Serpent Goddess: The Horse Lords Book 1

by Diana Drakulich

  “Yah! YAH!” Standing balanced in the bouncing cart, Sava cracked the whip over the galloping stallion’s lathered back.

  And the golden horse responded, stretching out into a dead run. Wind blurring his vision, Sava’s mind was engulfed by drumming hooves and the furious howls of pursuing warriors. If the cart struck a rock at this speed, it would flip over and that would be the end.

  Ahead he saw the blue-green river clearly now. The horned river god, Boryesthenes, beckoned – Come you who thirst. Sink into my blue-green depths. I will embrace you...

  The thunder of pursuing hooves was getting louder. Suddenly poisoned arrows hissed out of the sky, thudding to earth just behind the cart. Soon they would be within arrow range.

  “Hah! HAH!” The cruel whip cracked the stallion’s back.

  And there it was, the glittering blue-green waters. Sava aimed the galloping horse toward what appeared to be a shallow ford.

  Horse and cart careened down the sandy bank and struck the water with a huge splash. Within moments the water had risen to the bottom of the cart bed.

  The temptation for the horse to stop and drink was extreme. Zlatna had sweated copiously. The horse had been running most of the day under a grueling sun.

  The golden stallion hesitated. Sava heard the animal’s desperate need louder than words - Just one drink.

  “Hah! HAH!” He cracked the whip.

  Knees lifted high, the stallion splashed on through the water. Exerting his last vestige of strength to drag the cart across the river against the current.

  And then they were slogging up onto the opposite bank.

  “Eee yah! Yah! YAH!”

  Without pause the horse set off. Sava drove him toward the closest giant barrow, crouched like an ancient sphinx on the plain.

  As he had hoped, the Black Cloaks stopped at the river, fearful of being caught trespassing on the sacred burial grounds of the Man Eaters. Horses milling in frustration, they screamed threats and curses while taking aim with their lethal double curved bows.

  “HaH! Yah! YAH!” Whistling and slapping the reins, Sava urged the stallion on.

  The exhausted horse gave his last, dragging the cart through the soft sandy river ground to the kurgan. Just as they reached the opposite side of the massive barrow, the sky blackened with an angry cloud of arrows.

  The stallion’s knees buckled. Releasing a deep groan, Zlatna went down. The golden horse had given his all. He had no more left to give.

  Chapter 3 - Hahq Among the Black Cloaks

  The Black Cloaks (Melanchaeni)

  All wear black garments

  For which they get their name –

  Herodotus, The Histories

  Several Days Later –

  After crossing into Melanchaenia, Hahq and his comrades were escorted by Black Cloak border guards into the camp of King Vartan. The whole camp was on edge. Talk buzzed as they passed, the tension acute.

  Hahq felt their stares, eyes following him like daggers in the back. There was more afoot here than the tension of strangers from a rival tribe entering camp. He sensed some crisis of deep import. And we have walked right into it.

  The thought flickered through his mind - Could it have anything to do with Sava? Nay Sava never angers anyone. And he brushed it away.

  Watching the Sauromatian strangers pass by on their magnificent prancing horses, Yeva cast her mental cloak of invisibility around her. She excelled at fading into the background. It was how she survived.

  Her long black cloak, embroidered at the edges with silver serpents, moons and stars, identified her as a priestess of Velesh, Black Serpent of the Underworld.

  She pulled the hood low to hide her eyes. Eyes of light sea blue with amber centers radiating out from strangely elliptical pupils. Her curse. For this she had been labeled a witch able to cast the Kako Mati - Evil Eye.

  Yeva’s parents had given her up as a babe to be raised by the female ennerei. She would never be taken as a wife. If by some chance she became pregnant, the newborn babe would be taken from her. And it was justified.

  For what husband could stand to look into my eyes, day in, day out? His family would always worry that I will put a curse on any who displease me. If some one fell ill and died their fingers would point at me first.

  Yeva’s appointed destiny was to serve as druggist, healer, spell caster, poisoner. Like the rest of her kind she was distrusted but needed. If she lived long enough, Yeva would rise to hold the same position as her aunt Gorya, high priestess to the Black Serpent.

  But she would always be suspect. Her life disposable.

