Alcippe hesitated and then she moved towards Hero, taking her hand and emerging from the water.
Hero unfastened her own cloak and wrapped it around Alcippe’s naked body. “My brothers are waiting for us.”
The hand that fell on Hero’s shoulder from behind her was heavy and the grip painfully strong. She saw Alcippe’s eyes widen in horror. In panic, Hero struggled.
Another hand clamped her by the waist and lifted her struggling from the ground. Hero screamed.
The priestess put one arm protectively around Alcippe and slapped Hero into silence with the hand of the other. “Seducing an initiate of Artemis’ holy temple to consort with men is an evil sacrilege,” she said coldly.
“No, that is not what she was doing!” Alcippe protested. ‘Please don’t hurt her…”
“I heard her myself, child,” the priestess crooned soothingly as she stroked Alcippe’s hair. “She speaks of brothers, she attempts to lure you from the temple’s protection so that they may offend the goddess with their lust…”
“No!” Hero cried, shocked. She began to struggle again. She twisted to see who held her but the grip was too firm.
Alcippe hesitated, uncertain.
The priestess spoke to Alcippe again. “You trust too easily, child. The goddess will forgive you only once.”
“Your father sent me Alcippe,” Hero said desperately.
The priestess clapped her hands. “Put her with Acastus.”
Muse, sing of Artemis, virgin sister of far-shooting Apollo, who herself delights in arrows. Swiftly she drives her golden chariot through Smyrna to Claros which is laden with vines and where her brother, god of the silver bow, awaits. Hail to you, Artemis.
Homeric Hymn to Artemis
BOOK XXV
HERO CRINGED IN TERROR. SHE was in darkness and in chains. Nearby somewhere, something growled, and she thought her heart would stop with fear.
There had always been rumours that the temple of Artemis sacrificed girls to their goddess. Was this what was happening? She wasn’t sure.
She wondered about Acastus, the other prisoner. Could he help her? But what manner of man would growl like a beast? Perhaps he was mad, like the men of the Erinyes’ temple. Or had he just been in the darkness so long that he had forgotten how to speak like a man?
Hero fought despair, as she always did, with prayer. She straightened her back and raised her hands and begged Artemis to help her, and wise Athene not to forget her. She called on Demeter who had searched the earth for her own daughter and finally, most desperately, she turned to Pan whose power was limited, but to whom her brothers were beloved. By now Cadmus and Lycon would have realised something was amiss, and they would come for her. But the sanctuary was forbidden to men and any trespass would be met with the fury of not only the temple, but Artemis herself. Hero wished fervently that Machaon was with them… all the sons of Agelaus could be reckless but Machaon had always kept them from being completely stupid.
The growling escalated. She could hear shuffling now and the clank of heavy metal. So Acastus was chained too. That gave her courage.
Hero felt around her. The priestesses had placed a hood over her head as they brought her here, and so she had no idea at all where exactly her prison was. The floor was dirt and the chain was short. It was pegged to the floor. She tested it, pulling in the darkness, wondering where Acastus was chained and why he would not stop growling.
“Hello…” she called softly, nervously. “I am Hero. My father was Agelaus, a Herdsman of Ida. Are you Acastus? They told me that I would be imprisoned with Acastus.”
The growling stopped. Acastus’ breathing seemed loud and laboured.
“Are you hurt?” Hero whispered.
For a time there was nothing but the strained breath and the rapid beat of Hero’s heart. The roar when it came seemed to suck the air from the pit and Hero recoiled, screaming, until the chain stopped her moving further.
CADMUS AND LYCON MOVED silently towards the temple. It was now dark and Hero had not returned to them. Cadmus had cursed himself bitterly for letting her go alone in the first place, and they had breached the sanctuary, unseen, determined to retrieve their sister.
The main temple was a colossal structure of bleached marble set on columns. It glowed with the warmth of firelight. The parapet was lit with scores of torches and teemed with the white-robed priestesses who guarded the inner sanctum. Flanking each archway were younger women armed with bows.
