The House Called Hadlows

by Victoria Clayton

  She opened her eyes. It was daylight and the sky was cerulean blue. She was sitting on a bare hillside, rocky and tufted with coarse grass. Behind her and beyond were more hills as desolate as the one on which she sat and there was no sign or sound of life, not even the singing of a bird. A few yards away from her was an archway of stones, like the doorway of an ancient dwelling. But the roof and walls had long since fallen away to dust. It showed however that people had once lived in this eerie and lonely place and this was comforting for all her new-found knowledge had gone as quickly as it came and she felt rather anxious and worried now.

  ‘Still, it is beautifully warm here,’ she said to herself as she got to her feet and brushed a few remaining feathers from her dress. ‘I suppose this was a shepherd’s hut once. It must have been a very long time ago. There’s absolutely nothing left apart from the door.’

  She walked over and pushed the stones gently. They were solid and unyielding. Having thus assured herself that it was safe, she stepped through the archway.

  THE BLUE sky and the hillside turned upside down and began to spin in a dizzying manner. Melissa closed her eyes and held on to the archway for all she was worth. When she opened them again she found herself suspended in a blue void, herself and the archway the only things present in a vast emptiness. It was a horrible feeling and any moment she expected to plunge like a stone into the depths below. But she remained poised, fixed like a star in the sky. She felt the space before her with her foot. There was definitely something solid there, although invisible. Slowly she released her hold on the stones. At once the archway vanished and the floor appeared, shining and misty, like breath on glass. Around her rose pillars of silver which joined overhead in great curves like the roof of a cathedral. But there was a constant movement in the pillars and curves which made Melissa think that they were perhaps trees and that she was standing in an enormous forest. There was a strange quality to the silence, brooding, with a sense of timelessness.

  She walked forward between the trees, or whatever they were, and found herself by the edge of a pool. She knelt beside it and looked in. The water was perfectly still. Not a ripple disturbed the surface. Then she noticed something rather strange. Although she was leaning right over the pool, there was no reflection of herself in the water. She stretched out her hand but no hand came up to meet it. The water was absolutely clear, the depths dark and green.

  Then, as she looked, the surface of the water shivered and broke into small pieces. It reassembled itself and then Melissa drew her breath in sharply and leaned so far over that she almost fell in. She could see a man lying at the bottom of the pool. And more extraordinary still, a fast-moving stream flowed over the stones beside him. A bird fluttered into view and perched on the man’s shoulder which was covered by a mantle of fur. Then a shadow fell over the man and the bird and Melissa saw that another man stood beside them. He wore a small oval cap and from his chin hung a long black beard. He limped badly as he crept closer to the man lying on the ground, one leg being twisted and mis-shapen. He drew a dagger from his belt and Melissa’s hand flew to her mouth with fear.

  But to her surprise he knelt to the ground and with two swift strokes cut something from the feet of the other, thrust something white into a pouch hanging from his belt and limped quickly out of sight. The bird rose into the air and flew in circles round the head of the man lying on the ground. He opened his eyes and sat up. He looked at the bird which flew to his feet. An expression of horror came over his face and he sprang up and drew his sword. Then the surface of the water broke again into a thousand pieces and formed once more a green and unreflecting sheet.

  Melissa began to get up, but there was a twang and a whirring sound and she found that the hem of her dress was pinned to the ground by a silver-shafted arrow. She turned in alarm to see, standing only a few yards behind her, a youth clad in a tunic of animal skins, his forehead bound with a circle of leather. There was a bow in his hand. He didn’t look much older than Sebastian and quite suddenly her fear left her and she found herself saying, rather crossly,

  ‘What on earth do you think you’re doing, firing arrows at me like that? You might have killed me!’

  And she pulled the arrow out of the ground and stood up, frowning severely.

  The youth seemed quite astounded. Then he turned red with annoyance.

  ‘How dare you address me in this manner? I am Ares, god of war. And you are a mortal, trespassing in the sacred ground of Olympus. Who brought you here? Answer me!’

