Chants to Persephone: The Future of the World Hangs on a Knife's Edge - and Only a Human Sacrifice Can Save It

by Jennifer Macaire

  I kicked his ankle, the one he’d broken. He yelped. ‘Will you stop it!’ he said. ‘You’re making a spectacle of yourself.’

  ‘I don’t care. You just gave our daughter away in marriage to someone we’ve never seen …’ I broke off with a gasp. ‘And what if he’s much older than she is?’

  ‘A difference in age? You're worried about a difference in age? They can’t be more different than you and I, and we get along fine. Most of the time,’ he added, dodging another kick. ‘Three thousand years is quite a difference, don’t you think? By the way, who’s older? You, or I?’

  ‘You are, you beast.’ I sank down on the steps and cupped my chin in my hands.

  Alexander looked down at me, then smiled broadly. ‘I know what we can do, we can marry her to him when she’s twelve, then we won’t have to worry about her falling in love with anyone else, Hey! Stop kicking me, ouch!’

  Luckily, Plexis drove up then and we climbed into the cart. He touched the horse lightly with the reins and off we trotted. Plexis looked at me, then at Alexander, but didn’t say anything about our thunderous expressions. Instead, he told us all about the marketplace and the news he’d heard, which was similar to what Ptolemy had said. Then he pointed out some graffiti on the walls as we drove by the city gates.

  ‘Do they have graffiti in your time?’ Alexander asked me, most likely hoping to change the subject from Cleopatra's engagement.

  I gave him a look that told him the subject wasn't forgotten or forgiven. ‘In the future? Lots. Mankind has always loved drawing on walls.’

  Plexis was whistling, his hands light on the reins. At the mention of the future, he cocked his head. ‘You never did tell me when you came from,’ he said.

  ‘You were ill for so long,’ I explained. ‘I didn’t want it to be a shock.’

  ‘And now? Can you tell me now?’

  ‘I come from three thousand years in the future,’ I said.

  ‘How? Did the gods send you?’

  ‘No, we have a machine that does it. It’s very complicated to explain.’

  ‘Try me.’ He grinned over his shoulder.

  ‘You won’t understand.’

  ‘Well, you told me about flying machines and chariots that rolled without horses.’

  ‘That’s right,’ I said. ‘And you weren’t even impressed.’

  On the long voyage through the Red Sea, I’d told stories about the future. They had listened with interest, but they had been hearing stories since their childhood about men who flew – the gods flew all the time. And the god of the forge had two robots that spoke and helped him walk. The gods made magical things happen in most tales, and, as I’d discovered, magic and technology seem very similar. My stories had entertained them, but nothing more. This was a wee bit aggravating to someone who came from three thousand years in the future. If I thought I’d impress anyone, I was mistaken.

  Plexis continued, ‘But you didn’t tell me about the machine that pushed you back in time. Why can’t you go back to your own time? Why are you still here? I don’t understand that. Does everyone travel in time? It must be very odd. What if you meet yourself as an old woman or a child? Can one go forward as well?’

  ‘That is against the law,’ I said. ‘No one can go into the future. We can only go to the past. The machine works with lightning and the earth’s magnetic field, and only one person can go at a time.’

  ‘I see.’ Plexis said lightly. ‘So, three thousand years from now, the people still speak of Iskander here? What do they say? That he was a great hero, like Achilles?’

  ‘Oh, much better than Achilles,’ I said seriously.

  ‘Really?’ he cocked an eyebrow. ‘And do they say he was a skinny horny bastard?’

  ‘No, they say that about you,’ said Alexander, chuckling.

  ‘They don’t!’ He looked amused. ‘They don’t say anything about me, I hope.’

  ‘They refer to you as Alexander’s alter ego,’ I said.

  ‘Alter ego?’ He was shocked. ‘How awful. I suppose they also said I died falling off a horse, and I never fell off a horse. Well, maybe once or twice, but nothing serious. It was a polo accident. Do they say that?’

  ‘No, they don’t. Nobody in my time knows how you or Alexander died.’

  Plexis brightened. ‘I don’t care. Just think, I’m known three thousand years from now, and all because I hung around this fellow.’ He dug an elbow into Alexander’s side. ‘What a laugh. I suppose all your generals are famous too, and your trip to India was hailed as a big success.’

