Eve of the Serpent

by Jon Jacks

  And they were all battling each other, the king’s spirit at war with itself.

  The calmest qualities of all, the ones standing in the midst of them all yet refraining from getting involved in this violent squabble, were the lingering presences of the wolf and the king’s brother. These two each moved slowly, perplexedly. They weren’t fully there at the moment, of course, being only spiritual overshoots that had gradually become an indelible part of the king.

  Like the spirits Prytani had already seen wandering throughout the tower, each part of the king was ultimately insubstantial, passing unhindered through its close neighbours, only the ones it was tussling with being aware of its existence.

  ‘A complicated soul, isn’t he?’ the lady said sardonically.

  The whole scene of the fighting kings was made even more confusing by the quivering cords stretching up through the very centre of the tower like a looming, living backbone. It writhed serpent-like, as if reacting to the presence of the battling kings, perhaps even somehow responsible for their presence: detecting and replicating his rapidly ebbing life, recording and reflecting it here for Prytani to see.

  ‘What do I do?’

  Prytani couldn’t see how the king could be helped to recover. Some of his weaker characteristics – his kindness, his tenderness – were already succumbing to their stronger brothers, at times simply blinking out of existence.

  ‘Which of them do I treat? How do I treat him?’ Prytani wailed despondently.

  ‘Tut tut; so many questions!’ the lady gently scolded her. ‘How can you possibly hope to help a confused man when you yourself are confused?’

  The lady’s sly sidelong glance, her narrowed eyes, implied that this was the only help she was willing to give Prytani at the moment.

  Prytani had to work this out for herself!

  As she looked, more and more of the king’s better characteristics were being torn apart by his more callous qualities.

  ‘How do I stop this? There’ll be nothing left of him soon!’

  ‘Not a particularly bad thing in itself, of course.’ The lady nonchalantly watched the warring constituents of the king. ‘Such a shame, however, that it’s his better qualities that are suffering so badly. Thankfully, that’s no great loss in this man; he had so few of them anyway, and they were always weak and vulnerable.’

  ‘We have to stop them fighting.’

  The lady glanced her way again, her smile somehow urging Prytani to continue this direction of thought.

  ‘Draw them all back together, as one,’ Prytani added. ‘Rather than the many, tearing at each other.’

  The lady still refused to help.

  ‘They need something they can all agree on…to live! The king is dying, and he needs to live!’

  Prytani was excited. It all seemed so obvious now.

  The lady drolly pursed her lips.

  ‘His constituent parts obviously seek that already.’ She drew Prytani’s attention to the boastful man now lashing out at the cunning man. ‘They want to live at the expense of all the others, failing to realise that they only live through their support.’

  This was all so confusing, Prytani thought miserably.

  Her mind was a whirl of contradictory questions and answers. She had to bring her own mind together. Bring her own conflicting thoughts under control.

  She just needed one answer, after all.

  Which meant one question.

  A common thought.

  ‘A common thought!’ she declared elatedly. ‘They need a common thought – a common purpose! A goal they can all identify with, something they can all aspire to.’

  The lady said nothing. She simply watched the ferociously battling spirits.

  ‘The sheath! They all want the sheath, to go with the sword!’

  Above the melee, a small glittering light appeared, growing, increasing in brightness.

  For the moment, it was only a shadow of the beautifully glowing orbs attached to the cords reaching up through the tower. These orbs swirled, fluctuated, there being at least six, from what Prytani could see. The nearest to the base was surrounded by encircling rings, a larger version of the brilliant light Prytani had seen before on the higher-most landing of the stairs, the one before the last flight led you up into the lady’s room.

  Apparently drawing power or substance from these great, blazing orbs, the small, hovering light flowed, swirled, grew, becoming increasingly more obvious and drawing the attention of some of the fighters below, even as they continued to fight.

  ‘It promises them health, wellbeing, despite his warlike intentions.’ Prytani was trying to reassure herself that she’d made the right choice, setting out the reasons behind it. ‘And he can accomplish his goal of conquering the kingdom of the dead.’

