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The Year-god's Daughter: A Saga of Ancient Greece (The Child of the Erinyes Book 1)

Page 25

by Rebecca Lochlann


  Aridela refused. “I wish I hadn’t taken any,” she said. “I came to help you, Iphiboë, yet the cara makes me long for something more. I regret not sharing the secret with Lycus. He could be with us right now.”

  “I’ve never longed for a man,” her sister returned.

  Selene leaned against Iphiboë’s shoulder. “Chew more cara. You’ll burn for one.”

  The goats tried to leave the path in search of grass. Aridela flicked her cane at them, urging them onward. “While you give yourself to the rite, I’ll dream of the god himself, lying with me as he did in my vision on the holy mountain. After him, no mortal man will ever be more than a faded imitation, like a painting of barley. Pretty, but unable to fill the stomach.”

  “Tonight, Iphiboë, you’ll know a lover for the first time,” Selene said. “I pray Our Lady chooses well, for it will shape how you feel for your partners throughout your life. No matter what, Aridela and I will be there. You won’t be alone. There’s nothing to fear.”

  Her loose pale hair, glimmering earrings, her fluttering white gown and prophetic words combined with night turned Selene into an apparition from the land of shades. Aridela shivered.

  They went on awhile in silence then Selene said, “I remember when I came to Kaphtor. My duty was to teach Iphiboë our ways. You weren’t meant to be my student, Aridela.”

  “You called me puny.”

  Selene laughed. “Are you still angry about that? You were quite small, you must admit. You’re not much bigger now. But you showed me what you could do. You won my respect. You forced me to apologize for that judgment.”

  “I hated how you dismissed me. You decided just by looking at me that I would never have any worth. But I’m grateful for all you taught us. Like how a man can be overpowered, even if he’s bigger and stronger. The secret ways.”

  Iphiboë repeated Selene’s patient instruction. “‘Our greatest strength lies in our minds. An inventive mind can triumph over any man, even a giant.’”

  “It’s true,” Selene said. “Neither of you will ever have the strength of a man, especially you, Aridela. Even a small man could best you, if it came to a battle of physical strength alone. There’s no use being angry about it; it’s the truth.”

  At one time such a statement would have sparked a terrible rage. Now, Aridela simply smiled. “I must be smarter.”

  “And you are, both of you. Aridela wanted to come with us tonight. She found a way to succeed, even with the Minos in her bedchamber.”

  “Surely Athene brought you to us so long ago.” Aridela pulled Selene into a hug, resting her cheek against her friend’s. “Promise we three will always be together, that we’ll remain true to each other.”

  “I am yours,” Selene said, “in this life, in death, and in every endless circle hidden from us.”

  “Oh, Aridela.” Iphiboë wiped at her eyes. “Your understanding has meant much to me through the years.”

  “Can these beasts not go any faster?” Selene plucked a clump of mushroom from her bag and chewed it. “I feel the night growing old.”

  Aridela obligingly spurred the goats with a touch of the cane.

  In due course, they arrived at the cave plateau and re-tethered the goats so they could graze. It took time to locate the entrance in the dark, hidden as it was by a bushy grove of trees and strewn boulders; they ended up climbing over a ridge of loose stones, having lost the path in the dark. All three giggled when Aridela slipped, slid, and waved madly to catch her balance, but almost immediately after, Iphiboë lost her balance too, and tumbled. A flurry of stones and dust followed in her wake.

  “Iphiboë,” Aridela cried.

  A moan floated from the darkness below. Selene and Aridela scrambled down to find Iphiboë at the bottom of the knoll, her leg twisted, her spine lodged against a tree trunk. The knee protruded at a sickening angle.

  “I can put it back,” Selene said. Aridela cupped her sister’s cheeks and turned her face away while Selene shoved the joint into place. Iphiboë screamed.

  Selene and Aridela looked at each other over Iphiboë’s head, knowing the other’s thoughts. She cannot complete the rites.

  “It isn’t my fault.” Iphiboë sobbed.

  Aridela rubbed her hand. “Shh, isoke, it’s no matter.” After a moment she rose, motioning to Selene.

  “What shall we do?”

