*
All Eleusis lived in the shadow of the great temple of Demeter, and Melaina's home was within the nearby semi-sacred quarter where the priests lived. Having spent her entire life—until the months at Brauron—at Eleusis, she hadn't realized the luxury of her own home. Just outside the large double doors stood the herm, a boundary pillar topped by Hermes' head and bearing an erect phallus, a male watchdog to ward off intruders. The Hall of Men was just inside the double doors: a courtyard lined with separate chambers spread in a vista of bronze-paneled walls with azure moldings. A colonnade stood in the center, enclosing a small altar of Zeus Herkeïos, protector of the home. The women, and Melaina in particular as the young mistress of the house, were permitted in this hall only rarely, and then when no strangers were present.
The doors at the far end of this courtyard opened into the great dining hall where golden pedestals held aloft bright torches of pitch pine. Great chairs lined the walls strewn with fine embroidery made by slave women under her mother's close instruction. This was where, in evenings of days long passed, her father had stalked about extolling the virtues of this philosophy or that to his enthroned dinner guests. Melaina's dim memories of her father were of him in this great hall during the evening, and of a singer of Homer's great poems come to charm them and their friends.
Hidden away in one corner of the courtyard was a small chamber for storing papyrus scrolls. This was her grandfather's library of ancient writings. Melaina had always loved lounging on the floor, a scroll spread before her. Early on, her mother had taught her to read, and Melaina thrived on it, studying Homer's ancient texts of the Trojan War, Odysseus' wanderings, and stories of Agamemnon's daughters, Iphigenia and Electra. In particular, Melaina studied the ancient book of prophecy called the Sibylline Oracles. Melaina had a great interest in the future and thought seercraft a magnificent profession. She read the tragedies of her Uncle Aeschylus along with many others. Her grandfather delighted to see that Melaina was such a scholar and questioned her from time to time, marveling at her capacity for learning. "What an odd little girl," he'd say. In the minds of Greek men, intelligence in females was a rarity.
Her mother's bedchamber, which she'd shared with Melaina's father until his death, occupied the space to one side of the dining hall. That of the Hierophant was directly opposed.
Through another set of bronze-plated doors stood the Hall of Women and another pillared courtyard. Here, daily, twenty maids sat around the mill grinding grain, or weaving upon their looms and twirling distaffs. These women were as skillful at weaving, as were the men of Eleusis in ship navigation. Their wool-hardened hands were a constant blur of activity. As with the Hall of Men, the women's rooms lined the periphery of this great hall. There, Melaina took possession of her new sleeping quarters.
Until she left for Brauron, Melaina had slept in her mother's large chamber, rolled up on a small cot in the corner. Her efforts toward her dowry, she kept at the foot of her bed. This consisted of woven quilts, blankets, rugs, and her formal attire. Since her return, though, she'd slept in her own chamber just inside the bronze doors, the only room in the Hall of Women with a window to the outside, providing a sunlit airiness during the day and giving her a sense of insecurity at night.
Her receipt of the room from her mother was accomplished with a private ceremony. Through the years Melaina had known it as a strong room, closed and locked by a sliding timber. Once opened, her mother revealed the reason for the security: it contained Melaina's inherited dowry. Though Melaina had never known it to be open, the room had been immaculately kept, no speck of dust allowed to fall on the treasures within. Her mother revealed what her father had hoped one day to say himself, that his mother had left her own dowry in his care, trusting to fate that one day he would have a daughter. And indeed a treasure it was: finely embroidered tapestries and delicately woven carpets were stacked about, some woven with fine threads of gold.
"I'm a Eumolpid," her mother told Melaina, "as was your father, descendants of Eumolpus himself, leader of the people when Demeter, during her travail, appeared at Eleusis vainly searching for Kore. Your father's mother was my aunt, your father, my cousin. We shared the same great grandmother. Much of your dowry has also come down from her, you being the latest in a long line of women priestesses of the Mysteries."
Melaina said nothing, not particularly liking the implication that she would also be a priestess, but not wishing to spoil the moment with controversy. And, the dowry was quite a spectacle.
Her mother opened the old chest. The outside was common, carvings and markings of some ancient script, now worn faint. As the lid squeaked open, exotic aromas and glimmers of light scintillated from contents that seemed to light the interior.
"This chest contains great wealth, Melaina. We've never been poor, and some of what you see is believed to have belonged to Eumolpus' wife, whose name is lost to us. Since this chest is in the domain of women, which is also true of the Mysteries, even your father knew little of its contents. Although none of it is really secret, it's best not to make the contents common knowledge. Could well incite jealousy."
Her mother lifted the fine linen clothes from one end of the chest, stacking them neatly on the floor until she uncovered the bottom. From within that wood foundation she lifted a small, hinged hatch to reveal a hidden compartment.
Melaina couldn't restrain herself. She plunged her hands into the darkness and felt a cold mass of loose coins, withdrew a handful. It was a wealth she could have never imagined. A mixture of coins, some so old and tarnished she'd never seen the like, others shiny enough to have been minted yesterday at Eleusis.
Melaina knew little of such coins. Her mother explained. "These," she said holding up a bean-shaped pellet, "are called 'dumps' and are hundreds of years old. The maker struck them to show that they are solid and not plated. These," she said holding up a shiny but worn coin with a lion's head, "are made of electrum and come from Lydia during King Gyges reign. They are at least two-hundred years old." Her mother got lost in the naming of them, and lingered on the Athenian "Owl," a coin with the likeness of Athena on one side and an owl on the other. It was a tarnished silver tetradrachm, and minted rather recently. Then, she held up a smaller coin, made of gold, with a profile of a king on one side and a ship at sea on the other. "This is the daric, from Persia," she said with a touch of venom. "King Darius minted it. It was he who is responsible for the death of your father. Our generals brought all these to me, taken from the Persian ship on which he died. I gave them all to you. Such a pittance for the loss of a father." She paused and stared at the coin, lost in deep thought. Then she recovered herself.
"Your female ancestors have added to it through the ages," her mother said. "Don't use it unless the necessity arises. This will be your daughters' legacy also. I could tell you many stories passed down with this dowry, but with the evacuation, I haven't time. Perhaps we can make some when we get to Salamis." With that, her mother made Melaina return the coins, then closed the secret compartment, and replaced the clothes. Myrrhine looked as though she had something more to say, as her eyebrows drew together. "This will give you a measure of independence for life. Should your husband put away your marriage and leave you, he must restore it to its original value."
Whatever it was that bothered her mother, she didn't put into words.
That night as Melaina lay awake, the sounds of refugees fleeing the Persian hordes drifted in from the nearby road. Her thoughts shifted to the chest and its marvelous contents. Her mother's words returned. "You are the latest in a long line of women priestesses to the Mysteries." She worried about telling her mother of her desire to follow Artemis. Is this the way I am to repay my mother's and ancestors' generosity? she wondered.
The Mysteries, A Novel of Ancient Eleusis Page 12