Cassandra smiled. “Tip it just a little to the side,” she said.
Iphigenia obeyed and they all gasped: as the smooth shining surface tipped, they could suddenly see that it was marred in four places, but those four breaks had been carefully placed. They were so slight that they were hardly there, but once you had started to look at them, it didn’t take too much imagination to see that the marks represented two eyes, a nose and a wide, generous mouth.
Once she had seen it, Iphigenia gasped. “A face that smiles at us! Why have I never seen it before?”
“You never needed to look for it before.”
“No . . . the face is full of sadness,” Orestes insisted. “But who . . . ?”
Myrina suddenly felt that she understood. “The goddess!” she whispered, her voice low with excitement. “It shows us the image of the goddess!”
Orestes saw what she meant. “Could this be the image that I have been seeking? I was looking for the ancient image of Artemis!”
“This goddess can be Artemis to you Achaeans, or Rhea to the Hittites,” Cassandra replied; “to the Moon Riders she is Maa. We see whichever goddess we want to see. The magic is in the simplicity; it shows the face that all true seekers wish to find.”
Orestes smiled in wonder, shaking his head. “My sister had the precious image there beside her all the time. She and the magical image are one and the same. I am blessed.”
Iphigenia smiled with joy as she turned to him. “The curse is already lifting. The fates are beginning to smile on us.”
So with this treasure, Orestes and Iphigenia at last managed to tear themselves away from Sminthe and their friends. Myrina stood beside Cassandra on the beach, watching the lift and dip of the new oars as the Castor and Pollux moved out into the deep blue Aegean Sea. Seris swung the steering oar about and ordered the sail to be unfurled.
“You knew about that mirror all along,” Myrina accused, her mouth twitching with humor.
“There’s a right moment and a wrong moment for telling,” Cassandra told her firmly. “That was the right moment.”
They watched the sail bell out to catch the wind as the ship headed away from them, shrinking smaller and smaller as every moment passed. At last they turned away and walked back up the beach. Myrina was quiet and thoughtful; Seris’s generous warning not to wait too long to return to Kuspada had touched her.
“And has the right moment come for you?” Cassandra asked, as though she picked up her thoughts. “I cannot see my fierce Snake Lady staying here forever in the peace of Sminthe.”
Myrina looked at her with sadness. “It is hard to think of leaving,” she acknowledged. “But I do long to live as a Mazagardi once again, and when I gazed in my mirror last night, I saw the devoted man who still waits for me beside the Sinta River. I must travel north to release him from his dreary watch, but I fear to drag the girls away from this lovely place on such a long harsh journey.”
“It is a long journey,” Cassandra agreed, “but you need not make it all alone.”
“You would come?”
Cassandra shook her head sadly. “I am needed here too much, but here, close to the foothills of Mount Ida, we are well placed to watch all the comings and goings, the traders and the camel trains. I had word this morning from a trader I know who was once a captain of the guard in the city of Troy.”
“Aah.” Myrina looked at her with interest. “A camel train, you say!”
“Cornelius is on his way from Ephesus, having heard of the death of Neoptolemus. He will be here in three days’ time, with his camel train of goods, and will go as far north as the Caucasus Mountains. The young Ant Man’s death has freed up the old traveling routes.”
Myrina caught her breath with pleasure at the thought. The journey would follow many of the old ways along which her own lost tribe, the Mazagardi, traveled when she was a child. “We would go past the Place of Flowing Waters,” she said. “And travel close to the Nest of Maa, where Centaurea raises her fledgling warrior priestesses. Such a journey would bring much joy,” she admitted.
Cassandra smiled encouragement. “The girls are young and brave, always ready for a new adventure. They will have so much to tell their friends when they reach their journey’s end.”
Myrina saw that this was true. “I cursed the fates when they smashed our mast and sent us skittering off course, but I would never have seen you again, if it were not for that storm.”
“The fates can never hold you prisoner.” Cassandra spoke solemnly. “Our brave Snake Lady must go where she will.”
“Will your trader friend be willing to take us, do you think?”
Cassandra had no hesitation. “Cornelius carries oil and olives up through the Caucasus Mountains and comes back with heavy iron goods. He would appreciate the support of a good archer on horseback—there are bears in those mountains as well as thieves.”
“Quite an adventure!” Myrina grasped her friend’s hand. “You understand me so well.”
Cassandra clung to her for a moment and her mouth trembled with love as she spoke, but she was determined to say what she must. “There was once a friendless princess, rejected by her own family, for they thought her mad, but . . . she met a crafty sharp-tongued snake lady, who became her friend and the only one she could really trust. She will never forget that crafty one.”
Myrina kissed her and they sat together holding hands until the sun had gone.
Both Phoebe and Tamsin stamped a foot when they heard of the journey that Myrina planned. “Why go? We love it here,” they said.
Myrina knew that it was the sweetness of the Mouse Boy’s smile that made them both wish to stay. She could not blame either of them, for Chryse had won her heart, too. She felt guilty at the thought of dragging them away, but the image of the watcher by the Sinta River was strong in her mind.
