Voyage of the Snake Lady

by Theresa Tomlinson

  They both turned to watch Phoebe, who had gone unbidden to Phestus, the man with the arrow stuck through his hand. She neatly snapped off the flight close to the wound, then took hold of the double barb that had pierced right through the hand. With a movement that was both strong and swift, she pulled the narrow shaft right through.

  The man gave a sharp cry and fainted, but he quickly came to again to find that his young helper had stopped the flow of blood and was now neatly bandaging his hand.

  The captain watched it all, blinking and rubbing his eyes. “I think I am still asleep and dreaming,” he murmured.

  “You are not asleep!” Myrina hauled him roughly to his feet. “And you need all your wits about you! What is your name?”

  “Seris . . . madam! Captain Seris!” He bowed, courteous at last.

  “Well, Seris—if you are any kind of a sea captain, get us to Tauris harbor as fast as you can!”

  Chapter Thirty-One

  Swim for Your Lives

  AS THE SHIP moved away from the quayside, Phoebe came to help Myrina dress her own freshly bleeding wound, but then they both noticed Tamsin’s small chin trembling as she held back tears.

  “What is it?” Myrina asked.

  “The horses!” Tamsin whispered.

  Big Chief snorted loudly on the quayside, his ears set back in distress. Snowboots stamped her hooves, and Sandmane snaked her head in anxiety as the oars dipped in unison and the great ship moved away. Myrina had a moment of panic. How could she have forgotten the horses? Though the galley was large enough to find room for the beasts aboard, she dared not lose more time by going back for them. She stumbled over to the gunwales and shouted like a fisherwoman, cupping her mouth with bloody hands, putting every last drop of strength into her lungs. “Zeygut! Zeygut!” she cried. “Follow!”

  Big Chief tossed his head and snorted again. How could he follow a ship setting out to sea?

  “Zeygut!” Myrina shouted again, waving her arm toward the high cliffs.

  Tamsin clapped her hand to her mouth to cover her distress, but at last, as the crew raised the brail sail to catch the wind, Big Chief turned away from the water and began to lead the two mares back up the steep cliffs that soared away toward the west.

  Tamsin and Phoebe watched them anxiously from the deck as the sun rose steadily to its zenith. The Castor and Pollux sailed westward up the coast, while the dark silhouettes of the horses could be seen in the distance, keeping a steady pace, the ship forever in their sights.

  Once under way Captain Seris began to take charge of his crew with enthusiasm. He marched up and down the length of the ship, groaning a little as his side twinged with pain and snapping at anyone who did not keep good time. Soon he had the ship skimming over the waves, and Myrina’s spirits rose.

  “Well . . . my fine Amazon,” Seris asked her at last, “are you going to tell me what we are to do when we get to Tauris?”

  Myrina was still half annoyed by his manner, but she knew that quarreling further with him would only slow them down again so she answered him back in kind.

  “Well, my fine captain”—she eyed him with a touch of humor—“you are going to anchor out here in the sea, close to Tauris harbor, and send one of your small boats in through the narrow cut with a crew of brave fellows to rescue your master and his friend!”

  “Just one small boat? That will do? We believed the Taurians had sacrificed Orestes to their fierce goddess! Will they give him up to us without a struggle? Will one small boatload be enough to batter down the walls of King Thoas’s jail?”

  Myrina made a wry face; she knew that his questions were far from serious, but they brought to the surface her own real doubts. She wasn’t sure about her plan but it was the best she could think up, so they must make it work.

  “We will need two boats,” she corrected herself. “Orestes will be there bathing in the shallow water and his sister—Iphigenia—will release him. Then we—”

  “What!” Captain Seris cut in, giving her his full attention. “Iphigenia! You cannot mean . . . ?”

  Myrina turned to him with a long, hard look. She was reluctant to put her trust in him, but without it they would have little chance of success. “Yes,” she said quietly. “His very own sister.”

  Now the man stared at her with renewed respect, giving a low whistle, all trace of humor gone. “Tell me how.”

