*
Early the next morning the blacksmith and priestess resumed their journey, mules laboring against the grade, digging in and straining against their harnesses. Finally, they rounded Oak Heads pass and pulled to the side of the roadway. From here, they could see along the road in both directions. To the south, they overlooked Eleusis and the Thriasian Plain, and saw smoke still rising from Attica, all friendly territory lying in the midst of its own decimation. Pale Mt. Hymettos loomed beyond Athens, where Myrrhine and Melaina were reunited at Kleito's home after Kallias had retrieved Melaina from Brauron. To the north, where they were headed, they overlooked the deme of Boeotia that had gone over to the Persians, including Thebes and Orchomenus, between which the Kopaic Basin, with its eel-infested swamplands, glinted in sunlight.
They descended the mountain, the smith applying the brake to the wagon wheel to restrain the mules from careening out of control. By mid-afternoon the terrain gradually flattened, and they could see across to the Asopus. There, to their surprise, the Persian army gathered. They'd not have to travel as far as Thebes after all. Mardonius had brought his troops west along the north bank, using the river for protection, and was now setting up camp between the river and Thebes. They passed the small villages of Erythrae and Hysiae, both of which had gone over to Persia. The residents of nearby Plataea to the west had fled to the hills rather than fight.
Myrrhine realized she was overlooking the field where the battle for all Greece would soon be fought. They'd be within the Persian camp by nightfall. Myrrhine had made up her mind to do whatever it took to retrieve her daughter. But first, she needed divine guidance.
Before they reached the river, she had Palaemon turn right onto a trail, and shortly, they came to an old temple of Eleusinian Demeter standing amongst a grove of trees: pine, mighty elms, pears, apples. Though it was late summer, a creek gushed down from the slopes of Kithaeron.
Palaemon pulled the wagon beside the creek and drew water. But Myrrhine refused to drink or freshen herself, pulled her fire-scarred robe about her, and entered the deserted temple. She wondered why it'd been abandoned. The wooden icon of Demeter had toppled to the floor and been shoved in a corner. It was now covered with dust and cobwebs.
Myrrhine sought the smith's help, and the two of them returned Demeter to her throne. The goddess was majestically draped in a double cloak with a mantle across her knees. She held poppies and wheat in her left hand, her right resting upon the arm of the throne. She wore a crown, and a veil draped the back of her head, falling upon her shoulders. Myrrhine recognized Demeter's characteristically benign brightness, the strong lines at the eyebrow, chin, and cheek, yet she seemed softer, gentler than Myrrhine had ever seen her. Myrrhine raised her arms before the icon.
"Demeter, greatly hail! Bountiful goddess who came to earth, I come to you in great need. Only you can understand my suffering. Never before have I fully comprehended your grief when Kore was ripped from your breast. Greatly I admonish myself for thinking I knew. My daughter, Melaina, has also disappeared, snatched from me by the same fell monsters, who burned your temple and destroyed your sacred Mysteries. Just beyond the Asopus, Persian hordes gather for even greater mischief. Give me strength to enter their camp and retrieve Melaina. In the past, you've come to my aid, returning Melaina to me when she was in great danger at Brauron. I beg you, see to her safe return once again, and never will I live on in safety while one of your temples burns."
Myrrhine returned to the wagon to find Palaemon waiting at the reins. They traveled back from where they'd come, rejoined the road north, and crossed Morea Bridge over the slow-flowing Asopus. Now they were on the main road to Thebes, with the sun falling behind Kithaeron, and casting a traveling shadow along the plains. The Persian cavalry met them, one man on a huge black horse wearing a hammered-bronze helmet.
"State your business," demanded the horseman in broken Greek.
Myrrhine was even more frightened than she'd imagined, being amongst the enemy's army. These were strange men indeed. They wore turbans, greaves and corselets, and carried bows of cornel wood, arrows without feathers. Some slung goatskins about their shoulders and wore hats stuck around with feathers. Others carried daggers and riphooks, practiced lasso throwing. She stiffened her resolve, knowing Melaina must be amongst them.