  Selene shook her head. “We’ll have to get her back to the cart and take her home. The healer should see her. Everyone will know what happened.”

  “Complete the rites for me, Aridela,” Iphiboë cried. Aridela knelt again, taking her sister’s hand.

  “You aren’t afraid like I am.” Iphiboë gripped Aridela’s fingers tightly. “As future queen of Kaphtor, I make you my surrogate. Mother’s done it many times when bearing a child wasn’t convenient. I have this right. In my name, you will lie with whatever man Athene sends. It will be the same as though I did it myself.”

  Aridela resisted the urge to snatch her hand away. Had Iphiboë fallen deliberately? For her sister, injury might well be easier to bear than lying with a man.

  How would the foolish girl ever rule Kaphtor with anything near Helice’s grace and dignity?

  She and Selene helped Iphiboë up. They provided the support to get her over the rocks. There was nothing they could use as a stretcher, nothing that would work as a binding. It was a painful journey; Iphiboë sobbed the entire way.

  At the high arch of the cave mouth, they paused to catch their breath, inhaling hints of old smoke from pine torches, which lingered long at this holy place.

  The Cave of Velchanos contained the prayers, hopes and dreams of women from time immemorial.

  Aridela stared into the gaping black entrance, unable to see anything, but sensing her destiny inviting her in. She could almost, if she tried, hear an echo of worshipful song and thud of dancing feet.

  Chapter Fourteen: Moon of White Light

  Aridela lit one of the clay lamps stored on a shelf inside the cave. Slowly, she and Selene helped Iphiboë over the rocks, off the first ledge, and down more levels. Eventually they came to a circular chamber deep in the cave’s recesses, which contained stacks of dried-grass pallets and other supplies.

  “Go on,” Iphiboë said. “It’s late. I’ll be safe here.”

  They made her comfortable with fleeces and bedding, and put within reach a skin of water and a flask of poppy juice. Aridela was so reluctant to go that Selene had to pull her away.

  Selene placed two lamps near the mouth of the cave, so their glow might show the way to whomever Athene chose to send, god or man. Once this was done, they dropped tiredly onto sheepskins in the large chamber just below the first ledge. The flicker of light coming from the lamps brought the stalagmites around them to dancing life.

  They sat cross-legged and held hands, watching the shadows, listening to the sough of wind outside in the night.

  “Themiste may have been right,” Selene said after a lengthy silence. “It’s possible the Goddess wants no man to touch you.” She put her arm around Aridela’s shoulder and kissed the corner of her mouth. “I hope she never puts such restrictions on us.”

  Aridela woke from a dreamy vision that had formed in the silence. Crimson sprites with slanted yellow eyes, leaping from the stalactites, surrounding her, tickling her with feathers, vanished in sparkles of light.

  “Will I be punished for this?” she asked.

  She felt Selene’s slight shrug. “You’ve done things before, knowing you would be punished. Why worry about it now?”

  Aridela, relieved by this commonsense attitude, followed another half-formed thought. “Tell me what it’s like, when a man and woman join. The truth. If the god comes, I want to know what to expect.”

  Selene stood. She crossed to a pale stalagmite thrusting from the floor. “See this?” she said, stroking the stone. “The manhood of Velchanos, buried in Athene’s womb. As it is for Athene, so is it for women and men.” She returned, stretching out, dr
awing Aridela down beside her. “He will touch you. Here, and here. When he senses your readiness, if he isn’t an oaf, he will do this, but not with his fingers. His tongue. He will kiss you, like this, here. And here. And, if he knows what he’s doing, here.”

  Aridela shivered. She wanted to experience what Selene demonstrated. All she needed was the god.

  She remembered how Lycus pressed against her in the arboretum. During that interlude, he thought of nothing but her. His everyday ambition, worries, hates and loves were forgotten. She liked being so important to someone that everything else was obliterated, at least for a moment. And oh, Lycus was beautiful. He mesmerized from every angle.

  What if an unknown man entered the cave and found her? What if he wasn’t to her liking?

  She should have told Lycus where she would be.

  “Love between men and women is different from the love women share,” Selene said. “The man enters a woman. He leaves within her his fertile seed. It’s the divine plan, and in this way new life is created. Civilizations rise to power and vanish to dust according the children women bear.”