On the floor, before the intricately carved entrance was a large circular mosaic with an altar at its centre. It was surrounded by freestanding columns, each of which held torches to light the proceedings. Devotees of Artemis gathered at the circle’s edge for what appeared to be some form of ceremony under the moon.
“Gods, Hero… where are you?” Cadmus scanned the building in search of a way in.
It seemed hopeless. The temple of Artemis was jealously guarded. The sons of Agelaus did not wear beards but they were tall and broad. Not even they could go unnoticed amongst the exclusively female worshippers.
It was then that Cadmus noticed a single acolyte. She was tall, with a dark-featured beauty, but that was not so unusual. Many of the priestesses were beautiful and most were dark. What drew his eye was the fact that she was wearing Hero’s cloak as she looked out from the parapet, searching for someone in the crowd. Cadmus pointed her out to his brother.
Lycon tried not to panic. There were many reasons why Hero may have given up her cloak. There was no reason to think that she had been killed or injured for it.
“We need to talk to that girl, Ly.”
Lycon nodded. “Let her see you.”
“What?”
“We can’t get near her without the wrath of Artemis descending… we are best trying to bring her to us.”
Cadmus looked at his brother sceptically. “Gods Ly, I know I’m handsome but she isn’t going to come running just because—”
Lycon rolled his eyes impatiently. “She’s wearing Hero’s cloak, she’s looking for someone—perhaps it’s us.”
“That’s insane.”
Lycon shrugged. “Let her see you.”
Cadmus sighed. He had no better plan. “This had better work,” he muttered, searching for his moment. He had to let himself be seen but in such a way and in such a time that only the girl in Hero’s cloak would see him. He hoped her eyes were sharp.
He waited until a richly robed high priestess led the worshippers in a rite of homage to the moon. All eyes were trained on the altar but the girl still looked out intermittently. Cadmus stepped into the open, quickly, silently, and he remained there only fleetingly. But it was long enough. The girl in Hero’s cloak saw him.
The Herdsmen tensed, preparing to act should she raise the alarm… but she did not. They watched as she slipped into the temple.
“What is she doing?” Lycon chewed his lip nervously.
They could do little else but wait for the girl to emerge again.
The chanting grew louder as the women called to the heavens in worship. Cadmus tapped his brother, moving his head pointedly towards a second row of cypress trees further back from the temple. Lycon nodded. He had heard it too—a disturbance so slight that most men would not have noticed it. But the Herdsmen of Ida were shepherds and the signs of predators who followed the flocks were often slight.
They moved back towards the site of the disturbance, staying with the shadows until they were concealed in the second band of trees. The girl seemed to come out of the ground itself. She stood staring at them for a breath, her eyes large, her hands unsteady. And then she signalled that they should follow her and disappeared into the ground again.
Cadmus moved quickly and saw then the concealed opening in the forest floor. It was narrow and steep and descended sharply into the dark earth. He glanced at Lycon and followed the girl.
The passage had been hand-hewn and led well beneath the surface. The tunnel became wider as it flattened and it was here that
the dark-eyed girl first spoke with them.
“I am Alcippe. Did my father send you?”
“Yes.”
“Are you Hero’s brothers?”
“Yes. Is she hurt? Why do you have her cloak?”
The girl flinched and backed away.
Lycon spoke gently. “We do not mean to frighten you, Alcippe. We fear for our sister.”
Alcippe nodded slowly, but she kept her distance.
“There are tunnels beneath the temple, a labyrinth,” she said. “Places where the priestesses conduct private rites to appease the goddess.” She stopped, swallowing and calming her voice. “They put your sister with Acastus… I think they intend to sacrifice her to the goddess.”
“Have they hurt her?” Cadmus demanded.
“I do not know.”
“Who is Acastus? What manner of man is he?”
“He is not a man… he is a bear.”