  Gorya had saved her from being sacrificed to serve as Prince Kanxa’s concubine in the Other World. For this she owed her aunt a great debt. But four others had been Chosen to remain in the Dark House. Three of them dear to her heart.

  Sometimes Yeva thought it would have been better if she too had bled to death on the altar. Koldun’s words echoed interminably in her ears – `BLOOD is the food of the Gods!’

  Her faith in the gods and in man had died that day. What do I have to live for? I should have gone on to the Other World...

  The strangers’ tall fleet war horses glittered and jingled as they trotted by. Their harness was inlaid with dangling gold emblems that glimmered and tinkled. The sun captured gold glowing from sword sheaths, dagger handles, belts and jewelry.

  Light sparkled from polished iron scale armor, shields and spear points. One of the strangers carried a red banner emblazoned with the black image of the great Earth Mother, Mata Drakaina.

  So they are Sauromatae.

  The well-armed strangers projected an alert yet calm readiness. A focused awareness that anything could happen. And probably would.

  Though Yeva thought herself invisible as she watched spellbound, her hood had fallen back. Somehow their leader felt the weight of her regard. His regal head, encased by a gleaming bronze helmet turned to search the faces of bystanders along the way.

  Piercing eyes under expressive black brows sought her out. Crashed into her naked soul. Mentally she reeled from the impact. He is a king, in his own right.

  “Sauromatians.” Aunt Gorya sniffed. “See how they try to impress. So rich they even adorn their horses with gold. They claim descendance from Royal Skythians and the last Amazons. That could explain their height and looks. If it be true. Swaggering braggarts. It will take more than gold to impress King Vartan. Much more.”

  Yeva heard the envy in Gorya’s voice. She felt it too. The strangers’ horses pranced lightly, necks arched. A Black Cloak war band had recently returned with several spectacular Sauromatian horses they had taken in a night raid.

  Unfortunately Crown Prince Kanxa had been killed in that raid. A great loss. King Vartan was devastated by his son’s death.

  Do these Sauromatae even know that our prince was killed by their kinsmen?

  “We will see what brings these arrogant Reptile People to Melanchaenia.” Gorya turned and walked toward the entrance of Vartan’s yurt. Yeva followed at her heels. She would not miss this for the world.

  While the rest of his men waited outside, Hahq and his subaltern Voron, were shown into King Vartan’s spacious yurt.

  The Melanchaeni nobles were lined up in a V formation with the king seated on a dais at its head. All wore silver embroidered black cloaks, kurtas, leggings and boots. Suspicious dark eyes glittered in the dim light.

  Hahq sensed their unspoken anger. A barely restrained violence hung in the air. The wrong word, the wrong look could set these people off. We are completely outnumbered. There is no way we could fight our way out of here.

  Yeva watched from the sidelines as Hahq and Voron strode up the aisle, moving with lithe grace. The fierce, overwhelming tension in the air made it seem more like a gauntlet. But the Sauromatian leader bore himself with calm nobility.

  Tiny gold medallions dangling from the side seams of his tall black boots jingled softly with each step. Yet her healer’s eyes noted an almost imperceptible u
nevenness in his stride.

  He tries not to show it but he favors his right leg. A recent injury? Could he have been in the Sauromatian party that Prince Kanxa’s war band attacked?

  If King Vartan gets even a sniff, a hint of that, these strangers will be dead by tomorrow. The king is mad for vengeance. He is ready to kill them anyway.

  Halting at the proscribed distance, the two Sauromatae removed their helmets and went down on the knee, right palm over heart. Now Yeva had a closer look at their leader.

  A mane of shoulder length black hair framed expressive brows over piercing hazel eyes. A silky black mustache outlined sculpted lips to merge with a short black beard.

  “Rise.” Mouth pressed in a thin line, the king waved them up.

  “Greetings Honored King Vartan, I am Hahq, son of Kahki. I bring word from King Raymaxos of Sauromatia. As a token of our king’s good will I bring you this.”

  So saying he took from his neck an exquisite golden torque of gryphons battling lions. A noble stepped forward and the Sauromatian gave him the torque with both hands, head bowed in deference to the king.

