Secret of the Oracle

by Saviour Pirotta

  ‘The gods bless you,’ said the aulos player, sniffing at the food before taking a bite.

  Thrax nodded at me to sit next to him. ‘That’s a nicely carved flute, sir,’ he said.

  ‘I whittled it myself up in the mountains,’ said the old beggar. ‘A long time ago when I could still see. It has been a very faithful companion. Her and old Aphrodite, my dog. Aphrodite is long gone now. Only the aulos remains.’

  Thrax chewed his bread. ‘You play it well. I love goatherd music. It’s sad and playful at the same time.’

  The old beggar seemed delighted by Thrax’s words. ‘My name is Tros. You have heard goatherd music often, then?’

  ‘I grew up in the country,’ said Thrax.

  ‘I would still be up on the mountain if it were not for my eyes,’ said Tros. ‘But the ground gets too slippery with snow and frost and the mountain air is too harsh on my aging bones.’

  ‘It must have been lonely being a goatherd, with only a flute and your dog for company,’ said Thrax.

  The beggar smiled wistfully. ‘Ah, but I had many friends on the mountain. Other goatherds, and hunters who came in search of wild boar and deer. And the caves were full of people too. Those who can afford it come to Delphi to seek the advice of Apollo the sun god. But in the winter months others climb up to the caves to consult Pan or worship Dionysus and the earth goddess.’

  Tros gazed up at Mount Parnassus with his sightless eyes.

  ‘You mean there is a second oracle on Mount Parnassus?’ I asked.

  ‘If you follow the path that goes past the missing girl’s house, you will come to a cave high up in the mountain. Sacred water drips through its roof, filling it with the power of the gods. The priests call it the Corcyian cave. We know it as the cave of shadows. There are women there who can tell you your future or make you a powerful charm for a few obols. They consult the earth goddess through the knucklebones or the stones.’

  Tros finished the snack and wiped his hands on his dirty chiton. ‘This red-haired girl who ran away. She too can read the knucklebones. The goatherds say she is very talented. The earth goddess has given her much power. In time, she will be even more respected than her mentor.’

  ‘The girl has a mentor?’ said Thrax.

  Tros nodded and smiled, showing the stumpy remains of brown teeth.

  From the corner of my eye, I spotted Belos buying fried fish from the wandering seller. I hoped he wouldn’t spot us. The idea of another fight with his gang filled me with dread.

  ‘What’s the mentor’s name, do you know?’ asked Thrax, taking a coin out of my purse and dropping it in Tros’s bowl.

  ‘No one knows her real name,’ answered the old man as he raised the aulos to his lips. ‘But her followers call her Mother Kessandra. You will find her in the Corcyian cave.’

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  Mother Kessandra

  Tros’s eerie mountain music followed us as we left the agora with our new petasos and a huge bag of chickpeas for Master Ariston.

  ‘Did you see Belos?’ I asked. ‘He was buying food from the street seller.’

  ‘Yes, I saw him,’ said Thrax. ‘He’s obviously a baker’s apprentice.’

  ‘How did you figure that out?’

  ‘He had flour up to his elbows.’

  I hadn’t even seen Thrax turn his head to look at Belos, so I had no idea how he’d noticed the flour on Belos’s arms.

  ‘We must go and see Mother Kessandra in the Corcyian cave,’ he said. ‘Selene might have told her something that will give us a clue.’

  Visiting Mother Kessandra, however, turned out to be quite a challenge. Master Ariston was so busy with his play, I didn’t have time to even leave the house for three whole days, let alone go up the mountain. Looking out of the window as I worked, I could see Thrax busy with the hives, lifting out honeycombs and scraping the honey into pots. My tummy rumbled with hunger at the sight of them. How I wished I could be out in the open air too, with the spring sun on my back.

  That sun didn’t last for long, though. When, at last, Master Ariston decided we should take a day off, the heavens opened and it rained for the next ten days without stopping. There was so much water cascading down the mountain, the country house was in danger of being swept along with it. The orchard was flooded and we had to sleep indoors.

  Zoe braved the wild weather every day to make sure we were still in one piece and to bring more supplies. She had no more information about Selene to give us. No one had seen her.

