The Mysteries, A Novel of Ancient Eleusis

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The Mysteries, A Novel of Ancient Eleusis Page 30

by David Sheppard


  *

  A commotion in the hall woke Melaina well before daybreak. Shouts of angry women's voices and the howl of a beast followed. Melaina heard her name spoken in desperation just before a great white wolf strode into the chamber, followed by a tall woman dressed in sacred raiment. The servants tried vainly to restrain her. The oil lamp in her hand cast a pale light and flickered nervously. The beast moved to the center of the room and stood at attention, surveying all within his realm.

  "Where's the maid from Eleusis?" the woman asked, scanning the chamber. She was the tallest woman Melaina had ever seen, standing goddess-like among the servants.

  Heart pounding, Melaina raised her head from the pillow. Her mother responded.

  "Back off, woman! If you won't let us sleep, at least let us make ourselves decent before accosting us. And remove that demon! His eyes have stalked me since he entered."

  The woman motioned the wolf back to the door. "Forgive me! I must know if the maid was at Brauron during the Persian siege. Please!"

  "Leave her be," Melaina said to those trying to restrain the woman. "Let me learn her mission before she's banished." She turned to the woman. "Perhaps your rudeness is not without purpose. I was at Brauron."

  "Ah! At last!" But inexplicably the woman turned her back and hid her face. "I'm terrified to speak with you." She fell at the foot of Melaina's bed, cried, prayed. "Oh divine Artemis, august goddess on Olympus, be gentle with me, that this tender maid's storehouse of memories might not hold my doom."

  Melaina watched as her mother left her bed and went to the woman, shook her by the shoulders. "Stop this!" Myrrhine said. "You've frightened us all quite enough. State your business."

  The woman suppressed her sobs. "I'm Keladeine, priestess of Artemis at Kenchreai nearby, but more importantly, sister of Kynthia, priestess of Artemis at Brauron."

  Melaina felt a chill ripple through her and her grief reawaken. She knew she was about to cause Keladeine a great heartache. She slipped from her covers and, though still in her sleeping gown, took both Keladeine's cold hands in hers. "I saw the Persians strike flames to Artemis' temple at Brauron." Though a sizeable woman, her face was gorgeous, with large intelligent eyes that reflected the lamplight.

  Keladeine spoke again. "I've heard nothing but rumors and wrung my hands with uncertainty. Withhold nothing. The kindest words be those of complete truth though they slay me in the hearing."

  The woman's icy hands were the largest Melaina had ever held. "I can only offer a cruel recital indeed for the sister of my dear mistress." Melaina stopped to let her words soak in. She took Keladeine, a young woman barely more than her own age, into her arms, let her weep. She seemed a huge child.

  Myrrhine turned to the servants. "Prepare a place here on the floor, and do something about the chill. These walls leach cold." She lowered her voice. "And be quiet about it. No sense waking the entire temple."

  With that Melaina and her mother donned their house robes as befitted modesty, and the women serving them brought a plate of glowing coals from Hestia's hearth to break the room's chill. Myrrhine, Melaina and Keladeine gathered round the radiating heat, each sitting on a small pillow, as those in service hovered in darkness about them. The wolf quietly maintained his guard at the door.

  Melaina told Keladeine of the events at Brauron that had sealed her sister's fate. She was gentle with the description of Kynthia's death, revealing nothing of the gore, so she might deny Keladeine the gruesome image, but was emphatic about the result. Kynthia had passed to the Underworld. Melaina omitted that the Persian was trying to get to her when Kynthia stepped between them. She couldn't bring herself to say it.

  Keladeine cried hard tears, and Melaina and her mother had to restrain her from lacerating her cheeks. Melaina told Keladeine of her own affection for Kynthia, the long hours they'd spent together beyond that required for her training at Brauron. Eventually, she came around to expressing her own interest in following Artemis. Melaina finished by telling Keladeine of her own plans to start a school for girls at Eleusis.

  Keladeine recovered a little. Her eyes, set in wet cheeks, met hers for the first time. "You must come to Artemis' temple, my temple, just off the road between here and Kenchreai. You can't return to Eleusis without seeing it."

  Myrrhine spoke, "Melaina won't have time. We leave after the celebration tomorrow."

  "Then we must go now," said Keladeine. "We could be there and back by the time the men are up. We've an ancient wooden statue of Artemis. Some say it's the oldest in Hellas, that Manto, the daughter of the great seer Teiresias, carved it at the request of Apollo to honor his divine sister."

  Melaina was struck with Keladeine, the wide-spaced eyes, her openness. Her chiton fell barely to her brown knees, and her shoulders were bare and golden from long hours in the sun. Though large, she was agile as a cat. Her hair glowed yellow, a striking contrast to her sun-darkened skin. She controlled the wolf standing watch at the door with a glance, the lift of a finger.

  "Mother, I must go," cried Melaina. "We have no such temple at Eleusis. Give this one moment apart from you. I'll return promptly. Quick Hermes will see to it."

  "No! For many reasons, no."

  "Why do you imprison me so by your constant presence?" The question was direct, stinging. Melaina saw hurt in her mother's eyes and regretted it immensely. But this young woman, Keladeine, exuded such excitement. Melaina realized that her mother was concerned that the epilepsy might return. "I feel great, mother. Don't worry."

  Melaina could tell that her cutting remark had hurt her mother immeasurably. Myrrhine didn't resist further, and Melaina left with Keladeine, but not without a growing guilt at how she'd won this moment away. Outside they climbed aboard a small, two-wheeled cart pulled by a single donkey. Keladeine spoke once to the wolf, "Lykos!" He jumped inside. Though Keladeine had two male slaves with her, the girls took seats in front, and Keladeine took the reins.

  The pink sunrise made the road easy to follow, and they heard a chorus of roosters the entire route. Shortly, a dirt trail left the main road and ran up the forested hill away from shore. Melaina viewed Keladeine anew in the glow of morning light. Never had she seen such radiant beauty, a messenger of the gods she seemed.

  At the top of the hill the trees parted, and they stopped before a modest temple. Keladeine left the cart and donkey with the servants. A single palm stood before the temple. She touched it as they passed. "I brought this tree from Delos. It's an offshoot of the palm marking the spot where Leto gave birth to Artemis and Apollo. It's but one of my treasures. The palm bears only female flowers, and, since it's the only palm in the area, forever virgin."

  "You've been to Delos?"

  "Once."

  "Oh, Keladeine! What I wouldn't give to see the sacred isle."

  A herd of deer grazed in a meadow nearby, and clouds of sparrows fussed among the trees. Keladeine swung aside the double doors and spoke in hushed tones. "This was modeled after the great temple of Artemis at Ephesus but doesn't approach its magnificence. The simplicity serves Artemis well."

  "Kynthia used to tell me of Ephesus. I do so hope to get there some day," said Melaina.

  "We have close connections with them, both being near commercial ports. Their temple is truly a marvel."

  "You speak as if you've been there too."

  "I have."

  "In Ionia? Is there any place you haven't been? I'd give my life to see Ephesus."

  "Oh, Melaina, you do love Artemis, don't you?"

  "Kynthia was very persuasive."

  "Then I've found a sister in you!" And then she started to cry. "I've known in my heart Kynthia had been taken from me but wouldn't admit it. Artemis has sent you with the crushing news to cushion my grief."

  "Kynthia said that in Ionia, Artemis is worshiped as the great mother goddess."

  "Even Zeus has no temple to compare with hers at Ephesus."

  Keladeine led Melaina through the columns and into a darkened hall, stopping before a
door to a small chamber. Melaina peered inside and saw children sleeping in rows upon blankets laid directly on the dirt floor. One little boy cried in his sleep.

  "War orphans mostly," said Keladeine. "Some from unwed mothers. We take those who'd be exposed on Kithaeron."

  "How do you care for them?"

  "They'll gradually be absorbed into the surrounding communities. Merchants who come to cross the Isthmus at the diolkos will adopt some. We also take in orphaned animals, birds, deer, bear cubs. One young mountain lion."

  "Then it's not just a temple of worship. It's a refuge."

  "All that are lost come here."

  Melaina thought if she became an outcast because of her epilepsy, she might end up here. Artemis' temple at Brauron had been dedicated to educating girls in their rite of passage from girlhood to womanhood. But here the unfortunate, the vulnerable sought refuge. If she could combine the two at Eleusis, provide not only for girls' training but also a shelter for the abandoned, her life would have even more purpose than she'd imagined. Perhaps that was why Artemis had saved her from the Persian assassin. Melaina again felt the guilt of not telling Keladeine the full story. Would Keladeine hate her if she knew the complete truth?

  Keladeine led Melaina into a large chamber with a vaulted ceiling, at the far end of which stood an adytum and a dimly lit altar. A small statue of no greater height than Melaina herself appeared faint in the light of oil lamps. A circular depression before the altar contained ashes mixed with charred animal bones. Beside it stood a slaughter stone, discolored by black blood.

  "I'll tend the children," said Keladeine, leaving Melaina alone.

  Melaina allowed her eyes to adjust to the dim light. The age of the statue was evident in the wood grain revealed through the paled paint. The goddess was clad in a short sleeveless chiton that left her right breast bare and hardly reached her knees. It was bound at the waist by a scarf drawn across and tied. She wore buskins laced halfway to the knees and was in half stride. She held a torch in her left hand and in her right the tiny hooves of a fawn that had just sprung up to greet her. Her strung bow was strapped to her back along with a shut quiver. Her maidenly character showed in her clear bright face and dimpled chin. Her hair was pulled back severely and secured in a long plait. Her gaze was fixed upon the distance. Melaina imagined Artemis returning home through the woods in the early evening after a day of hunting, her way lit by the torch.

  Melaina's eyes feasted on the icon. She'd often heard of Artemis the huntress, and ironically, protectress of animals, but she'd never felt the liberty inherent in this one image. She'd sensed Keladeine's self-determination, but the image of the goddess, the perfect unfettered being, struck her soul on fire. Never had she truly known what the word "freedom" meant. No wonder men willingly gave their lives for it. This statue of the maiden goddess, the embodiment of the woodland secluded life, made Melaina want to run off into the woods herself, walk alone through meadows, wade knee-deep streams, and sleep staring up at the stars.

  Melaina realized she was committing a sacrilege. She remembered Palaemon's warning. She'd been allowed to see Artemis' freedom and now envisioned it for herself. A mortal could never, should never, strive for that reserved for the gods. To do so was insufferable arrogance. She took a deep breath, straightened her back proudly before Artemis, and raised her arms.

  "O divine Artemis! Modest maid of thick-shaded forests, who loves Earth's wild beasts and brings quick death by the bow, I pray your indulgence in this personal matter. Not long ago, I came to you seeking to keep my virginity, not yet realizing the full bounty that worship of you brings. Keladeine, your temple priestess, and your likeness here before the altar, have shown me more than a state of existence, a path more precious than life itself. Give me that measure of freedom befitting a temperate mortal maiden and strike from my heart the infectious arrogance corrupting my thoughts. Fair-faced Bringer of Light, give me this life, and I'll always burn fat thighs pieces upon your sacrificial fires."

  As she finished, Melaina realized she must make everything right with Keladeine. If she didn't tell her the full truth of how Kynthia died, it would always come between them. She found Keladeine among the children suckling a baby at a goatskin bladder.

  "I must return," Melaina told her. "I've been gone too long."

  Shortly they were back in the donkey-drawn cart on the road to the temple of Poseidon. Melaina became quiet. She felt that her friendship with Keladeine was about to end. She'd known her such a short time, but already loved her as the sister she'd never had.

  "I've something to tell you, Keladeine." Melaina held back tears. "When Kynthia fell to the Persian assassin, she wasn't his target. He'd come for me. Kynthia stepped between us, offering herself up for sacrifice without hope, so I might live. But for me, Kynthia would be here with you today, and I would be in my rightful place in the Undergloom. I'm terribly sorry." There, she'd said it and would now have to suffer the consequences. She could hear Keladeine also crying and wondered when her new grief would turn to anger.

  Instead Keladeine said, "Your every statement is a gift. My one unspoken doubt in Artemis was that Kynthia's life had been taken for nothing. I wondered how the goddess could let that happen. But you come forth humbly with word that Artemis is not arbitrary, that she in her infinite wisdom used Kynthia as your springboard to womanhood. Though you may not realize it, this demonstrates without doubt that the threads of your life are entwined with those of the gods. My life is here at my small temple on the Isthmus, but yours is mingled with the divine. I envy you, but still must pass along a warning. Mortals are never more than dust caught up in the whirlwind of the gods. Those closest them inherit nothing but grief."

  The sun was well above the horizon when the cart pulled up in front of the temple of Poseidon. Melaina saw her mother standing in the doorway and quickly said goodbye to Keladeine. "Will I ever see you again?"

  "Only the will of the gods can keep us apart."

  "Have you been initiated into the Mysteries?"

  "No."

  "Oh, Keladeine, you must be initiated. We must be together in the Elysian Fields."

  Keladeine shook the reins against the donkey's back, and the cart moved off down the dirt road. When Melaina reached the temple of Poseidon, her mother was on her at once, grabbing her by the hand and holding it until Melaina's fingers ached.

  "Please don't leave like that again," Myrrhine said. Melaina saw her mother's quiet desperation.

  Looking toward shore, Melaina saw a crowd of men: generals, warriors and priests. She and her mother watched as the men led out nine sacrificial bulls, an offering to the blue-maned god who made the islands tremble. Taking the sweet entrails to eat themselves, the priests stacked high the flaming altar with fat-wrapped thighbones for the god, while those around them skewered red beef and held it scorching in the flames.

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