by Clare Smith
She was afraid too. Her supply of dried goat’s meat wasn’t going to last forever, and when it was gone all she would have was goat’s milk and cheese, and there was no way that was going to keep her healthy for long. There would of course be olives once they were ripe, but the thought of climbing the hillside by herself to pick them scared her almost as much as the thought of starving to death.
It seemed to her that the longer she stayed here the more frightened she became, and supposed that was because she was rapidly learning the dangers of being unable to see where she was going. It hadn’t been so bad when Pellecus had been here to watch over her. He’d only taken her by the hand twice to guide her around their small camp so she would know what was there, but he’d always been on hand to call her back if she was straying into danger.
Now there was no one to keep her safe and she was beginning to realise just how vulnerable she was. Only yesterday she had miscalculated where she was and had fallen over the small fence which kept the goats out of her precious herb garden. The result had been a bruised shoulder, badly scraped ribs and a sprained wrist, but it could have been worse. She could have broken her leg and then what would she do.
As it was it had taken her most of the day to repair the damage, and pick the herbs she had squashed as she had disentangled herself from the fence. The herbs were valuable, so she’d put them out to dry, but the goats had eaten them before she could drive them off. That and her painful wrist had slowed her down, so that the other things she had to do had taken much longer than normal. Now evening had come and she was too tired to eat. In fact all she wanted to do was close her eyes and sleep, but even that frightened her.
Last night, when she’d still been recovering from the shock of her fall, she’d dreamed of the young man she’d seen previously. This time he’d been inside a large cave, not dissimilar to the one she’d found in the hidden ravine, except this one had been full of parchments and scrolls. They were held in clay pipes stacked one on top of each other and spread out over a large table.
The young man had been studying them with a look of concentration on his face and for a while she had just watched him. He was older than she was and taller but not by much, and looked as if his life hadn’t been an easy one. His eyes were deep brown and troubled, and he carried himself as if, at any minute, he expected someone to use a whip on his back. Perhaps he was a runaway slave although she doubted it, as no slave she knew could read.
As well as having the build of someone who had gone hungry for most of his life, the man only had four fingers on each hand, whilst disfiguring scars ran down to his wrist showing where the missing fingers had once been. There was something else too, as if a part of him didn’t belong and he was trying to live a life which wasn’t really his. She didn’t know how she knew all these things as there was nothing untoward to be seen, but she guessed it was something to do with her gift of foretelling.
Despite his shortcomings, she couldn’t help but be attracted to him, and that had nothing to do with her loneliness, but as if they were connected in some way. She’d wanted to talk to him so she could discover what it was they shared, but was afraid that it would end up like last time, when she thought she’d killed him. Then she’d been new to the strange dreams the gemstone gave her and had no control over it, but now she could at least choose the subject of her dreams.
With just a whisper she had called to him and the young man had looked up, not so much startled but puzzled, as if someone had tapped him on the shoulder. He’d looked around, shaken his head and returned to studying the scroll in front of him. That wasn’t what she’d wanted him to do at all. She’d wanted him to come to her and join with her so they could be one.
Even in her dream she’d known that wasn’t right, that it was wrong to want to possess someone, but she couldn’t help herself. She’d called him to her ignoring the man’s gasp of pain as he clutched at his chest and had slumped forwards across the table. In her dream she had waited for him to come and take her in his arms and to love her in the way that she had wanted Pellecus to do, but things hadn’t turned out that way.
Instead something had leaped free from him with fearsome tallons extended, and she’d retreated before the deadly grip could wrap around her. She’d woken then with sweat running down her body and a sense of wrongness so strong that she could almost taste it. Sleep had eluded her for the rest of the night but the dream still remained, nagging at the back of her mind.
Now if she slept she knew she would dream of him again and this time she wouldn’t be strong enough to resist the spirit which seemed intent on capturing her. She really didn’t want to sleep, but despite her fears and all her efforts to stay awake, her eyes started to close. If it hadn’t been for the fact that she was sitting on a log by the cold fire pit, so that her head kept nodding forward and waking her, she would have fallen fast asleep.
Eventually she realised that she couldn’t battle against sleep’s irresistible pull forever and reluctantly made her way to the pallet in the cave. It occurred to her then that the dreams of the young man had only started when she had found the gemstone so perhaps, if it was nowhere near her, the dreams would stay away. She thought it was unlikely, but was desperate enough to try anything, so before she lay down, she put the gemstone in her belt pouch and placed that on the stone ledge where she couldn’t reach it.
It surprised her, but just that small precaution made her feel better, and the longing that had been with her all day disappeared. Slowly she undressed, placing her robe next to her so she could find it in the morning, and said a small prayer to Athena to watch over her as she slept. She hadn’t prayed to the goddess for a long time, but tonight it felt the right thing to do. As she lay down on her straw filled pallet and closed her eyes, she felt more relaxed than she had for several days and willingly let sleep take her.
She wasn’t asleep though, but standing to one side watching as they entered the clearing and came to a halt. At the front was a man in the prime of his life, who sat on a fine horse and looked down with a small, leering smile. The man had dark, oiled hair and a neat beard, which had been curled around in the way that some Persians wore it. There was no doubt that he was wealthy, as the horse he rode gleamed like satin and looked as if it could run forever, whilst his clothes were made of finely woven linen and were embroidered with gold thread.
Equally apparent was that the man was used to command, as spread out behind him was a dozen warriors. They were dressed in short tunics with embossed leather breastplates, metal greaves and short swords. By the dust on their legs she guessed they had travelled a long way, but none of them looked tired, only excited as they appraised the figure with whom their master spoke.
She couldn’t see the person who held their attention, but it was obvious from the look on the man’s face and the way he moved in the saddle, that they had said something which displeased him. Now the smile disappeared and was replaced by a look of lust and cruelty. The man pointed at the person in front of him and said something she couldn’t hear, and then he must have given a command because four of the warriors ran forward at his bidding.
They ran fast, faster than the person they perused, and caught up with them at the mouth of the cave. The captive struggled but was not strong enough to fight them off, and now she could see why. As the guards tore the clothes from them she could see fair skin, breasts with dark nipples and long, slender legs. The woman struggled to be free, but the soldiers were far too strong for her. Two held her arms and forced her to the ground whilst the other two took her legs and forced them apart.
With a racing heart she watched as the man dismounted and began to untie the straps which held his breastplate in place. He threw it carelessly aside and released the laces which fastened his tunic. The man looked down at the beginning of his arousal, scowled and then glanced around at the waiting warriors who were looking on in anticipation. Their smirking clearly angered him, as he snapped an order and the two men who held the woman’s legs r
eleased them whilst the other two dragged her back into the cave.
The man, who was fully aroused now, nodded in satisfaction and strode forwards towards the cave’s mouth. Amalaya knew what was going to happen next and wanted no part of it, so she fought to wake and, for a moment, the image blurred and began to fade. Then, as if the goddess’s gift refused to let her go, the scene exploded into chaos.
There were men running and screaming, and behind them something dark which filled their hearts with terror. As their splattered blood turned the image red, she fought harder to free herself from the nightmare, using the strength of her will to pull away from it, but the goddess hadn’t finished with her yet. Through the haze that was left, she caught a glimpse of a woman of rare beauty, but with yellow, elliptical eyes which blinked just once before she disappeared.
Amalaya woke with a scream, her body soaked with sweat and shaking from head to toe. She had vowed that she would never have another foretelling, but it was clear that was what her nightmare had been. It had to be a foretelling, because she was standing there watching events unfold, but it was the most violent and awful one she’d ever had.
It had also been very different than the foretellings she’d had before. In this one she’d managed to escape seeing the brutal rape of the woman in the cave, but she knew that was impossible. A foretelling had to be seen through to the end and it just wasn’t possible to substitute the ordained ending for something else. She wasn’t sure what that meant, but she didn’t think it was anything good, and wondered if the gemstone had affected the outcome.
Shakily she rose from her sweat-drenched pallet and felt along the stone ledge for her belt pouch. It was still there and the gemstone was still inside, feeling no different than it had done when she’d placed it there. She was certain that it hadn’t influenced the outcome of her foretelling, but clearly something had because the end hadn’t been at all what it should have been. Now she was thinking about it though, she wasn’t even sure if the foretelling had reached its end, because she had been fighting so hard to escape from it.
Amalaya shook her head and decided that was a stupid thought; foretellings always have an end because that is their nature, and if they didn’t, what would be the point of having a foretelling in the first place. Having settled that, she thought about returning to her bed, but knew that would be a pointless exercise as there was no way she would get back to sleep. Instead she pulled on her robe, fastened the belt around her waist and walked out of the cave.
Outside the air was cool on her skin and dried her sweat, whilst insects sang noisily, soothing her nerves. She took her seat by the empty fire pit guessing that it had to be a few hours before dawn, and wondered how many stars shone in the sky above her. Instinctively she looked up, and the image of a tall man with cruel eyes leering down at her flashed through her mind. She gasped in shock and looked away only to see the soldiers holding the naked woman down whilst their fully aroused master knelt between her legs.
It made her cry out and she tried to push the image from her mind, but as she did so another took its place. One after another disordered snatches of her vision flashed before her, so that it felt as if her head would burst. She tried to block them out and thought of other things to distract herself, but every thought she had was punctuated by screams or tainted with blood, until she couldn’t stand it anymore.
Never before had she had a foretelling which had lingered on like this one had, but in the past she had never been alone, so she’d been able to tell someone about the things she had seen. Once she had done that the images had always faded from her mind as if they had never been, and then she’d slept peacefully afterwards. Here though there was no one with whom she could unburden herself, but if she didn’t then she would surely go mad.
In desperation, and as there was no one else, she began telling herself what had happened, speaking out loud as if someone was listening to her. She described the man on the fine horse and his growing annoyance, and the way the guards had leered at the woman. Then the moment his irritation had spilled over into anger, and he’d given the guards their orders.
She saw them running across the open ground by the spring, trampling the herbs into the ground and tearing the clothes from her body. They held her down, bruising her skin and scraping her thighs across the rough ground as they forced her legs apart and prepared her for their master’s pleasure. Now he hesitated, only half aroused, and gave a rough command, so the men hauled her to her feet, dragged her backwards past the empty fire pit and into the cave where she slept. He followed behind, his manhood swollen with lust and reached out for her.
Amalaya screamed then, shot to her feet and staggered backwards, falling over the log on which she’d been sitting. Now she knew for certain it was a foretelling and why she hadn’t been able to see it through to the inevitable end. The foretelling hadn’t been about the man at all, but about her. This was the place where it would happen, and she was the woman in the cave who would be raped and killed by these men.
Shaking even more than she had done when she’d had the foretelling, she scrambled to her feet, her mind full of fear and panic. It was the worst nightmare she could imagine, not only to be blind and helpless whilst these men violated her body, but to know beforehand what was going to happen. There was only one thing for it, she had to leave this place and hide, because if she wasn’t here when the men came, then the foretelling couldn’t come to pass.
Quickly she scooped up a handful of goat’s cheese and wrapped it around with strips of smoked goat’s meat, and tied it together with the strands of long grass Pellecus had picked for her. It was messy, and if she had more time she could have done a better job of it, but in her foretelling the sun had been high in the sky when the men had come, and she needed to be far away by then. She filled the two water skins and hitched one over her shoulder, but had to abandon the other because it was too heavy for her to carry.
She would have liked to have taken more, but that was all she could manage, so with her pole held out in front of her, she set off as quickly as she dared walk. Her chosen route was down the pathway where the cart had once stood, although it wasn’t the direction she wanted to go. That was upwards onto the mountain slopes where it would be difficult to follow her, but she had no way of finding the hidden cave without the goat’s help, and she couldn’t wait for them.
The only hope she had was to follow the path as she had before and pray that the goddess would show her the way.
*
Tesiclese sat on his horse, impatiently tapping his fingers on the saddle’s pommel whilst two of his guards investigated the cave in front of him. Although it had taken him twice as long to make the journey here than he’d planned, he’d followed the Oracle’s directions carefully, and was certain this was the place she had described. There was a herb garden just as she had said there would be, although it looked as if the herbs which had grown there had been trampled or eaten by goats.
By the cave entrance was the fire pit he’d been expecting, and all around there was evidence that someone had been living there very recently. The place was a mess, and looked as if the person who had lived there had left very suddenly, because a full waterskin had been abandoned by the edge of the spring. There were also the remains of a badly woven basket which had been dropped carelessly by the cold fire, which would suggest that whoever had been living here was a woman.
The other sure sign that the person who had lived here was a woman, were the goats which had been milling around waiting to be milked when they had first arrived. They were gone now, apart from an old nanny which he’d speared through the chest when the clanging of its bell had annoyed him. His horse moved restlessly beneath him, made nervous by the smell of the goat’s blood, and started slightly when the two guards he’d sent to investigate the interior of the cave emerged, shaking their heads.
“She was here, my Lord as there are stores of cheese and dried meat in the cave but she’s gone now.” The more senior of the
two held up a threadbare blanket as more evidence.
Tesiclese cursed out loud. If only he hadn’t gone hunting whilst he was on his way here, the seer would probably still be in the cave and would be able to tell him what he wanted to know. Now he would either have to spend valuable time searching for her, or give the whole thing up as a bad job, return home and find another way to dispose of his brother. He was reluctant to do that, as even in Corinth murdering your own brother was frowned upon.
“Can she be tracked?” he asked one of the guards who stood behind him. The man was shorter than the others with sharp, pointed features.
“It is unlikely, my Lord. The ground is hard and does not hold a footprint well.” He didn’t add that they had probably obliterated any tracks by their carelessness on their way to the cave.
Tesiclese cursed again and shook his head. “Destroy everything here. We return to Delphi where I will make sure the Oracle tells me what I need to know and then we go home to Corinth.”
He dragged his horse around by the bit and jabbed it irritably in its ribs with his boot heels making it dance sideways. His men scattered out of its way knowing that when their lord was in this mood he was as likely to use his boots on them as his horse. Quickly the two guards who had investigated the cave smashed the crocks of cheese, and ground that and the dried meat into the ground. They scattered the fire pit and trampled the last surviving herbs, but left the blanket on the ground as it was too threadbare to be of use to anyone.
Tesiclese didn’t bother waiting for them but rode on down the cart track, his thoughts dark as he considered what he would like to do to the Oracle for wasting his time. Violence against the Oracle was not really an option, although there had been times in the distant past when she had been forced to tell what she knew. That meant he would have to provide her with more gifts, but even his ample supply of coin was beginning to run low.