CHAPTER 34: A Call to Courage
Melaina settled down for a rest while Kallias gathered his armor in anticipation of an early start, but a fierce tempest arose, and he feared they'd be kept from sailing. Violent blasts stirred the sea, the rough surge setting ships pitching and rocking. Melaina rose again and stepped outside to watch the crews scurry to bring the beached crafts farther upon the sand to prevent them from being ripped apart by the raging waves. Priests worried the winds, and Melaina, with her robe wrapped tight about her to deflect the gusts, fell to wondering if somehow she'd further offended the gods.
Kallias and the generals seized the opportunity to sleep, but Melaina, with her insomnia, kept dreamless vigil over their slumbers. She thought of seeing her mother again, that she might comfort her over the Hierophant's death, and she longed for Eleusis even in its ashen state. Oh, how I long for the sight of home! I really am an exile, she thought. Will I ever see my home again?
After hours of listening to thunderstorms unleash their fury, Melaina also dozed and had visions of Iphigeneia with her father Agamemnon. She woke briefly, dozed again, and dreamed of herself at the slaughter stone on Delos as Iphigeneia had been at Aulis. She woke remembering the children who'd worked the silver mines at Laurium, the worms, how their labor bought the fleet of ships that saved Greece during the battle of Salamis, and now made the liberation of Ionia possible. Their toil must not be in vain, their suffering come to some good. My own child could end up there, she thought.
A noise startled Melaina. On the windowsill above sleeping Kallias hovered a small, big-billed bird with a bushy crest, a halkyon with a fish in its beak. Some god had turned it aside while it flew aloft and settled it upon the pane. Melaina didn't know whether she was awake or dreaming. She'd thought the halkyon was a mythical bird with no earthly form, as legend told of its calming the waters to nest at sea.
"We are two of a kind, sweet twittering shuttle," Melaina said, "I may weave my own nest upon the sea before long."
The halkyon beat the fish upon the sill to kill it, as if knocking upon the door of Hades, swallowed, then uttered a laughter-like screech.
Melaina realized its clatter was fraught with omen, and that its shrill voice prophesied the ceasing of winds. Melaina spoke to it again. "O halkyon, sing your doleful song. I know you ever bemoan a homeland. I match your tearful cry, an unwinged songstress longing for Eleusis."
A thought came to Melaina, a twinge of guilt with it. On the far side of the Aegean, on some ancient Asian shore, a happenstance might occur in which she could avenge her father's death, as she'd promised him. She took a deep breath and made her decision. "My sweet Lord, see your grandchild through this."
She touched Kallias as he lay wrapped in soft sheepskin. "Kallias! Wake. You must climb rugged Kynthos and propitiate Artemis. We must dedicate me to this voyage, and the stormy blast shall cease."
He stirred, stared at her in alarm. "What daemon has hold of you this time?"
"The halkyon, kingfisher of the sea that knows the whims of waves, spoke as you slumbered. By the power of Artemis and no other will the sea be calmed, even as favorable gusts were given Agamemnon at Aulis when he sacrificed Iphigeneia."
Kallias wiped sleep from his eyes. "Ridiculous! I see no bird. The gods haven't demanded a human sacrifice in hundreds of years."
"Not sacrifice, Lord Kallias, dedication. I'll bend to the generals' request and sail with the fleet. I can't follow the path of the divine virgin, but she still has use of me. We'll offer a hind in my place."
Kallias took her hands in his, shook his head. "Last night, your tears provoked my pity. I now call back what I said. Don't risk this trip into the jaws of death. I can't bear to see you and the child in peril, two lives joined with mine as I've sworn before Zeus."
Melaina wondered again at this renewed commitment, but put a finger to his lips. "Listen, Lord Kallias. It's as if the winds here on Delos are those absent at Aulis that cost Iphigeneia her life."
"Still, this is a man's war."
"Look at it through mine eyes, and see the right of it. The first time I set foot on Salamis, during the earthquake, and during my prayer the night before the sea battle, all the strength of Hellas turned to me. And now, these ships, whither they sail, depend upon me."
"No. It's blind arrogance to think that all depends upon you."
Melaina faltered. She fell quiet a moment, but then took Kallias' hand, pulled it to her breast. "Dearest Kallias, how I wish you were right, but I know better. The battle must be fought before a temple of Demeter and Kore. Just as my mother must be at Plataea before a temple there, so must I be at one in Ionia. Put me where you will, in the bilge, on the prow, at the stern. Wherever I'm least likely to cause disruption."
"But this will be a sea battle. You were right earlier. I did promise your father that I'd keep you safe."