  ‘It was,’ said Alexander modestly. ‘They say I united East with West.’

  ‘Nice work. And they realized you were chasing a baby?’

  ‘No, they say nothing about that. They think I did it on purpose.’

  ‘Amazing,’ repeated Plexis. ‘I shall have to get used to being next to such a famous person.’

  ‘Do,’ Alexander said. ‘And while you’re at it, could you please never mention it again, or ask any more questions of Ashley? I hate hearing her answers.’

  We both stared at him. Plexis’s face grew serious when he saw Alexander’s expression. ‘All right,’ he said. ‘I’ll ask no more. I’m sorry. I wasn’t thinking. To me it seems so ridiculously far away.’

  ‘To you, ten years is an eternity,’ said Alexander with a spark of humour.

  ‘That’s true. I never thought I’d live to see my twentieth birthday, and here I am, nearly thirty.’

  ‘You are thirty-one,’ said Alexander.

  ‘See, time has no meaning for me,’ Plexis waved airily.

  ‘It has for me,’ said Alexander. ‘Sometimes it feels as if the very air around me is made of stone and I must struggle to stand up.’

  ‘That’s your melancholy,’ said Plexis. ‘Ever since you were a young boy you’ve been prone to moodiness. It used to drive Aristotle crazy.’

  ‘Perhaps.’ Alexander’s voice was bleak. ‘But you’ve never suffered from it, so I’ll thank you not to mock me.’

  ‘I’m sorry.’ Plexis could sound contrite when he wanted, and soon he had Alexander smiling again as he told him a story he’d heard in the marketplace about two Egyptians, a Persian, and an over-sexed camel.

  We stayed in Memphis for a week; enough time to sort out the treasure that Ptolemy had brought back to Alexander. It was immense: gold statues; bolts of cloth; chalices; enamels; and coins of gold and silver. Alexander put most back. He had never wanted to be rich.

  After beating Darius for the first time, Alexander had entered the royal tent and seen its gold chairs, precious carpets, and silk curtains. ‘So, this is what it’s like to be king,’ he’d said ironically.

  He sent what he needed to his bank account in Alexandria or to Plexis’s house. He also put aside a large amount for Usse as a gift for his wedding. Usse and Chirpa were married in a simple ceremony in the courthouse in Alexandria.

  Alexander, as her godfather, gave Chirpa away. The ceremony went like this:

  ALEXANDER. I give you this woman so you may have legitimate children. Do you take her?

  [All questions are posed to the man., The woman stands next to him and tries to look as demure as possible.]

  USSE. I take this woman.

  ALEXANDER. And I offer you a dowry of three hundred gold talents.

  USSE. That’s too much!

  ALEXANDER [frowning]. Just say yes!

  USSE [stammering]. I accept, with thanks.

  Afterwards we held a banquet and invited our neighbours. We decorated the house with laurel and olive branches, and Paul had the honour of carrying a basket of bread around to all the guests while saying the ritual words, ‘I fled from the dark and found the light.’ – a saying that no one could explain to me, but that everyone said was ‘traditional’. I had to be content with that.

  Chirpa, as befitting her new status as a newly married woman, was showered with gifts: a spinning wheel; a new cloak; some fine wool; a package of precious dye; three baby pigs; an oli
ve tree in a large pot; some new dishes; a rug; and a beautiful bedspread.

  Paul and Chiron were entranced with the baby pigs and played with them all afternoon, until someone left the door open and the piglets ran squealing down the street.

  And that was it. Chirpa and Usse were married. Plexis asked them to stay in his house in Alexandria. Usse got a job working in the new hospital. Chirpa started to manage the household. Then Alexander and I readied ourselves for a trip to see another oracle.

  Alexander wanted to see the temple of Amon in the Siwa oasis. He had been there once before, just before he’d set out on his journey across Asia. Now he wanted to consult it again.

  Chapter Four

  We rode camels across the desert and slept in tents. Axiom and Brazza came with us, and Cleopatra too. The nights were chilly, but the sand beneath us held the warmth of the sun. The only sound we heard at night was the rustle of the wind moving the millions of grains of sand.