  ‘Such a vison!’ the lady sarcastically declared.

  The flickering light flowed, elongated, transforming into a glowing image of the sheath. Now more of the warring kings were staring up at it, at last breaking off from their battling. As they reached up for the sheath, they merged with those nearest to them who were also reaching for it. Even the wolf, shrinking, slipped into this gradual merging of the king’s many parts, becoming just one soul, aspiring to possess the sheath.

  No, not just one soul, Prytani realised. The tortured spirit of the king’s brother remained partially separate, slowly writhing as if attempting to slither free of its entrapping confinement.

  ‘Is that it?’ Prytani asked the lady.

  As she spoke, king and sheath vanished.

  ‘Will he live?’

  ‘He’ll live.’ The lady didn’t sound in anyway relieved. ‘He’ll slowly recover, his flesh regaining life.’

  Turning, she started to ascend the stairs.

  ‘Thankfully, a more fitting death awaits him.’ She said it indifferently. ‘But, for the moment, there’s much to play out just yet.’

  The steps didn’t seem as busy as they had only moments before. Even so, a multitude of creatures were passing by Prytani and the lady as they slowly made their own way up the stairs.

  Does, squirrels, rabbits, mares, dogs, pigs, cats, centaurs, minotaurs. Ravens, owls, robins, falcons. Pike, stickleback, octopus, lamprey.

  Of the creatures that had expressions Prytani could recognise and interpret, those rushing up the steps past them appeared blissful, ecstatic. Those passing them heading the other way, however, were downcast, perhaps even cast down.

  None seemed to see either Prytani or the lady. Each one slipped through them as if they weren’t actually there, just as they effortlessly moved through every other creature milling on the crowded stairs.

  On the first landing they arrived at, some of these creatures were intently studying the glowing orb of light floating above them, as if waiting for it to speak, even divulge some important information to them. The coruscating light was gorgeous, entrancing. However, it was only when they reached the second landing, where the orb burned a rich red, that Prytani finally understood the role of these glittering spheres.

  They were the chief stars in the night sky, the gods themselves.

  They were guides, perhaps ultimately even means of judgement – who would rise, who would fall. This was – as the Great Empire termed them – Mars. Below had been Venus. Above, if she remembered correctly, was the Sun, then Saturn. And the lady’s room? The Moon?

  Yet that wasn’t all the planets. There should be seven. Where was Mercury? Jupiter? They could, of course, be on the second flight of steps. But if the other flight was a mirror image of this one, it would also have four landings: so what globes of light lit up the remaining two?

  ‘So many, many steps.’

  The lady sighed, implying she was exhausted. Prytani didn’t think she looked even slightly tired, however. In fact, the lady smiled, like someone amused at their own joke.

  ‘This Moses I spoke of earlier, from the great testament brought by Joseph for the wizard: he climbs a mountain to see his god. Why woul
d that be, do you think? Why climb a mountain?’

  ‘To get closer: closer to the guiding stars?’

  ‘To get closer.’ The lady nodded, as if considering this. ‘In this case, too, because it was a holy mountain. Referred to in this great testament by a number of names that all mean the same place; Horeb, Mount Sinai, even Mount Bethel, beth-El meaning “house of god” – he lives, in other words, on this mountain.’

  ‘And this mountain really existed?’

  ‘Exists. In Petra, a place not far from Joseph’s own land. It will later be called Jebel Madhbah, or Mountain of the Altar. At its foot, there’s a spring, called the “Spring of Moses”, just as we are told that Moses brought water from the ground. There are also great boulders at its base, just as Moses erects twelve pillars. There are natural caves, even the Tomb of Aaron lying here, just as we are told that there are hidden caves in the Mountain of God. The testament speaks of a paved level of sapphire stone, and a gateway leading to a High Place. The gem we know as sapphire wasn’t mined until the time of the Great Empire, but here we see shiny blue slate paving a terrace leading to a shrine on a ridge.’

