by Clare Smith
When that was done, he left the cell listening for any sound from the room next door, but everything was silent and his earlier feeling of danger had disappeared. Outside more birds had joined in the predawn chorus and he knew his time was running out. The quickest way into the temple was through the front door, but as he ran towards it he thought he saw movement and the skin on his arms began to tingle again
Cursing under his breath he swerved to one side where he knew a thick vine, which in the daytime was covered in heart shaped flowers, climbed up to the roof. He was up it in a moment and over the tiles to where a square structure stood in the middle of the temple roof. It was a ventilation point which allowed the cloying fumes from the incense to escape when it was burnt in the dish suspended from the apex of the structure.
Squeezing into the square box was difficult, but once inside, it was just a matter of sliding down the chains head first, flipping off before he landed in the dish and then, there he was, in front of the skull of the golden dragon. The skull was quite small, but its jaws were wide open and with its long, razor sharp teeth, it looked a fearsome creature. He wasn’t afraid of it though, in fact there was something about it which fascinated him and filled him with energy, so it took only seconds to lay the eight rings in its jaws, and then he was back up the chains again and onto the roof.
It was still dark, but now he could make out the shape of the trees in the temple grounds and the three boats tied up at the edge of the lake. He frowned at that. The only time boats were tied up there was when the temple had visitors, and apart from the two lovers, the place should have been empty. He wondered if one of the judges had been sent to observe him and if so, which one it would be. There might be another reason someone was there of course, and he quickly searched for shadows amongst the trees but couldn’t see any movement.
That didn’t mean that there was no one there, but he didn’t think Cheum would dare send someone to intercept him whilst he was being tested; it was against all the rules of the Brotherhood. However, he wasn’t going to take the chance of being caught or even delayed. He quickly changed direction and followed the roof along as far as he could go away from the entrance to the temple where the boats were tethered, and somersaulted to the ground.
The lake edge was closer here but the swim would be longer as would the run to the compound in the Bird Song district. It couldn’t be helped though, so he eased himself into the reeds, doing his best not to disturb the sleeping ducks and swam as if his life depended on it, which it did.
*
The sky was light by the time he’d climbed over the wall and into the compound. He’d picked the same spot as he’d done when he’d been a boy, hoping that it would bring him as much luck now as it had then. It also had the advantage of being the only place which hadn’t yet been raised in height and strengthened, although work had already begun. Fortunately the area was deserted and there was no one there to delay him when any wasted seconds would be fatal.
He raced across the open area and then through the practice yard which was empty, until he reached the small gap in the wall that led to the sleeping quarters. The cell he had been allocated was at the far end and the entrance was unguarded, which was a good sign. If there had been a guard outside, it would have meant that he was too late and they were waiting for him to return.
When he reached the cell he almost threw himself across the floor, narrowly missing the silver knife that was waiting for him. That was for him to use if he thought he’d failed the test and wanted an easier way out of this life than at the hands of the brothers. As things hadn’t gone quite as well as they should have done, and someone was bound to notice the state he was in, he was tempted to use it. However, the formal robes of the Brotherhood with the bag of coins on top which had been left there was too much of a temptation.
He dropped to the floor and tried to tidy himself up but it was a hopeless task; he was cut and scraped, soaked through to the skin and had duck weed stuck to his boots. Still he tried his best and had just removed the duck weed when the door opened and his master entered. Immediately he bowed his head to the floor and waited for the man who held his life in his hand to walk around him and finally stop by his head.
“Your report, if you please my brothers.” He said in a low voice.
“He acted before he thought, went to the wrong place and wasted his time,” said the Master of the Still Mind.
Twistirian winced and wondered how he knew.
“But he wasn’t seen,” said Kingquin.
That surprised him, he thought the senior brother would take his false start as a breach of the test’s rules but then he went on, “However, he did leave signs that he’d been in the palace grounds, and then ran the length of the city in full view.”
“Then he went on to swim the lake faster than any man has done before.”
That was the Master of the Swift Foot who had always supported him. He was grateful he was there now.
“He went to open the wrong door and gave his presence away,” said Cheum.
So he’d been right about there being someone behind the cell door who he didn’t want to disturb.
“But it was a clean kill,” countered the Master of the Blade in the Dark.
“The man’s death could be heard across the temple grounds and he left this behind.”
From his kneeling position on the floor he could see the garrotte hanging from Cheum’s hand and his heart dropped. He’d been in such a hurry that he’d forgotten all about the weapon, but that one error was surely enough to seal his fate.
“He placed all eight rings in the jaws of the Golden Dragon,” countered the senior brother, “and he evaded those who had been sent to the temple to intercept him.”
There was a sharp intake of breath from the masters, and he could hear someone shifting uncomfortably, which told him that the master’s hadn’t known about the guards outside the temple. That unprecedented action by Cheum might be just enough to save him.
