CHAPTER 16: Halcyon Days at Eleusis
As Melaina stepped off the boat at Eleusis, she saw the silhouetted shape of her grandfather disappear over the hilltop on his way back to the temple like an old bear returning to his lair, his dark robe pulled tight about him. I must confront him soon, she thought. I've fulfilled my role as priestess. Do I have the courage to ask for my freedom?
Melaina's excitement that first day home was fueled by the voices of her friends shouting just to hear the old stone halls echo. Melaina found her chamber unmolested, but not quite as she remembered. A quick check of her dowry chest revealed nothing missing, although it did seem disturbed. She became lost again in luxurious ancient fabrics, gold-threaded robes, coins locked away in secret. One mantle was her favorite. It had a wide trim interlaced with woven gold and was made to be worn about the back with ends pulled over one arm and thrown over the shoulder.
The Hierophant gathered all the officials of the Mysteries in the Telesterion, the ancient many-columned auditorium where the initiates congregated during the yearly ceremony, including Melaina and her mother. Melaina had never attended an assembly but was well known to all, related to many, and now the subject of whispers and finger pointing. The Hierophantides, the Hierophant's assistants, were Eumolpids, Myrrhine's distant cousins and also the mothers of Agido and Anaktoria. The mothers avoided Melaina and Myrrhine, still upset over Melaina dragging their daughters out in public. The All-Holy Ones were virgin priestesses also known as the "bees." They avoided contact with men and lived secluded lives outside the sanctuary. Melaina used to visit them with her mother from time to time. Melaina loved their stories and ancient ways. The Herald of the Mysteries was from the family of Kerykes, Kallias' family, and a descendant of Hermes the divine herald. He spent most of his time in Athens but still kept a home in Eleusis. The lesser officials maintained the temple: the Phaethyntes cleaned statues; the Neokoros cleaned and decorated the sanctuary; and the Hydranos were two priests in charge of the holy water used for purification during the Mysteries.
All were present at the assembly, having been called to the Telesterion by the Hierophant. They sat on the steps inside the columned chamber where the initiates sat during the Mysteries. The Hierophant stood before them, though leaning on his staff and in obvious pain. Melaina wondered if he was ill. He didn't hold them long, but spoke of the religious rites to the Mother and Maid, the practices for choral groups, and said a few words about the remaining construction work on the sanctuary. He also talked about the destruction of crops around Eleusis and urged food rationing. He reminded them to stay close within city walls with the Persian menace still lurking to the north.
The Hierophant then paused in his instructions and looked at Melaina. He seemed to be weighing some worrisome question. Here it comes, she thought, my elevation to priestess of Kore. Her breathing stopped. This could be the end of her quest for freedom. But he looked away and dismissed the group back to their homes. Her sigh of relief echoed off the forest of columns. Melaina then knew she needed to have it out with her grandfather. She didn't know why he hadn't made the announcement, but Melaina did know that if she didn't do something quick, the act was inevitable and possibly irrevocable.
Everyone who'd evacuated had returned, although they realized that the Persians would renew their threat next spring. The noise created by all these people and their families brought Eleusis back to life. Melaina spent her time in the weaving room close to the hearthstone, where a great fire blazed, scenting the air with cedar. She loved the weavers' song, the highs and lows of their sweet voices as the shuttles slipped to and fro. Melaina stood before a tall vertical loom where warp threads hung from a horizontal beam. Her hands were lightning with a shuttle. The woman next to her packed the woof with a wooden rod.
The room buzzed with the gossip of a dozen women, some stretching wool and combing it, others dying the tow-yarn. One spun it about a distaff, drawing the dampened thread from the spinning wheel, shaping it between her fingers and cutting it with her teeth when the trundle was full. She dropped the soft fleece into a wicker basket.
The women were working on Melaina's marriage wardrobe, a disconcerting prospect for a young woman not wanting marriage. She'd been laboring over the wardrobe the last two years and had carpets, wall coverings, and embroideries for tabletops. Melaina envisioned herself as one of the Fates, weaving an unwanted life. She repeated poetry to buoy her courage and focused on building the case she'd present to the Hierophant.
Finally, Melaina could stand it no longer. She passed the shuttle off to one of the slave girls and went next door where women prepared the newly sheared wool. They washed it in hot root-of-soapwart water, while others prepared it for dyeing by soaking it in wine, olive oil, and pig's fat. Melaina tried to busy herself carding the combed wool, but found she had no interest in this either. The slave girls laughed at her absentmindedness.
It was fate that bothered her. Was it possible to determine the future? Do the gods really fix our fate? she wondered. Or are women really the pawns of men? And what about this "second fate" business her grandfather had mentioned?
Finally, she went to see her mother.
Myrrhine was before the ovens. Great steam clouds of yeast and honey from the glowing ovens filled the room as she and a slave girl retrieved groat loaves made of rice-wheat and then pushed bulging pans of dough, soft and white as baby bottoms, into the inferno.
"Please. Come with me to see the Hierophant," Melaina said. "I must know if I'll be allowed to follow Artemis."
"So it's come down to it now, has it." Myrrhine looked very dissatisfied. "I petitioned your grandfather to hold off the announcement of you officially becoming a priestess. I didn't tell him the real reason, only that I wanted you fully recovered from your ordeal at Brauron before we added this new pressure to your duties. Can't say he was pleased."
"But mother, if I don't tell him now, he'll make the decision public without weighing my objection."
Her mother took Melaina out of the others' hearing. "Okay. I'll go with you. But don't get your hopes up. He's been looking forward to you becoming a priestess for many years. Oh," she stopped and became stern again. "The epilepsy, don't mention it."