  The gods favoured us when at last the rains stopped and Master Ariston ventured out to the baths. He came back with a big grin on his face. ‘One of the local merchants has invited me and Gorgias to join him on a trip to Kirrha tomorrow. He is buying carpets. I might buy one for Mother.’

  The journey to Kirrha and back can be done in a day, with time for shopping and lunch at an inn if one sets off before dawn. Here at last was the perfect opportunity to visit Mother Kessandra.

  We left the country house the moment Master Ariston disappeared down the mountain on Ariana. We took bread and some honey cakes with us but no water; with so much rain, we knew the mountain springs would be overflowing.

  The road to the Corcyian cave was much longer than we expected, following a steep mountain path that became narrower and narrower as we climbed. The only sound was that of burbling water; the streams were indeed full to overflowing after the recent storms. The ground was often muddy and I had to be careful not to slip.

  We entered a dark wood where a small shrine to the nymphs overlooked a spring. We stopped to drink, the water icy on our hands and lips. Refreshed, we moved on and at last the path widened, leading to a small plateau backed with a cliff. It was clear of trees and the entrance to a dark cave loomed before us, an ancient altar standing right in the middle of it.

  ‘This must be it,’ said Thrax. ‘The famous Corcyian cave.’

  ‘The cave of shadows.’

  We made our way past the altar into darkness as solid as rock. We could hear the sound of dripping water, and the distant hum of people praying.

  As our eyes got used to the dark, we could see that the cave stretched into the distance. There were great big pools of water all around us, which caught water dripping from the ceiling. They reflected the shiny blackness of the walls.

  In the distance, in what seemed like a doorway to a second cave, a fire was burning. People were sitting around it, stiff and immobile as if in a trance. They were the ones making the humming sound. We walked towards them.

  As we got closer, the people stirred and crept away into the darkness, leaving just one figure in the light. A small woman, thin as a spear, with wild black hair and a shawl around her shoulders. Her eyes were closed and the flickering light that rippled across her withered face made her look frightening, like Medusa. A strange snoring sound came from her throat.

  All at once, the woman’s eyes snapped open, making me jump, and she spoke in a hoarse whisper.

  ‘You come to seek the advice of the stones?’

  ‘We are looking for Mother Kessandra,’ replied Thrax. He nodded at me and I placed the honey cakes at her side as a gift.

  The woman held a hand to her withered chest. ‘This is Mother Kessandra.’

  ‘We need information about a girl,’ said Thrax. ‘Selene, the farmer’s daughter.’

  The woman’s eyes flickered at the mention of Selene’s name. ‘Who seeks this knowledge?’

  ‘We are new friends of her family,’ answered Thrax. ‘Selene has disappeared.’

  Mother Kessandra’s face twitched but she said nothing.

  ‘Her mother has begged us to find her,’ Thrax volunteered.

  Very slowly, Mother Kessandra held out a cup and rattled it. ‘Pick one stone each.’

  Thrax and I both drew a pebble.

  ‘Hold them up to the fire. Let me see them.’

  We opened our hands to show her.

  ‘A red for the well-built child,’ whispered Mother Kessandra. �
��The courage is strong within you.’ She peered at my stone. ‘Green for the well fed one. You are a child of kindness.’

  She took both pebbles and pressed them to her forehead. ‘The power of the stones assures me you are to be trusted. I shall speak. Selene came to see me about a nightmare that keeps her awake at night. A bad dream where she is being pursued by a man riding a monstrous turtle. He chases her along a raging river, where the water and the darkness threaten to swallow her up. He drives her right over the edge of a precipice, into a bottomless void. Her dream ends there. She wakes up without knowing if she is to drown or to live.’

  ‘How long ago was this?’ asked Thrax.

  ‘Winter. The mountains were still covered in snow.’

  ‘I believe Selene was kidnapped,’ said Thrax. ‘Could the man on the turtle be the kidnapper?’

  Mother Kessandra shook her little clay cup and the pebbles tumbled out close to the fire. She inspected them for a long while, her fingers rippling over them. ‘The stones have not fallen in the pattern I seek. The goddess refuses to speak.’

  She brushed the pebbles aside and looked from Thrax to me. ‘Continue to seek my pupil, I beg you. But beware! Both of you are in mortal danger.’

  CHAPTER TWELVE

  Ambush!

  ‘That was all very dramatic,’ I said as we left the cave. ‘And I have to admit, quite scary too.’

  ‘It was meant to be,’ said Thrax. ‘That’s how oracles operate, by scaring you into believing them. But even if she is a fake, old Mother Kessandra did give us a very good clue. The man riding the monstrous turtle.’

  ‘Surely we can’t base our investigations on a dream?’

  ‘I once heard someone talk about dreams at a symposium. He mentioned a famous philosopher who lived long ago. His name was Thales of Miletus and he believed that things in our lives are not determined by the gods as we believe. They are determined by us mortals and our actions. I do not believe dreams come from the rulers of Mount Olympus. They come from somewhere deep within us, from an unknown part of ourselves. They are sent to guide us and to alert us to danger.’

  ‘So are you saying that Selene was warned in a dream that she would be kidnapped by a man on a turtle – and her dream came true?’

  ‘I don’t think the kidnapper was actually riding a turtle,’ said Thrax. ‘Perhaps that’s how Selene saw him in her dreams. But in some way the kidnapper has a connection with turtles.’

  ‘We saw Milo actually riding a turtle,’ I gasped. ‘But surely he can’t be a kidnapper. He wouldn’t harm a fly, let alone a child.’

  ‘Ha, there’s more to Milo than meets the eye,’ said Thrax.

  ‘What makes you say that?’

  ‘Those bruises on his face for a start,’ said Thrax. ‘It looked to me like he had been in a fight.’

  ‘I thought he might have slipped on the shore and banged his face, or fallen off his horse.’

  ‘Those bruises were made by a fist. You could actually make out the outlines of the knuckles.’

  The steep path from the cave of shadows started to level out and we entered the wood. Suddenly a blood-curdling roar made me jump. On either side of us, dark figures leaped out of the bushes. We were surrounded by a gang wielding cudgels.

  Thrax, his muscled clenched, swooped at the ground and came back up with a thick fallen branch. He smashed it in two across his thigh and handed one half to me.

  ‘Stay close, Nico.’

  I tried to say yes but no sound came out of my mouth. My voice always lets me down when I’m terrified. Our attackers, their himations pulled over their heads, closed in on us. Thrax leaped at them. I heard him grunt as he lashed out with the cudgel and several of our assailants fell back, blood soaking their himations.

  I tried to raise my own cudgel but it was snatched from me in an instant. Someone kicked my feet out from under me and sent me reeling to the ground. I lay in the dirt, my body shaking with pain and my face burning with shame.

  Why couldn’t I ever help Thrax when he needed me?

  Somehow that shaming thought gave me courage. I screamed and leaped back to my feet. A moment later my teeth were clamped firmly on a fleshy arm close to me. My victim roared with pain and I saw the fist on his other arm rushing at my face. It wasn’t fast enough. A knock from Thrax’s stick sent the boy sprawling into the bushes.

  ‘Well done, Nico,’ he said. ‘That’s another one down.’

  Just then a piercing whistle sounded and goatherds started jumping down from the trees. They fell on the assailants, hitting out with their rounded crooks. I have no idea how long the fight lasted but when it was over there were no dark figures left. They had all dragged themselves back into the woods.

  ‘We stand in your debt,’ said Thrax, throwing away the cudgel. He had a new black eye and bruises on both his arms. I myself had a cut on my right knee and I could feel a burning pain spreading across my back.

  ‘Old Tros asked us to look out for you,’ said the goatherd. ‘He’s my great uncle.’

  ‘We must go to the agora and thank him,’ I said, trying to brush the dirt from my chiton. ‘You helped us survive our first encounter with mountain bandits.’

  ‘Those hoodlums weren’t mountain bandits,’ said Thrax. ‘Mountain bandits don’t roar before they attack. They lie in wait to ambush you. Anyway, bandits haven’t been able to get to Mount Parnassus for a while. There was a massive rockfall in the winter and the mountain pass is blocked. It will take months to clear it. We were attacked by kids from the city.’