  And he came up to Melissa and roughly took hold of her arm. Now that he was close to her, Melissa could see that he was much older than she had first thought. He looked no more than eighteen, but there was something about his eyes that gave the impression of a much greater age. Still, she was not going to be bullied in this way and she was very angry to have been shot at.

  ‘Let go of my arm at once,’ she said, returning his fierce stare. ‘Or I shall bite you!’

  Ares let go hastily and Melissa darted to the other side of the pool.

  ‘I’ll teach you a lesson, insolent girl,’ said Ares, putting his bow on the ground and clenching his fists.

  ‘Wait, Ares!’ said a calm voice and a woman stepped out from among the silver trees. She was tall and beautiful, dressed all in white and her eyes flashed clear and green in the light from the forest.

  ‘Don’t interfere, Pallas Athene,’ said Ares, crossly. ‘I caught this girl looking into our pool and she has been exceedingly impertinent. She has no business to be here.’

  ‘How do you know?’ said the woman, Pallas Athene. ‘Did you wait to ask her?’

  Then she turned to Melissa and said in a gentle voice, ‘Why have you come here, little girl? And who brought you?’

  Melissa was not pleased to be called a little girl, particularly in front of Ares, whom she disliked intensely, but there was great friendliness in the woman’s eyes, and majesty too.

  ‘I have come to find Hermes, Pallas Athene of the flashing eyes,’ she said. She was surprised at the words, which came out before she had time to think. It wasn’t her normal way of talking to people and she had always been told that it was impolite to make personal comments.

  Pallas Athene smiled and looked pleased.

  ‘This is a most courteous and gentle girl,’ she said to Ares. ‘I’m quite sure that you were ungallant and put her in a temper.’

  ‘Indeed he was,’ said Melissa, still smarting from her fright. ‘He nearly killed me with an arrow.’

  ‘Ares, that was foolish as well as uncivil. Go and do something useful, like finding Hermes. The council begins shortly and Zeus wishes us all to attend.’

  Ares looked as if he were about to lose his temper, but an imperious glance from Pallas Athene made him change his mind. He strode off through the trees, casting one last furious glance at Melissa.

  ‘Take no notice of him,’ said Pallas Athene. ‘He is very unhappy because Zeus has forbidden all Olympians to take part in any more mortal battles. He feels it is time that mortals should decide their own fate. Ares, being the god of War, finds time hanging heavily on his hands. But you need fear nothing from him while you are with me. I am Zeus’s favourite daughter and a warrior-goddess besides. Now tell me how you came here.’

  So Melissa tried to describe her flight with the swans, which was difficult for it was now very confused in her own mind. Pallas Athene was very interested to hear of the door on the hillside.

  ‘I had not thought it still existed. It is a very ancient way to Olympus and has not been used for many thousands of years. It must be a strong power that sent you here.’

  Then Melissa told her the story of the Elixir and the part that she and Sebastian had played in the recovery of its elements.

  ‘Indeed, this interests me greatly. And if I can assist you in this I shall gladly do so. But no doubt Hermes will give you all the help you need for I’m sure his heart will be moved to pity by the plight of this young girl and her lover.’r />
  ‘Would you tell me something about yourself and the other gods?’ asked Melissa. ‘I’m very ignorant about Olympus, I’m afraid.’

  ‘Willingly,’ replied Pallas Athene. ‘But soon our council will begin. Come with me and you shall see the twelve Olympian deities with your own eyes. It is a great privilege for a mortal.’

  They walked together through the trees until they came to a large clearing. Forming a circle in the clearing were statues of animals and birds. Melissa was amazed to see such beauty for each statue was a masterpiece of stone carving and they all reflected the soft silver light from the trees. There was a stone bull which dominated the group, next to it a peacock, each feather in its tail separately carved. On the other side was an owl and next to it a stag, one foot poised as if in flight. There was a pig, a tortoise, a large fish, which Melissa guessed was a dolphin, a serpent, a cockerel, a wolf, a ram and a dove.

  ‘These are the symbols of the Olympian deities,’ said Pallas Athene. ‘My place is there, next to the bull, for all owls are sacred to me. Now watch carefully and see the gods arrive for the council.’

