The scrivener beamed at her as if she were his star pupil. “I just knew you were paying attention. Erik didn’t think so, but I was sure of it!”
“The flood.” She flashed back to their conversation overlooking the Bosporus. “Didn’t you say the Black Sea flooded around 5600 BCE?”
“Quite right.”
“There is a very strong possibility that a connection exists between the flood and the abandonment of the site,” Ozgur concurred. “The Arkana is still trying to find evidence to support the theory, but it seems very likely that some refugees from the deluge wandered in this direction.”
“Did your team find any sign that there was a battle here?”
“There is some evidence of fire at the topmost layer of the dig but nothing conclusive,” the trove keeper replied.
“There’s a lot more evidence of disruption at Hacilar,” offered Fred. “That’s another Neolithic settlement about a hundred miles southwest of here. We know that Hacilar was destroyed by fire and when it was rebuilt, there was a wall around it.”
“Overlord invaders?” Cassie guessed.
“I believe it was a bit too early for that,” Griffin countered. “More likely it was roving bands of refugees, looting and pillaging on a small scale just to meet their immediate needs. There was no indication of organized military activity until much later, but the Anatolian plateau definitely shows signs of destabilization around the mid-sixth millennium.”
“For the first time, dead bodies which had suffered violence, mainly children, were found in the burned debris at Hacilar,” Ozgur said softly.
“Whether it was overlord culture or not,” Cassie observed, “it sounds like the beginning of the end to me.”
Aydin Ozgur silently turned and led the others away from the dig site.
Chapter 14 – The Lady and the Lions
The trove keeper carefully retraced his steps along the rim and over the gravel path leading back to the site building. His companions followed in silence. When the old man reached the office, he motioned for the others to precede him inside. “Come in, please, and rest yourselves.”
They filed in cautiously, not wanting to knock him off balance by rushing through the door. It was sweltering inside. Even though the windows were open, the only air flow was provided by a tired ceiling fan. The papers on Ozgur’s desk wafted listlessly in the artificial breeze.
Cassie looked around the room. There was a desk, several chairs, and benches for visitors and metal filing cabinets everywhere. On the floor in the corners, boxes of rocks and other small objects were stacked.
“I’m sorry we have no proper reception room,” the trove keeper apologized. “May I offer you coffee or tea?”
The three visitors drew chairs around the desk and waited patiently while Fred assisted Ozgur in preparing refreshments.
Cassie had asked for coffee, but she wasn’t ready for the strong sweet concoction when she took her first sip. “Now I know why it’s served in a tiny little cup. This carries quite a kick, doesn’t it?”
Her companions grinned knowingly.
“Turkish coffee is very strong,” Aydin agreed. “It is always brewed with sugar and cardamom.”
“It’s really good,” Cassie reassured him, taking another sip, “but no refills for me, thank you.”
Erik and Griffin had opted for tea which was served Russian-style in tall glasses instead of cups. They were all too polite to ask for something cold to drink.
“How are you getting on with the team that’s running the expedition?” Griffin asked, blowing on his tea to cool it down.
Fred grimaced.
Aydin interpreted his look. “We don’t rock the boat as you would say. A man named Percival who is on the lead team seems to be trying very hard to disprove the conclusions of James Mellaart, the original discoverer of the site. Based on what he found here, Mellaart believed that Catal Huyuk was a matristic culture which worshipped a female deity.”
“Let me guess. Your buddy Percival isn’t thrilled with that idea?” Erik asked sarcastically.
“He’s doing everything but stand on his head to show that it was just your average overlord culture,” Fred said in disgust. “I especially get a kick out of his interpretation of the bull horns.”
“But surely, he’s seen the mural you just showed us,” Griffin objected.
“Nope, not yet.” Fred gave a laugh. “We just finished cleaning it up yesterday. I can’t wait to see the look on his face when we do.”
