*
The group feasted on the top of the hill overlooking the bay. The light of Persian fires dotted the darkness east toward Athens and gradually merged with the sparkling starlight. So far, Eleusis was safe, but the doom of Persian drums rumbled in the distance.
Melaina's eyes followed her mother and the Hierophant. They'd not spoken to each other since leaving Melaina in the cave, and she hoped this was not something that would permanently stand between them. But Melaina was too hungry to let their quarrel slow her sopping and chewing. The old Hierophant stared approvingly at Melaina. He smiled, gray beard streaked with meat juices. They were eating the flesh of the two sacrificial animals, the black ram and ewe. Melaina rarely tasted roast meat and had never gorged herself solely on flesh. Her sadness at sacrificing had now been converted to ravenous hunger, and she consumed the body of the beast, ingesting the holy nourishment in tribute to its gift, while trying to protect her sore tongue.
The slaves' behind them were a constant chatter, their voices echoing far-off Scythia and Thrace, home of Boreas the north wind, from where they'd been kidnapped years before. Kallias had already left for Salamis, convinced he'd received not only the sought-for sign from the goddess, but also hope of divine intervention to save their fledgling people's republic. Themistocles would be hard-pressed to convince the others, but Greece must be defended at Salamis, where the cloud of souls had gone, behind the "wooden wall" of ships and not at the Isthmus.
Her grandfather was struggling to explain what had happened. They'd received so much more from the immortals than anticipated. "According to a myth more ancient than Kronos himself," he told Melaina, "Tartarus holds many dead, those not initiated into the Mysteries and thus never allowed into the Elysian Fields. They were suicides and murderers banished to Tartarus before Herakles taught us the purification ceremony we now hold annually at Agrai. They clamor for redemption, but Zeus never listens. Perhaps our ceremony provided a means for their rehabilitation, and an initiation for them."
"But what can they do for us, grandfather?" asked Melaina.
"Only time will tell, little one."
Melaina didn't reveal all she'd witnessed. She held back the one piece of news that would have softened her mother's heart toward the Hierophant. She would savor it as her own until tomorrow. She'd seen her father in the Underworld.
The Mysteries, A Novel of Ancient Eleusis Page 19