“I could leave you here with Cassandra. I’d trust my oldest friend to care for you better than I do. I will not force either of you to come with me to the cold northern steppe. But if you do, I promise that I will beg Kuspada to make you both fine golden mirrors like mine. Then I will teach you the real magic of a Moon maiden and you will be able to watch those you love, wherever they are, and Sminthe will not seem so very far away.”
Chryse saw the terrible uncertainty that his young friends struggled with. “If you learn the Moon maiden’s magic, I will send you messages. If I hold up my hand like this, it is in greeting. If I touch my heart, it means that I am missing you.”
They smiled at him. “And this,” said Tamsin, closing her fist, “means I wish I could spar with you!”
They all laughed and made up more signs, but then Phoebe turned serious again. “But you have no magic mirror,” she told Chryse.
“I can look for you every day in Cassandra’s dark pool,” he promised solemnly.
“Well then, we had better get ready for our journey,” Phoebe agreed.
“I will need a mirror with two lizards.” Tamsin was already making her plans. “Their tails twisted together at the top.”
Myrina smiled at Cassandra. She would have been true to her word, but it would have wrenched her heart to leave either of them behind.
Cornelius arrived at Sminthe on the evening of the full moon. He left his camels and drovers camping on the mainland and came to spend the evening at the temple of Sminthean Apollo. Cassandra had prepared a feast for them all, and Myrina watched with approval, remembering the stick-thin princess who would not touch her food. This time it was Myrina who could not eat; her heart pounded with excitement at the adventure that lay ahead, at the same time feeling heavy with sadness at leaving her friends and this place of safety.
The camel drover ate and drank well, appreciating what Myrina could not. He went to his bed replete, while Cassandra, Myrina, and the two girls went down onto the sandy beach, followed by Chryse, who had brought out the oud that his mother had taught him to play. Beneath the full moon they performed the familiar steps of the sacred moon dance, twisting and turning their han
ds in graceful harmony. At the end they linked hands and arms, circling one way and then the other, full of loving smiles and tears.
“Do our sisters in the north dance, too?” Myrina wondered.
“Oh yes,” Cassandra assured her. “They dance beneath the moon just as we do, and they long for the Snake Lady to return.”
Epilogue
LATE IN THE Month of Falling Leaves Cassandra sat by her pool, wrapped in a warm shawl, looking into the still water, her pale face serene. Then, deep in the mysterious depths of the pool, she saw something that made her smile.
“Chryse,” she called. “Come and see!”
The Mouse Boy left his stone trough and went to her. He had to still himself for a moment and let his eyes gaze vaguely beneath the glinting surface, but it wasn’t long before he, too, saw the same wondrous vision as the priestess.
He smiled. “The man does not see them coming.”
There in the dark waters they saw three riders. The older woman rode slightly ahead through falling snow toward a small snow-flecked tent, set upon the edge of a winding riverbank. In the far distance a great camp could be seen, sheltering beneath overhanging rocks that seemed to have the shape of an eagle. But this man had set up his tent away from them; he sat alone by the river, feeding a struggling fire with twigs. He looked up constantly toward the west, as though he thought he might see something, or someone, crossing the river. His horse stood beside him, very still and patient, midnight black.
At last the black stallion pricked up his ears and turned, aware of the riders approaching from the east. The front rider urged her horse on faster and faster and the man got up as he heard the thud of hooves in the snow.
Cassandra and Chryse watched as Myrina swung down from her horse and ran straight into Kuspada’s arms. He swung her off her feet and kissed her as tears rained down his cheeks.
“Now what is he doing?” Chryse asked as they saw the man take an arrow from his quiver and hold it to the embers of his fire until it caught light. He shot the fiery arrow high into the sky, toward the rocks.
The other two riders slipped from their horses and flung themselves at the man. Soon lights appeared in the distance. A great crowd of people dressed in warm skins came toward them through the snow—men and women, many with young babies in their arms, wrapped well against the weather. Some of them rode on horseback; others ran on foot. All waved and danced, their necks gleaming with gold. They surrounded the weary travelers, hugging them passionately. Then they made a circle around the man and the three newcomers, singing and dancing with wild abandon.
Cassandra and the Mouse Boy watched with huge smiles on their faces. “I think the Snake Lady’s journey is over,” Cassandra said. “And the welcome she has found is warm.”
Author’s Note
I FIRST BECAME fascinated by the fabulous legends of the warlike Amazon women when, as a schoolgirl, I studied The Histories of Herodotus in Greek Literature classes. At the time they seemed to be nothing more than exciting and rather shocking stories.
Many years later, a BBC 2 Horizon television program called “The Ice Maiden” renewed my interest in the warrior women. The program recorded the discovery, by archaeologist Natalia Polosmak, of the frozen mummified body of a young woman in the Altai Mountains, believed to have been a high-status priestess or storyteller. I was impressed to hear the female archaeologists relating this find, and other burials of women with weapons, to Herodotus’s stories. It seemed that the Amazons might, after all, have been real nomadic tribeswomen who lived, rode, and fought long ago in the area to the north of and surrounding the Black Sea.