  “Excellent craftsmanship. We are honored. State your business.” Vartan gave a brusque nod.

  “I bring you word - King Darius has invaded Thrakia. Once he has subdued the Getae, the Persians will cross the Ister into Skythia. We seek all those who value their freedom to form an alliance against Darius. In two moons a council of war will be held in Royal Skythia at Tanais. The Melanchaeni are invited to attend.”

  Eyes widened at this stunning news. The yurt was submerged in a beehive of voices as the nobles crowded in to voice their opinions to the king.

  From the Black Cloaks’ surprised reaction Hahq surmised that Sava had not made it this far. What happened to him?

  When Vartan spoke, the smirk on his face matched by smug looks from his nobles.

  “We thank you for your invitation to this `war council’. But the Melanchaeni are not fooled. You come at the behest of King Idanthrysus. Royal Skythia did not see fit to consult us before their ill advised invasion of Medea. Now they seek our aid to save them from Persian vengeance? Pah.” The king spat out his disgust.

  “Make no mistake, the Melanchaeni will come to the council. We will take pleasure in watching Royal Skythia grovel for allies against the greatest empire on earth.“ Vartan sneered. His nobles smirked, nodding affirmation.

  Hahq released a deep breath. At least the Black Cloaks are coming. Now all that remains is to ride out of here in one piece.

  “Very good your majesty.” Hahq bowed his head. “We look forward to seeing the Melanchaeni at the council. Your warriors are famed throughout Skythia. We hope that when you hear the strength of our cause you will consider joining the alliance.”

  “So it is settled then,” the king responded. “Where do you go next?”

  “To Androphagia.”

  Good luck with that - The king’s lips creased in a wry smile louder than words. “As for tonight, you will dine and stay with us.”

  Vartan will not let them go. Yeva thought. The king and his men are seething for a fight. Any pretext will do. Vartan wants revenge, even if these Sauromatae had no part in the prince’s death.

  “We thank you for your generous hospitality King Vartan.” To refuse would have been an insult. Hahq bowed and turned to leave, then paused.

  Against his better judgement Hahq asked - “One of my kinsman was sent before us to bring you news of the war council. He rides a golden stallion. His family fears he may be lost. Has anyone heard tell of him?”

  An incredulous scowl flickered across King Vartan’s face. Hahq instantly realized he had made a grave error. Too late now.

  The king’s eyes narrowed to dark glittering slits. “He has a golden horse?”

  “Aye.”

  “Big and fast with great endurance?”

  “Aye that stallion is the pride of Sauromatia.”

  A black curtain resonating grief and fury descended over the king’s eyes. The exploits of this bold tomb raider had been the talk of Melanchaenia. The air vibrated with fierce tension.

  “We saw someone with a golden horse – a Tomb Raider. He stole my son’s funeral cart. This thief also stole our sacrifice, a noble warrior who was to accompany Prince Kanxa into the Other World. My men chased your thieving kinsman all the way to the kurgans of the Man Eaters where he escaped.”

  Hahq cleared the sticky ball in his throat. “Ahh, that could not have been my kinsman. Sava is no grave thief. He is the son of our Great Voivode, Skopasis. He left Sauromatia with a saddlebag full of gold as gifts. Why would he raid your kurgan at great personal risk? It makes no sense. Did he steal any gold?”

  “Nay. He took no gold. Only the cart and the victim.”

  A sliver of hope bloomed in Yeva’s heart. To take such risk only makes sense only if the victim is not dead. The gods willing, Sargis still lives!

  This ‘Sava’ must have come after the sacrifice was over. He saw that Sargis was still alive and pitied him. Sargis and Mattahn were noble warriors who fought many battles. They did not deserve such a cruel fate, nor did Ruzanna. The `will of the gods’ be damned!

  My life was spared, for now. But who knows when my time will run out? Especially since Koldun hates me. In that moment Yeva determined to use all her skills to help Hahq and his men escape King Vartan’s vengeance.

  But these arrogant Sauromatae will have to pay my price.

  If you enjoyed this book, please send a review to Amazon. It will be much appreciated!

  Diana loves to hear from readers. Contact her at diana.drakulich@gmail.com.

