by Hilary Green
I nodded, averting my face. After a moment I said, ‘Why must it be like this? I thought I understood, during the initiation, but now …’
He replied gravely, ‘The Goddess must be served.’
‘But why like this?’
‘Because She is the Mistress of Birth and Death, the fount of regeneration for man and beast and the fruitful earth. If we wish to partake of her bounty we must accomplish her rites.’
‘And so the King must seem to die every year, and on the third day be re-born.’
‘Even so. He dies, as the fruits of the earth die, and is conceived as a child in the womb or a seed in the earth, and is re-born; and the Goddess is at once his Mother and his Wife.’
‘But sometimes we worship Her as the Virgin Queen,’ I said.
‘She is all three – virgin, wife and mother, changing as the moon changes.’
I shivered. ‘Is it true that at one time the old king was really torn to pieces by his followers and eaten, and a new king took his place?’
He looked out gravely across the shadowy bay. ‘I believe it must have been so, once – perhaps among the Old People, before we Achaeans came here.’
‘And the Sacred Marriage,’ I persisted. ‘That was spoken of – but what happens?’
He hesitated, then said, ‘At one time the King himself performed the rite. Then it must have come about that the king grew too old or too infirm and so a younger man was permitted to take his place. No one knows who he is or how he is chosen, except the Priestesses.’
I stared at him. ‘But how can a mere human mate with the Goddess?’
He turned away abruptly, ‘It is best not to speak of these things. Ask me no more.’
I was silent for a while and then I said, ‘I do not understand it, Alectryon. Amongst us the man is master, and the Kings of Pylos draw their descent from the god Poseidon. And yet the King must submit to the Goddess even unto death!’
He said sharply, ‘Alkmaion, be careful what you say! This land has always belonged to Her. The king rules only as Her earthly husband. It is a fearful thing to rebel against Her, here on Her Holy Mountain and on this day of all days. If you are wise you will make Her some special sacrifice, to appease Her wrath.’
As I gazed at him, trembling, a sound behind us at the entrance of the cave ripped the still air. It was the cry of a woman in desperate sorrow. At once it was taken up by other voices until the valleys about us re-echoed with the sound of mourning. I leapt up, wild with terror, but Alectryon gripped my arm and brought me to myself.
‘It is the Lamentation for the Dead King. Come, we must join them.’
And so, with weeping and cries of desolation, the procession returned from the mountain to the city and everywhere we passed the lament was taken up.
And now I must speak of forbidden things. The next night was the night of the full moon. At sunset another procession formed outside the palace gates and made its way once again to the mouth of the Sacred Cave. Here the priests brought forth to us, from the deepest recesses where only those in Her service are permitted to penetrate, my father, newborn of the Goddess. With him at its head the procession moved on towards the top of the mountain, where the sacred pillar carved with the symbol of the double axe declared Her presence. I was about to follow when a hand touched my arm and I turned to find Eritha at my side. She laid her finger to her lips and pulled me towards the entrance to the cave. When I protested she moved close to me, rubbing herself against me until my desire became unconquerable. Breathlessly, I followed her into the darkness as behind us on the mountain top a faint, mysterious hymn began.
Inside the cave I reached for Eritha but she laid her fingers on my mouth and breathed, ‘Not now. Not here. Come – you are the Chosen One.’
Then I realised that the other priestesses were waiting in the shadows. As if in a dream I allowed myself to be led deeper into the dark recesses where, in the flickering torch light, huge shapes loomed above me. I held back,
‘No. It is forbidden! I am not consecrated…’
But Eritha repeated, ‘You are the Chosen One. The Goddess awaits Her bridegroom.’
They brought me to the beginning of a narrow stair cut steeply into the rock and Eritha thrust me forward.
‘Go, blessed among men!’
