by Tilly Greene
As if it was slow motion, he watched Brontes pick up an empty box and toss in a handful of green stones, and Agres added some smaller white and yellow ones. They’d picked up what he’d been looking at except for the gold chunks and so he added them with a few of the wires.
Their woman celebrated nature and what they held represented all four of them. All they had to do was make it look beautiful and elegant like her.
Chapter Two
“It’s quiet today and none of the temple leaders are here, which is unusual. Everyone must be resting before celebrating Spring’s arrival tonight. I don’t feel right just standing around so, if it’s all right with you ladies, I think I’ll go outside and follow the path back to the party site and gather fallen branches into a pile. We can use them as a base for the bonfire.” Cyra made the suggestion to the other women who were working with her at Dionysus’s temple.
Normally, the place was busy with people stopping by to leave an offering for the god of wine and theater, and if they could, do some chores as well. Apparently, everything changed once people heard Dionysus would be present for the festival.
When she’d first started following the patron deity of agriculture, she’d done so with total commitment for her family’s survival. Back then, Dionysus meant everything to her. The day she’d chosen to step deeper into learning and following his mysterious rites, was when she’d given her life over to him.
Some called her a maenad because of her devotion and she’d never bothered to correct them, although technically she hadn’t been one. The life she’d set up for herself as a loyal worshipper had been perfect for her and then she did a favor for Hephaestus, and everything had changed.
Without realizing it had happened, the god she’d given her support to had been pushed to the side of her heart, and she felt bad. Dionysus saved her family, kept them from starving and while she still felt thanks, she no longer felt comfortable going to the lengths she used to go to prove her dedication to him. It was because of Brontes, Agres, and Steropes, the men who held her heart, body, and soul.
She was sure they were at the root of the change and she needed to figure out what she should do next. They’d never mentioned love or a future together, although she assumed that hadn’t happened because, like her, their glorious sex life had held their attention. Some time alone to think about the future would do her a world of good, as would the physical labor.
“You’re right. Even though none of us have ever organized any of the annual events, we have attended. We can manage to do some things until help arrives. I do know we’re always short of candles and will work on that.” One of the other women offered, while fussing with her peplos.
“And I’ll see how we’re looking for jars to drink from and carry the wine around to serve. Most people bring their own kylix, but it wouldn’t be right not to have some here.” Another piped up while looking toward the back of the temple where the temples storeroom, the opisthdomos, was located.
“I’m going to check out the snakes. I seem to think we didn’t have many left from the last festival. If that’s true, then I’ll go out on the hillside and down to the valley to collect some more.” Filla was a nymph and her friend made the offer.
Knowing her as well as she did, Cyra wasn’t surprised about her volunteering to gather more snakes. It was a task she always offered to do because it meant she had a reason to walk the hills and valleys. Maybe later, when they were both done with their chosen task, they could catch up with each other’s lives. They hadn’t seen each other in more than a few months and lots had happened.
“Everyone bring their fawn skins and thyrsus? I already set up a work table out front by the ivy to work on wreaths and repair any thyrsus’ that need mending.” The lady who offered to handle the task was older than the rest of them and an actual maenad. Cyra found her a kind of scary and it was because she knew exactly how far the woman went during the celebrations. At the end of the night, the blood around her mouth and on her hands would not be hers.
“Good, it sounds like we all have something to focus on until lunch. We’ll meet up back here then and see where we stand.” She was pleased the others had voiced jobs they could do. Their being busy meant she was guaranteed some time to herself to think.
She walked through the cella, past the large statue of Dionysus placed there for worshipping, and finally out the main doors.
There were quite a few offerings the wind had shifted away from the columns and she walked around, straightening them, so visitors had a clear path into the temple. Their naos was older and not in the best condition, but it was well loved. Most people in the area relied on the land surrounding their homes to yield a good crop during harvest time, like the one they’d just experienced. Events like the one they prepared for were there to ensure the god of wine knew he was appreciated for his help.
Before she’d finished clearing the path of offerings, Teha, the maenad, joined her on the porch. Cyra could see the table she’d mentioned set up beneath a tree off to the side and covered with all the things she’d need. Discomfort with a person didn’t mean she would be rude and pretend she wasn’t there, and so she turned and smiled at her fellow devotee.
“Not too long ago a couple of men fixed the outdoor stage and then placed the remaining wood planks for the bonfire in the rear section. I’ll clear the path there and the space immediately around it so there’s no chance of the flames burning beyond our boundaries and endangering the worshippers.”
“Things aren’t right. It shouldn’t be so calm on a festival day. Something bad is going to happen, I can feel it in my bones.”
“Well then, it’s for us to stay calm, and make sure we set everything up right so nothing unexpected happens.” She’d found a calm existence with her men and just a hint of the excessive ecstasy that circled around Dionysus and his followers no longer felt comfortable. It seemed like a cape was smothering her and she’d die if she didn’t step back.
“There’s something different about you, Cyra. I’m not sure what it is, but you aren’t the same woman. You haven’t been here lately and no one knows where you’re staying. You’re up to no good, I can feel it in my bones.”