“He’d already failed the test,” explained Cheum. “The guards were there to ensure that the Brotherhood was not compromised by his presence.”
There was silence in the room whilst the Masters considered Cheum’s explanation, and he wasn’t sure if that was a good sign or not. The silence lasted so long that he almost jumped when his Master spoke.
“Brothers, how do you judge my son?”
Now he would give anything to lift his eyes from the floor and see who raised their hand in approval and who stayed unmoving.
“Twistirian, my brother, you may stand and take your position amongst us.”
He could have cheered but didn’t.
~ ~ ~ ~ ~
CHAPTER FIVE
Amalaya the Athenian
Athens
She woke with a start pulling herself out of her dream so fast that for a moment she couldn’t work out where she was or what she was doing there. Then it came back to her in a rush, but instead of making her feel better, her heart started pounding and cold sweat ran down her back. She was certain that it had been just a dream like any other she’d ever had, except this one had been so real and she hadn’t been a part of it. In the dream she’d stood in a room and listened whilst two men plotted to kill a third.
If that wasn’t enough, she actually knew the man they were going to kill. She didn’t know him personally of course, but she had seen him on the streets of Athens surrounded by his followers, and knew that Dionostes was a great orator who spoke out about trading with the Persians, whoever they were. That was another reason she didn’t think it had been an ordinary dream. Why would a sixteen year old girl dream about a man who was old enough to be her father and who meant absolutely nothing to her?
Now if he’d been young and handsome like the athletes who trained for the games it would have been a different matter. She put that thought out of her mind. It wasn’t the sort of thing that an acolyte was meant to think about; she was meant to be pure and chaste and not long for the things she
could never have. It was something she couldn’t help though, however hard she tried.
Most of the girls she had known when she was young were married by now, and she would have been too if it wasn’t for the strange dream she’d had when she was ten years old. That dream had been like this one with men talking about someone who had died in a riding accident and her listening to their conversation. She’d told her father about the dream but he’d just laughed and ignored her, until two days later the king’s son was thrown from his horse and killed just as she had foreseen.
After that her life had changed. Instead of growing up on her father’s small estate with her three brothers, she’d been taken to the temple in Athens and handed over to the priestess so her gift could be nurtured. That had been the last time she’d seen her father, mother and three brothers, or lived anything like a normal life. Of course she knew it was a great honour to live in the temple and to serve the goddess, but there wasn’t a day that went by when she didn’t regret having told her father about her dream.
Since then she hadn’t had one single premonition and had started to hope that she would reach the day of choosing and the High Priestess would pronounce that she was ungifted. With any luck she would be sent off to the temple of Aphrodite to serve the goddess of love. Now that she’d had another dream similar to the first she knew that would never happen and she was destined for something much different. The thought of what that would be made her shudder.
She could just turn over, go back to sleep and pretend that the dream had never happened and no one would ever know. However, there was a man’s life at stake and she didn’t think she could live with the guilt if she could save Dionostes life and didn’t. Having come to that conclusion, she slipped out of her low bed, pulled on her tunic and picked up her sandals, which she would put on once she had crept out of the dormitory.
As an afterthought she took her cloak from its peg and put it around her shoulders. The night air would be cool as she made her way to the temple. Quietly she left the long room with the sleeping acolytes and let herself out of the side door where she put on her sandals. She was right about the temperature. The wind was blowing in from the sea and carried with it a freshness that was untainted by the smell of the city, which spread out like a dark shadow at the foot of the acropolis.
The breeze made the torchlight around the small temple flicker and sent long shadows dancing across the pathway. It wasn’t far to walk and she was certain that she would be safe, as no one would dare to come to the temple with wrong doing on their minds, but the city was full of beggars and the temple full of gold. As quickly as she could she climbed the stone steps and passed through the towering pillars into the inner temple. Here the torchlight was steady and the breeze made barely a whisper.
She’d never been into the temple at night or on her own and she thought she ought to have been scared, but she couldn’t be scared in here because this was where the goddess lived. It was the only place in the temple complex where she felt safe and at peace. At the far end she could just make out the statue of the goddess, and its presence gave her courage.
When she reached the foot of the statue she stopped, knelt down and kissed the bottom of the goddesses robe as she’d seen the High Priestess do. She’d expected something to happen but still managed to jump when a voice spoke to her.
“Amalaya, what are you doing here?”
Amalaya scrambled to her feet and bowed to Priestess Sissinia. That was just her luck. It couldn’t have been the High Priestess or one of the others, but it had to be Sissinia, who was in charge of the acolytes. She was a woman with a short temper and a sharp tongue and they had never liked each other.
“I had a dream.”
The Priestess raised her eyebrows and looked sceptical. She’d served the goddess all her life and had supervised more acolytes than she could remember, and not one of them had been gifted as their parents had claimed. This one was particularly unsuitable with her pail hair, blue eyes and a height which was better suited to a man than a woman.