As I began to climb I could hear the hymn echoing louder above me. Suddenly I was in the open air and I could see the moon through a screen of leafy branches. Before me I could make out a couch spread with silken draperies and on it the body of a woman. I could see her slender, naked limbs and her full breasts but her face was covered by a golden mask. The hymn swelled to a climax and my mind reeled with terror and desire. I loosed my belt and let my garment fall and a hand reached out, warm and faintly trembling, and drew me forward. I stretched myself upon her, feeling the cool, firm flesh, the soft roundness of her breasts, the legs parting to receive me. Then the woman in my arms gave a low cry and the blood seemed to stand still in my veins. I jerked my head back and stared down at her. Familiar eyes looked back at me through the slits in the mask, wide with horror. All desire drained from my body as I recognised my sister, Karpathia.
I flung myself back and in that instant the hymn came to an end with a triumphal shout and the light of a hundred torches blazed into life around the sanctuary. Blindly I sprang back to the narrow staircase and hurled myself down it. Hands caught at me as I fled, women’s hands. I broke free and reached the cave, stumbling and battering against the rocky walls. Behind me I could hear them, the Priestesses, wild with fury at the insult to their Mistress. They were upon me, panting and breathing curses, their hands tearing at my body. Again I flung them off and ran on, sobbing with terror.
They were close behind me as I burst into the moonlight but here, on the open hillside, I could outstrip them. It was a long time, however, before their cries faded behind me and I dared to sink down against the bole of an oak tree. Even then I paused only long enough for my agonized breathing to slow a little. Then, as a wounded animal makes for its lair, I stumbled back towards the city.
It was only when the outline of the sentry on the palace roof showed clear against the sky that I realised I could not go home. For the first time the true horror of what I had done broke upon me. I had, all unwittingly, profaned and disrupted the most sacred rite of the Goddess. The Holy Marriage remained unconsummated. I wondered why it was that the whole gathering was not combing the hillsides for the offender. What my punishment would be I could not guess, any more than I could comprehend why I had been chosen as the Bridegroom. I only knew that whatever ill might now befall my people must be laid upon my head.
I was shivering now, and my wounds throbbed in the cold air. I turned away from the palace and slunk like a wolf towards the town. Only the animal instinct to find refuge kept my limbs from folding under me. I remembered that Alectryon had a house on the edge of the city. Some remnant of honour warned me that I did him an ill service to involve him in my downfall, but my need was imperative. The main entrance was locked and barred, the servants asleep and everyone else away on the Holy Mountain. I circled round to the olive groves behind the house and scaled the low garden wall. Like most houses, all the windows at ground floor level looked into the central courtyard but above my head there was one balcony, built to catch the breeze from the hills, and near it a pleached fig tree grew against the wall. With my last strength I scrambled up the branches and fell into the room.
The light of the moon showed me a large chamber and, on the opposite wall, a bed spread with richly woven covers. As I had guessed, this was Alectryon’s bedroom. I dragged myself across the floor and crept under the blanket. At once my nose was filled with the faint, unmistakable perfume of the oil that he habitually used after the bath. A wave of yearning swept me and helpless tears soaked his pillow. Then unconsciousness claimed me.
A very short time later, it seemed, I was woken by the light of a lamp being shone on my face. I started up with a cry but Alectryon’s hand went fi
rmly across my mouth to silence me. He put down the lamp and laid me back on the pillow.
‘Thanks be to the lord Poseidon. I prayed you would have the sense to come here, but I was afraid they would catch you in the cave.’
I seized his arm and clung to it.
‘What is happening?’
‘Nothing. You are safe for the moment.’
‘But the others … my father …?’
‘He is still at the banquet. I slipped away as soon as I could without being noticed.’
I gazed up at him dazedly. ‘The banquet? But… how can they hold the banquet? The … the holy rite … was never performed.
He laid a hand on my shoulder and said, ‘Hush. Only a few know that… your father and the priests who stood near him. When the torches were lit your father had the presence of mind to raise the cry of rejoicing. Karpathia said nothing and if the rest thought it strange that the Bridegroom should have disappeared so quickly, they did not doubt that the marriage had been consummated. I should have guessed nothing, except that I saw who it was that fled.’