  Alexander and I lay beneath the starry sky and spoke in whispers.

  ‘Do you truly believe in the oracle?’ I was interested.

  ‘The last time I went, the oracle said something very strange. I want to go back and ask again.’

  ‘What was so strange?’

  He seemed to hesitate a long time before he replied. ‘The oracle forbade me to tell anyone. But I will tell you this, it said I would be buried in Alexandria.’

  ‘Ten cities carry your name now, and in three thousand years there will be ten times that many.’

  ‘Really?’ he looked pleased, then his face grew serious. ‘The oracle told me I would ask to be buried in Egypt. That’s all I can tell you for now.’ He paused, then said, ‘No, I’ll tell you one more thing. The oracle told me I would die at the age of thirty-two.’

  I was startled. ‘What?’ I cried.

  He looked at me. His immense eyes were half sad, half amused. ‘So you see, I always knew.’

  I shook my head to clear it, and tears flew off my cheeks. I blinked quickly. ‘You always knew?’ I asked, my voice shrill in my tight throat.

  ‘I didn’t want to believe it at first. I was young and rash. I thought I could overcome anything. I felt invincible. Then the oracle told me I would die aged thirty-two. And that I would be buried in Alexandria.’ He sounded apologetic.

  I pulled my covers tighter around my shoulders. Despite the heat radiating off the sand, I felt suddenly chilled to the bone. ‘You never told me that.’

  ‘How could I tell anyone?’ His voice was gentle. ‘When we found Paul in the sacred valley, I nearly spoke to you then. You couldn’t understand why I wanted to leave him behind, but I didn’t know if he would ever be safe with me. The oracle didn’t say how I would die, and if I’d died at the hands of an enemy, you and the children would have been sold into slavery.’

  ‘You’re thirty-three now,’ I said.

  ‘I want to ask the oracle where I should go next.’

  ‘Don’t you want to go to Africa and see the elephants?’ I tried to make my voice light but it wavered.

  ‘I do. However, I would ask the oracle to guide me. I feel like a ship without a rudder now, or like the empty wind blowing over a desert. I feel as if I were an empty cup or a hollow gourd. I have no more substance, and it is a feeling I fear. Some mornings I wake up and wonder where I am. I have to touch my face to make sure I haven’t changed. It’s very strange. I feel …’ His voice tapered off and he frowned slightly, searching for the right words. ‘I feel as if I had died, and that my soul has left my body. I want to ask the oracle where my soul has gone. I want it back.’

  I stared at him, frightened. ‘Is it like your melancholy?’ I asked. ‘Did Usse leave you some medicine?’

  He shook his head. ‘No, it’s nothing like that. It’s the strangest feeling I’ve ever had. I feel incredibly light, as if the wind could lift me up and carry me away.’

  I smiled shakily. ‘Perhaps it is simply the weight of the world leaving your shoulders,’ I said. I wiped away the tears that seemed determined to blur my vision; I wanted to see his face.

  ‘Perhaps.’ A smile tugged at the corners of his mouth. ‘I would like it to be so. All my responsibilities, all my worries, all the stress of having a million people in my care suddenly gone. Maybe it was simply too much for one man to carry by himself. Only you would be the one to tell me that. Everyone else wants to follow, don’t they?’

  I looked at him. My heart beat hard. ‘If you could see how much I loved you, you would feel as if a hundred million people were nothing at all,’ I whispered. ‘My love is as big as the desert, as deep as the endless sea, and as vast as the sky above us.’

  He leaned over and he kissed me. His hand caressed my cheek. ‘Don’t look at me like that, for surely the gods will become jealous and cause me harm.’

  ‘I would fill up that emptiness inside you.’

  ‘I think that you’re the only person who could,’ he answered. The breeze tugged at his hair. His face was pale in the moonlight. His eyes were brilliant.

  He felt the weight of my gaze and smiled at me again. His teeth were very white and even. At least the battles had spared them. A scar made one eyebrow higher than the other. Other scars decorated his body. ‘Do you like what you see so much?’

  ‘I do.’ I grinned back at him.

  ‘Well, I like what I see too.’ His regard was frankly admiring.

  I blushed. ‘You don’t have to say that.’

