*
The following day, Melaina went with Aunt Philokleia and the maids, who seemed somehow afraid of her, to draw her nuptial bath from the Well of Nine Springs. After swearing to stay indoors, she longed to get into the open. She and the maids passed outside the city walls and along the grassy banks of the Ilissos, where Melaina slipped off her sandals, breathed deeply and sat cooling her feet in the quiet, shaded stream beneath an oak tree. The maids drew water while they whispered about her.
Melaina was familiar with the area because it was here that the lesser Mysteries were performed every year. Her mother always participated and brought Melaina. Initiates who wished to attend the greater Mysteries of Eleusis, but who'd committed murder or were otherwise in need of purification, first attended the lesser Mysteries. Melaina listened to the shrill voices of cicadas while resting her head on the soft grass. She felt the baby move. It had been unusually active the last few days, and she wondered if the chariot ride had upset it.
Today was Melaina's last as a free woman. She regretted having never been on her own, never experiencing her dream of living free as did Keladeine. She wondered why she hadn't heard from the young priestess. Melaina had sent the letter months ago.
After returning with the sacred water, Aunt Philokleia bid the bath-maids set a kettle on the fire and wash Melaina's feet. When the girls hesitated, she added, "Don't be afraid. She's not divine." She told another, "Pour a bath in the tub."
Melaina watched as the maids filled a bronze basin, first with cold, then hot water that glittered in firelight. She dipped her toes into the wet warmth. One maid loosed Melaina's long hair, handling it gently, and another scrubbed her feet, then helped her into the shallow tub. The bath-maids scrubbed her back and thighs with a tickly brush, laid her head back, and ran warm liquid through her silky hair. They stretched a fresh fleece for her to sit on, dried her with soft linen, and anointed her with golden olive oil.
Finally, the maids dressed Melaina for the ceremony. They brought forth a new white chiton with the midriff dyed purple from the blood of a murex snail. Over the chiton, she wore a himation that passed from the left shoulder under the right arm, the hem folded back over the cross strap to fall in zigzag folds. The rest of the garment hung over her torso and left thigh. They arranged her golden hair in concentric, smooth ridges over the top of her head, leaving two rows of scalloped ridges across her forehead in vertical locks. Behind her ears, the hair formed long wavy, corrugated locks, four falling forward over each shoulder. Her light eyebrows were darkened and rendered as arching chevrons. Coordinated patterns of red and green wound round her stephane, on the seam of her chiton, down her right arm, and on the border of her himation. She wore disk earrings, a pearl necklace, silver and gold bracelets on both arms, and a crown woven of myrtle.
Melaina's breasts bulged obtrusively, as did her abdomen, yet she stood and, using her left hand, clasped the folds of her chiton to the edge of her thigh, smoothing the skirt across her legs. The girls laced her sandals, although Melaina couldn't see them below her protruding tummy. Her belt was tied with a double knot, veil draped over her head and shoulders.
"What an object of delight!" cried the handmaids.
"Beautiful as Pandora," pronounced her aunt. "What a waste."
Melaina ignored the insult though she cried inside. Pandora was the first woman, created by Hephaestus and dressed alluringly by Aphrodite as a snare to men.
That evening, Uncle Aeschylus' torch-lit home swarmed with guests. All day Melaina anticipated her mother joining them, but when all were assembled, Myrrhine still hadn't arrived.
"Where's my mother? You promised," she said to her uncle.
"We searched all Eleusis but couldn't find her."
"Postpone the wedding," she declared.
"No!" he cried. "We've a war to fight. No time for women's business after this evening."
Melaina sunk deeply within herself. What a travesty!
Uncle Aeschylus stood before the hearth of Hestia, Kallias beside him, and sacrificed to Hera. He slit the throat of a lamb, let it bleed over the slaughter stone, then removed the gallbladder and threw it to the dogs, thereby signifying that neither gall nor anger should play a part in the marriage. Aeschylus prayed. "Dear Hera, the cream of whose breasts lights the milky circle of stars spread across the heavens, goddess of the divine yoking of mortal couples, bring the fulfillment of every woman's destiny to Melaina, and sanctify this couple's marriage."
Melaina maintained her head and eyes downcast to connote modesty, shame, and submission, as she knew she must, all her bracelets rattling nervously.
Kallias stood tall beside her. As Dadouchos, torchbearer of the Mysteries, Kallias was dressed in priestly-garb, black wavy mane flowing down his back and bound at the temples by a strophion. His sleeveless chiton reached midway between knee and ankle, a row of embroidered red dots circling the hem. Over the chiton, he wore a heavier, sleeveless pullover, decorated with a scattering of blue circles, and bound at the waist by a green-chevroned sash. A stole-like military mantle, typical garb for horsemen, passed beneath the sash.