  “Will it hurt?”

  “It may.” Selene opened heavy-lidded eyes. “You’ve never known a man. You may bleed. But pain gives way to pleasure, especially if you’re eager. The cara helps with that.”

  So much time seemed to pass. The potion wove deeper through Aridela’s mind and body. “How long has it been?” Her voice sounded hoarse.

  “I’m not sure.”

  A gust of wind blew through the cave entrance, causing the lamps to spark and swirl. Aridela tried to blink away another fancy created by undulating shadows and cara. A pair of unearthly creatures formed, silhouetted against the lamp flames. Instead of disappearing when she blinked, they dropped from the upper ridge on two legs, dressed in the sort of typical garb hunters wore, though one possessed the heavy-maned, open-jawed head of a lion and the other bore the massive horned head of a black bull. The bull gripped a flaming torch in one hand.

  Rising on her elbows, she shook her head in an attempt to dispel sudden dizziness and shortness of breath.

  The two creatures stalked toward her. The lion seized the bull’s human arm, but the bull shook it off with a warning mutter and took several more steps toward Aridela, blocking the lion’s approach. Thrusting its head forward, the lion grabbed the bull’s arm again and yanked him backward. The torch fell, clattering as it struck the rocks. For a long moment, the beasts stared each other down. The lion, grunting, shoved the bull in the chest, causing it to stagger. Their clenched hands, corded forearms, legs stiff and spread wide, hinted at scarcely contained fury. Aridela sensed a wild, cold viciousness; she was certain these spectral creatures meant to slaughter each other right in front of her.

  “There’s no need to fight.” Selene’s voice echoed off the walls as she rose and moved closer to the stalagmite. “Come to me, bull-god. I welcome thee in the name of she who commands all beasts.”

  The bull turned his massive black head toward Selene, then back to Aridela. Aridela felt his stare. Her heartbeat quickened; the hairs on her forearms lifted. She resisted an urge to lie back, to make herself an offering.

  He took one step. Instantly, the lion slashed, aiming for the bull’s shoulder and just missing as his rival twisted. The next moments blurred as the two collided and engaged. The bull hooked the lion’s leg and sent him thudding hard onto the cave floor. Barely glancing at his fallen adversary, the bull turned toward Aridela, then, mingled with the echoes from their fight, she heard a roughened male voice.

  “You forget your place, bastard.”

  Aridela shook her head, unable to tell if the voice was human, the snarl of a lion, or the growl of a bull. She wished she hadn’t taken any of the mushrooms. Everything was suspect.

  The lion jumped to its feet as the bull paused.

  “Let there be peace between you.” Selene lifted her arms. “Here you find two willing companions. Strong and virile bull, I am more than a match for thee.” She beckoned to him. “Together we will celebrate the rite.”

  Fists clenched, the bull returned its stare to the lion, which, by the way it leaned stiffly forward, appeared anxious to reengage the fight. Giving a disgusted growl, the bull crossed to Selene. He grabbed her hand and pulled her into the darkness beyond the lamplight. Aridela felt an instant of doubt that she’d ever seen him at all.

  Wicked canine teeth picked up the faint light as the lion approached her.

  The lamps at the cave entrance gave up their struggle and sputtered out in the sough of wind. The torch dropped by the bull-god flickered, more blue than yellow. Aridela felt the presence of Athene in the deepening darkness, warm, close, and comforting. She fancied a soft voice in her head, whispering, it begins.

  “Aridela?” Selene’s disembodied voice floated from the blackness.

  “Is it a dream?” Aridela’s heartbeat skittered.

  Something smelling of worked leather brushed against Aridela’s shoulder. She drew into herself with a shiver yet fascination triumphed over fear. “Selene? Are you there? There’s something….”

  “I’m here.” Selene sounded different now. Muffled. Breathless.

  “You think me a dream?” A male voice spoke, close to Aridela’s ear though nothing now touched her. She started, but before she could scramble away, a pair of hands traveled up her arms to her shoulders. Her hair was gathered in a fist. “A woman such as you would never fear a dream.” He spoke in her language, but with a strong foreign accent. His breath tickled her skin, raising shivers. “Shouldn’t I be rewarded for discovering such treasure, so carefully hidden in the night? Though I may be only a dream, Potnia did guide me to you.”