‘But don’t people think it strange that I am not at the feast?’ I asked.
‘Your father told everyone that the oracle had bidden you to spend the night in prayer and fasting. He made it seem a special sign of favour from the Goddess.’
Relief drained the last resistance out of me and my tears flowed again. Alectryon stroked the hair back from my face and spoke soothingly, like a nurse to a frightened child. Then he fetched water and carefully washed my wounds. Finally he covered me warmly and said, ‘Try to sleep. You are quite safe and there is no more to be done until morning.’
I reached for his hand and gripped it.
‘How could I have done it, Alectryon? No-one told me that my sister has to represent the Goddess.’
He sighed and said quietly, ‘I do not understand how you came to be chosen. There is something amiss here. But we will speak of it in the morning. Try to sleep now.’
I closed my eyes and drifted into an uneasy doze that deepened slowly into a profound sleep. He told me later it was almost dawn before I loosed my hold on him.
Chapter 4.
The sun was high when I woke and I was alone. Every movement seemed to set up a jab of pain somewhere in my body. I lay still, trying to order my thoughts: but my only consciousness seemed to be in my senses, where two memories burned like a brand – Karpathia’s body in my arms, and the hands tearing my flesh.
A step outside the door brought me to my elbow ready for flight, but it was Alectryon who entered. He came swiftly to the bed and sat down beside me. ‘Good morning, prince. I am sorry you woke alone, but I had to see your father to tell him you were safe.’
‘What did he say?’
‘He is thankful for your safety but profoundly disturbed by what has happened. He thinks it best you should remain hidden today. Meanwhile, he will consult with the Chief Priest and your sister as to how the Goddess may be placated. Also, he bade me ask you how you came to be the Chosen One. Was it by some Divine prompting, or was some more earthly agency responsible?’
I looked away, not knowing how to speak of what had happened. Seeing my distress he added, ‘First you must eat something. Then we will talk.”
He went to the door and I heard him speak to someone outside. When he returned I said, ‘Your servants know that I am here?’
‘No, only Dexeus, and he is completely faithful.'
Dexeus came in, carrying a tray, which he put down on a low table by the bed. Then he knelt and kissed my hand, saying, ‘I beg the Prince to believe that he may depend on me entirely.’
Alectryon smiled at him. ‘It is well said, Dexeus, and the Prince will remember it. Go now, and make sure no-one else comes in here.’
The tray held a cup of goat’s milk, bread and figs and a small cup of wine. The thought of food repelled me but Alectryon made me taste it and when I did so I realised I had not eaten properly for three days. I managed to swallow a good deal more than I had thought possible to begin with.
When I had eaten he said, ‘Now, I must ask you again how it was that you were led to that couch last night.’
I caught his eye and saw that he guessed, at least in part, what had happened. This made it easier to speak and I told him the whole story. He listened in silence and then said with a sigh, ‘It is very strange and I am at a loss to understand it. The woman must have known what might occur if you recognised your sister. How could she have dared to risk profaning the sacred rite – unless it was by express order of the Goddess?’ I shook my head miserably and he went on, ‘It is useless to trouble our brains. These questions are not for us to answer. If it was the will of the Lady we must seek to know how we may avert Her anger. If not, the punishment will surely fall upon the handmaiden who betrayed Her rites. Either way, we must wait to hear what your father decides when he knows your story. For today, you must rest.’
So I spent the day lying on his bed, sometimes sleeping, sometimes gazing blankly at the ceiling while the shadows of the fig tree outside the window moved across it as the hours dragged past. Alectryon came and went, spending as much time with me as his duties would permit. Then, towards evening, he returned after a longer absence.
‘I have been with your father. The Chief Priest has consulted the Goddess by all the rites of divination. You must present yourself before Her at dawn tomorrow.’
‘To what end?’ I could feel myself beginning to tremble.