  ‘It’s true though. When I look at you I feel cool, even in the hottest desert. Your eyes quench my thirst. They are as ice-blue as a mountain stream. Your skin is like the white marble the sculptors love so well. I feel the breezes of spring when I see you. I feel refreshed and new again. It’s a magic you have. I would stay by your side for ever.’ Cleopatra’s little hammock swayed in the breeze. I lay back in my husband’s arms. He raised his arm and pointed to a bright star near the horizon.

  ‘That’s my star, Regulus, in the constellation of Leo.’ He spoke softly. His words were so low they barely detached themselves from the whispering wind. He leaned on one elbow and looked down at me. ‘Your eyes are silver in the starlight,’ he said, bending to kiss me. I felt his lips tremble against mine. His body seemed to grow hotter. I reached up and pulled him on top of me. He was urgent, his muscles tense. I stroked his back then took his hips in my hands and pulled him into me. My breath caught in my throat. There was an instant where neither of us moved, where we didn’t even breathe. Then he moaned softly and put his forehead against mine. I arched up to meet him but he held himself still. I moved slowly, sheathing him inside me, pulling nearly out then pushing in again. I wrapped my legs around his waist to gain more leverage and moved smoothly against him. The image of the waves came to me, the slow slide of the water onto the beach back and forth, in and out. His arms shook with the effort of not moving. His eyes were closed in concentration.

  I moved until I felt a throbbing start in the pit of my stomach. My legs slid off his back and I abandoned myself to my own pleasure, feeling it growing like flame inside me. My body shook. I tipped my head back and groaned aloud. Alexander gave a cry and thrust into me. Holding me tightly against him, he drove himself to my very womb. Over and over he pounded into me, his breath coming in deep groans. My own breath was torn out of my throat in sharp gasps. When his release came, he cried out. I held him to me. We shuddered together; our bodies joined in that mysterious gift of pleasure we could share. Afterwards, he stroked my belly and arms until the trembling stopped, then we both slept.

  Chapter Five

  The Siwa oasis was a magical place three thousand years ago. Perhaps the desert has claimed it for its own again, I don’t know. I had never been to this part of the world three thousand years in the future. In my time, deadly little land mines lay buried under much of the Egyptian soil, which made it one of the most dangerous places on earth. I didn’t tell Alexander that though, he hated hearing about the impersonal massacres of our wars. The stories of the atom
bomb and the biological weapons had literally made him ill. So now I kept my musings to myself, and I was glad, fiercely glad, to be back in Alexander’s time, when the world was pristine.

  We entered the timelessness of the oasis at noon. Entering the blue shade was like diving into cool water. Over our heads rustled the stiff fronds of thousands of palm trees, and little streams had been diverted to form a huge irrigation system within the oasis. Tall trees shaded the gardens. Olive, lemon, pomegranate, and fig trees spread their sweet perfume in the air. We rode along white sandy paths next to fast-flowing irrigation streams. We rode all day then camped in a large clearing that night. The oasis was so vast it would take us another day to reach the centre, where the temple for the oracle of Amon was built.

  I could see it in the distance sometimes, through the trees. It was built on a high, peach-coloured rock.

  That evening, I was happy to be able to take a bath. A spacious bathhouse stood next to a stream. I was less happy about the huge scorpions that came out at night. We made sure that Cleopatra was secure in her little hammock. I hardly slept, but they didn’t bother us. Usse said the farmers worshipped them, and I suppose they helped keep the insect population down. And from the size of them, the lizard and mouse population as well, although Alexander said I exaggerated.

  Small houses were set in the groves of trees. As we rode by, people would sometimes wave, and children would trot behind our camels. The men who cared for the immense oasis bowed low as we rode by. ‘Do they know who you are?’ I asked Alexander, as another farmer put his wooden hoe down and knelt in the sand.

  ‘I don’t know, maybe.’ He sounded unconcerned.

  I was disappointed when we finally arrived. I’d expected a great stone temple – perhaps with beautiful carvings or statues. Instead, two mud-brick buildings stood high on an outcropping of rock. A small staircase had been hewn into the cliff. The first house was the Temple of the Question, and the second house was the Temple of the Answer.