CHANTS TO
PERSEPHONE
Jennifer Macaire
Published by Accent Press Ltd 2018
Octavo House
West Bute Street
Cardiff
CF10 5LJ
www.accentpress.co.uk
Copyright © Jennifer Macaire 2018
The right of Jennifer Macaire to be identified as the author of this work has been asserted by the author in accordance with the Copyright, Designs and Patents Act 1988.
The story contained within this book is a work of fiction. Names and characters are the product of the author’s imagination and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.
All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, electrostatic, magnetic tape, mechanical, photocopying, recording or otherwise, without the written permission of the publisher Accent Press Ltd.
Octavo House
West Bute Street
Cardiff
CF10 5LJ
ISBN 9781786154613
eISBN 9781786154606
“The soul, at the moment of death, feels the same impression as those who are initiated into the Great Mysteries … first it is like being lost on a long, winding walk through eerie darkness. Then, just before the end, the terror, the cold sweat, and the horror are at their greatest. At once a marvellous light appears to the eyes: we pass into a green meadow where singing is heard …”
Themistius – Religious Chants to Persephone
Initiate: ‘I come from a virtuous people, O pure Queen of Hades … for I believe I belong to your kind, but destiny struck me down … I broke free from the circle of pain and sorrow and I leapt lightly toward my chosen crown; I took refuge in the arms of the Lady, Queen of Hades.’
The goddess replies: ‘O Fortunate One! O Blessed One! You have become a god, from the man you once were.’
And the initiate concludes with this mysterious reply: ‘Kid, I fell into the milk.’
Words which form the rites of initiation to the Cult of Orpheus
Contents
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Chapter Seventeen
Chapter Eighteen
Chapter Nineteen
Chapter Twenty
Chapter Twenty-one
Chapter Twenty-two
Chapter Twenty-three
Chapter Twenty-four
Chapter Twenty-five
Chapter Twenty-six
Chapter Twenty-seven
Chapter Twenty-eight
Chapter Twenty-nine
Chapter Thirty
Chapter Thirty-one
Chapter Thirty-two
Chapter Thirty-three
Chapter Thirty-four
Chapter Thirty-five
Chapter Thirty-six
Chapter Thirty-seven
Chapter Thirty-eight
Chapter Thirty-nine
Chapter One
Alexander looked across the waves toward the new city. The arms of the bay curved out from either side of the wide port. White marble buildings lined the shore. Behind them stood brightly painted stone houses. The sea was very blue, the buildings sparkled in the light, and he narrowed his eyes to slits as he stared.
‘It’s still not very far along,’ he said.
‘It looks wonderful.’ I took his arm and smiled. The sun was blinding. I wished I had a pair of sunglasses. Well, maybe I could invent them. The new city of Alexandria looked much better than I’d expected. I’d been there once before. Three thousand years in the future Alexandria, second largest city in Egypt, would be a steaming, sprawling, noisy, smelly city.
Right now, it was probably just smelly. I wrinkled my nose. We were arriving in the port and men were rushing up the wharves toward us. Someone had a basket of fish in his arms.
When we reached the dock, Nearchus leapt lightly ashore and tied the boat. I was impatient to disembark and walk on dry land. We’d been at sea for weeks.
In June 323 BC, we had sailed from the mouth of the Euphrates, down the Persian Gulf, into the Indian Ocean, and through the Red Sea. We’d taken a camel caravan across the desert to Gaza. Afterwards, we’d taken another ship to Alexandria. It had taken three months. I was tired of travelling, tired of boats and camels. I wanted to stay in a real house with a real bath and sleep in a real bed.
Alexander, my husband, felt the same. He didn’t much care for boats. Every time he boarded one, he was seasick. Unlike Nearchus. The tall blond admiral was more at home on a boat than on land. At this moment, he was reefing the sails as we got everything packed. We were planning to spend at least a month here. Then we would head to Memphis, where Alexander would meet Ptolemy Lagos and discuss what was to be done with the kingdom.