"Sacred business concerning Mardonius alone," Palaemon answered, rising from his seat to expose his deformity as he spoke. Those accompanying the horseman shouted in dismay and retreated a comfortable distance.
"And the woman?" asked the horseman.
"A sacred official from Eleusis."
The horseman called another alongside, and they spoke in a foreign tongue, then argued heatedly. The other retreated, and the horseman motioned for them to follow him.
They entered the Persian camp amidst great curiosity from the infantrymen, who were dressed in tiaras, embroidered tunics, and coats of fish-scale mail. These men carried light wicker shields, short spears, and powerful bows with quivers containing cane arrows. Daggers swung at their belts. Every man glittered with gold and had a covered carriage with his women and servants. Each had a donkey, horse, or camel.
Palaemon spoke quietly to Myrrhine. "Though they have great wealth and have all their comforts with them, Hellene armor is far superior. They've not made the breakthrough in forging tough metals. They must not even know how to beat a complete helmet from a single iron ingot. Look! They have wicker shields. Ours are bronze. It'll be no contest head-to-head."
The great multitude spread far into the distance. Torches, lamps, and campfires dotted hillsides. Myrrhine knew that most enemy troops had returned to Persia with Xerxes, yet it still looked, with this wide mixture of peoples, as though they'd brought their entire civilization. Shameless men-giants, turned tree haters, were everywhere within the nearby forests. With great double axes and hatchets, they rushed about Demeter's groves felling tall trees and laying waste all the shady glens in sight. Great stacks of timber lay about.
"Sacrilege!" Myrrhine said. "Have they no restraint?"
They were led past the slaughter area where men sacrificed camels, horses, oxen, asses, deer, and smaller animals: ostriches, geese, and cocks. Rivulets of blood flowed into earth's creases and stood in deep puddles.
They approached a congregation of large tents, outside of which bakers and cooks swarmed over a conflagration rising from the outdoor kitchen. As the two became visible in the great light of the cook's fire, the crowd, seeing Palaemon's misshapen form, stood aside. A guard stepped into their path, accosted their escort in the foreign tongue and then brushed him aside, and addressed the two directly.
Myrrhine spoke no Persian and wondered if this would be their undoing, but Palaemon spoke up, guttural sounds pouring so naturally from his mouth that it frightened Myrrhine. Then she remembered that he'd lived under Persian rule at Rhodes. But the guard grew angry, shouted at them, then cracked his mighty whip over the heads of the mules, sending them into panic.
Palaemon regained control of the beasts and drove them back from the crowd. Myrrhine feared that she and Palaemon would not even have the chance to request an audience with Mardonius. She climbed down from the wagon, took hold the reins of one mule, and walked the team back toward the center of camp.
Several men stood in her way. One stepped forward to shout in Greek, "Turn about or eat arrows!"
Myrrhine recognized clubfooted Hegesistratus, the diviner with Mys who'd waylaid them on the road to Epidaurus. After speaking, he turned his back to walk away. "Shoot them!" he said.
"Hegesistratus!" she called out, "do the gods taunt you with pain in your self-mutilated foot?"
He wheeled about to see who'd shouted his name, strained to see the face of the woman.
"Your hatred of Sparta drive you to traitorous acts?" she added.
"That and money. Mardonius pays well," he answered, but he was obviously confused and, by the slowness of his speech, Myrrhine knew he was trying to judge who would know so much
of his history.
"Can he save you from Tartarus as well as poverty?"
"Who addresses me such? What woman speaks to any man so?"
"It is I, Myrrhine, priestess of Demeter at Eleusis, whom you met on the road to Epidaurus this past spring. You sought my daughter, who has the falling sickness. I've come to speak with Mardonius."
Hegesistratus swung into action, slandered the commander, then ordered him inside the tent. Shortly the man returned at a fast gait. "Mardonius will see the woman. Separate her from the daemon at the reigns of the mules. He's to come no closer."