“If you’ve had a bad dream you should have turned over and gone back to sleep.”
“It wasn’t that type of dream; it was like before, a foretelling.”
The Priestess gave an irritable sigh. “I’m sure you are mistaken. Now go back to your dormitory at once and don’t wake the others.”
For a moment Amalaya hesitated. She had the excuse she needed now. If she walked away and returned to her bed, it wouldn’t be her fault if Dionostes died, as she’d tried to tell Sissinia what she’d seen. If the Priestess chose to do nothing about it, then there would be no reason why she should feel guilty if the man was murdered, and when the choosing came she would escape her fate. It was what she should do but couldn’t, not here in the presence of the goddess.
“No. I can’t do that, I’ve had a foretelling.”
“That is most unlikely but tell me about your dream and I will decide what should be done.”
That wasn’t what she wanted either; Sissinia was the last person she would trust and, for all she knew, the priestess could have been one of those Persians everyone had been talking about. “No, I have to tell the High Priestess, she will want to know.”
“I doubt that but in any case she is asleep.”
This was getting very difficult. “I need to talk to her now, so please take me to her.”
“Oh, very well but she’s going to be very angry. In fact I wouldn’t be at all surprised if she didn’t throw you out onto the streets, and your father won’t want to take you back, that is for certain.”
Amalaya didn’t bother saying anything but just followed the Priestess out the side of the temple, down the stone steps and across the courtyard until they reached the smaller temple which stood to one side. The Priestess glared up at her and gave her a few moments to change her mind. When it became obvious that she wouldn’t be moved, the priestess left her there with a curt command to stay where she was whilst she went inside.
If she wanted to change her mind now was the time. She was certain that the High Priestess wouldn’t be angry enough to throw her out, but if she did she would be in trouble. Sissinia had been right; her father wouldn’t have her back, not at her age and with a dowry to be found. That would leave her alone and defenceless with just her looks to earn her a living and she knew where that would get her. There was only one thing for it; she would have to convince the High Priestess that her dream really had been a foretelling.
The door opened making her jump and Sissinia marched out. “Go in now and make it brief, I don’t want to be hanging around here all night waiting to deal with you.”
Amalaya stepped through the door closing it quietly behind her. She had been in this room once before on the day her father had brought her here, and as far as she could see, nothing had changed. The High Priestess sat in a comfortable chair by a small fire and smiled at her. As far as Amalaya was concerned she was the most beautiful woman she’d ever seen, and wondered whether serving the goddess had made her that way.
“Come and sit by me, Amalaya.”
There wasn’t another chair, so she assumed the High Priestess meant her to sit on the floor by her feet which she did.
“Now, Amalaya, I understand that you have had a dream which you believe was a foretelling, but you won’t tell the Priestess who found you wandering around the temple what the dream was. Would you care to tell me?”
Amalaya nodded and recounted her dream in as much detail as she could remember. She told the words the men had spoken and described what they and their surroundings had looked like, whilst the High Priestess listened and didn’t say a word. When she’d finished, she sat on the floor and waited for the High Priestess to respond.
“How old are you, Amalaya?”
That wasn’t what she expected the High Priestess to say. “Sixteen.”
“And how old were you when you had your last foretelling?”
“I’ve only had the one and that was when I was ten.”
“I see. Thank you, Amalaya for bringing this to me, you may return to your bed now.”
She wasn’t expecting that either. “What will you do now?”
The High Priestess smiled. “I will think about what you have told me and decide what should be done.”
“Oh.” She’d hoped for more than that, but was obviously not going to get it so she stood, bowed briefly and left.
By the time she reached the dormitory she was yawning and was having trouble keeping her eyes open. She quietly crossed the room, removed her cloak and sandals and was in bed and asleep within seconds.
*
Amalaya squeezed out the water from the rag she’d been using to clean the surface of the table and pushed a stray wisp of hair from her face with the back of her damp hand. It seemed to her that all she’d been doing since the night of the dream was washing and scrubbing, and waiting on anyone who was more senior than she was and could order her around. As a consequence she staggered into bed every night too tired to dream, let alone come up with a story no one else believed.
On the day after the dream, she thought that the High Priestess would send for her and tell her what she’d decided to do about the foretelling, but the summons had never come. Instead Priestess Sissinia had given her a long list of things to do, none of which required her to go anywhere near the High Priestess or the temple. She wasn’t sure if she was being punished or if she was just being kept busy so she wouldn’t have time to think about the foretelling, but whatever it was she hated it.
She was surprised that the thing she missed most was not going into the great temple. Since the night she’d kissed the goddesses robe, she’d felt different, calmer and more thoughtful, and hadn’t given a single thought to what it would be like to be ordinary and have a husband and children. It was almost as if Athena had touched her instead of the other way around. That was foolish of course; the goddess had better things to do than to take notice of a sixteen year old girl.