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  About the Author -

  Diana Drakulich is an equestrienne, world traveler and a student of ancient history.

  The Horse Lords series is dedicated to studying the mysterious origins of mankind, ancient peoples, religion and spirituality.

  Credits –

  Sava’s song on the way to Gelonus is taken from Nart Sagas from the Caucasus, Myths and Legends, Edited by John Colarusso

  Sava’s song to Mikon’s family is from the Serbian folk song – Grow Grow My Green Pine – (`Rasti Rasti’)

  The Budini chant - `Beware the Mother’s of Night’ – is from an ancient Armenian chant

  The Budini chant at the Oracle of Targitaos is taken in part from the Egyptian Book of the Dead

  Glossary

  Because the Skythians (Latin – Scythians) and Sauromatae left no written language, this book contains some Slavic and Greek words. The Pontic Greeks lived amongst and intermarried with the Skythians and Sauromatae of the Black Sea region. Most of what we know about these people today was recorded by the Greeks. But the Romans, Persians and Chinese also wrote about them. Whenever possible I have tried to remain true to the historic record and research available. But this is a turbulent field of evolving research and opinion.

  Ah-Gin – god of fire sword and war

  Herodotus wrote that Skythians and Sauromatae worshipped `Ares’, the Greek god of war as their primary god of sacrifice. Russian anthropologists have posited the war god was called `Ahgin’, very similar to ‘Agni’ the Vedic god of fire and sacrifice. The Shatapatha Brahmana (VI.ii.1.2-3) lists five types of sacrificial victims: man, bull, horse, ram and he-goat. The Indo-European Migration Theory posits that based on European and Indian language similarities, North India was invaded by (Skythian) ‘Indo Europeans’ from the Black Sea steppes region after the development of the war chariot in 1800 BC.

  Akinake – short bronze or iron sword

  Androphagi – tribe of cannibals

  Boryesthenes River – Dneiper

  Boukolos – priests of Dionysos

  Drakons – pythons, giant serpents, or half men. From this word comes `dragon’

  Drakon blood – RH negative blood type

  Ennerei – priests

  Euxine Sea – Greek Pontus Euxinus - `Sea of
Harmony’. Today the Black Sea

  Gorytos – quiver

  Ister – Danube River

  Kako Mati – Evil Eye

  Kidaris – fitted body suit worn by Skythians and Sauromatae

  Kontos – 12+ foot lance

  Kurgan – giant funeral barrow

  Lake Maeotis – Sea of Azov

  Drakaina – serpent queen progenitor of Skythian peoples

  Pontus – Region around the Euxine (Black) Sea.

  Pythia – oracular priestess

  Skythian – Scythian. Skythian is the ancient Greek pronuciatian. Scythian is the Latin spelling. For some reason Romans turned Greek hard K’s into soft and hard C sounds.

  Sword in the Stone – Ah-Gin, god of fire, sword and war

  Tanais River – Don River

  Tanais – Greek/Royal Skythian trading town on Tanais River near the Black Sea

  Thrakia – Thrace

  Velesh – Black Serpent of the Underworld

  Voivode – war leader

  Vukodlak – `Wolf Hair’ – interchangeable term for Werewolf or Vampire.

  Vukodlak (Werewolf interchangeable with Vampire) is Slavic. Belief in werewolves and vampires was already entrenched by 500 BC. Herodotus records that an entire Skythian tribe, the Neuri, were renowned for their ability to change into wolves.

  Vampirism or blood-drinking was not just common practice but mandatory – `A Skythian has to drink the blood of the first enemy he fells’ - Herodotus.

  Folkloric traditions of vampires and werewolves are traditional among the Slavs who occupy much of ancient Skythia and Sauromatia today. This appears to be a clear cultural link.

  SOURCES

  (Partial list) –

  Anabasis by Xenophon, trans by William Rainey Harper, American Book Co.

  The Histories, by Herodotus, trans by Robin Waterfield, Oxford Univ Press, NY

  The Chemical Muse – Drug Use and the Roots of Western Civilization by D.C.A. Hillman PhD. St. Martin’s Press, NY

  Egyptian Book of the Dead – Papyrus of Ani, trans by Dr. Ramses Seleem, Godsfield Press, NY