  ‘They had rituals? They really saw their god here?’

  ‘Jacob is said to have set up a pillar where he saw a ladder to heaven. On the mountain, there are towering obelisks taller than three men standing on each other’s shoulders. A great king called Solomon placed copies of the twisting pillars found here in his temple; one, Jachin, topped with a bowl of earthly fire, and meaning “God Shall Establish”, the second named Boaz, “In It Is Strength”, and topped with a bowl of celestial water.’

  ‘This Moses, he saw this god as well?’

  The lady nodded. She didn’t appear weary, even though they were still climbing the many, uncountable steps.

  ‘In what is falsely called a “burning bush”. In Joseph’s language, that would be “kiy sench”, but it actually says “mikvah sench” – a “bush that burns”. On Jebel Madhbah, only one bush grows: and that’s the thornapple, or moonflower.’

  ‘Ah,’ Prytani breathed, understanding now.

  In the past, a great many other shamans and seers had attempted to persuade Prytani to experiment with the potions they used to attain their own voyages to the otherworld. The thornapple, she’d heard, was fiery to taste, causing sweating and burning.

  ‘So he might not really have seen his god at all,’ she said.

  To Prytani’s surprise, they had already reached the top of the tower. She had assumed that their languid pace, the ridiculous length of the stairway, would mean they would take much longer to reach here.

  Outside, shining in through the windows and brightly illuminating everything inside the room, was a vast if incomplete moon.

  ‘No, he did see his god,’ the lady corrected Prytani. ‘The high alter at Beth-El is adorned with what many people mistakenly believe are bull’s horns. Once again in Joseph’s language, Mount or rather Har Sinai means Moon Mountain.’

  ‘A mountain sacred to the moon god? Then the bull’s horns are the crescent of an earthshine moon.’

  ‘Moses was known to carry a serpent staff; the way a serpent sheds its skin to grow young again itself linked to the moon’s rhythm of death and rebirth.’

  With a graceful wave of a hand, the lady changed the shape of the moon outside, creating the large, upturned crescent of a moon lit only on its underside by the sun.

  Prytani was horrified. What would everyone think when they saw this abrupt change in the moon? They would fear that it might be the end of the world or, at the very least, as a sign of calamity to come.

  ‘Don’t worry, little fox.’ The lady had noted Prytani’s anxiety. ‘Only we can see this.’

  She drew Prytani’s attention back to the crescent moon outside.

  ‘We’re told that Moses is forbidden to see god’s face. God only displays his “achowr”, or back-side, the phases of the moon seen as a rotating from front to back, or head to rear, then back again. The moon’s face is only dimly lit by the earth’s reflective light, as if god’s face is veiled.’

  With another elegant wave, she made the moon shine as brightly as it had before.

  ‘That’s all he saw? An earthshine moon?’

  Prytani was disappointed. So was the lady: disappointed by Prytani’s reaction.

  ‘Oh no! Of course not, little fox! Has that potion you’ve taken addled your thinking? You really don’t need it: it will only add to your confusion. Remember, this was where Jacob ascended his ladder to heaven. The pillars I spoke off? These weren’t constructed like any normal pillar: they were hewn from the rock, the whole top of the mountain hacked away around them.’

  ‘Weren’t the pillars of wisdom hewn from rock?’

  The lady smiled, impressed by Prytani’s recalling of the phrase. She nodded.

  ‘There were seven. As it says in Joseph’s testament, “Wisdom has built her house; she has hewn out its seven pillars”.’

  *

  Chapter 26

  The king’s flesh was no longer a crinkled, deathly white.

  Not that anyone had noticed this before. It was just so much more obvious now that he was beginning to recover; the flesh warm not drenched in a cold sweat, the muscles full and rounded, rather than withered and loose.

  ‘He still requires careful handling,’ Nechtan declared, after giving orders that the king needed to be lifted up onto and tied to a horse, ‘but he’ll live.’

  The surrounding land was now much darker, the sun almost set.

