Kallista

by David Bell

  In Merida’s mansion the manservant was looking down at the pieces of a wine flask painted with flying swallows and wondering how he could tell his master that it had been broken again.

  ***

  Koreta decided that the day when the sun stood still should be the day for the first distribution of a ration of grain and oil from the Residency magazines. The reserves had been increased by supplies sent in by the wealthier merchants and landowners in response to his messages and, with care, they should be able to get through the winter without too much distress. Now there would be a lttle extra to add to whatever the thrifty had been saving for the festival that marked the shortest day of the year and the promise that the light would return, the days grow longer and the earth see its fertility flourish once more. This year there would be no baskets filled with loaves for the young girls to carry as they danced along the streets and precious few jars of wine to be tapped, but there would be a cake or two, and some oil to dip them in, perhaps even a drop of beer to dull the growing fear and hunger. Who cared what the next days might bring? The sun always had risen again after the shortest day, had it not, and grown stronger and drawn the new life from the cold ground? This was a night for revelry, for lifting of the spirits. Koreta gave orders to Dorejo that the torches should be lit throughout the town when the moon was at its height and that all but the most reckless should be allowed to celebrate as they wished.

  After his wife had departed for the Temple to attend the vigil, Merida ordered more braziers to be brought into the room against the chill night air and the wine from Halaba to be served to the friends he had invited to observe the hallowed time. The strong wine would loosen their tongues and he might learn things useful to him. The dancing of the young manservant would be an exciting diversion. Merida had already watched him rehearsing his interpretation of the rites peformed on this night in ancient times. Through the fumes of the wine his guests would dimly see the hunt and capture of the prey, the soundless screaming and the rending and the slurping of blood, the ecstatic blending of the supplicant with the deity and, in the end, the presentation of the new life; all in silence, as if in a dream.

  Dareka looked steadily at the moon, now high in the night sky and the skeins of cloud slowly passing across its face. There were effigies of the Lady Mother on tables and in alcoves in the room but she was not in his thoughts. It had always been the womens’ night. He had heard that in remote places the liquors of Diwonis that some knew how to brew, still drove them into a frenzy of dancing on this night and, dressed in animal skins, with squirming snakes in their hands and bearing their twisted wands, the rout hunted any prey that strayed into its path in such madness that no man or boy was safe. He still recalled the fear in his grandfather’s voice when the old man spoke of it. He had said nothing of this to Sharesh, nor to his wife, but when she left the house at dusk to make her way up to the Temple on the Hill, she had looked at him in a way that made the hair stir on his neck, a look that said he, a man, must know he had no part in this.

  Akusha stood in the crescent of priestesses and matron servants of the Lady Mother watching the High Priestess as she approached the altar on which lay the newly severed head of the goat, its blood falling in heavy droplets to the floor. Each wore a girdle of goatskin and carried a wand of the pungent weed with ivy leaves twisted along the stem and around a pinecone at the tip. They softly chanted the words of offering as the High Priestess progressed past them, dipping her finger in the silver bowl held by an acolyte that contained the goat’s blood and smearing a little on each forehead and each lower lip. She returned to the altar, faced the crescent of expectant radiant faces and held up both her arms. A single exultant cry rose from every throat followed by a long silence. Soft notes from a pipe, like a lullaby, were heard and a cradle was carried in by the youngest acolyte and placed in the centre of the crescent. In the cradle was a baby, fast asleep. Each one present placed a leaf from the ivy on her wand in the cradle and softly left the room. The High Priestess was last to leave. The acolyte remained to keep the child safe. Later they would perform a stately dance in another part of the Temple, swaying and turning about one another like a prey fleeing from the hunter, but slowly and reverently, with no sound but that of the pipe.

  On a bare hilltop overlooking the Lagoon the women sprawled, naked and unconscious in the rough dry grass as the moon, now low in the sky, looked down. Dried blood soiled their faces and some had it on their lips. They twitched and snored and now and again one gave out a scream. Two old men approached them cautiously and carefully spread coarse blankets over them before scuttling away. They would have sore heads and stiff limbs in the morning, but at least they would not freeze to death.