While his assistant was speaking, Ozgur walked out of the room to retrieve something from the back-storage area. He returned with a figurine about as big as a man’s hand and placed it gently on the front of his desk. It was a stone carving of a very obese naked woman seated on a throne and resting her forearms on the backs of two lionesses who stood on either side of her.
“That lady could use a tread climber!” Cassie exclaimed.
Erik chuckled.
“Fatness was once viewed as a sign of abundance,” the trove keeper observed. “It would have been considered a desirable trait.”
Griffin moved his chair closer to get a better look. “Oh, I say, she is remarkable.”
“We found this statue in a grain storage bin in one of the shrine rooms,” Ozgur said. “Many similar female figures have been found throughout the site, but the conventional theory is that these are fertility figurines.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?” Cassie was puzzled.
Fred raised his eyebrows. “That’s what I’d like to know. Overlord archaeologists like Percival are falling all over themselves to say a bunch of horns are symbols of male divinity, but a statue like this gets explained away as a stone age lucky charm because it popped out of a cereal box.”
“Oh, she’s far more than that,” Griffin said, turning the base of the object slightly. “The composition suggests she is a potnia theron.”
“I know you said potnia means something like lady or goddess,” Cassie remarked.
“Very good,” Griffin said encouragingly. “You see, Erik. I told you she wasn’t hopeless.”
“I didn’t say that exactly,” Erik demurred.
“No, I believe you said something about a brain like a sieve,” the scrivener reminded him offhandedly, still entranced by the statue.
Cassie shot the security coordinator a reproachful look.
“Sorry, toots.” His grin was almost sheepish. “I take it all back.”
The pythia raised her chin defiantly and continued her earlier question. “Then what does theron mean?”
“Potnia theron would translate to something like Lady of the Animals or Goddess of the Wild Creatures,” Griffin explained. “It’s a concept that echoes all the way back to the Venus of Laussel some twenty thousand years ago. Gatherer-hunters worshipped the goddess as one who kept all living things in balance. She multiplied all life—both animal and human, hence her ample dimensions.”
Cassie scrutinized the statue in puzzlement. “But why is she sitting next to lions? Isn’t that a really odd choice? There aren’t any wild lions in Turkey.”
“Not anymore.” Ozgur’s tone was wistful. “They were hunted to extinction in this country in the 1800s. The Asiatic lion once roamed as far west as the Balkans. Now the few that remain are confined to a very small region in India.”
“Overlords couldn’t resist killing them,” Fred interjected. “They didn’t present that much of a threat to livestock, so it was mainly bragging rights over a trophy kill.”
“That’s disturbing,” Cassie said.
“That’s overlord culture,” Erik commented succinctly.
Ozgur regarded the figurine closely. “While it is true that the idea of the potnia theron originated in the ancient past, this particular figure also persists well into historic times. Much as my colleagues try to deny that she is a deity, this little statue is the embodiment of the Goddess Cybele.”
“Who’s she?”
“The great mother goddess of Anatolia. During the classical age, she was the most significant deity in all of Asia Minor. You are, in fact, going to her principal place of worship on Mount Ida.”
“But how do you know it’s the same goddess?” Cassie persisted. “The classical age didn’t start until thousands of years after this statue was carved.”
“Because Cybele is always depicted with lions,” Griffin jumped in. “She is either shown driving a chariot pulled by lions or seated on a throne between two lions. There are statues carved in Rome as late as the second century of our current era that show her in exactly the same pose as this figurine.”
“The Romans, haughty overlords that they were, did not mistake Cybele for a mere fertility symbol,” Ozgur observed. “To them, she was the Magna Mater. They respected her power and prayed for her assistance,”
“The Sybilline prophecy,” Griffin said cryptically. “Of course.”
Cassie and Erik exchanged a blank look. Erik shrugged.
Griffin continued speaking, half to himself. “When Hannibal was on the verge of invading Rome around 200 CE, one of the Sybilline oracles predicted that the only way the Romans could defeat their enemy would be to bring the goddess to Rome.”