Not that Alexander had a lot to say in the matter. Officially, he was dead. Alexander the Great, King of Heaven and Earth, had contracted malaria and died after seven days of high fever and delirium.
Only he hadn’t died. I’d saved him.
I, Ashley of the Sacred Sandals, born three thousand years in the future, ex-time-travelling journalist, and kidnapped by Alexander eleven years ago in Arbeles, had cheated the Fates. I was reputed to be Demeter’s daughter, Persephone. At least, that’s what people had thought. Now they believed I’d returned to Hades, God of the Dead. A fitting end, I thought.
Yet here I was, on a beautiful morning, standing on a stone pier in Alexandria. By my side was my husband and in my arms a baby girl. Cleopatra was a tiny infant with dark grey eyes, a sweet smile, and a loud voice. When she was hungry, everyone knew.
My eldest child, Paul, was ten. He was helping Nearchus square the boat away. He was a tall boy, slender and blond as a young Viking. I thought he must look very much like my ancestors. We shared the same broad cheekbones and slanted blue eyes. The sun had bleached his hair almost white. He was big for his age and had his father’s proud nose and mobile mouth.
My other son, Chiron, was six years old. He was darker than Paul, with brown curly hair and bright hazel eyes. His face was triangular, with a mischievous expression. He looked very much like his father Plexis, better known as Hephaestion. Plexis was busy down below getting our baggage ready, not that we had very much. He was completely at ease on a boat, although he preferred horses. He had been Alexander’s cavalry general.
Nearchus had been Alexander’s admiral. And Usse, the thin-faced, dark man coming up on deck was Alexander’s doctor. He was Egyptian and stood very still and breathed deeply. I wondered what he felt like being back in the country where he’d been born, grown up, and sold as a slave. He was a slave no longer.
He caught me looking at him and smiled. When he smiled his teeth looked very white in his dark face. His hair was starting to turn silver at the temples. He was a handsome man. I thought perhaps he would marry Chirpa and settle here. Chirpa was Greek, from Athens. She had been a slave in Babylon. Now she was free, and as she came on deck the
wind whipped her copper hair around her face and turned her cheeks pink.
‘This is beautiful!’ she exclaimed.
Alexander heard her and smiled. ‘I planned the whole city myself,’ he said proudly. ‘I can’t wait to go see it.’
I couldn’t wait either, but first we had to get settled in our new house. Plexis had found it, and assured us it was comfortable.
‘With a bath?’ I asked, suspiciously.
‘Of course.’ Plexis grinned. ‘You’ll love it. It’s one of the new villas beyond the city walls. There’s even a kitchen.’
‘Even a kitchen?’ I raised my eyebrows. ‘I certainly hope there’s a kitchen – and a decent bathroom as well.’ But in the general rush and excitement of arrival, my comments went unnoticed.
I wondered what the house would be like. I’d just spent ten years in a tent. The last house I’d lived in had two kitchens, fifteen bedrooms, ten bathrooms, a service elevator, and a ballroom. I didn’t think the houses here even had doors that closed. I imagined something along the lines of a mud-daub building, with all of us crowding into a smoky living room and sharing a cramped bedroom. Well, at least it wouldn’t rock under our feet.
At the waterfront, a horse and cart waited to take our baggage. Alexander put me in the cart and settled Cleopatra in my arms. Paul and Chiron clambered in the back, and Chirpa found a seat next to the driver. The driver touched his whip to the horse’s back, and we set off through the city.
We must have seemed a strange group. I was tall for a woman of that time, and with my white-blonde hair, stood out like a dove in a flock of crows. Chirpa was a redhead, and her penny-bright hair reached her hips.