"He'd want his daughter to show courage. Besides, you'll need me even more if fighting at sea. I'll create a temple aboard ship. The wrath of Demeter over the burning of Eleusis howls inside me. Through the Mother and Maid, goddesses of divine deliverance, we have the power to rid the Aegean and all Ionian Hellas of barbarian suppression forevermore."
"This would be unfair to the unborn. Board the next boat back to Eleusis and the arms of your mother."
"And not to your mother and our home?" she said, once again noticing his vacillation. Still, her mind in this matter was set. "I mustn't cling to life too fondly, Lord Kallias. If the unnamed babe is indeed divine, let the deity who came to me in the dark protect it. I'll give my life, as centuries ago did Iphigeneia, for Hellas. I'll even risk the divine child's life. But take me aboard, and throw off the yoke of Persia."
Thus, she spoke convincingly, and Kallias rose from bed, leaving to wake his comrades.
"She's agreed to go," he said.
Word spread like fire along a dry hillside in autumn when all turns golden and lifeless, and a spark of flint may start a raging heat. So the warriors were heard in song throughout the island, their hearts inflamed. "The priestess accompanies us!" rang the cry.
"We'll need priestess Keladeine," Melaina told them.
Quickly, they drove a red female deer from the sacred herd to the mountain's lofty summit, ghostly shapes of nearby Mykonos and Reneia hovering off shore, exposed by the blinding flash of Zeus' lightning. The men heaped a stone altar, and all hunkered over at the crash of thunder, wreathing their brows with myrtle.
Priestess Keladeine came forward, invoking Artemis with many prayers as she poured libations on the blazing hearth, and with Kallias, beseeched the goddess turn aside the stormy blasts. At Keladeine's command, youths danced a measure in full armor, clashing swords against their shields to lose the ill-omened wail of wind in the din.
At the edge of firelight appeared beasts of wild wood, wolves and rabbits that had left their lairs and thickets to witness the dedication to their patron goddess. The generals feasted and sang praise to the goddess of Kynthos, Artemis most venerable.
As the fire raged, Kallias cried, "Look, Melaina, in the east! What constellation is that rising above Ionia's far shore?"
"Giant Orion," she answered shouting over the wind's blast, "Artemis' hunting companion and her one true love, chasing the Pleiads' sevenfold track. A son of Poseidon, Orion could walk on waves. This is just one more sign that Artemis broods over this narrow isle and directs us ever toward Asia. Stack on the rest of the hind, Lord Kallias, lean rump pieces and sturdy shanks."
"Thigh bones and fat are all tradition demands."
"Artemis would have more than my fat and thighbones."
Melaina saw priestess Keladeine step back out of sight, Kimon standing alongside her, and the effeminate Scythian close by. She'd not noticed them before, but now the Scythian led two blind slaves on ropes. She started to ask about them, then thought better of it. Melaina remembered the reason Keladeine was here at Delos. "I have but one additional request. Keladeine must go with me."
"By whose will does her plight
carry any importance?"
"Apollo at Delphi commanded her. She's been on Delos two long months awaiting a boat to Ionia. Yield to divine will, Lord Kallias. Artemis is the great mother goddess of Asia. Long she's suffered her temple at Ephesus in Persian hands. She needs Keladeine as priestess there."
Keladeine stepped forward from the dark. "I beg in the name of all you have at home, do not leave me here."
Kallias shook his head, but spoke to the generals, who eagerly consented.
"Then bring the dog too," Kallias said. "We'll see if he's any more than a nuisance." He took a long look at the Scythian. "Bring the barbarian also. We'll need all the help we can get." But he balked at the blind men. "The sightless will be of no use. See that they remain on Delos." He turned to the Scythian. "By the gods, man. What form of being is a Scythian that he'd blind another man and lead him about on a rope?"
Melaina held young Keladeine fast to her.
The sacrifice complete, the generals scattered the ashes, descended the hill, and the call went out urging all aboard.
"Hegesistratus!" cried Xanthippus, "stand lookout aboard the lead trireme, guide us to Samos. The other Samians can return in their own ships. In ancient times, Agamemnon missed Troy and made an aborted assault on the wrong city. Let that not happen to us."
Crews frapped their ships with papyrus cables to withstand the violent sea, undergirding hulls weakened during the battle of Salamis. The fleet drew anchor, loosened hawsers from the sacred rocks, and rowed out of Delian harbor, wind and sea still lashing the shore.
*
Melaina stood at the poop deck, watching the lights of ships. She felt moisture between her legs, a sudden sharp pain and gush of water. A wave of panic seized her, and she grabbed Keladeine's arm, realizing that her embryonic membrane had ruptured.
The Mysteries, A Novel of Ancient Eleusis Page 80