  So as the ship rose and fell, cutting along the coast of the Inhospitable Sea, Myrina explained as much as she could. Seris listened, shaking his head with amazement, and she saw that a touch of excitement gleamed in his eye. Was his appetite for adventure returning?

  “Well?” At last she paused in her telling. “Can we do it, do you think?”

  Seris grinned wolfishly. “We will do it or die trying!” he told her.

  Now Myrina laughed. “I hope it will not come to that.”

  As the ship sailed on, Tamsin kept her worried gaze fixed on the distant movement of the horses, but as they arrived at the outer entrance to Tauris harbor the beasts could still be seen, looking down on them from the high cliffs close to where the temple was situated. Myrina went to speak to the girls.

  “I want to know that you are both safe aboard the Castor and Pollux; as soon as I have Iphigenia free we will meet again in the Bay of Yalushta.”

  “And then will we ride back to find the Moon Riders?” Phoebe spoke with longing.

  “Yes, we will.”

  “And will Iphigenia ride with us?” Tamsin asked.

  Myrina hesitated and then sighed. “I think she may choose to go with her brother to Athens.”

  “And not with us?” Tamsin found it hard.

  “But we will know that she is safe and free.” Myrina tried to comfort them although her own heart was heavy at the thought of losing Iphigenia yet again.

  “You will make sure Snowboots and Sandmane are safe?” Tamsin looked at her mother solemnly.

  “I will do my best.” Myrina was unwilling to make more promises that she was not sure she could keep. “Now, Katya”—she touched the older girl’s arm—“you and I have much to do and to talk about. I believe we will see your grandmother safe and content, but you are going to have to be brave.”

  In the center of Tauris a crowd was gathering as the sun began to sink in the west. News had flown around the town that Hepsuash was angry. The people came out into the streets, dressed in their best, ready for the sacrifice, but the gossip was all about the extraordinary things that had happened last night.

  “The guards are saying that the old priestess, Nonya, was discovered in the temple trying to murder Hepsuash!” one old woman whispered to her daughter.

  “No! How could she get in there?”

  “Dark powers . . .” Her friend gave a sharp nod. “She always did possess dark powers! That’s why we call her witch!”

  “Well . . . they say Thoas is furious,” the old one whispered. “He has thrown his captain of the guard into jail and put Ledus in charge! He says that his warriors are as stupid as beasts, so they might as well have the ostler lead them!”

  Soon a new rumor swept through the town—that Hepsuash was insisting that the two Chosen Ones be taken down to the beach and purified in the sea.

  “She vows that if she must perform a sacrifice she will do it her way.”

  “Both the Chosen Ones and the sacred statue of Artemis must be washed in the sea.”

  Gradually, as the word spread, people began to head for the small beach by the harbor instead of the temple on the hill. An atmosphere of excitement grew at the news of this impromptu ceremony, and though there had been little time to prepare for it, the townsfolk came down to the water’s edge, carrying wreaths of flowers.

  The only ones who were not enthusiastic were Thoas and Nonya. The old priestess glared around her furiously as she was led down to the sea in chains. The crowd murmured that Hepsuash intended to drown her as punishment.

  “Serve her right!”

  “Drowning’s too good
for her!”

  “Look—here they come!”

  The king rode in procession down to the harbor, following Hepsuash, his face glum. Somehow he felt that he’d been tricked, though he couldn’t be sure exactly how or why. How could Hepsuash, whom he’d loved for her peace and gentleness, suddenly make up her mind to waste the two lives that she’d once so stalwartly defended? This was not the outcome he’d wished for when he insisted that the sacrifice should go ahead.

  Nonya’s eyes never left the small figure of Hepsuash, who rode on Moonbeam, her face impassive.

  When they reached the beach, Iphigenia dismounted and ordered the two young men into the sea, their hands still tied with golden ropes; two slaves who carried the figurehead statue of Artemis received the same command.

  “This must be purified, too.”

  It was only when she followed them into the water that she allowed herself a glimpse in the direction of the narrow cut in the cliffs that formed the harbor entrance. “Will they come in time?” she murmured.