  THE SHIP

  Kanesh stood outside Naudok’s workroom at the shipyard and looked towards the Palace where many more lights than usual were shining. He was aware that elaborate cerremonies were taking place on this night but for him there were more important thngs to think about. He turned to Potyr.

  “Thirty crew, all told; twenty oars, yourself, Typhis, myself and the boy and that leaves six. You say the fishermen twins, they share a single name?”

  “Leptos: they will help feed us, stand lookout and take a turn at an oar when needed.”

  “As we cannot tell them apart, let us say they count as one and so make room for the pilot, Luzar, the prize won with my wager. The lady thinks she has him snared but the call home will spring him from her trap. Add the carpenter and his mate who knows cordage and sail and we are looking for two more.”

  “The quarryman.”

  “I agree. I see him as mate to the helmsman as well as giving us further strength and weapon skill. I have one other man in mind but, taking the meat from the jaws of a lion will be child’s play compared with persuading Sekara to let him go.”

  “You mean the Captain of Archers; then let him bring with him two of his men from Kydona. They will also know the sea and how to row. Point out to Sekara the value of giving his archers experience against as yet unknown adversaries. For the other eighteen oars I have men in mind, most from Kallista whom I have watched on the Dolphin and took with me on Kaperon’s ship out there.”

  “So we have a full crew; if all can be persuaded to sail with us. ”

  “There is one more who, if you do not take him, will assuredly follow us in any craft he can lay his hands on. You do not say so but in your heart you know you have persuaded yourself that he should be with us.”

  “Persuading myself was hard enough. Persuading the moon not to rise will be easier than persuading his mother.”

  “You do not have to persuade her. He will do that.”

  “We shall have a crew of thirty one.”

  Potyr smiled one of his rare smiles. “With two half-grown men, I reckon thirty.”

  “All being well, it will without doubt be thirty one when we return.”

  “I could not persuade her to return, even if I wished to do so, which I do not,” said Akusha. “She has told me what happened at the Palace and I have good reason to believe her. She went there proud in the belief that she would bring honour to her family by devoting herself to the Lady Mother and showing that devotion through her skill in the dance and reverence in the ceremonies. To discover that she was expected to offer herself in a rite that most believe lapsed long ago, brought to her a moment of horror which has damaged her pride and weakened her devotion. What is left must be patiently and gently fostered so that she may, in time, see her way to enter some simpler form of service, for certainly, she will not go back to the other. I know that myself full well.”

  Tuwea could hardly believe her own ears. Could it be that someone disagreed with her and in such a matter, or any matter, come to that? However, she was not too blind to recognise implacability when she saw it, especially in one whom she sensed to be her equal, at least, in lineage. Yet things could not be left like that.

  “Very well; but remember, lady, whatever others may say, or do, in the end it is the
Palace which decides and its decisions do not change.”

  Everyone said later that it was the sea that saved them. When the fish catch grew smaller, the rock pools and shallow reefs were scoured for crabs and all kinds of shells, even the round spiney ones that some said were poisonous unless you cooked them, until the rocks were bare. Boys were then sent with baskets to dive down into the deeper waters to gather whatever they found there, even the big triton shells, imploring the Lord Potheidan to forgive them in their need for food. When almost everything had been taken from the sea and the grain jars and oil casks were almost empty, a fisherman from Balloso came to the town with a basket full of the bearded red fish whose flesh was sweet. Before he had a chance to sell his catch, Men of the Watch hustled him into the Governor’s Residence to tell where he had found such riches. Nervous and speechless at first in the Governor’s presence, he eventually calmed down under Koreta’s courteous questioning and revealed that, two days ago, he had come across two places in the Lagoon where shoals of the red fish as well as others, swarmed in numbers he had never seen before. One place was near Balloso and the other, and here he looked guiltily at his feet and mumbled, was near the shore of Korus. The water in these places felt warmer than he remembered and had bubbles in it floating up from the sea bottom where the red fish sought their food. Koreta thanked him, said that he would be paid for his fish which would be held back for distribution later, and send him on his way. He then called in Dorejo and gave orders that the Watch was to patrol the Lagoon and ensure that a fair quantity of the fish caught there should be salted and brought to the town for distribution to the hungry people.