"Why?"
"You're cured."
"Grandfather should know I had it. I thought I might use it as an argument in my favor."
Her mother took Melaina's hands in both hers. "No, Melaina. No one should know you ever had it."
"But why?"
"The stigma. Some would view you as polluted even if cured. They could stop you from becoming a priestess or running a school for girls."
Melaina became irritated. "But mother, you don't understand. It isn't all bad. If you only knew what I felt and saw just before I fell. Something miraculous happened. Grandfather might value it."
"What? Tell me about it."
Melaina fell silent. Words didn't exist to describe it. "It is a union. I'm as one with the gods."
"To view yourself as a goddess is the great arrogance."
"I don't mean that. But I do understand what it's like to be a goddess, only as can one who has been with them."
"You've been with the gods?"
"On the promontory overlooking the sea battle. Just before I fell, I saw Hermes guiding the souls of the dead."
"Tell no one!"
"Why?"
"Men are not tolerant of aberrations in women. They want us predictable and trustworthy."
"But grandfather knows how the gods cherish me."
"This is a step beyond what even he will understand. Trust me in this."
"Okay! If I say nothing of my vision or the epilepsy, you'll help?"
"I'll go with you. Nothing more." Myrrhine hesitated. "I've noticed you've stopped averting your eyes or lowering your head, as is customary when women address men. It's particularly important with your grandfather. He is the Hierophant."
Melaina flushed and wild anger welled up inside her. She said nothing and forced back words of
defiance.
"And be gentle with him," her mother added, "I've become concerned with his health lately."
They left to find him, Melaina mumbling under her breath and now uneasy about her mother's presence. Perhaps I should have gone alone after all, she thought.
The Hierophant was in his library humped over a scroll and grumbling to himself about "painful old age." He rose from his table bowed over his staff, and crept about anxiously. Melaina noticed that his limbs trembled, but apparently not from weakness. He looked strong enough. From time to time he grunted as though he'd suffered a blow. He drew his tunic about him as if to ward off a chill.
Melaina caught herself staring at his eyes, trying to read his mood. She remembered her mother's caution and forced her eyes to the floor.
When he had taken a seat again, he spoke. "What grave task has brought you before me, child? You look as if you've committed a crime."
Melaina knelt before him, took his knees in her arms and kissed his hands. "I've come as would a slave to ask for the freedom to determine my own destiny," she said, bracing herself for the blow to fall.
Out of the corner of her eye, she saw his brows jerk up toward her mother.
"Grandfather… To some being a priestess would be all life could offer, but the Muses have given me song that I might write poetry, and a soft heart for babies and little girls that I might see to their entry into the world and teach them to be good wives and mothers. I wish to remain virgin and follow Artemis."
He placed both hands on her head, his cold fingers touching her ears. "Would you agree you've shown considerable talent as priestess?"
Melaina tried to resist the impulse, but her head leaned back and her eyes found his. She saw the worry there, and the suffering. "Yes, grandfather, more than I would like to admit." She looked down again.
He nodded and looked away. "You were voted on and passed by the Sacred Officials some months ago." He paused. "And you realize how much we need a male child to carry on in my footsteps as Hierophant?"
"Yes," she said reluctantly and sank back from him, eyes still lowered. "And the need for a priestess of Demeter to follow my mother," she said reluctantly.
"The line of Hierophants from the Eumolpids extends back a thousand years. One of your cousins may bear a son, and the Kerkyes are anxious to have a hierophant named from their clan, but you're the only one in the direct line of descent."
"I know, grandfather. Yet it's what's in my heart. What of my second fate?"
He stayed silent, and, unable to resist, she raised her eyes again, let them roam his wrinkled face. His mass of hair had lost its luster. His beard was streaked with gray. "If it were anyone else," he said, "I'd refuse flatly, but the gods have interfered in your life. Before birth, we're all allowed to select the life we'll lead and its inherent end. But when Kynthia died in your place at Brauron, you were, as you say, allotted a second fate. What the Fates have woven, you must live through to the end. Nothing I say can affect it. The spindle of our lives ever turns on the knees of Necessity with Atropos weaving the web of irreversible destiny."
"And… I can remain virgin?"
"I admit that I've had my doubts about demanding you follow in your mother's footsteps. First, Artemis saves your life, and now you come to me wanting to follow her."
"Oh, no. I'd already decided to follower her."
"Then that act may have predisposed Artemis to you and saved your life."
"So... I can remain virgin?"
"I mean," he said, touching a finger to the tip of her nose, "I'm not the one to ask. I'm not even sure the gods have settled the matter, because Kynthia's sacrifice was not given willingly. She died struggling. The gods are warring over you."
"But, grandfather, what am I to do?" she asked, catching sight of her mother walking up behind him.
"I'll say nothing more one way or the other. Your fate will show itself soon enough." He pulled her toward him and kissed her on the forehead, something he hadn't done in a long time. "Now leave an old man to his misery."
But she couldn't. She had another request plaguing her. She tried to ignore her mother's eyes as they also looked down from behind him. Melaina looked at the floor as she spoke.
"Grandfather, could you build a temple for Artemis here at Eleusis? I've long thought it strange that we have none. We've neglected the virgin goddess, and she'd greatly appreciate it. No need for plans. I've a vision of how it's to be."
The Hierophant leaned back and laughed heartily. "You've long thought? What a treasure you are, my little one! Nothing in your sweet life has been long. And that you've had a vision, I don't doubt at all. Perhaps you're right. Is that why Artemis has you tormenting me so?"
The Mysteries, A Novel of Ancient Eleusis Page 34