  As the people watched, Iphigenia waded into the sea with the Chosen Ones carrying a small pitcher made of gold. “Deeper!” she ordered.

  Farther and farther out they went, while the Taurians watched fascinated by the new ceremony that Hepsuash had invented. Her fine priestess’s robes were soaked but she ignored the water until it almost reached her shoulders. Orestes and Pylades followed obediently until the water rose well above their waists. Iphigenia began to scoop up pitchers full of seawater and pour them over the heads and shoulders of the two young victims, whispering to them all the time, as though it were some religious chant. The crowd was hushed and respectful. What would Hepsuash do next?

  At last Iphigenia glanced toward the narrow cut and saw what she wished to see. Before anyone could tell what was happening, she had brought the sharp sacrificial knife from the pouch at her waist and sliced through the golden bonds of the intended victims.

  “Swim,” she told them. “Swim for your lives!”

  The Chosen Ones were ready for this command. They launched themselves in the direction of an oncoming boat, gliding fast through the water to safety.

  “What is happening?”

  “Where are they going!”

  “Ah! Two boats are coming!”

  “What is this?”

  Shock and surprise at what had happened took a moment or two to sink in, but then the crowd began to stir, shouting at each other. Thoas looked up from his gloomy thoughts and quickly knew why he’d sensed deceit.

  “Hepsuash!” he growled. “What have you done?”

  The two young men swam on toward the boats, but Iphigenia turned her back on them to face the anger of King Thoas and his people.

  Chapter Thirty-Two

  A New Hepsuash

  “TAKE HEPSUASH CAPTIVE!” the king ordered his guards. But it wasn’t easy for the guards to struggle through the crowds to get at the deceitful priestess. The howling of threats and promises of vengeance faded a little as the Taurians saw that their Lady from the Sea had no intention of evading their anger. She walked slowly back to face them, carefully sheathing her knife. It looked as though she would speak to them.

  “Take her!” Thoas ordered again, but the crowd stubbornly stood in the way, quieter now.

  It seemed they wanted to hear her speak.

  In the distance Orestes and Pylades were hauled into the first boat, which turned swiftly and rowed back through the narrow crevice that led to the open sea. People watched with wild curiosity as the second boat came steadily on toward them.

  At last Ledus managed to break through the crowd and march with a group of determined guards, swords drawn, toward Iphigenia. But before he could reach her, a cry rang out from the oncoming boat. “Lakati! Lakati!”

  It was Myrina crying out the Mazagardi command “defend.” No sooner had she shouted the strange words than the sound of hooves and the bellow of charging horses could be heard. Big Chief had made his way down from the cliff tops to the foreshore, just a little way from where the crowd gathered. Now at Myrina’s command he galloped furiously through the shallow water to where Iphigenia stood, followed by Snowboots and Sandmane. Hepsuash’s own mare, Moonbeam, splashed forward into the sea and they quickly formed a protective ring about the small figure of Iphigenia, snorting fiercely and tossing their manes. The armed men backed away.

  Thoas’s mouth dropped open as he watched; then at last he managed to cry out, “What kind of witchery is this, that even animals defend the woman?”

  The people were frightened and staggered back. Iphigenia leaped lightly onto Moonbeam’s back. Then she urged the mare forward, still flanked on three sides by the other horses.

  “Thoas!” she called. At once the Taurians fell silent, every one of them straining to hear what she would say. “Thoas . . . I beg forgiveness.”

  Her voice dropped lower, but the silence was so great that all could hear.

  “Taurians,” she said, turning her head to encompass the whole of the gathering, “I beg forgiveness of you all. I have deceived you, but I had no choice. You would force me to commit murder, but no goddess of mine would wish for the blood of innocent strangers. You deserve to know the truth about me. You took me from the sea and honored me as your priestess, you called me the Lady from the Sea, but I am not your Hepsuash! I was born far away from these shores and given another name—I am Iphigenia!”

  There were gasps all around and Thoas turned a little pale, but he waited for her to say more.

  “Yes—I am the daughter of Agamemnon, lost to my family and cursed by my father. But now I beg your forbearance and understanding of my actions; for I have discovered that the dark-haired boy whom you would have sacrificed is none other than my brother Orestes!”