Myrrhine stepped forward to walk with Hegesistratus and saw horses eating from an all-bronze manger. What riches, she thought. As she got closer, she realized she'd come during their evening meal. Some dined out of doors in full sight, others inside. When she reached the tent entrance, she saw that even those inside didn't eat in the presence of Mardonius, for he had two separate rooms. His advisors ate in one, and he in another accompanied by a chorus of his concubines who played the lyre and sang. He had a throne of white marble, embroidered hangings, and gorgeous decorations of silver and gold, couches inlaid with precious metals. Myrrhine wondered if he had aspirations of filling Xerxes' shoes someday.
Mardonius himself was of no remarkable appearance save his flame-colored robe strewn with gold beads, that and his assurance of manner. Standing before this man, who'd caused the devastation of all Attica and burned her beloved Eleusis, she still, by virtue of her mission, stoutly refused to be intimidated. His attendant eunuchs smelled freshly bathed and were dressed in white. The tent floor was covered with beautifully designed carpets containing miniature figures of Persian heroes. Tables were furnished with cups and mixing bowls of silver and gold. Upon the fire burned the spine and gallbladder of some animal.
Mardonius left her standing alongside Hegesistratus and continued his meal, laughing over a lyric sung by one of his concubines. The table glistened under rays of high-swinging lamps that lit tempting lures for the palate: cruets of wine, snowy-topped barley-cakes, wheat loaves. She saw steaming kettles of what she supposed to be rich shark, stingray or squid, polyps with soft tentacles turned black by inky cuttlefish secretions, glistening eels.
While Myrrhine waited to be addressed by this great Persian, cousin and brother-in-law to Xerxes himself, his slaves served flower-leaved cakes and spiced confections, frosted puff-cakes. Last came slices of steaming tunny carved from the meaty belly, intestines of swine, and a rump with hot dumplings.
A slave finally brought a chair to the table and Mardonius motioned for her to sit, but Myrrhine stood silent as they partook of the meal. She'd not eaten since the Persians burned Eleusis and had vowed not to eat again until she found Melaina. She seemed to gain strength from her fast. Before the chair meant for her, the slave set meat-ends with skin-white ribs, snouts, feet, and tenderloin spiced with silphium, the split head of a kid, brain steaming. All of which she refused, still standing.
When Mardonius finished eating, slave boys removed the plates and bowls, then poured water over his hands. Hegesistratus walked to his side and mumbled in his ear. Mardonius looked toward Myrrhine, and surprisingly, addressed her in Greek.
"Declare your mission. If you won't eat, at least tell your mind."
Myrrhine had planned to fall at Mardonius' knees and beg him to return Melaina, but so offended was she at the sight of the felled trees and excesses in camp that she couldn't restrain her anger. It was immediately apparent to her that she'd never gain her daughter's freedom from a position of weakness, and resolved not to tell him her mission right off.
"All Boeotia is a great center for Demeter worship, yet you lay waste to her sacred glens. Persian axes dig into the pale flesh of tender trunks, leaving holy groves desolate. Turn back your woodcutters lest Lady Demeter send drought over the entire world. Yield in this sacrilege!"
Mardonius bristled, stood to shout back at her. "Yield? Yield yourself! Lest I have an ax fixed in your flesh. From these trees shall I build a great palisade to house my warriors while we plan the end of Hellas. Surely this isn't the triviality you've come before me to utter. I've offered the greatest restraint, desiring only to govern Hellas, not destroy it."
"Glutton! Having thieved the rest of the world of its wealth, you've come to rob Hellas of its poverty. You've not been initiated into the Mysteries, wherefore you are insatiable, whether for lumber or table dainties. Food disappears into your bottomless pit of a stomach, wine flows as if into the depths of a sea. It's the same with your great hoggishness for countries. Yea, build your palisade with this great orgy of tree cutting." Myrrhine had never been one for prophecy, but she now felt her own daughter's influence. "All you plan within those cut timbers shall go against you. There shall you reap your reward for crimes against the goddess."
"Twice I've taken Athens without losing a man. Hellene soldiers flee before us like women. We are the greatest race in the world. All will bow before Persia."
"I see your love of mischief and adventure, your great arrogance. You surround yourself with flatterers, worms that bore into a man of simple character. Your very nature offends the gods."