“Come on, Teha, let’s focus on our duties and ensure our beloved lord wants for nothing tonight.” She hoped her words and calm demeanor were enough to discourage the woman so they could get back to the tasks they’d volunteered to do.
As if the god was watching over her, Filla joined them, and whether it was intentional or not, rescued her from the maenad’s focused interest.
“Let’s get to work, ladies. Our list is long and won’t grow any shorter by standing around chatting. Cyra, I’ll help you clear the path as far as the one I need to take over the hill and down to the valley.” Thankfully, her friend knew her well enough to see she wasn’t in a mood for the erratic behavior of the older woman.
“And where have you been, young nymph? No one’s seen you since the last event and that isn’t good, I can feel—”
“Teha, as I clear the path, I’ll set aside anything that could be used as the pole of a thyrsus. There’s always someone who forgets to bring their own. And, don’t forget, men are now allowed to attend and they often don’t carry one with them, although want one as the evening progresses.”
“Men shouldn’t be allowed to attend. The Great Dionysian events belong to us women only. I don’t see why they’d want to come, but I’m sure Dionysus has his reasons for being so generous. He’d never do anything wrong, I can feel it in my bones. Cyra, go ahead and set them to the side of the path, and then you can bring them back with you. If I end up with time to make more, I can easily find them.” The other woman walked over to her table and started weaving wreaths of ivy for the women to wear.
“Thank you, my dear friend. I needed to be rescued from Teha and her bones,” she confessed as they made their way down the main path and then on to the one that led down the side of the temple.
They walked slowly, picki
ng up larger branches and sticks along the way, and set down the bundles when they grew large. As there was quite a bit of fallen wood to collect, Cyra decided she’d come back for them once she’d determined the preparation status of the bonfire. It may give her more work, but she was fine with that. She looked forward to the time to talk with Filla.
The first thing she wanted to find out was what she’d been up to.
“No one can hear us here. Tell me, where have you been?”
“Teha was right. At the last event, I connected with a satyr, and he took me up into the mountains on the coast to his place. He did the most amazing things too me and with me. I never wanted to leave, but he brought me back for the big spring festival.”
“Everything all right?” Cyra knew that while Cyclopes were considered mean giants, the satyrs were generally viewed as harmless, although led by their cocks. She would hate to hear her friend had experienced anything other than pleasure with the satyr. Her friend definitely deserved the very best life had to offer, because it hadn’t been all that kind to her yet.
“Better than all right and you can meet him later tonight. I told him all about my friend and he’s looking forward to meeting you.” Filla was almost skipping down the path she was so happy, although the comment brought something to mind that she needed to set straight immediately.
“I adore you, Filla, but I won’t participate in a ménage with your satyr.”
“We have before,” the other woman claimed with a giggle.
“Yes, but it’s obvious that he means something to you, and that changes everything for me.” When it came to the heart being involved, sex was different. There was no way she’d be able to share her lovers with anyone. Even if she was no longer with them, she couldn’t watch them with another woman.
“Okay, I can’t believe I’m saying this, but Teha was right. You have changed. What did she mean when she said you hadn’t been around? That isn’t like you, unless you’ve found someone special as well. I know you haven’t been looking for anyone, but isn’t that when you find someone?”
Looking over her shoulder, Cyra figured no one was close enough to hear them, and decided to confide in her friend. It might help her to figure the mess that was her love life if someone else heard the details. She was too involved to feel like she could make any type of decision and it was time one was made.
After taking a deep breath, she kept walking and picking up branches, and let it all come out.
“It’s a bit of a mess, but the basics are that I’m in love with three Cyclopes. They haven’t told me how they feel about me or if they want to take it beyond the sex. By the way, the sex is incredible. I’ve been spending so much time with them, learning and enjoying their individuality that I haven’t spent time here at the temple. My loyalty to our beloved Dionysus is being overtaken by my love for them and they aren’t even asking for it. I don’t know what to think anymore, Filla. Is my passion leading me astray?”
“Cyclopes?” Setting her latest bundle of sticks down, Cyra turned to look at her friend, and discovered she appeared surprised by her confession. The whisper was also a good indication of how unexpected her declaration had been. The other woman must believe their rumored reputations were true and yet she knew they weren’t, at least not for Brontes, Agres, and Steropes.
“Yes, maybe my three are different from the other giants, but they aren’t mean like people believe. They work with Hephaestus, god of the forge. Maybe being around important immortals and humans gentled them, but all I see are kind and tender men who would do anything for me. They also happen to be beautiful, inside and out.”
“Beautiful? Cyclopes?” Filla didn’t sound convinced of how she felt about her men, but she kept talking, no longer caring if she understood her desire for them or not.
They’d made it around to the back of the temple where the path meandered past the stage and eventually ended in the circle kept for external ceremonies and celebrations. Large stones had been brought in to act as seating and were also used for sex. In the circle rested a pile of wooden planks, ready to be the centerpiece for the festival.
Looking around the space, Cyra was reminded of the various people she’d been with on the same rocks and none of it had meant anything to her. Being with her lovers meant everything to her and an image of them flashed before her eyes. They were naked, light brown hair tousled, muscles straining and she wanted them.
Stopping on the path, she turned to Filla, and told her what was on her mind.
“Oh yes. They possess the finest forms I’ve ever seen on a living being. It’s from all the hard physical labor they do. Tall, broad shoulders, slim hipped, and packed with muscles. Did you know, other than their heads, they have no hair on them? They take it all off as a precaution to being around the blazing fires. Look at me? I just have to think of their fine forms and gorgeous single eyes focused entirely on me, and my body prepares itself for them.”
Cyra ran her free hand across her breast and the hard tipped nipple marking its excitement, over her stomach, and ended by lightly cupping her pussy through her peplos. “Just thinking about them and I’m panting with need for them and their touch.”
“But they’re cruel a—”
“They aren’t, but tell me the truth. Do you think I’ve made a mistake giving my heart to them?” Cyra felt the tears start to gather and prepare to spill down her cheeks.
It wasn’t what she wanted to believe, but maybe she did have blinders on when it came to her Cyclopes. Life was about more than being sexually gratified and they did offer her more than that. They made her feel complete as a woman and as if all her hopes and dreams for the future were possible. Except her heart was breaking because they didn’t claim her as she wanted them to.
“Hold on, don’t make any rash decisions yet. Let me get over my shock at hearing you have fallen in love with a Cyclops. Sorry, three Cyclopes. That’s big news that can’t be glossed over. It was three, right?”
“Brontes, Agres, and Steropes. They add the thunder, brightening, and flashing to the bolts Hephaestus builds for Zeus.”
“I’ve heard of them and know they’re very important to the immortals.”
“Yes, they are, and the work they do is dangerous. I worry about all of them.”
“I’m sorry, Cyra, I allowed my prejudices to overwhelm me, but I did listen to every word you said. I think you answered your own question. They’re a part of you. Your heart resides in their hands. You can’t walk away from that and remain whole.”
“But they haven’t asked me to stay either.”
“Maybe they need more time to figure out what they’re feeling. I imagine they haven’t experienced much love in their lives and don’t know what it is or what to do with it.”
“You could be right, Filla. However, there’s another problem. While one side of me is blissfully happy, the other feels like I’m betraying Dionysus.”
“Let me see if I have this right. You’ve been busy falling in love and haven’t shown up here to help around the naos. Trust me, my friend, that isn’t being disloyal, that’s called having a life. Up until now, you gave yourself to the god of wine and theater in recognition for your family’s survival, and they have. It’s time for you to live for yourself. You’re here for the celebration and can renew your appreciation to Dionysus tonight, but you don’t have to give your life over to him. Like Teha, I think that’s taking devotion to a god too far.”
“You’re right, my friend. Since I met my men, I haven’t spared much thought for him, and I feel a great deal of guilt over that remission. Remember, it was here that I dedicated my life to serving him and his followers, and I failed.”
“The god known for parties and merriment wouldn’t hold your finding happiness against you.”
“Maybe.” Despite the talking it through with her friend, she decided she was no better off for it.
It wasn’t the other woman’s fault, because nothing had changed. She still felt guilty for abandoning
her god and while she wanted to stay with her lovers, they’d given her no sign that they wanted anything more than to keep her around for sex. That had been fine for a period of time, only they’d made her want more from their relationship. If they weren’t willing to make more of a commitment then she’d cut her losses and leave.
Picking up a few more branches, Cyra realized she’d been wrong, something had changed, and it was her.
Being with the brothers had opened her eyes to see there was more to her life than devoting it to Dionysus. While she wanted to be with the brothers, if they didn’t want to be with her, she’d find her way through the pain, and be thankful for what they had given her.
Cyra had an awareness of what life had to offer her. With peace of mind established, she dived back into the essence of the day. It was going to be a celebration of life and she was ready to enjoy.
“Come on, let’s get all our chores done, and start partying.”
Chapter Three
The sun had set, dancing had turned frenetic, and the debauchery had begun in earnest.
Cyra looked around at the celebrants to ensure no one lacked for anything. As yet, she hadn’t felt the urge to jump into the center of the festivities as she normally would, instead she stood back and took in the celebration from a different view. From the very start of the event, it had become obvious she didn’t want to be there, but stayed for a chance to speak with Dionysus.
She couldn’t turn her back on him, not when he had done so much for her and her family. Something had changed in her and, whether she stayed with the brothers or not, giving her life to the god of wine wasn’t enough for her. Not any longer.
At the start of the event, she’d been busy supplying wine to everyone as they arrived, but hadn’t bothered to partake herself. That was a first for her and the reason was simple. Wine wasn’t something she wanted.
Another thing that told her she was no longer able to involve herself as a disciple should was that, while she had put a wreath on her head, the fawn skin and thyrsus Teha tried to give her were ignored. The older woman hadn’t been happy about it and she’d felt her staring daggers into her ever since. Ignoring the anger was easy because it was the first time she’d been able to take in all aspects of the annual festival with a clear view and it was entrancing in a terrifying way.