Such a splendid, regal-looking man, Melaina thought, how can I not love him? But she didn't. She preferred the striking image of young Sophocles astride his horse, torch in hand, as she'd seen him leading the way back from Brauron.
Aeschylus spoke words of transference. "I give Melaina over to you, Kallias, for the plowing and sowing of legitimate children."
The couple tipped cups of wine into flame and drank deeply.
Kallias reached toward Melaina, who lifted her left arm as if to ward off a blow. He grabbed her by the wrist in the customary ritual gesture of matrimonial possession. Melaina cried out, and the women accompanying her pretended to defend her, but Melaina wasn't kidding. She stared daggers through her veil, hot anger welling up inside her, and tried twice to jerk her wrist from Kallias grasp. Her hatred of him rekindled in one last flaming before being extinguished.
In the deep darkness outside, Kallias, his golden chariot hooked to the four handsome horses, hefted Melaina aboard, where she stood at his elbow, face still covered with the veil. He gave a flick to the horses, as they pranced with streaming manes through the labyrinthine streets. The dark ashes of Uncle Aeschylus' home disappeared behind as Kallias kept the harness shaking all the way. The nuptial torch preceded the car, and a chorus came behind singing hymns.
"Ho, Hymen! Ho, Hymen! Hymenaeos! Io!" So ran the refrain with aulos and lyre keeping up the tune. Aunt Philokleia, frowning but acting in Myrrhine's place, followed the procession holding a lighted torch in each hand. Women came streetside to stare at their passing.
At Kallias' home, his mother, Lady Hipparete, smiling and looking not much older than Melaina's own mother, greeted the couple at the threshold. Philokleia passed her the two torches. Melaina feared Hipparete greatly, knowing the woman would be living with them.
Melaina and Kallias stood before the door. An inscription above the lintel read, 'No evil enters here!'
"Pai! Pai!" called Kallias.
Melaina heard the clunk of bolts and bars, the groan of hinges as the doors swung inward. A foreign-born porter stood before them, a eunuch, who viewed them suspiciously, as if he didn't recognize his own master.
"Step aside, Pai," said Kallias.
As they came into the entryway, a cornucopia of dates, nuts, figs, and dried fruit was upended and showered over Melaina, whose face was protected by her veil. She was greeted by Kallias' dog, which had profusely-foaming jowls and a snakelike tail. The dog squinted at her through loose rolls of hanging skin. He licked Melaina's fingertips and then her toes through her sandals.
"Away, Argos!" shouted Kallias.
At his father's death, Kallias had inherited the family home and everything within, and he had become priest of the hearth. To become hearth priestess, Melaina had to sacrifice at his fire. Melaina had never seen more elaborate homage paid to Hestia. The hearthstone was of such size, it could only have
been laid by a Cyclops. Flames roared within its confines.
Melaina hated herself for being in a house of plenty when so many throughout Athens were decimated.
Kallias said to her, "I realize Demeter and Kore have been your family gods, but in my home, we worship Hermes, from whom my family descended, and Hades, Lord of the Underworld."
Myrrhine felt a chill pass through her. "No one worships Hades. He deals not with the living."
Kallias at first looked hurt but recovered quickly. "We worship him as Plouton, the bringer of wealth."
Melaina felt like resisting further, but knew it was hopeless. Plouton was Kore's husband. She'd best keep her mouth shut or risk insulting the dark goddess. Besides, Kallias had been amply rewarded for his worship.
After she sacrificed a lamb to Plouton, Kallias dipped his fingertips in a bowl and sprinkled Melaina with lustral water while praying to Hermes as he held her hand over the flames until she felt as though the heat would singe her nails. Kallias closed his eyes and breathed deeply, but still held both their hands over the fire. He mumbled something she couldn't discern, then prayed aloud again, this time to Hades.
The company then gathered closely about for Melaina's unveiling. Finally, she'd be allowed to look Kallias in the eyes. This was the beginning of her disrobement and signified sexual submission, taming. She let out a sigh.
Melaina fingered the edge of her veil, pulling it up and back to expose her clustered curls and blushing cheeks, as she looked upward, her eyes meeting those of Kallias. She'd always heard of the emotion the wedded couple felt for each other at that instant, that the man felt Eros break his knees, as might those wounded in battle, since the bride's glance was supposed to be irresistibly erotic. Kallias' eyes were deep-black, pupilless pools, revealing an inner darkness of the soul that Melaina thought must link him directly to the Realm of the Dead.
Melaina felt nothing of the devastating effect of Eros, even caught herself about to laugh. She remembered the first time she'd looked into Sophocles' subtle-blue eyes and longed for that feeling. But Kallias was sweating. "Great Zeus," he said, "such penetrating blue I've never seen but in the depths of the Aegean. Long have I avoided your eyes, knowing your gaze would be fatal, as was the gaze of the Amazon queen Penthesilea, who overwhelmed Achilles even as his blade delivered the fatal blow."
