on the ground where she and the goddess had sat talking the day before. She didn’t remember having dropped it and, without looking at it closely or giving it any more thought, she put it in her quiver with the rest of her arrows.

  IV: 1179 BC

  Months after her father’s death and Diana’s visit, Camilla decided one day to venture beyond her habitual hunting grounds. Metabus had always told her that it was better to lead a solitary existence and avoid contact with other humans.

  “There is nothing that the woods cannot provide,” he used to say. “So long as we keep offering sacrifices to Silvanus, god of the woods, we will be fine. We have no need to go to the lands of other humans and mingle with them or, worse, become the hunted.” Then he would again tell her the story about their narrow escape from the angry mob at Privernum only a few hours after she was born.

  While her father was alive she had been happy to follow his wishes. But now that he had become part of perpetual night and considering that she had always been fearless, as well as curious, she saw no reason no
t to go exploring. She went to sleep making all kinds of plans in her mind and kept drifting between the lessons she had learned from Diana and those learned from her father, as well as some of the stories he used to tell her. The last story she remembered going over before dozing off was the one about Scythes. He was one of the many sons of Jupiter, and the inventor of the bow and arrow, who had introduced Diana herself to archery. He had also sent her to the Cyclopes to get a magical quiver that would always fill right up after she had sent her arrows flying.

  Camilla had not been asleep long when the watchful Aurora opened her purple doors in the ruddy east and her halls filled with roses. The stars disappeared, the troops whereof Lucifer gathered, and moved the last from his position in the heavens. She got up and, after eating a breakfast of cold roast boar – the leftovers of a huge wild boar she had speared the day before – and sacrificing to Diana and to Silvanus, she picked up her weapons and checked to see in which direction the wind was blowing. She started walking north so she could be upwind from any possible predators. Opis, in the semblance of a sweet-singing bird, followed her, as she did every day.

  Hours later, when Lucifer was shining in the lofty sky in all his splendor and making the smallest shadow from the head downwards, Camilla arrived outside a small village nested in the woods. She had never seen huts before, whether rectangular or of any other shape, and was particularly intrigued by the humans she saw there, the first humans other than her father she had seen, but certainly not the last. The young huntress got as close as she could, making sure she remained hidden from view.

  Some of the humans were making quite a bit of noise and moving about a lot, throwing something back and forth. Camilla was trying to figure out what they were doing when, all of a sudden, the object being thrown flew into the trees to her right. A member of the spirited group ran to fetch the object – a small ball made of compressed wool wrapped in string – but when she picked it up and turned, she practically bumped into Camilla. They stared at each other for a long time without saying a word. The girl who had the ball in her hands had never seen someone clad in animal skins, with a tiger’s hide slung over her back and shoulders. As for Camilla, she had never seen someone wearing a long trailing robe, and with her hair bound in colorful ribbons. It was Camilla who finally made a move, getting closer to the girl and touching her hair. The girl then touched the tiger’s hide, which made Camilla retreat a few steps.

  “Acca!” shouted one of the group. “Is everything all right over there? Did you find the ball?”

  The girl who had found it among the trees yelled back:

  “Yes, I did, but I want you all to come over here! Right away! You are not going to believe this!”

  The rest of the group came running and stood there, staring at Camilla just as Acca had done.

  “Who are you,” Acca asked Camilla at last, “and where did you come from?”

  Camilla did not answer at first, so Acca turned to her friends.

  “Tulla, Tarpeia, Larina,” she said, “do you think we are in the presence of one of the immortals? Diana, perhaps?”

  Camilla finally spoke, saying that she was just the goddess’ handmaiden, not an immortal.

  “And do you have a name?” asked the girl.

  “I am Camilla the Volscian,” she replied.

  “We are all Volscians as well,” said Tulla, delighted. “But how come we have never seen you before? Have you even been to the yearly festivals where the people of all the Volscian towns gather together to honor the goddess? If you had, we would certainly remember you; wouldn’t we, girls?”

  Camilla was not sure how much information the four girls needed at that time.

  “I live in the woods and spend all my time hunting,” she told them. “I don’t have time to go to festivals.”

  “This year’s festival will be starting in three days,” replied Tarpeia. “Why don’t you go with us?”

  Camilla started to consider it. Then she heard that the goddess in question, to whose festival she was being invited, was no other than Diana. So she promptly agreed to come back in a few days. Since her home was several hours away, she presently headed back, shooting a rabbit on her way, which she later roasted and had for supper. Then she sought a little rest, until Lucifer should usher forth the fires of Aurora, the chariot of the day.