  Kids from the city! Perhaps they were the gang we met on our first night, trying to get their promised revenge. Or did someone know we were looking for Selene?

  The goatherds saw us to the edge of the wood and we continued down the mountain. I tried not to wince at the pain as I hobbled on my injured leg. Mother Kessandra’s warning had come true a bit too quickly for my liking. This was turning out to be quite a dangerous adventure.

  CHAPTER THIRTEEN

  Milo’s Secret Meeting

  ‘Not again,’ cried Master Ariston when he saw our new injuries. ‘You two are turning into proper cuthroats.’

  His face was pale and he was shaking all over. The trip to Kirrha had been very enjoyable but Master Ariston had come back with his guts on fire.

  ‘Never ever eat shellfish in a harbour town, boys,’ he groaned, clutching his belly. ‘Your master is poisoned. I do not expect to see the sunrise.’

  Thrax and I got him into bed. I cooled his forehead with a wet rag while Thrax made him a drink of hot water and mint to settle his stomach. Once he was asleep, we left a large chamber pot by his bed just in case and climbed up into the tree house.

  I took out my wax tablet and made some notes, clutching the Medusa League medallion at my neck. So much in this case was happening so quickly, I wanted to make sure I wouldn’t forget anything.

  ‘Nico,’ Thrax said from his cot, ‘I know you think Milo is too gentle a man to be a kidnapper but he is the only suspect we have at the moment. Let’s tail him and see what happens.’

  ‘We’ll start tomorrow if we can,’ I said, putting the wax tablet on its special shelf. ‘And let’s hope we don’t get attacked again. Goodnight, Thrax.’

  ‘Goodnight.’

  We got up before dawn to find Master Ariston still too weak to get out of bed. Thrax made him more hot water and mint, cleaned his face and arms with a wet rag, and emptied the chamber pot in the garden.

  ‘Nico and I are going out, master,’ he said. ‘We’ve left a note for Zoe to make you some more medicine when she arrives. Don’t be tempted to eat any rich food or it’ll take you longer to get better.’

  Master Ariston was too sick to argue. I felt bad about leaving him alone when he might need our help, but it must have been the gods themselves urging us on with our investigation. That day we were to discover the most important clue in our case.

  As far as we knew, Gorgias and Milo were still lodging in the centre of Delphi. We made our w
ay there, both pulling up our himations over our heads.

  ‘There’s a tavern across the road from the inn,’ said Thrax. ‘Order us something to drink, Nico. If someone asks, we’re waiting for our master.’

  We didn’t have to wait long before we saw Gorgias trotting out of the inn on his horse. Solon followed on a donkey. The innkeeper came rushing out after them, a white cleaning rag flapping in his hand.

  ‘Will you be wanting lunch, sir?’

  ‘No, I am dining with friends.’

  Not long afterwards Milo left the inn on foot. He was frowning and his chiton, normally pristine, was all crumpled. The innkeeper bustled out behind him.

  ‘Will you be wanting lunch, sir? We have a stew of wild onions especially for you.’

  Milo ignored him and walked on. Thrax and I waited until he was halfway down the street, then tucked our belts around our chitons and followed him. He led us to a large commercial stable on the outskirts of Delphi, where he banged the doorknocker and was let in. When he came out again, he was riding a black horse.

  ‘How odd,’ I said. ‘Milo has his own horse. Why is he using a different one?’

  ‘He doesn’t want anyone to know he’s going for a ride,’ said Thrax. ‘I think he’s leaving Delphi. Wait here for me, Nico.’

  He knocked on the stable door and was let in too. A few moments later he came out, holding the reins of a chestnut-coloured horse.

  ‘How did you pay for that?’ I gasped.

  He laughed. ‘Not an obol. Stables always have at least one horse who’s too skittish for most people to ride. I offered to borrow this one to help break her in. Her name is Rhea.’

  ‘But how did you get the stable master to trust you?’

  ‘The stable master is an aging woman,’ said Thrax. ‘I used my boyish charms. Now hurry up before she changes her mind.’

  He helped me up on to Rhea’s glossy back and we trotted down the street. I was afraid the beast might suddenly rear up and throw us off but, under Thrax’s spell, she was as docile as a dove.