My interest in the subject was fueled by Lyn Webster Wilde’s fascinating book On the Trail of the Women Warriors. I felt inspired to try to write a novel for young adults, based on the ancient legends of the Amazons but also taking on board some of the new ideas that modern archaeologists were bringing to light. The result of this project was The Moon Riders, published in 2003.
I became too involved with my heroine Myrina to let her go, and soon found myself looking again at the legends for inspiration for a second “adventure.”
Herodotus relates the story of the battle between the Greeks and the Amazons at the River Thermodon and tells how the defeated women were captured and herded into ships. According to Herodotus, the women overpowered and killed their captors, but as they knew nothing of seamanship, they were blown across the Black Sea to the land of the Scythians. Here they met, fought with, and eventually intermarried with a group of Scythian men, thus creating the origins of the Sauromatian tribe, whose women were always known to ride and fight. Though this story is usually set in a slightly later time period, I felt that it fitted well with the aftermath of the Trojan War.
The continuation of Iphigenia’s story is based loosely on Euripides’ play Iphigenia at Tauris. Another book—Warrior Women: An Archaeologist’s Search for History’s Hidden Heroines by Jeannine Davis-Kimball, Ph.D., with Mona Behan—supplied more inspiration and helped me to believe that the fierce nomadic tribeswomen of the Black Sea areas really were Herodotus’s Amazons.
The KBR Horse Net website provided helpful information on wild horse behavior, and another website, www.pefkias.gr/, helped me to envisage the Mycenaean ships. http://users.cwnet.com/millenia/scythwrd.html gave me some ideas for ancient Scythian words.
Though most versions of the story have Cassandra killed by Clytemnestra after the fall of Troy, Dares the Phrygian’s version sees Cassandra released by Agamemnon to live on, close to her lost city. Dares’s telling claims to be an eyewitness account of events but seems to be rather discredited by modern historians. However, it was from this version that Chaucer took his inspiration for Troilus and Cressida. I decided that if it was good enough for Chaucer, then it was certainly good enough for me!
The ruins of the temple of Sminthean Apollo (Lord of the Mice) are situated in the southwest corner of the Biga peninsula in Turkey, not far from Hissarlik (believed to be Troy). Homer’s Iliad refers to this temple as being the home of the priest Chryse and his daughter Chryseis. I thought this temple would make a good refuge for Cassandra, allowing her to live on as the priestess of Sminthean Apollo. After all the misery and hardship that my heroines had suffered, I felt the need for a happy ending!
THERESA TOMLINSON, NOVEMBER 2003
www.theresatomlinson.com
About the Author
Shortlisted twice for the Carnegie Medal, Theresa Tomlinson has an outstanding reputation for her historical novels. Visits to Turkey have sparked her imagination and allowed her to research ancient Troy—the world of THE MOON RIDERS and VOYAGE OF THE SNAKE LADY.
Theresa Tomlinson has three grown children and lives in Whitby, England, with her husband, an architect, and her cat, Mewsli.
Visit www.AuthorTracker.com for exclusive information on your favorite HarperCollins authors.
Also by Theresa Tomlinson
The Moon Riders
Credits
Jacket art © www.hen.uk.com (jacket photograph);
Alamy (seascape image)
Jacket design by Joel Tippie
Copyright
Voyage of the Snake Lady
Copyright © 2004 by Theresa Tomlinson
Map copyright © 2004 by Alan Tomlinson
All rights reserved under International and Pan-American Copyright Conventions. By payment of the required fees, you have been granted the nonexclusive, nontransferable right to access and read the text of this e-book on-screen. No part of this text may be reproduced, transmitted, downloaded, decompiled, reverse-engineered, or stored in or introduced into any information storage and retrieval system, in any form or by any means, whether electronic or mechanical, now known or hereinafter invented, without the express written permission of HarperCollins e-books.
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Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data
Tomlinson, Theresa.
Voyage of the snake lady / Theresa Tomlinson. — 1st American ed.
p. cm.
Summary: After living peacefully for some time following the Trojan War, the Moon Riders, a fierce tribe of women warriors, are driven from their home by Neoptolemus, the avenging son of Achilles, and must fight for their lives to survive storms, shipwreck, and strife.
ISBN 978-0-06-084739-5 (trade bdg.)
ISBN 978-0-06-084740-1 (lib. bdg.)
[1. Amazons—Juvenile fiction. 2. Amazons—Fiction. 3. Wild horses—Fiction. 4. Horses—Fiction. 5. Mythology, Greek—Fiction.] I. Title.
PZ7.T5977Voy 2008
[Fic]—dc22
2006100471
CIP
AC
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EPub Edition © JANUARY 2012 ISBN: 9780062193803
1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10
FIRST AMERICAN EDITION
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