Kallias and Melaina then shared a fertility cake of sesame seeds and honey, and she gave him a tunic she'd woven herself. From her dowry, which Kallias had brought from Eleusis, Melaina displayed her loom-work containing all the necessities of home: carpets, wall coverings, hangings, curtains, and embroideries for every surface. Melaina's skill and diligence would definitely add to the honor of the house.
Kallias' mistress of stores brought provisions of bread and wine along with victuals fit for kings. Now the feast would begin.
"Kallias," said Melaina, remembering the devastation she'd witnessed on the way from Salamis, "it's not right that we should eat while others starve. Have the slaves take some into the street and disperse it to those decimated by the war. We'll never miss it."
Kallias thought about this a moment and so ordered. "You've a kind heart to give up part of your marriage feast," he told her. In a wine bowl, Kallias mixed water with sweet red wine mellowed eleven years before his eunuch uncapped the jar. He poured his offering, prayed to Hera, daughter of royal Kronos. The others also made libation and drank deep.
When the festivities ended, all the company retired to their quarters, and Kallias and Melaina to their inner chamber. Melaina carried a blood-red pomegranate into the wedding chamber and ate from it, as had Kore when abducted into the Underworld by Hades. The eunuch stood guard at the door, gatekeeper to the marriage chamber. Girls were brought forward to stand outside it, singing wedding songs. Melaina cried at this because they should have been her closest friends, Agido and Anaktoria.
When Kallias asked about her sadness, she told him not to worry. She was only lamenting not knowing the fate of her friends.
"Melaina, you seem docile and sufficiently domesticated to carry on a conversation. Still, I realize you come to me barely fifteen, seeing, hearing and saying as little as possible. Such is the way girls are raised, so I won't expect much. Why, what could I expect of someone who knows nothing of camels?"
"I hope you won't forever hold the fell beast against me, my lord. But I would like to know what you do expect of me."
"Let me explain how marriage works," he said, seeming to take great pride in his role as teacher. "The gods, with divine discernment, have coupled together male and female in mutual service, adapting the woman's nature to the indoors and man's to outdoors. I have considerable land not far from here. I'll work at the open-air occupations: ploughing, sowing, and planting."
Melaina looked at him from the corners of her eyes, unable to imagine Kallias working the fields. This sounds like something he's memorized, she thought.
"You must work at things done under roof, nursing infants, baking bread, weaving. Your tasks resemble those of queen bee, staying in the hive without suffering idleness. Those who work outside, you'll send forth, and that which they bring in, you'll receive and apportion just shares. You'll preside over care of the little ones, and later, just like young bees duly reared, you'll send them forth to found new colonies."
"I'll do my best," she said, but still had to smile.
"I assure you, dear, you'll have pleasant duties rewarding the useful members of our household and punishing anyone revealed to be a rogue. Together, we'll have friends from all of Athens' great families."
"Sophocles and his father?" she asked.
"Sophocles? Forget him," he said, drawing his brows together. "His father has wealth, but Sophocles isn't an aristocrat, doesn't know how to throw his cloak over his shoulder from left to right."
Melaina yawned. "I'm tired. The baby weighs heavy upon me."
"To bed with us then. I'll strip off and work the land," he said removing his robe.
"My lord! Consider the child!" She reached for the sack of sneezing power the physician from Kos had given her. "It'll not suffer you entering my womb."
"What's a marriage without consummation?"
She inhaled the white powder, sneezed ferociously. "True," she admitted, then sneezed twice more. "Still, if you take me, it'll not be in the interest of the child."
"What is this fit that's come upon you? Are you sick?"
"Simply a precaution … something a physician gave … ." She didn't know what else to say. "Aids the development of the fetus," she lied.
"Disgusting." Kallias removed the nuptial blanket from their bed. "Then we'll not need this. I'd so hoped to weave our souls beneath this tapestry. But promise you'll not tell anyone that the marriage hasn't been consummated." He lay beside her, but presented his back. "Point your nose the other way. I'll not have you spraying me."
Melaina felt lonely and didn't want him angry with her. "Dear Kallias," she said, "don't sulk these few weeks until the baby comes. Still love me, and the anticipation will make future coupling that much the sweeter."
"You conjure limb-gnawing passion, then cast me aside."
But Kallias, son of Hipponicus, rolled over, caught her up in his arms, and they lay together, drawing the covers about them like a golden cloud. Melaina slept within the arms of her husband, the Dadouchos, torchbearer of the ancient Mysteries, her passion unaccountably stirred, and feeling in his arms a comfort she'd never thought possible.
The Mysteries, A Novel of Ancient Eleusis Page 70