  “On the day the sun stood still, another prayer was said, a prayer of supplication to the Lady Mother said only in a time of the deepest need. Posedeia, Lady of the Seas, answered the prayer with her gift of fish and the people are saved.”

  Koreta looked at her politely. He respected people for their beliefs, if not the beliefs themselves.

  “Lady Akusha, I am grateful, we are all grateful, for the High Priestess’s intercession. Her choice of relief was to everyone’s, er, taste. Perhaps the Lady Mother may now turn her attention to the land, seeing that the days grow longer and warmer.”

  “Already the grass is turning green and the kids will soon be born. It is time for planting.”

  “And for the ships to be made ready for sea. But before they sail, there is to be a ceremony, I think?”

  She smiled, then looked a little sadly, thought Koreta. A boy might become a man, but for his mother there was always something of his childhood that remained in her heart.

  “My son. He is being prepared.”

  “Who will stand for him at the presentation?”

  “It is my hope that his father will be there.”

  “Do you know what you are asking?” said Potyr.

  “Too much, perhaps,” replied Kanesh, “but you can see for yourself that the skies are clear and the seas are quiet. Last night the Sailors’ Star was as bright as it ever is and the Hunter still roams the skies. I defer to you, but I think we have a chance and Kallista is in need. Koreta will have done all he can but it may not be enough.”

  “I will sail if you will tell me if any other reason urges you to take this risk.”

  “We have been through too many dangers together for me to hide anything from you, even if I could,” said Kanesh. “I was made his guardian and I have seen him through his separation from his home and his testing on Keftiu. I should be there for the ceremony when he is gathered back into his family and has the tokens of manhood bestowed on him.”

  “Very well. If you can prevail on Sekara to release the supplies, I will give orders to load the ship. It must be done today and we must sail tonight. I do this only because it is open sea we have to cross; I would not hazard my ship in any coastal waters. You will have some explaining to do to Merida, if we ever reach Kallista, that is. May the Lady Mother speed us on our way.”

  And a good strong sail and some stout arms, thought Kanesh, and a pig to throw in the sea.

  It was cold in the cave but that was part of the ordeal. One of the other boys began to whimper, whether from the cold or fear of the dark, Sharesh could not tell and they were forbidden to speak, so he could not ask. There were strange noises, flutterings and pattering sounds and sighing. Sharesh was surprised to realise he was not afraid. An older boy had told him the cave was home to devils that breathed fire and flew through the dark air, but Sharesh knew that could not be so because no one was allowed to tell what went on in the cave, and in any case he knew the way bats flew and that water dripped from the roof in every cave and the wind sighed through crevices. He wanted the dawn to come and the white-robed priestess to call them out into the light but he was not afraid of this place, not after what had happened to him in all those dark passages and hidden rooms in the Palace. The priestess had told them that they would be in the presence of the Lady Mother and that she would protect them, but what he remembered was that it was Namun who had come to help him in the dark passages. Would Namun ever have a ceremony? It was cold without any clothes. He tried to imagine all the places he had been swimming where the water was warm: the sea near the shipyard on Keftiu; White Bay in the summer, with Kallia; and, best of all, the cove in the Lagoon, not long ago, with Kallia again.