“How do you bring a goddess anywhere?” Cassie asked.
“Do you recall what I told you about baetyls? They are meteor rocks that are believed to be the seat of a deity. One such baetyl was housed in the ancient city of Pessinus. It was the largest iron meteorite in the known world. Over sixteen feet high and weighing several hundred tons, it was believed to be the personification of the goddess Cybele. The Romans negotiated to have the baetyl moved to Rome. They took the prophecy so seriously that they commissioned a magnificent temple to be built for it, right on the top of Vatican Hill.”
“What!” Cassie felt shocked.
Griffin laughed. “That’s right. Directly under Saint Peter’s Basilica rests the remains of Cybele’s temple. In fact, Bernini’s baldacchino, a huge bronze canopy in the present church, is said to have been inspired by the design of the pagan structure.”
“Cybele became the state deity of the Romans. She was venerated everywhere.” Ozgur gave a slight smile. “Unfortunately, the Romans were less accepting of her devotees.”
Cassie stared at the trove keeper blankly.
“He’s referring to the galli,” Griffin explained. “Cybele’s transgender priestesses. Each year, in late-March, on what was called the day of blood, men who wished to attain the rank of priestess castrated themselves and thereafter dressed as women.”
“Hope they were drunk when they did it.” Erik grimaced.
“In all probability, they were,” Griffin agreed. “The cult of Cybele is a mystery religion which relies on ecstatic communion with the divine. Various hallucinogenic and intoxicating substances would have been a standard part of religious ceremonies.”
“You were saying the Romans had a problem with these guys or gals or whatever?’ the pythia asked.
“They passed laws prohibiting any Roman citizen from becoming a gallus,” Ozgur explained. “Though in later years, a citizen could substitute the sacrifice of a bull and its genitalia for his own in a ritual called the tauroboleum.”
“Craziness,” Cassie commented, shaking her head in disbelief.
“Actually, most of the early goddess religions were quite tolerant of transgender worshippers,” the scrivener pointed out. “Cross-dressing didn’t become a problem until overlord cultures, and especially the Christian Church, actively persecuted such individuals.”
“Why doesn’t anybody know about all this?” the pythia asked of nobody in particular.
Ozgur picked up the goddess figurine contemplatively. “Once upon a time, everyone knew. Now we have forgotten and need to be reminded of just how ancient and universal the worship of this type of deity was. It echoes backward in time and spans countries around the globe. This image of a woman flanked by lions is repeated in myths around the world of goddesses so old that they are always referred to as the mother of the gods. In Egypt, it was the lion-headed goddess Sekhmet. In Minoa, it was Rhea. In Mesopotamia, it was Ishtar. In India, it was Durga who is called the Mother of the Universe. Even in remote Scandinavia, it was Freya whose chariot is drawn by two cats. This far-flung distribution suggests how very old this image of the goddess really is. Her presence is so all-pervasive that overlord mythology had no choice but to find a way to assimilate her.”
“And in spite of all that, the archaeologists in charge of this dig are stumped by what this statue is?” Cassie felt incredulous.
Ozgur smiled. “You must remember that they are approaching this project like scientists with microscopes. Sometimes in the process of studying the details of a subject, one can lose sight of the larger picture. They have no context for understanding this image.”
“I hope you set them straight,” the pythia insisted.
“One day perhaps they will be ready to listen. For now, it’s enough that we know what we know.” He paused for a moment, considering something, then he held the statue out to Cassie. “Perhaps you could tell us more about her.”
The pythia hesitated.
Griffin and Erik glanced worriedly at one another.
“Are you sure it isn’t tainted?” Erik asked Ozgur.
“Not so far as we know,” the trove keeper replied.
Cassie touched the pendant around her neck which Faye had given her. In case the object did have any disturbing associations, she would be able to ground herself. Wrapping her left hand around the pendant stone, she held out her right to receive the statue.