  Camilla spent the next few days going back to observe the villagers, well hidden among the trees, more carefully hidden than the day Acca had found her. She wanted to make sure that she understood these humans and their customs a little better before spending time with them again. Up in the trees, Opis was getting a little bored with this routine, but there was nothing she could do about it. She had to follow Diana’s instructions, as always.

  On the day of the festival, as promised, Camilla arrived back at the spot where she had met the girls, just as the families of the village were setting out for Mount Algidus. Acca had with her a clean, spare tunic, which she handed to Camilla.

  “You don’t want to draw attention to yourself with your animal skins,” she told Camilla. “Why don’t you wear this? Most girls going to the festival will be wearing a short, sleeveless tunic, just like the one the goddess wears.”

  Camilla agreed and quickly stepped behind some trees to change into the tunic Acca had brought. Tarpeia lent her a pair of sandals. Fortunately the bow and quiver did not look out of place, since the festival was in honor of the goddess of the hunt.

  The girls set out together and fell to talking as they walked. Camilla soon felt she could trust them a bit and talked about her life as a huntress. For the time being, however, she decided not to bring up again her special relationship with Diana or go into any detail, and the girls didn’t seem to remember that anyway. And she also thought there was no need to talk about Privernum and her father, at least not yet. She wasn’t sure if his memory and the hatred for him had faded in the eighteen years since he had been forced to leave in a hurry.

  The four Volscian girls were very interested in what Camilla had to say about her life in the woods and kept asking her all kinds of questions. Before they knew it, they arrived at Mount Algidus, where they joined the crowds that had arrived, and were still arriving, from the other Volscian towns and villages.

  Diana’s priest, the rex nemorensis, was standing in the portico of the temple, with his back to the people. It was a beautiful temple, with thirty-six marble columns supporting a massive roof. One out of every nine columns had bases that were exquisitely carved with figures in high relief. The priest’s assistants, standing on either side of him, were in charge of the people’s offerings. As soon as someone standing in line made it to the front, the assistants looked at the gift. If it was an animal or food that was going to be part of the sacrifices offered to the deity, they made a marking on a wooden tablet and ordered the person to drop it off next to the altar. Camilla noticed that there were a ram and a pig tied with a rope and a few pigeons in a small cage, as well as sesame and honey cakes, cheese, and many jugs of wine. All other offerings the assistants took from those who were bearing them and deposited them at the base of the goddess’ statue. In the time that the girls were in line Diana received a sleeved tunic in a box, a short embroidered tunic, a woman’s girdle, a white cloak, an ivory lyre and a wooden pick inlaid with ivory, a silver bowl, and a gold ring. This last item was Acca’s family’s offering, and the bowl was Tarpeia’s.

  When temple personnel had relieved all those who had brought gifts for Diana, the priest walked over to the altar and invoked the goddess by whispering a prayer that only he could hear. Then he picked up a mixing bowl full of undiluted wine and poured some of it on the animals. Next he sprinkled salted emmer flour on them and, pulling back their heads, slit their throats, one after the other, letting all the blood drain out. Then, while whispering another prayer, he slit open their underbellies and removed their still trembling entrails, inspecting them to make sure they were not defective. Next he poured more wine over the entrails and roas
ted them until they were charred, offering the smoke to the goddess. The assistants then took the carcasses emptied of innards to a large cooking pit next to the temple, where they were roasted for the communal feast of Diana’s worshipers.

  As soon as the priest had finished with the sacrifice, a collective sigh of relief was heard. All those who were present knew that the activities had to follow very clearly defined rituals, and that these had to be performed correctly, down to the last detail. If the priest made a mistake of any kind or stuttered, or if an animal made a sound or put up any resistance, or the entrails didn’t look perfect – whatever it was that perfect entrails were supposed to look like, only the priest knew – then the ritual had to be started all over again. Today, however, everything had gone well.

  The rest of the festival took nearly all day, and there was much singing and chanting of joyous paeans. Camilla’s friends joined in the singing of their favorite hymn to Diana, raising their voices as much as they could:

  “We sing of Diana, whose arrows are of gold, who urges on the hounds, the pure maiden, shooter of deer, who delights in archery, sister of Apollo, with whom she was fostered. Over the hills and peaks she draws her golden bow, rejoicing in the chase, and sends out her winged arrows. The mountain peaks tremble and the green woods echo with the cries of beasts. But the far-shooting goddess bravely turns everywhere destroying all the wild animals.”

  At this point all the singers of the hymn pretended they were holding a bow and pulling back the string, then letting go of the imaginary string and sending myriad arrows flying through the air.