Mardonius belched a great smelly cloud. "I'll not hear more of this." He turned to Hegesistratus. "Why bring this raving wretch before me?"
"She's the daughter of the Hierophant at Eleusis and priestess of Demeter. The great Mysteries of Eleusis are measured by her days. I thought it unwise to ignore her request for counsel. Besides, the deformed creature that brought her causes great disruption in camp."
Mardonius turned back to her. "Why come shouting into my tent thus? If you have another request, make it. Lunatic ravings do little to further your cause."
"Your gluttony is only exceeded by your battle atrocities. You've slaughtered the Hierophant, my father, and taken my daughter. I've come to retrieve her, along with the other women of Eleusis you kidnapped. Perhaps you don't realize Demeter's daughter is Mistress of the Underworld. My daughter is forever in the goddess' protection. You'll not find her an asset. She descended to the Underworld to ensure your defeat at Salamis."
Mardonius spoke to one of his lieutenants, who rushed from the room. He started to speak again but Myrrhine cut him off.
"To speak the name of the Mistress of the Underworld in public is forbidden, so we use Kore instead. If necessary, I'll speak it here in your camp to get my daughter back. Even if you've butchered her, I'll have the body."
Mardonius raised his hand to silence Myrrhine, but to no avail.
"Dear goddess of death, Persephone," she emphasized the name, drew out each syllable to its fullest length, "mother of the Furies, Queen of the Netherworld, within this camp lies the great corruption that offends you. Bend your thoughts to visions of death and spread terror for these troops. Harvest these souls who lie in great insolence among your temples."
Clubfooted Hegesistratus shouted, "Enough!" and turned to Mardonius. "Please! Silence this woman, sire. Oh, the evil this woman brings!"
Mardonius' lieutenant returned, speaking again in the foreign tongue. Mardonius turned to her.
"You shall have your women. We have no knowledge of your daughter, though she may be disguised among them. Neither would such a priestess have been slaughtered on the battlefield against my order, nor would have a Hierophant. In the chaos of war, families get separated. Have faith that your daughter is still alive. We'll return these women who are rightfully ours as the spoils of war. Be content with more than your share."
Myrrhine turned on him, her eyes flaming. "They are Demeter's daughters, not yours!" Deep hatred flavored her words. "Never, never will they be yours!"
He walked her outside to where the after-dinner leftovers were being served to the bodyguards and light-armed troops in attendance.
"These women are all we have," he told her, pointing to a small group huddled in the dark. "Since Hellas is already mine, they'll not be missed long. Now remove the beast with a man's head. His presence is a disruption to bot
h warriors and horses."
Myrrhine scanned the captive women's faces and suffered a great disappointment. Melaina wasn't among them. She staggered under the blow but recovered. She couldn't believe they'd taken only six women. Anaktoria must be in camp but neither was she among them. Still, Myrrhine knew she shouldn't push her luck. "Demeter will punish you for holding the rest," she said, but couldn't resist a last appeal. "My daughter is heavy with child. I must have her."
Mardonius looked surprised. "Was she among a group of girls outside the city gates by the river?"
"Yes!" shouted Myrrhine. "It was she."
"I saw this girl! I led the charge on Eleusis myself from my white stallion. We bore down on the group of girls, but from nowhere swooped a chariot, one driven by a madman and pulled by four black horses. Never have I witnessed such daring. He snatched the pregnant girl from us as our grip tightened about her."
Oh! Such sweet words. Melaina alive and in Greek hands! Myrrhine's heart was secretly aglow with gratitude, but not only for this gift of hope. Amongst the women of Eleusis, she'd spotted Agido's mother holding her infant son.
And another thing. She realized Mardonius was doomed. Tied beside his tent was a great white stallion. Melaina's vision when she fell on the way to Epidaurus revealed the death of a man on such a white horse.
At the wagon, Myrrhine saw the dejected look on Palaemon's face but couldn't tell him the full story there. "Into the wagon," Myrrhine ordered the women, afraid to acknowledge them worth taking. She urged the blacksmith turn about in haste. "Get us out of here," she said.
The Mysteries, A Novel of Ancient Eleusis Page 59