Walking beside us were the men: Alexander, who caught the eye and held it because of his magnetism; Plexis, who was tall, dark and handsome; and Nearchus, who was even taller with a shining helmet of red-gold hair. Brazza and Millis were eunuchs. Brazza was an older man but graceful and walked lightly as a dancer. His head had always been shaved smooth and he had no beard. It was impossible to give him an age – only the wise look in his eyes made me think he was older than any of us even guessed. Millis was young. He was Darius’s son by a slave woman. He was the tallest of all the men, standing nearly one metre ninety. His long and straight hair was golden brown, and he had golden eyes. Brazza and Millis were mutes. A particularly horrible practice of the time was the cutting out of slaves’ tongues. Both men had been castrated and Brazza was deaf as well. Neither of them wanted pity from anyone. It would have been a terrible insult. Axiom, Alexander’s valet, was a Jew. A serious man, he had voyaged with Alexander for thirteen years now. He was also a philosopher and loved to discuss new ideas and theology. He had been Alexander’s slave until we set him free, as we had Usse and Brazza. Now, according to law, they were our godchildren. Most of all, they were our friends.
We looked around the city in admiration, commenting on everything we saw. Plexis pointed out particular features for us. He had been in Alexandria when the plans had been laid. He showed us the great library, the courthouse, the baths, and the gymnasium. Nearchus admired the deep bay with ample moorings for trading boats. Chirpa exclaimed over the market place, and Usse was thrilled to see a large hospital. I watched Alexander. As we drove through the new city his smile grew wider and wider. He turned to me, his cheeks flushed, and he laughed.
‘It’s just as I’d imagined it!’ he cried. ‘Look, over there. That’s where the sewage goes.’
‘I’m speechless,’ I teased.
He looked at me sharply, but nothing could ruin his good mood. ‘And see the road? See how there are crossings, so when it rains you don’t get your feet wet? The water all runs down to the harbour. There’s no garbage in the streets, did you notice?’ His voice was excited, like a child’s.
I nodded. ‘I did notice. This was your first city and I think it’s marvellous.’ Following the harbour’s curve was a waterfront main avenue, lined with tall date palms and classical-style buildings of golden stone.
He turned toward me again and I saw he was crying. He was always crying or laughing. Like nearly everyone of his time, he wore his emotions close to the surface. And his emotions were stronger than most. He reached up and grasped my hand, squeezing it tightly.
‘Ashley,’ he whispered. ‘I can’t believe I’m seeing my city again. By rights I should be a dead soul, fluttering like a dry leaf in the kingdom of Hades.’
‘I’m so glad you’re not,’ I told him gently.
‘Sometimes I have nightmares that I’m trapped in that darkness, and I wake up in a cold sweat all over. But today, with the sun shining so brightly, and the city new and sparkling all around us, I feel as if I’ve just been born. Like Aphrodite from the waves.’
Plexis cocked an eyebrow at his friend. ‘Aphrodite?’
Alexander grinned. ‘Don’t say it. I know I sound ridiculous, but I’m in such a good mood I feel like singing …’
‘No!’ we shouted at him.
‘No, don’t sing,’ said Plexis, shaking his head. ‘We’re very glad you’re so happy, and we’re happy too, believe me, but don’t sing, all right?’
Alexander looked at us, his head tilted to one side. ‘Fine, I won’t sing, but I would like some music. So you sing.’
We sang. The wagon rolled smoothly over the streets as our voices rose to the heavens. We sang the ‘sacred’ song I’d taught everyone on the boat as we sailed through the wine-dark sea. ‘Sailing, sailing, over the bounding main, oh, many a stormy wind shall blow ’ere Jack comes home again …’
Alexander held my hand as he walked alongside the wagon. The sunlight turned his hair to gold. He turned his eyes to me, one blue, one brown, and smiled. And when he smiled like that, I thought fondly, I would gladly follow him to Hades and back.
Chapter Two
Our villa was a pleasant surprise. It was built on the site of a spring. There was a well in the house and a fountain in the courtyard.
