God Was Busy

Chapter 5

Everyone was alerted at once when they saw our chariots, I was taken into custody at once. I don't mean I was handcuffed or anything, but a group of Vigils marched me through the front door of the agora. Maybe someone has tried to escape in the past. Once inside, I was conducted to the huge, claustrophobic area. The square was quite large, but not half of what was reserved for the Gods and their people. and I was made to stand in front of a grim-faced man.

I was a cow, tethered and waiting to be sacrificed—I made myself go back to Macedonia where I spent my childhood. When I was happy and lived like a princess with my parents before any evil eye touched our small heaven of a house, I smiled and waited on my cue.

It took them a while and a lot of staring till it was finally my turn to talk to the prefect sitting in front with two men standing on each side, he said out loud what everyone else was thinking.

"What is a woman doing here?"

"She is the sole survivor of the family and took the loan," the leather-faced vigil said.

What a disappointment I must have been: a skinny little thing, all hair and eyes and scarcely any muscle insight. Poor man. He could not even decide what to do with me.

"She is of no use to us. Take her to master Hermes in the palace he might know what to do with her," he said dismissively and I could see the smile on my face is annoying him more than my physique.

The Vigiles turned around without a word. And my pale-skinned, thin body made me happy for the first time. from what I had heard work in the palace was easier than at construction sites and that made me feel the first glimpse of luck in this luckless life.

Now I led the vigils to the chariots, without making any eye contact and looking straight ahead afraid they would call us back.

All I could see in the encroached forest was a twisted, serpent-like, road in the middle of the ancient trees. The gloom of the forest didn't relent, the vast branches swept the entire place. Driving in unison, three chariots felt as if a hawk must feel flying on the curved road, only I was the prey in the claws of the hawk, then we reached two high iron gates beside a lodge, open wide by two soldiers, we crossed and moved to the long drive beyond.

The length of the road began to play with my nerves; it must be this turn, I thought, or round that further bend; but as I stood straight in the chariot, I was disappointed, there was no house, no field, no broad and no gardens, nothing but the silence and deep woods. The lodge gates were long behind us, the sea played with my nerves too, appearing and disappearing every now and then. I thought it was lost, but it would appear again.

and then, after a few miles, in the dark drive ahead, there was some thinning of the woods, and a patch of sky, the dark trees thinned, the nameless shrubs disappeared, and on either side of us was a wall of color, blood-red and tall. It looked like a meadow or it was actually a garden.

There was something bewildering, about the suddenness of their discovery, even shocking. The woods had not prepared me for such a luscious and fantastic garden. Their beauty startled me; unlike any rhododendron plant, I had seen before. I glanced at the vigil standing next to me, his face was serious.

In the middle of that chaos, grey stone-like structures shone peacefully in the sunlight, like a jewel in the hollow of a hand. the monstrous pillars that connected the earth with the heavens, covered with art, the perfect symmetry of the walls that time could not wreck. painted a soft, faded white. rectangular, well-proportioned, and mesmerizing.

The exquisite exterior of the palace reminded me it was part of heaven but the crimson faces of rhododendron, massed one upon the other in incredible profusion, with no leaf, no twig, nothing but the slaughterous red, reminded me it was the very hell created by the blood of the people like me.

As we stopped in the deep shade of the gate. I saw faces peering through the dark windows from inside, I shrank in the chariot, my heart beating quickly.

The palace was the richest place I have ever seen but what I remember most—apart from the awful, straining, wide-eyed terror of the first few hours—was the curious mixture of riches and elegance.

Once inside the gate, the vigils let me walk on what I assume was the backside of the palace, Horses whickered from the stables on our right.

Our feet rang on the flagged stones, echoing to the ceiling, and I felt guilty at the sound, as must feel in a parade, Or a funeral procession. self-conscious, aware of the same constraint, my old nervousness returned.

We crossed the courtyard and walked quickly along a passage that led us into the room. where I was simply abandoned. Shaking with cold and shock, I stood next to the soft, silky curtains. After a while, I noticed my hands were touching a woolen coverlet and I forced myself to examine it. The weaving was very fine, an intricate pattern of leaves and flowers, obvious years-long dedication of a hard worker, I couldn't help running my fingers over them repeatedly. It helps to calm me as I tried to prepare for my verdict.

A smell of food cooking crept into the room. My stomach heaved in my half-dreaming state, I tasted bile and forced myself to swallow and take a succession of deep, steady breaths. My eyes were watering, my throat raw. Deep breaths. In, out, in, out. deep, deep breaths...

After a few minutes, I noticed a sound. Not a new sound—I'd been aware of it since my arrival. someone's breathing, or a sleeping dragon perhaps—but then I thought, No, it's the sea. Had to be—we were near the shore. I mindfully listened and let it soothe me, that ceaseless ebb and flow, the crash of the breaking waves. The feeling was like lying on the chest of somebody who loves you, somebody you know you can trust—through the sea loves nobody and can never be trusted. I felt a new desire, to be part of it, to dissolve in the sea that feels nothing and can never hurt.

I heard lazy footsteps and then the door latch began to lift. Dry-mouthed, I waited.