  She felt him pull the lion mask off his head and lay it on the ground. Still, she couldn’t be sure he was a man. Gods could do anything. Perhaps he transformed from lion into man to allay her fears.

  A kiss touched the back of her neck, soft and lingering. It took no more than that. The embers lit by Selene ignited. Aridela discarded worry and consented to her incineration. She clutched this man who would be her first lover, doubting no longer that he was the god she longed for. With eager, impatient hands, she drew him down to the sheepskin.

  Athene sent a divine lover to complete the holy rite. It could be nothing else. She wished the lamps hadn’t gone out, for she wanted to revere him.

  She sensed the intent in his mouth and hands, the pressure of his chest against hers. He needed her. His concentration centered upon her and there was no world outside this cave or even beyond the edge of the sheepskin. She felt the delicious power of her ability to enthrall, and this time it was not a bull leaper she captivated, but a god.

  She pushed at the belt around his waist as her tunic ripped in his hands. “Calesienda,” she whispered. In a far corner of awareness she heard Selene gasp, and remembered the Bull. Goddess Athene provided a lover for each of them. She could give herself to the rite without concern for her friend.

  His mouth didn’t give in tenderness, like Selene’s, or ardently awaken like Lycus’s. His kisses offered no allowance for inexperience, and gave no time to think, to perhaps change her mind.

  Throwing away her ruined tunic, he held her arms against the sheepskin and prodded her legs open with his own.

  She pressed closer, drawing him in. Initial brief pain subsided into pleasure so intense it made her solitary imaginings colorless and cold.

  Mother Athene descended in a shivering cascade, giving blessing and consent.

  The sound of his breathing guided her into his rhythm. In an instant of clarified terror, she sensed his heartbeat, his breath, his hands, stealing her, pulling her into something dark, deep and inescapable. He had no face; he was a heavy looming shadow, weighting her down, sucking her away. Ominous vertigo filtered through lust; she thought she heard Aridela, the princess of Kaphtor, shout a warning. She grabbed at his shoulders then the fear was gone, leaving only his body, his rhythm, his breath and mouth, and no more world,
duty, or preordained purpose.

  Even as she saw the end approach, saw herself explode, melt or leap from the cave into the glorious paradise of Hesperia, he stopped. He lay still, breathing hard next to her ear. His member filled her, but refused to grant release.

  She felt shredded by greed and desire. This was the divine union? It was too much to bear.

  At last her breathing slowed and she knew she would survive. His skin warmed her. Sweat trickled between their bodies though the cave was damp and chilly.

  From the darkness came the sound of laborious breathing. “Selene?” she asked, annoyed at the tremble in her voice.

  “Hmm,” came a faint reply. “I am well. Yes, very well.”

  Aridela felt the god’s lips stretch into a smile against her cheek. He kissed her eyelids. For the first time he touched her breasts.

  “As am I,” she returned, shivering.

  She shifted her face closer to his, surprised to feel the graze of a beard. She explored the outline of his ears, the soft down of his lashes. His flesh felt smooth and firm. He must be young, but of course a god would never age. His scent combined sea-winds, the mingled essence of their bodies, and something she could only name male. She traced the bridge of his nose from forehead to mouth. It felt long, imposing, like another part of him, which again chased her up the precipice from which she sought to leap. She followed the movement of his hips with her own, pressing him closer with her thighs.

  “This first time can never be repeated,” he said. “Let us savor it.”

  Wrapping round him, she welcomed his invasion and forgot about the rite, Athene, Iphiboë, everything.

  She lost track of how many times they coupled then rested, kissing, only to do it all again, and more. He was, as Selene would put it, a man who knew what he was doing, who knew how to use his tongue as well as his hands and phallus. At last, when she released a wordless cry, he abandoned any pretense of teasing and play. For one endless instant, she knew communion with Athene, saw the future, past, and present, as did the Lady. The world stopped then started again but slowly, deeply, and there was no cave, no dampness, only clouds of warm lavender radiance and wave upon wave of fulfillment.

 

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