The room went dark. She was in a box, or she guessed that was how one of the Catal Huyuk rooms would have felt with walls and a roof overhead. The only light came from a fire burning in a corner of the room with its smoke funneling upwards through a hole in the roof. The atmosphere was so thick it almost made her choke. The air reeked with the acrid odor of smoke and unwashed human bodies. There were voices chanting behind her. They made a droning sound. Her consciousness settled in a thick-set, middle-aged woman who was kneeling in front of a freshly dug pit in the floor. Inside the pit, a small skeleton lay on its side in a fetal position. The remains of a child of about two. There were bracelets of blue stone around its wrists.
A little storage chest filled with grain rested on the floor by the woman’s knees. She held the goddess figurine in front of her as she murmured a prayer for renewal. She placed the goddess inside the chest with the grain and closed the lid. Cassie could feel her invoking the goddess to transform the child who had been placed in the earth just as she transformed the seeds of grain into stalks of wheat. That which was planted would grow. This little one would change form in the body of the goddess and be reborn in the Otherland. The priestess sprinkled red powder over the bones. Then she sat back on her heels and bowed her head.
Cassie blinked. She returned to the present. The pythia laughed at the tense expression that her teammates wore. “Relax, guys. This one wasn’t too bad.” She then told them what she had witnessed. “I’m not sure what the red powder was though.”
“It would have been red ochre,” Griffin answered. “It was used in the burial practices of many ancient cultures. It symbolized the blood of life. The belief that the earth mother would give new life to the deceased.”
“Transmutation? Resurrection? Hmmm. Seems to me that sort of power is a little beyond the paygrade of a mere fertility figure, don’t you think?” Fred asked archly.
“Sure sounds like it to me,” Erik concurred.
“Too bad we can’t just trot out the pythia to end the great debate with Percival,” Fred commented. “It could save a lot of time.”
Ozgur gave a fleeting smile. “You must know he wouldn’t believe her.” He turned his attention to Cassie, and his expression became serious. “I am very grateful to you for the additional insight into our artifact. Thank you.” He inclined his he
ad in a slight bow.
Cassie blushed at being treated so respectfully. She gave a jerky little nod of acknowledgment. “I’m glad I could help.”
Aydin lowered himself into his chair. Looking at each of his guests in turn, he asked, “And now what can we do to help you?”
Gloom settled over Griffin’s features at the question. “Where to begin.”
Erik gave a short laugh. “I think he means that literally. We don’t know where to begin. We’ve got a riddle that tells us to look for a Minoan relic hidden someplace on Mount Ida, but that’s all we know for sure.”
“What is the riddle?” Ozgur settled back in his chair to listen.
Griffin recited the all-too-familiar lines. “You will find the first of five you seek, when the soul of the lady rises with the sun, at the home of the Mountain Mother, where flows the River Skamandros.”
The trove keeper nodded. “Yes, it is clear the riddle refers to Mount Ida.”
“But Griffin’s having trouble with the second line,” Cassie offered helpfully.
The old man stroked his moustache. “’When the soul of the lady rises with the sun.’”
“Do you have any notion what that might mean?” Griffin asked hopefully.
Ozgur shook his head. “Regrettably, no.”
“Then perhaps you can recall seeing symbolic markings somewhere on the ruins that match our key.”
“Your key?” the trove keeper asked.
“Oh, very sorry. I left it in the van. Be right back.” Griffin hastened to retrieve the granite key from his knapsack in the car. When he returned, he handed it to Ozgur.
The trove keeper examined it briefly. “Some of these characters are Linear B. To find Linear B script anywhere outside of Greece would have been a major discovery. I should certainly have remembered.”
“But you wouldn’t have found the Linear B characters here,” Griffin corrected. “You would have found the pictograms to which they correspond.”
The Arkana Mysteries Boxed Set Page 34