  The great bonfires that had been prepared earlier were now lit, the roaring red flames lighting up the people encircling them in a blood-red glow, transforming them into denizens of the netherworld. Oxen and heifers of every type and size were being nervously led between the fiercely blazing fires, the beating flames stretching out a flick of a long finger to caress their sides and hurrying them through.

  By the time they had drawn near to the nearest village large enough to provide a building suitable for the ailing king – one that was reasonably wind proofed, adequately warm – a few of these fires had died down to a point where the bravest amongst the encircling watchers began to leap across them, laughing exultantly at every successful jump. The village itself was in no less an excited state, potions of every kind being sold or handed around, charms promising everything from better health to pain-free birth.

  There were also a number of shamans, men and women, many preparing to go into a trance, some already under, already traveling, journeying into the otherworld. Seemingly suffering a nightmare-wracked sleep, these latter shuddered, moved oddly, sometimes going through the motions that someone awake would make if opening a door, running, or fighting off hordes of frightening demons. Eyes trembled wildly beneath only half closed eyelids, what could be seen of them white and pupil-less.

  Those who needed them clutched tightly to their familiars or, if the creature was too large, it lay beside its master or mistress, suffering an equally uneasy, heavily-drugged sleep. Prytani though she recognised at least two of the entranced seers, having sensed a similar fluctuating presence within the tower.

  The shamans still awake were preparing for their own journey, laying out a comfortable place to sleep, setting aside an area for their familiar, mixing a potion from the plants and berries they’d gathered. A few of these were also instructing apprentices in their art, others even urging and helping the curious – at least, those in whom they’d detected a certain natural capability – to experience a brief trip to the netherworld.

  A woman was smearing an ointment over the rounded ends of broom sticks handed to her by giggling girls, whispering her own instructions, all of which set the girls embarrassedly chuckling all the more. Tonight, Prytani thought with a wry grin, these girls would be off flying on their broomsticks.

  The head of the village reacted quickly and efficiently to the arrival of the king and his men. He provided the best accommodation his village had available, along with food, dri
nk, and any potions Nechtan believed the king might require.

  Even Prytani was given a warm, comfortable place to stay. She had never before experienced such an incredibly soft place to sleep in.

  Wrapping up close together, the curving shapes of their bodies melding, Prytani and Tamesis were soon asleep.

  ‘Another visit? And so soon after your other one, too!’ the lady said in warm greeting. ‘Perhaps tonight, then, we should satisfy ourselves with a tale.’

  *

  Chapter 27

  Gilgamesh and the Seven Uraei Snakes

  Gilgamesh, the King of Uruk, was distraught after losing his great friend, Enkidu.

  Deciding that he must seek out Utnapishtim, who had been made immortal by the god Enlil, Gilgamesh travelled to the very shores of the Great Ocean, where the Waters of Death also flowed.

  Here a young woman called Siduri lives beneath a great tree. Gilgamesh approached her, asking directions to cross the Great Ocean.

  ‘Who other than the Sun can cross the Ocean?’ Siduri replied. ‘The passage is difficult. What will you do when you come to the Waters of Death, which flow so deeply?’

  Even so, she took pity on him.

  ‘Utnapishtim, whom you seek, has a ferryman. You will find this ferryman down in the wood; with him are the holy things, the seven stone-giants. He is fashioning the serpent prow of the boat, and you might be able to cross the waters with him.’

  When Gilgamesh went into the woods, however, he was overtaken by a spontaneous rage and, with his axe and dagger, he destroyed the stone-giants.

  (Why this is so, the original story doesn’t explain. Perhaps there’s a clue in his choice of weapons. He may – not unreasonably – have mistaken the stone-giants for the Sebettu, the children of the God of Heaven who circle the moon. For they also hold daggers and hatchets in their hands.)

  ‘You have destroyed, the only creatures who can cross the Waters of Death,’ the ferryman complained, ‘for they prevent the Waters of Death from touching me. Along with them, you have also destroyed the Seven Uraei Snakes.’