  Melissa’s eye was caught by a strange play of light on the stag. It seemed for a moment to become a living thing and she could have sworn that it turned its head to look at her. She heard the sound of hooves bounding past her and out of the clearing. And there, where the stag had stood, was a young woman. She wore a long robe with a white veil and a crescent moon on her forehead. Beside her was a great dog, a wolfhound.

  ‘That is Artemis, goddess of hunting,’ said Pallas Athene.

  Then Melissa saw the ram suddenly butt the air with its curled horns and the next moment in its place appeared a young man. In one hand he held a lyre, in the other a bow. A quiver of arrows was slung over his broad shoulders.

  ‘Apollo, god of prophecy and protector of the flocks,’ said Pallas Athene. ‘He is the twin brother of Artemis.’

  Melissa had noticed at once the striking resemblance between Apollo and Artemis as they bowed silently to one another.

  ‘Now who comes next? Ah, Aphrodite. Hers is the sign of the dove.’

  Melissa caught a glimpse of a pale shadow fluttering away through the trees and in the clearing now stood a woman of incredible beauty. Her hair was bright gold and round her waist was a girdle which shone so brightly it might have been made of moonbeams.

  ‘Aphrodite is the goddess of beauty and desire,’ said Pallas Athene. ‘Now the cock will crow for Ares loves Aphrodite and is never far behind her.’

  Melissa heard the sound of a cock crowing far away in the forest and Ares appeared. He saw Melissa at once and frowned. But a smile from the lovely Aphrodite claimed his attention immediately.

  ‘Now the wolf will make way for Hephaestus, Aphrodite’s husband.’

  Melissa gave a little start, for the man who took the place of the wolf had a black beard and one leg was twisted. He now held a hammer in place of the dagger, but she had no difficulty in recognizing him as the man she had seen in the pool.

  ‘Hephaestus is the smith-god and a great artist in metals. Unfortunately he has a very jealous nature.’

  This was apparent in the look he gave Ares. Melissa decided to say nothing about what she had seen.

  The serpent let out a long, slow hiss and in its place stood a man with vine leaves in his hair, a dark flushed face and a drinking-cup in his hand.

  ‘Dionysus is the god of wine. As you might imagine, there are many shrines in his name. Here comes Demeter, the corn-goddess and tiller of the earth.’

  A young girl appeared in place of the sow, a garland of wheat around her head and a scarlet field-poppy in her hand.

  ‘And here is Poseidon, god of the sea.’

  The dolphin seemed to sparkle and twist its tail and a strong smell of brine filled the clearing. An old man appeared, his white beard entwined with sea-weed and dripping with water. He held a trident in one hand and a round glass ball in the other.

  ‘Where is Hermes? He should be here now,’ said Pallas Athene. ‘See, here is Hera, goddess of marriage and Zeus’s wife.’

  A tall woman, with a sceptre in her hand and a diadem on her forehead, appeared beside the bull.

  ‘I must go and take my place,’ said Pallas Athene, ‘for Zeus will come very soon.’

  She clapped her hands and the owl gave a soft to-wit-to-woo. The next moment she was standing beside the bull. It was a strange group they made, standing silently in the soft, unearthly light. Each face had its own nature clearly upon it and yet beyond that a common likeness, of eternal life and inestimable age.

  The small stone tortoise looked rather out of place in the circle. A slight wind passed through the clearing and Melissa instinctively drew back into the shadows. There was a crash of thunder and a bolt of white-hot light struck the head of the bull.

  It gave an answering roar and was transmuted instantly into a man of majestic stature, his forehead bound with oak-leaves and a great eagle resting on his shoulder. He held a sceptre in his right hand.

  ‘Hail Zeus! King of gods, father of men, master of Fate!’ cried ten voices in unison.

  Zeus inclined his great head. Then his sombre, heavy-lidded eyes passed slowly round the circle until they came to the tortoise.

  His deep voice rumbled through the clearing.

  ‘Where is Hermes?’

  Ares stepped forward.

  ‘Oh Zeus, king of gods, father of men —’ he began.

  Zeus made an impatient gesture with his hand. Ares continued hastily, with less extravagance.