I was impressed. Not only by the proportions, but by the decorations as well. In the dining room, the entire floor was covered with tiny blue tiles, like an ocean, and brightly coloured fish of every kind seemed to swim and splash about. Frescoes depicting scenes from the Greek myths covered the walls, and even the ceilings were painted. The doors were double, opening at the top and bottom. The windows were large with latticed shutters, making it bright and airy yet cool when the sun was high.
The furniture was made of painted or gilded wood. Cushions of every colour lined the sofas. The bedrooms were furnished with large beds and dressers. It was as luxurious as a palace.
We stared, our mouths hanging open.
Plexis smirked. ‘Nice, isn’t it?’
‘It’s incredible,’ I admitted, sinking down on a sofa and looking around. ‘This house is beautiful.’
‘Well, it should be,’ Plexis said, ‘It’s mine.’
‘Yours?’ We gaped at him, and even Nearchus, always serious, looked surprised.
‘I had it built before leaving for Persepolis. I’ve been renting it out since then. Now there’s money in the bank for us here, and we won’t have to worry about a roof over our heads.’
The thought that we were practically penniless had crossed our minds. Only Plexis had seemed unconcerned, and now we knew why. He grinned.
‘And you haven’t seen the best part. Come.’ He led us out of the garden and down a shady path. There was a wooden door in a tall stone wall. He opened it with a flourish. We gasped. A swimming pool.
Alexander laughed shakily. ‘Well, perhaps I am dead after all, and this is the paradise Ashley spoke of.’
Chiron and Paul streaked by us and jumped into the cool water. The boys were soon splashing each other, while I sat in the shade and nursed Cleopatra. The boys played in the pool all afternoon, only leaving the water to eat the fruit and cheese Axiom brought us.
I sat on a cushion and held Cleopatra. I never grew tired of watching my children. Paul floated on his back and wiggled his toes in the pool. Ch
iron sat next to me, his curls full of sparkling drops of water. Both boys looked healthy. Paul had suffered from nightmares on the first half of our journey but was settling down now. Chiron was used to travelling, he had been born in the army.
I was so happy to have both boys close. I would sometimes burst into tears thinking of all the years I’d been separated from Paul. He was ten years old now, and I hardly knew him. He smiled at me; perhaps he sensed I was thinking of him. He rested his arms on the side of the pool, his chin in his hands.
‘Will we stay here long?’ he asked. His Greek was clear, with a faint Persian accent. He also spoke Sogdian and Bactrian, and I was teaching him Latin and English.
‘I don’t know,’ I said. ‘A month, maybe two. We have to go to Memphis and meet one of your father’s generals.’ ‘I know, Ptolemy Lagos.’ Paul cocked his head to the side, his father’s gesture. ‘And then where will we go?’
‘I don’t know.’ I yawned. ‘Does it matter?’
He shook his head. ‘Not as long as I’m with you. Please, Mother, don’t ever leave me again.’
My eyes filled with tears, and I touched his cheek. ‘I will never leave you again, I promise.’
His face relaxed, and he slid back into the water. In an instant, he’d become a little boy again, shouting at his brother to watch him do a somersault in the pool.
I watched them until the shadows grew long. Then we dried off and went back up the path to the house. Axiom and Brazza had prepared dinner, and we ate together in the dining room. The garden’s flowers spread their perfume.
When the air turned navy blue, and the stars started to show on the night sky, we lit the lamps and I put my children to bed. Paul and Chiron shared a room with Brazza. Axiom slept in the small room next to the bureau, Usse and Chirpa took the two rooms facing his.
Alexander and I shared a room in the back part of the house with Cleopatra and Millis. Cleopatra had a new cradle, and Millis always slept at the foot of my bed – nothing would make him move. If I ordered him away, he’d look at me and his eyes would fill with tears. I had finally become used to having him sleeping on a pallet nearby.
Chants to Persephone: The Future of the World Hangs on a Knife's Edge - and Only a Human Sacrifice Can Save It Page 1