‘I do not know. I am bidden to take you, at first light, to the Holy Mountain. Then you must go alone to the Sacred Cave. Your father will be there to meet you and the Goddess will make known Her will concerning you.’
I gazed past him, my mind full of a blank, cold terror, and whispered, ‘I fear Her curse is already upon me.’
He gripped my shoulder and said, ‘No, Alkmaion! Your intentions were innocent. You must not give way to despair.’
I looked at him. ‘I spoke against Her the other morning on the Mountain. You warned me, remember? But I forgot to send the sacrifice.’
His eyes held mine for a long moment. Then he said gently, ‘Nevertheless, Her anger may yet be appeased. Take courage. Let us eat and then sleep, and forget tomorrow until it comes.’
He called Dexeus and ordered food to be brought for both of us, then instructed him to take his lyre and play while we ate.
After the meal I stirred myself from my despair enough to say, ‘I have already kept you from your bed for one night. It would be ungrateful of me to do so again.’
He gave me one of his long, quiet looks and then said, ‘As to that, you are welcome to my bed. Besides, I cannot let you sleep elsewhere without the risk of the servants finding out that you are here. And for the same reason I cannot sleep elsewhere myself. I will have Dexeus make up a bed for me on the floor in here, if you will permit it.’
I blushed, for I knew what was in both our minds. ‘Let me sleep on the floor.’
He smiled. ‘It is generous of you, but I think my limbs are in better condition to sleep hard than yours tonight.’
Dexeus laid a fleece and some blankets on the floor beside me and then withdrew. In spite of a day of complete idleness I found myself already drowsy again. Half asleep, I watched Alectryon prepare for bed. At length he came and stood over me, the light from the lamp in his hand turning the ringlets on his shoulder to amber.
‘Goodnight, prince, sleep well.’
I put out my hand to him. It occurred to me that there was one simple way to pay my debts. ‘We could share the bed …’
He shook his head. ‘Not tonight. Believe me, the offer is tempting – but I do not expect you to pay for your lodging.’
I began to protest, but he shook his head again and lay down on his makeshift couch.
Alectryon roused me while it was still dark. Outside, Dexeus had already unbarred the gate and yoked the horses to the chariot. I had trembled when Alectryon drove me to Pakijanes for my initiation, but my fear then was as no
thing compared with the chill terror that now possessed me and no words of comfort from him could touch me. We parted almost without speaking, save that when I was a few paces from the chariot I turned back to him.
‘Prince?’
‘I am thinking that this may be the last time we see each other.’
I turned away before he could answer and went hastily across the bridge.
My father was waiting outside the Sacred Cave. I knelt before him in silence and he laid his hand upon my bowed head.
‘This is a grave misfortune to have fallen upon our House, Alkmaion. We must try now to discover whether it has been brought upon us by human or Divine will. Come!’
He led me into the cave and the smell turned me sick with recollected panic. We penetrated deeper into its recesses than I had ever done before, until we reached a heavy screen of hides that hid the innermost chamber, the abode of the Goddess Herself. The walls here were smeared with red paint, the colour of blood in the torchlight. Before the screen sat Karpathia, statue-still in her ceremonial robes, and at her side stood the Chief Priest.
My father turned to me. ‘Alkmaion, we have heard from Alectryon what passed between you and the woman Eritha. Let me hear it again from your own lips.’
My voice came faint and hoarse but I told the story, holding nothing back. When I had finished my father said, ‘We have heard Alkmaion’s story. Now let the woman speak.’
Karpathia appeared to rouse herself from some profound depths. ‘Let her be brought before us.’
Her voice must have carried to those waiting in the shadowy recesses of the cave for a moment later Eritha was brought forward between two of her attendants. In the light of the torches her eyes gleamed like a wild thing’s. Karpathia signed to the attendants and they left us.
My father said, ‘You have heard what the prince has said. Do you deny any part of it?’
‘Why should I?’
‘Then tell us, was it at the order of the Goddess that you led him to the sacred couch, or was it for some reason of your own?’