  When dawn came they would hear the sound of a bell, they had been told. There it was, very faint. They had to go out, into the dawn of a new day and a new life. Hungry, cold and shivering, they crept past the dim shapes of altars and effigies to the mouth of the cave. On the flat ground outside stood a crescent of priestesses holding wands of twisted ivy leaves, their white robes tinged pink by the rays of a red gold sun whose curved tip rose above the distant Mountain peak. The boys stood, shy in their nakedness, wondering what would happen next. The line of priestesses parted and a man appeared carrying a basket which he opened in front of the boys and held up new striped kilts for them to put on, followed by new leather sandals. Each one was touched on the forehead by the leading priestess with her wand and told that he had come out of the cave naked as a child and was now clothed as a man.

  When all was ready, everyone began the descent of the stony track that led to the Temple, priestesses first, chanting hymns to the Lady Mother, and the boys next, in line. The man came last, hissing at the boys that they were to stay quiet and respectful like grown-ups and to leave any skylarking for the games at the end of the day.

  In the Temple they entered a place they had never seen before and never would see again: a cold high chamber with paintings of sacred animals prowling through groves of trees and flowers on the walls while birds flew overhead, painted on the ceiling. The light of the now fully risen sun shone through a window and fell on the white column of an altar at the far end of the chamber where the High Priestess stood with her arms upraised and her eyes closed in prayer. Silence fell. No one moved, hardly dared to breathe. Time passed and still there was silence. At last Sharesh could stand it no longer and slowly turned his head to look behind. Everyone else had gone: the boys were alone with the High Priestess. When he looked again to his front, her eyes were wide open, staring straight at him and staring so hard he felt he would turn to stone. Slowly her gaze softened. Could it be that she was smiling at him? Her eyes were large and dark, almond-shaped, with high painted eyebrows, and her robe was of yellow silk, festooned with sparkling sequins, and lying on her breast was a silver pendant with a blue jewel held inside a spiral of gold wire. She was the High Priestess, he knew, but for a moment he thought she was Pasipha. Was that why she smiled? Could she see into his thoughts?

  She turned away and faced the altar. She began to speak slowly at first in a sweet, clear voice. Each boy felt she was speaking only to him. Her words told them that because they had shown courage and patience they could now be told the sacred secret stories that they must tell to no other. Her voice grew deeper and stronger as she chanted the mysteries of the seas and the mountains and how the people c
ame from where the fire met the earth and how they overcame the monsters that lay in wait for them and how they built the great palaces and the ships that sailed to distant lands, and how they came to count all the names of the Lady Mother and to see that she was in everything around them and could be worshipped in everything. At last her voice slowed and sank to a whisper and her last words burned into their memories, words of command, never to reveal what they had heard on this dawn of their new life and now to go, out into the bright air and rejoice in the strength the Lady Mother had given to them.

  The sunlight dazzled them at first and they stood rubbing their eyes and feeling the warmth seep into their cold limbs. The town lay below them, its streets of white-walled houses seeming to tumble towards the sea. And on the blue sea, closing on the harbour, was a white sail. Strange; but there was no time to make sure it was a sail and not the whipped-up crest of a wave; they had to be off.

  Down to the town they ran, shouting and laughing to be free, each trying to outrun the others and be first into the streets where they knew their families and friends and all the people of the town waited to greet them and cheer them on. Tiredness and hunger were forgotten for the moment and the streets were filled with people who waved green branches and shouted watch the new men run! On past the Lady’s House, along Telchina Street they raced, through the Square and past the Little Labyrinth and the Dyer’s House until they arrived sweating and breathless before the door of the Residence. Dareka was there, and his mother so graceful in her long white gown. Parents seized their sons and wiped their faces and quietened the excited boys. The final part of the ceremony awaited them inside.

  One by one they walked over the alabaster floor of the great painted hall towards the Governor who stood on his dais at the end. Arms folded upwards with clenched fists in front of his chest, each one stood in turn before Koreta and had the locks of his bound-up hair loosened, the leather belt secured about his waist and the shell necklace fastened around his throat. To each the Governor made the gesture of welcome and spoke a few soft words, commending their bravery and skills. Sharesh never forgot the words the Governor added for him alone: