‘What will Anoramix do now?’ I asked.
‘I don’t know, but the sacrifice must be tomorrow night.’
‘Why then?’
‘There is no moon that night. The child of the moon will be helpless. The prophecies will all come true. The signs have been many…’
‘How many men does Anoramix have?’ asked Alexander, interrupting. ‘How are they armed? Is his cave on a slope or on level ground?’
I recognized the army leader and sank back in the straw with a contented sigh. I had confidence in Alexander’s ability to lead men and to fight. I closed my eyes. He would be talking tactics for a while yet. Now was a good time for a nap. I was exhausted.
When I woke up it was late afternoon. The cart was still moving. I was warm, straw tickled my nose, and snow made a thick blanket over me. I didn’t want to stir. The snow-covered straw insulated against the cold so well that I was perfectly toasty and comfortable. Therefore, I snuggled deeper and dozed some more. I hadn’t had a decent sleep since the night poor Millis had been killed. Poor, beautiful Millis, he had looked so much like his father.
I remembered the first time I’d seen Darius, king of all Persia. He’d been sitting on his throne, and when he stood, he’d taken my breath away. Tall, with black hair, smooth skin, and golden eyes like a lion. He had been naked except for a gold chain around his neck.
It had been in Persepolis, the sacred city Alexander had destroyed in a fit of rage. I could recall the day the city fell. The spring breeze had been soft as a kiss. Bright sunlight sparkled on the white marble, dazzling me. A dead slave sat in Darius’s throne with his throat cut, while two of his generals hung above him, their skin flayed. The only colours had been the sparkling white of the marble, the empty blue of the sky, and the scarlet blood as it ran across the hot stone.
All that, because Paul had been kidnapped by Darius. Now Anoramix had Paul, the Harbinger of Destruction.
I wondered if Anoramix realized just what the Harbinger of Destruction’s father was capable of when he got angry.
Chapter Nineteen
We arrived in the sacred woods at sunset. Yovanix started to tremble. He looked so ill that I took pity on him.
‘What is the worst thing that could happen?’ I asked him.
He looked at me, the whites of his eyes showing all spooked.
‘The worst? The worst thing will be that Anoramix will realize that the men that are supposed to be sacrificed have escaped, and he’ll insist on sacrificing me instead.’
‘Won’t that be a great honour?’ I could hardly keep the sarcasm out of my voice and he blushed.
‘You know I’m not Gallic,’ he said.
‘I don’t know what you are.’
‘I do.’ It was Nearchus. ‘You’re from Crete. I know. I was born there, and I recognize your accent. You’re an Orphic.’
I frowned. ‘Is Anoramix an Orphic too? What would happen if the Gauls living here find out that your brother isn’t a real druid?’
Yovanix shook his head. ‘He is a real druid. The Gallic druids took many of the Orphic beliefs.’
‘How strange,’ said Nearchus. ‘A sect in Crete that never got off the ground becomes a powerful force elsewhere.
‘But, what is this sacrifice about?’ I asked.
‘It’s something to do with the moon’s child. I don’t really know.’
‘But, wouldn’t a nice fat sheep do just as well?’ I asked.
He shook his head. ‘No. Only humans are worthy.’
‘Great. And Anoramix not only wants to sacrifice three humans, he wants to be the most powerful druid in Gaul, right? That’s why he has the Child of the Moon. But how did he hear about him?’ I asked.
‘ Signs have been appearing all year. In the spring, three pure white fawns were born of one hind. Everyone knows that’s a direct sign from Artemis, the moon child’s guardian. Then, a rain of silver fish fell. It was a perfectly clear day, not a cloud in sight, and suddenly a cold wind bent the trees nearly to the ground, and small fish fell from the sky. They were intact, but covered in ice.’
‘Do you swear to that?’ Alexander asked, his eyes wide.
‘Alex!’ I cried. ‘There’s a perfectly logical explanation to that.’
‘Go on,’ he said, ignoring me. ‘What other signs?’
‘The moon was red for three months, after that, and then the sun disappeared at midday, swallowed by the moon. When the druids started casting the horoscope, they discovered that the moon’s child had arrived in Gaul. News came a week ago that the moon’s child was en route to Lutetia. We simply waited. The signs were clear. He will come, and then three men must be killed, and their blood used to wash the child.’
‘Holy shi …’
‘Ashley!’ Alexander clapped his hand over my mouth.
‘You don’t believe all that crap, do you?’ I was furious.
‘Well, not exactly.’ He frowned.
Nearchus gaped. ‘Frozen fish falling from the sky?’
‘It’s a natural meteorological phenomenon,’ I cried. They ignored me.
‘We have to figure out a way to save Paul, that’s all that counts right now,’ said Axiom. Luckily, he was a Jew and couldn’t care less about frozen fish.
Alexander gave a start. ‘Of course, you’re right.’ We had been sitting in the wagon, the horses stopped, while we spoke to Yovanix. Now Alexander clucked and the horses moved on. ‘How far to Anoramix’s cave?’ he asked.
‘Over the hill and through a narrow gorge. Then ford the stream and look up and to your right. His cave is in the hillside. Usually we tie the wagon to a small tree near the stream, but today, since I’m supposed to be bringing the sacrificial victims, I’m to drive all the way to the sacred grove.’
‘We’ll do just that,’ said Alexander. ‘Will Anoramix be waiting for you?’
‘Of course. Selena sent a pigeon telling him that I had news for him. He’s so excited about the goddess and the moon’s child, he’ll probably be outside waiting for us.’ His voice was glum.
‘You’ll have to drive the horses then.’
Yovanix drove with a knife pressed to his side.
Hating slavery and meaning to help him, I said, ‘If you get us out of this mess and help save Paul, we’ll buy you from Julius and set you free.’
‘Paul?’
‘The moon’s child,’ I said angrily. ‘Do you agree? Or else I'll turn you into a frog.’
‘How can I refuse?’ he cried, tears running down his face. ‘I’m so scared I pissed myself.’
‘By Poseidon, he’s right,’ said Nearchus, moving quickly backward.
‘Will you please let me handle this from now on?’ asked Alexander reasonably, pulling straw over my head and pushing me down to the wagon bed. ‘Hush. We’re approaching the stream.’
I moved to the other, drier side of the wagon and huddled in the straw. Evening was falling and visibility was poor, but Alexander had eyes like a jaguar. He peered through the straw and the dusk and murmured to Nearchus, ‘There are three men by the sacred oak: one by the left side; two around the back. One man is down by the stream. I see another man in a tree; he’s cutting mistletoe from a high branch with a small golden sickle.’
‘That’s Anoramix,’ said Yovanix between his teeth.
‘I hope he falls out of the tree,’ I said balefully.
At that moment we heard a loud crack, and the branch holding the druid fell down. The golden sickle tumbled out of the tree in a bright arc, landing on a rock with a clang. The man caught himself, and swung easily down from the tree.
‘You forgot to add, “and breaks his neck”.’ It was Axiom, awe in his voice.
‘Damn.’ I was impressed. ‘It wasn’t me. Honest.’
‘I know that,’ said Nearchus. ‘Paul must be somewhere close.’ His voice was high. I glanced at him sharply. He was making the sign against the evil eye.
‘How’s Yovanix?’ I whispered.
‘He’s fainted again, but I don
’t think anyone will notice. I’m holding him upright.’ Alexander kept his voice low. ‘I don’t see Paul, but Nearchus’s right, he must be close.’
‘How can you tell?’
‘Because two of the three men have fresh bandages on their calves.’
‘Paul can’t really make accidents happen,’ I said, getting cross now.
‘No, but Cerberus bites, remember?’ He chuckled.
Anoramix hailed the cart and came over. ‘Yovanix?’ he spoke sharply. ‘Are you all right?’ Yovanix was coming out of his faint and he groaned. Anoramix stepped closer. ‘By Persephone’s icy heart, you’re ill!’ he cried.
Yovanix opened one eye and moaned, then he leaned over and vomited on his brother, which cheered me up, and made Axiom shake with laughter. The straw rustled.
Anoramix took off his soiled robe, and tossed it on the ground. I widened my eyes. He was very young, maybe younger even than Yovanix. He didn’t look at all like his siblings. He was swarthy, with straight black hair and grey eyes. He had a bony face, a strong chin, and high cheekbones. His torso was long, with flat muscles like a wrestler’s. He had black curly hair on his legs, arms, and pubis. A line of black curls snaked up his flat belly. He stood, naked and barefoot, with snowflakes whirling around him. He didn’t seem to mind the cold. It gave me goose bumps.
‘Yovanix, where are the prisoners? Are they hidden in the straw?’
Yovanix just nodded, his lips clamped shut. Sweat shone on his forehead.
‘Drive the wagon to the cave. I will meet you there when I finish collecting the mistletoe.
We drove to the entrance of the cave. Alexander was grimly satisfied. ‘There are two men inside,’ he whispered. ‘But it’s very dark, and I may have missed someone. Be prepared, Nearchus, we have to subdue them before Anoramix gets back.’
As Yovanix stopped the wagon, the two men inside the cave wandered over. Alexander waited until they were close. Then he and Nearchus levitated out of the straw and landed on the men. The fight was over in minutes.
They quickly tied and gagged the two men and shoved them under the straw. I sneaked out of the wagon and stepped into the cave. ‘Paul?’ I called softly. ‘Cerberus?’
There was no answer. Discouraged, I sat down near the fire and watched Alexander and Nearchus. They hid behind the wagon, waiting for Anoramix. Axiom was still lying in the straw. Yovanix was leaning over, his face in his hands. He looked like he was about to faint again.
Anoramix came up the hill carrying his soiled robe and a basket of mistletoe. He peered into the wagon, nodded in satisfaction, and then said, ‘Come into the cave and give me your message.’
Anoramix was naked, unarmed, and carrying a basket of plants. Not a great weapon.
‘Who are you, and what do you want?’ he asked coldly, when we were all sitting in front of the fire. Nearchus held a knife to Anoramix’s ribs.
‘I want my son,’ I said, my voice like ice.
His head snapped around. He hadn’t even looked at me, women being beneath consideration, I guessed. ‘The goddess,’ he breathed.
‘I see you recognize me.’ I didn’t smile. ‘Where is my son?’
‘He is safe, I promise. He is in the centre of the sacred grove. The purification ceremony is for tomorrow night. When he has been washed with the blood of the three victims, then he will be stripped of his powers. I have been chosen to do this.’ Even with a knife poking his ribs he sounded confident.
‘You’re sick,’ I said.
He looked shocked. ‘I have been chosen to save the world!’ he insisted. ‘All the signs have pointed to me since I was born: the earthquake on the day of my birth, the white crow who perched on my shoulder one day, and the white hind struck by lightning underneath my sacred tree. All those portents belong to me. The moon’s child is mine now. With his power I can save our world.’
I was speechless with indignation. ‘He’s not the moon’s child, he’s my son. And no one can own him; he’s not a slave like your poor brother.’
His mouth dropped open. ‘You know he’s my brother? Did he tell you that?’
Yovanix started panicking again. ‘I didn’t! I didn’t, I swear. But she knows more; she knows about Selena. And the helmet. And she escaped from the room and disappeared! Then she flew into the wagon and bewitched me!’
I felt sorry for him, but I wasn’t about to admit to hiding in the closet yet. ‘I only want to get my son back and continue our voyage in peace.’
‘There is only one way we can let the moon’s child go,’ said Anoramix.
‘What?’
‘We must go ahead with the ceremony. When his powers have been stripped, no one will try to capture him. Otherwise, each time there is a moonlit night the world will be in danger.’
‘I refuse!’ I cried. However, Alexander reached forward and grasped my wrist. ‘I agree,’ he said in measured tones.
‘What?’ I struggled, but he was absurdly strong. His eyes bored into mine. ‘We have to agree,’ he said. ‘Will you feel safe knowing that all the Orphic druids in the world want our son? If everyone knows his powers have been shorn, they will leave him alone.’
‘No.’ Tears started leaking from my eyes. ‘How can you agree to be sacrificed?’ I was shaking, my teeth chattering.
‘I won’t be sacrificed,’ said Alexander gently.
‘Who will be?’ I whispered.
Alexander pointed his chin toward the wagon. ‘There are two already there. And the third man is in front of us.’