  ‘I have sent messengers to Mount Cyllene, to Hades and to Pylos but none have seen him there. The nymph, Aria told me —’

  He broke off for a small bird flew into the clearing. It rested briefly on Aphrodite’s shoulder and then fluttered about her head, cooing and chirping.

  ‘The dove has seen Hermes,’ said Aphrodite. ‘She says that he was asleep in an olive grove in Arcadia when one of the gods stole upon him and cut the alipean wings from his sandals.’

  The gods and goddesses looked at each other in dismay and Zeus’s eyebrows were drawn together in a frown.

  ‘Hermes is unable to avenge himself for without his wings he cannot enter Olympus,’ said Aphrodite.

  ‘Yes,’ said Zeus. ‘It was I who gave him the alipean sandals on pain of expulsion from Olympus if he should lose them. But I had not envisaged such treachery. Who is responsible for this?’

  This last was uttered in a voice like thunder and the silver forest shivered in anticipation of his anger.

  No one spoke.

  ‘Aphrodite, command the dove to tell us who is traitor.’

  The dove flew in small circles, twittering and cooing.

  ‘She fears the wrath of the gods and will not say,’ said Aphrodite.

  The dove flew away. Zeus shook his great head in rage and the earth trembled.

  ‘Will the schemer declare himself,’ he growled.

  Then Melissa, who had been standing in the shadows having a great tussle with her conscience, stepped forward.

  ‘I know who did it,’ she said, feeling very nervous indeed.

  Everyone looked at her in astonishment. Melissa felt that what she was about to do was very much akin to telling tales which she had always been told was an unforgivable thing to do. But everything depended on Hermes helping Fandeagle and the others, so she thought that really she couldn’t just stand by and say nothing.

  Zeus looked long and hard at her. ‘Well, mortal. I shall hear what you have to say. But think well before you speak. How come you to know Hermes’ enemy?’

  ‘I looked into the pool over there and saw a man lying on the ground. Then someone came and cut something from his feet. I did not understand then what I saw, but I realize now that it must have been Hermes who was sleeping there. And I saw the other man clearly. I have come to Olympus to ask for help from Hermes so I must say what I know.’

  ‘Speak then, mortal. Tell us who it was who cut the wings from Herm
es’s sandals.’

  ‘It was him,’ Melissa pointed with a trembling finger at Hephaestus.

  Everyone looked at Hephaestus who turned dark red.

  ‘She lies!’ shouted Ares.

  Everyone, not least Hephaestus, stared at Ares in astonishment.

  ‘Hephaestus was in my company until just before the council. We were far away in Thrace. It is not possible for him to have done this thing.’

  They all began to mutter amongst themselves. It was well-known that Ares and Hephaestus were enemies. Why then should one defend the other unless he spoke the truth?

  ‘We must hold a trial,’ said Zeus. ‘The mortal must wait by the pool until I have made a judgement. It is not fitting that a mortal should be present at a trial of the gods.’

  Pallas Athene smiled at Melissa, as the latter turned and walked out of the clearing. Soon the voices became only a faint murmur. She reached the pool and sat down beside it. Why had Ares spoken up for Hephaestus she wondered? Was what she had seen in the pool a lie, or her own imagination?

  She looked at the water. It was smooth and green. For a moment she thought that she could see, in the depths, a pair of yellow eyes glinting up at her. When she looked again they were gone. At last, tired by the heat and the excitement of the adventure she fell asleep. She woke suddenly to find that someone was tying her wrists together with a cord that cut deeply into her flesh. Before she could scream, a hand was placed over her mouth. She kicked and struggled and bit the hand. There was an angry exclamation and the hand was removed, to be replaced by a piece of cloth which smelt strongly of goats. Then a sack was pulled over her head and she felt herself being lifted into the air and flung over someone’s shoulder. She fought with all her might but whoever held her was very strong and she was almost suffocating with lack of air. Presently she found herself bumped and banged about in a most unpleasant and frightening way and she gave up struggling altogether. After a while she felt almost ready to cry with discomfort and fright, but she was determined not to give her enemy the satisfaction of seeing her distress.