  There were more gasps of shock and a few murmurings of sympathy. Thoas scowled, trying hard to take in what it all meant, but Iphigenia continued, anxious not to let her moment slip away.

  “You were right to set me in the temple of Artemis, for the goddess has always favored me ever since she saw me rescued so many years ago from the sacrificial knife!”

  Myrina watched from the second boat with admiration, her heart in her mouth. She of all people knew how hard it was for her quiet friend to speak these words to such a huge and dangerous audience. Gradually Iphigenia’s voice gained in strength. “The goddess is angry indeed. She does not want blood sacrifices dropped into the sea; what she wants is respect.”

  She turned her head to where Nonya stood, still in chains, at the water’s edge. “And the goddess demands respect for those who have served her in the past, handing on the role from mother to daughter, year after year.”

  Suddenly all eyes were on Nonya, who looked bewildered. There was a sense of unease as many of those present remembered guiltily that they had chased the old woman away and stoned her daughter. They were astonished to hear Iphigenia suggesting that they take the grim old priestess back into their hearts. But Agamemnon’s daughter was not finished with them yet.

  “I will not steal away from Tauris like a thief,” she insisted. “I will not go like an ungrateful child and leave you without a priestess to lead your worship. I give you my sacred statue of Artemis and I bring you a new Hepsuash; a new girl from the sea.”

  Myrina saw Nonya’s head shoot up, her face full of suspicion again, but as Iphigenia swung out her arm to indicate the approaching boat, Nonya—along with all the Taurians—suddenly smiled with wonder and under-standing.

  “Here is your new Hepsuash,” Iphigenia cried.

  There in the prow of Myrina’s boat sat Katya. She was dressed in the beautiful blue priestess’s robe that Myrina had worn as she escaped through the tunnel. Myrina had twisted her hair into a high coif, a golden diadem made by Kuspada was set in her shining locks, and a necklace of Sinta gold gleamed about her throat.

  “Stand up!” Myrina whispered. “Make sure that they can all see you!”

  Though the boat wobbled a little, Katya rose gracefully to
her feet. There were gasps of admiration; in the soft pink light of the setting sun, this slim young woman with her head held high gleamed like a goddess herself.

  “Take her to your hearts,” Iphigenia cried.

  There was a small outburst of applause, then they began to chant a welcome. “Hepsuash! Hepsuash! Come to us! Hepsuash!”

  The Taurians sang with wild enthusiasm, waving and throwing flowers toward the little boat that carried their new priestess. Almost every eye was on Katya, but Myrina looked in a different direction. She turned her head first to observe the king’s reaction and was well pleased with what she saw. A smile touched the corner of Thoas’s mouth as his eyes lighted on Katya with some surprise, but also rapt admiration.

  Then she searched for Nonya and was relieved to see that the old woman returned her look with a small fierce nod. Myrina was satisfied; this strange way of keeping her faith with Nonya had been accepted.

  Iphigenia slipped down from Moonbeam’s back, waving forward the two slaves who carried the figurehead statue. She helped Katya out of the boat and led her by the hand through the shallows and onto the beach, where she presented the statue to her while the crowd cheered wildly.

  Katya held up her hand to speak and everyone fell quiet. “If you wish it, I will be your Hepsuash, but first I must beg a favor of your king.”

  Everyone looked at Thoas, but he could only stare at the beautiful new priestess with astonished admiration.

  “Please,” Katya pleaded with quiet dignity, “set my grandmother free.”

  Thoas tore his eyes away from her face for just a moment, and without hesitation he ordered the guards to release the old woman from her chains. Nonya stared at her granddaughter openmouthed, as though she were a stranger, but then at last she smiled and respectfully bowed her head. Katya ran to take her grandmother into her arms while they both cried tears of joy.

  Myrina jumped out of the boat and splashed through the shallows to Iphigenia. They exchanged a look of wondering relief; it seemed their plan had worked, but Myrina saw that there was still a touch of anxiety in Iphigenia’s eyes.