Yovanix jerked like a hooked fish, but his brother put a hand on his arm. ‘No,’ he said. ‘He’s speaking of me. I misread the signs.’
‘But who will take your place? We can’t leave the sacred grove without a druid!’ Yovanix protested. ‘No, take me. I will offer myself to the moon’s child and to the winter.’ He looked so noble as he said that; I felt perfectly horrible for making him suffer so much.
‘Don’t be dramatic,’ I heard myself saying. ‘Can’t you understand that human sacrifices are an abomination?’ Anoramix smiled thinly and pointed to the back of the cave. ‘Look,’ he said.
I turned and gasped. Whorls, waves, spirals, and curlicues were carved deep into the rock. However, what held my attention was a huge arched doorway. Set into the rock around the door, hundreds of skulls grinned at us.
‘May I?’ Axiom walked over to the skulls. He touched one gingerly. ‘How are they set into the stone?’ he asked. ‘It looks as if the stone melted and they were pushed into it. There is not the slightest space between bone and rock.’
‘What does it mean?’ I asked Anoramix.
‘That our gods and your gods are not the same. Our gods want human blood. Blood and bones from sacrifices have filled the earth’s belly since the beginning of time, and soon, perhaps, she will be replete. But for now, she is still hungry. If we do not satisfy her hunger, she will make us suffer.’ His voice was sad. ‘When your son was born, the world trembled. For ten years he was hidden from the moon. However, he grows, and soon he will call her down to him. I have been chosen to save the world. That is what the portents were trying to tell me. Not just any three men would do. My blood will wash away his powers.’
‘But, but …’ My hands fell to my sides. A terrible lassitude filled me. Tears pricked my eyes. ‘I don’t understand,’ I said finally.
‘But we do.’ Anoramix’s voice was gentle. ‘We have been initiated into the mysteries. Now you are here, and now the ceremony can be brought to its very end.’
‘What is the very end?’ I asked.
He looked at me, and a smile quirked the corner of his mouth. ‘Kid, I fell into the milk.’
I gaped. ‘What? Kid? What kid? What milk?’
‘The goat’s milk. It’s the last sentence in the initiation rite. You are the goddess. Tomorrow night, we will say the proper words, and I will pass into the green meadow where singing is heard and the sun is always bright. Where flowers bloom for ever, and men and women live in peace.’
‘For those who have undergone the initiation, death is a doorway into another world,’ he said. ‘We Orphics believe that Persephone has reserved a special place for those who die. We go to a glorious meadow filled with music, song, and dance.’
‘How amazing,’ I heard myself saying.
Nearchus leaned forward, his hands on his knees. ‘Have you been initiated?’
‘I have.’ Anoramix shrugged.
We all sat back and looked at each other. I was trying to come to grips with the sudden merging of the druids’ bloody sacrifices and an afterlife in paradise.
‘I still don’t understand why you have to die,’ I said finally.
‘We don’t die, really.’ Anoramix said.
Axiom saw me opening my mouth, and he shook his head at me. Alexander put his arm around my shoulders, and I leaned into him.
My eyes met Anoramix’s over the fire. His were strangely innocent. ‘Who were the men who attacked us four nights ago?’ I asked him.
He looked surprised. ‘You were attacked?’
‘Before the moon rose, we were set upon by raiders. They killed almost everyone.’ Axiom answered. His eyes were dark, and in the firelight they glittered. He looked angry for the first time that night.
Anoramix shook his head slowly. ‘I didn’t know, but it doesn’t surprise me. Any druid who hears about the moon’s child will want to capture him. What does surprise me is the bloodshed. We don’t kill unless it’s for a sacrifice. It’s against our beliefs.’ He looked outside where a sliver of a moon had started to rise, barely visible through the trees. ‘The moon has come. We can fetch your son now.’
‘But, don’t you understand that sacrificing and killing are the same?’ I asked.
‘No.’ Anoramix stood up. ‘Come, we’ll go before he catches cold.’
‘You mean he’s outside in the snow?’ I scrambled to my feet. ‘He’d better not be cold,’ I hissed, ‘or you won’t live to die tomorrow night.’
Chants to Persephone: The Future of the World Hangs on a Knife's Edge - and Only a Human Sacrifice Can Save It Page 11