Cadmus cursed.
Lycon grabbed his brother to stop him running blindly into the labyrinth in search of Hero. “Can you find her?” he asked Alcippe.
She nodded. “I think so, but we must hurry. The rites have already started. Soon they will come for her.”
And so they followed Alcippe who would not let them too near her, but who guided them through the subterranean maze. Years of traversing the tunnels which led beneath the walls of Troy meant the Herdsmen were neither quailed nor disoriented in the close, twisting passages lit only by an occasional torch. Most of the women dedicated to Artemis were participating in the moon rite, and the labyrinth seemed deserted.
The tunnels plunged down beneath the temple. Lycon used his dagger to make a mark in the wall at every choice of ways, though Cadmus was impatient to keep moving.
When finally they came to a place where the tunnel opened into a large cavern, Alcippe cautioned them to stay hidden. The walls of the cavern were carved with images of Artemis. Three white-robed acolytes with bows at the ready stood around a low circular wall. Alcippe spoke to them.
“Iphigenia wishes you to join the rite,” she said, keeping her eyes down. “You must be purified before you take the girl.”
This seemed to cause the priestesses no alarm. They embraced Alcippe and left their posts through another tunnel from the cavern.
Once they’d gone, Alcippe motioned the Herdsmen out of hiding. “Quick—we have only moments before they realise that Iphigenia did not call and then all the women of the temple will descend.”
Cadmus looked over the wall. It was a pit. He grabbed a torch and threw it down so that he could see what was in it.
A short scream and the jangle of chain.
“Hero? Is that you?”
“Why are you throwing fire at me?”
“Sorry, I didn’t think… Are you hurt?”
“No…”
They could see Hero now, holding the torch in the centre of the pit. The flickering light cast only immediately around her, but it was enough to tell the pit was about thrice as deep as they were tall.
Lycon looked frantically for a rope. His eyes fell on the ceremonial robes which clad the marble figure of Artemis. Alcippe acted before him, mumbling a prayer of apology as she took the robes from the statue. Lycon tore them into a rope of sorts.
“Hero, can you get to the side? We’ll throw you a rope.”
Hero’s voice was strained, terrified and weary. “I can’t… chained…” She started to cry. “There’s something here with me… I can’t see… growling…”
“I’m coming down to get you,” Cadmus said, climbing immediately onto the wall.
“Acastus is chained to the pit wall,” Alcippe said urgently. “He cannot reach the centre of the pit but he may be able to reach you at the edge… be wary.”
Lycon handed his brother another torch. “Here, use this.”
Cadmus could hear the growling now. He tried to guess to which part of the pit Acastus was chained, but the sound bounced on the curved walls, hiding the position of its source. So he jumped blindly, trying to land as far into the centre of the pit as possible. He fell hard on the earthen floor and the torch fell out of his grasp.
The bear roared, rising onto its hind legs as it lunged for the man who had landed within its reach. Cadmus rolled, fumbling for the fallen flame. Hero screamed.
Cadmus pushed the burning torch towards the bear’s face. The beast recoiled, frightened by both the fire and the light to which it was unaccustomed in the black bowels of the temple tunnels.
“Hero, I’m here,” Cadmus called back to his sister. “Don’t move… I’ll come for you.”
Cadmus thrust the torch ahead of him, keeping the snarling bear at bay as he searched the pit wall for the place where the creature’s chain was attached. He found it.
“Take the rope to the other side of the pit, Ly,” he said and waved the torch to ensure his brother knew where he was. “Acastus will not reach us there.”
Only then did he go to Hero. He embraced her and let her sob her relief into his shoulder for a moment before he unsheathed his sword to break the chains which bound her.
He sent her up the rope first. Hero was light and lithe and so she climbed easily. Acastus strained on his chain and bellowed his frustration. Cadmus followed his sister quickly, realising that by now Alcippe’s deception would have been discovered.
They paused but for a breath before running into the tunnels as they had come. Lycon took the lead using the marks he’d made earlier to guide them through the winding passages.
“What if they’re waiting for us where the tunnel comes out?” he said looking at the way before them.
Alcippe shook her head. “There are scores of tunnels which emerge all over the sanctuary. They will not know which one we’ve used.”
The labyrinth was no longer silent. It echoed with screams and shouts of rage, and then another sound. Alcippe put her ear to the wall to listen. She pulled away abruptly. “They have released Acastus… he will follow our trail. We must go.”
And so they ran, with neither hesitation nor backward glance until the narrow stairs by which they had entered were before them. Lycon went first, his sword gripped ready in his hand.
They emerged into a sanctuary in uproar. As well as Acastus, several hounds had been released to hunt them. Alcippe guided them again, taking them through a swift stream and the sacred grove of the goddess to escape the sanctuary itself.
They moved furtively through the heart of Athens and away from the Cercropia towards the shrouded mountain, and it was only when they were within the wild olive groves at its base that they rested their desperate flight. The place seemed to unnerve Alcippe anew and she retreated into the hurt and fear in which Hero had first discovered her.
“They will not suspect that I would ever return here, at least,” she whispered.
“You are safe here now,” Hero said, taking the girl’s trembling hand. “Your father waits for you… we will take you to him.”
Alcippe wiped new tears from her eyes and shook her head. “I still don’t understand why my father did not come for me himself.”
“He really believes he is imprisoned,” Hero replied. Could Alcippe not know that her father was mad? “Perhaps he fears that—”
“It cannot be!” Alcippe said fiercely. “My father fears nothing!” She looked at them all strangely. “Do you not know? My father is Ares… he is the god of war.”
Noble Ares, unconquered and unbent, rejoicing in darts and blades and bloody battle; violent and wild; mortal-destroying king, defiled with gore, delighting in the murderous wail of war. In mortal blood and deadly sword, lies the glory of the savage lord. In furious discord and avenging fight, shall he reign with bitter might.
Orphic Hymn to Ares
BOOK XXVI
MACHAON WAITED UNTIL HIS SIBLINGS had gone before he addressed the soldier again.
“What will you do when your daughter is returned?” he asked bluntly.
“I will comfort her.” The man rubbed his
face and sighed. His head snapped around suddenly and he spoke now to some apparition in his beleaguered mind. “Yes, I know—the ancient fool wants me judged… let it be so. I would do it again.”
Machaon regarded him, bewildered. “Who wants you judged?”
“The Earthshaker.” The soldier raised his face to shout. “Father of monsters, but never so great a monster as Halirrhothios… well, you should bury your vile progeny… I do not regret it… Do not speak for me, mother… it was no accident… I tore out his heart!”
Oenone paled and whispered, “Earthshaker…”
Machaon grabbed the raging warrior, afraid the man was about to lose any link with reality altogether. And yet the Herdsman was curious as to the nature of the delusion. “Earthshaker? You think this Halirrhothios was a son of Poseidon?”
“Of course… do you think they’d care if I’d killed some hapless mortal?”
“They?”
“The Pantheon… how quick they are to judgment when it is me…” He waved his arm in disgust. “If it were Athene, they would call it just.”
Machaon paused. “What is your name?” he asked.
The soldier’s eyes were hard.
“I am Ares. I am war.”
Oenone gasped and dropped to her knees. “Forgive us, my Lord, we did not recognise you…”
Machaon simply stared. “You think you’re Ares?” The man was madder than he thought.
“I do not think. I am.”
“Murderous Ares, the man-slayer?” Machaon said sceptically.
“Machaon!” Oenone cried in alarm.
“I have been so called,” the soldier replied, “but not often in my presence.”
Machaon shrugged. “All right,” he said carefully. He was not entirely sure that he should pander to the fantasy.
“You doubt me,” the man accused coldly.
“I thought you’d be bigger,” Machaon replied.
Trying War Page 19