The Sullen Face of a Forgotten God

CHAPTER FOUR

A few days later, she was at the altar, making an offering of incense to Pallas Athena, when Deianera approached her. The two looked at each other, knowingly, and walked out into the temple gardens together.
"You have been quiet these last few days," Deianera began. "No more visions? What about those soldiers?"
"Someone assured me," Miriam began carefully. "That all will be well."
Deianera looked at her questioningly.
" I cannot say anything more," Miriam said. She looked down at the ground. "Remember when you told me the story of a kingdom by the sea where a new king was placed upon the throne at the beginning of each harvest moon and the old one died? Those people worshipped the Great Mother and she assured her people that was the way things should be. However, the tides turned and a consort for the Great Mother was made a deity and then certain people began to worship HIM. The kingdom was destroyed because some people could not accept change and felt they were being left out. They left in disgust and scattered to other cities. And I asked you why that was so and you said perhaps that time itself decreed that the people needed a change as it was necessary for their own growth and they themselves did not know it. And I didn't understand. But now I think I do."
Deianera stared at her. "You've experienced a change?" she asked.
Miriam nodded and stared at the wildflowers. "Yes," she began softly. "I don't know if it was what I really wanted but it was necessary for my growth."
Deianera smiled uncomfortably. "Now I'm not sure I understand," she stated.
An image of Cronos came to Miriam's mind and she smiled. "It is alright," she said, calmly. "All in good time."

Miriam woke up and stared out the open window. It was mid summer and well past dawn. Why had she slept so late? She struggled out of bed and quickly dressed. She had to tend to feeding the animals and then there was the scrying session with the other novices. She quickly finished dressing and raced towards the altar room, where the holy snakes were kept.
"Miriam, where have you been?" a voice demanded behind her. She started and turned to face Deianera.
" I...I overslept," Miriam stammered. "I'm sorry..."
"Be sure it doesn't happen again," Deianera said sternly, but there was a twinkle in her eye. Miriam nodded and hurried along, her thoughts racing.
Arriving at the altar room, she busied herself with the early morning preparations. She poured warm goats' milk, sweetened with honey into several bowls and placed them in front of the holy snakes, watching as each reptile uncurled itself from its sleeping position and began to gently lap at its drink. She fell into her thoughts, almost falling asleep, as her thoughts wandered to her dreams from last night. That was what had distracted her. Her dreams. She had dreamt of Cronos.
She had not communicated with Cronos for many moons, not since that fateful evening when she had given herself to him. She had no choice in the matter either. Athens would have been destroyed otherwise.
But it wasn't just Cronos she had dreamt of. From what she remembered Cronos had been showing her something in the dream. A scene from a life that was not her own. Or was it? Perhaps it was. It got so confusing sometimes. Trying to understand what was real and what wasn't. There had been a woman in her dream, of noble birth, a queen perhaps, who had to make terrible decisions surrounding her future and not just hers but her husband's, her children's. Was she planning to take her own life? Was that it? Or had there been something else that provoked her; that made her think about the future in a totally different manner? What did it all mean?
"Miriam!" she heard her name and jumped a mile. Turning, she found herself staring into the face of the old priestess Polyxena, who was glaring at her.
"What are you doing sleeping at this hour!" she snapped. "You are missing the scrying session with the other novices!"
Miriam realized that she had actually started to drift off as she'd been feeding the reptiles. She went to clean up but Polyxena angrily interrupted her. "Go you useless girl, go. I'll clean up this mess that you've made." She practically pushed Miriam out the door.
Miriam angrily ran towards the outer chambers of the temple cursing Polyxena under her breath. She realized she was not entirely alert and should never have drifted off to sleep but she was only human and didn't that old bag of bones ever make a mistake?
She arrived in the room to find the other novices had already filled their bowls with water and were preparing themselves for the intense hour that lay ahead, which would include many hallucinations.
She quickly grabbed a bowl and filled it with water from the giant urn that stood in the corner of the room, before taking her place beside Penelope, one of her friends.
"Have I missed much?" she whispered to her.
"Miriam, please don't speak during this time unless spoken to by me or I will ask you to leave," snapped Antigone, the Priestess of the Oracle. "It is enough that you are late and I hope it doesn't happen again."
Miriam bowed her head, ashamed. This was the third person she had upset in less than an hour!
The novices prepared themselves. Penelope gave Miriam a comforting smile as they sat down side by side. They formed a circle around Antigone, who had already hooded herself in the special robe that was used for such ceremonies, one that had been blessed by Pallas Athene herself, legend had it, with the sacred olive oil she held so dear. Her face was hidden from view.
"Girls, I command you to drink the herbal infusion that is beside your bowls now," Antigone commanded firmly.
Miriam looked to the left of her bowl to find the now usual small vial which always seemed to magically appear at this point. It was one of the great mysteries of the Temple. How did it get there? Was it magic? Perhaps. Antigone certainly encouraged the idea, considering her great love of theatre and illusion.
Miriam did as she was told, and along with the other novices swallowed the bitter tasting brew. Nobody knew what ingredients went into making it and Miriam always wondered why it had to be as bitter as it was.
"Close your eyes and drift," Antigone's voice intoned and it took on the now eerily familiar otherworldly sound of one who speaks from a tomb.
Miriam closed her eyes and felt her breath come in short sharp gasps, which was partly the nature of the brew and partly the nature of the supernatural powers that were taking hold of the girls. Her heart thundered like a drum and she felt her blood course through her veins, as if a force of nature was washing right through her. Sometimes the girls would faint, such was the extremity of the images they saw, sometimes they would break out into a cold sweat, that would leave their bodies weak with exhaustion. There had only been one recorded death during the flight to the shadows, when one girl's heart could not cope with the extremities of such physical and mental ecstasies and agonies but such was the price that was paid, Antigone always told them. One had to be prepared for death as an eventuality just like anything else in life. A talent such as theirs should never be allowed to remain dormant or it would drive them mad. Death was better than madness.
Miriam saw the shadows disperse and then a scene appeared before her eyes. She was standing in an ornate looking palace with marble inlaid floors and a large balcony, which looked out to sea. It was a throne room, she realized. A gold throne encrusted with jewels stood in the centre and on it sat a woman, her eyes as black as charcoal and outlined in the fashion of the East, her slightly oriental face reflecting the races of many. Her skin was the colour of copper and on her bare arms she wore gold bracelets which made their own music each time she moved them. She wore a simple tunic in the Greek fashion but the rest of her was decidedly foreign. Her jet-black hair hung to her shoulders, completely straight. She was the most beautiful woman that Miriam had ever seen in her short life.
She knew of course that she couldn't be seen or heard by the woman but she still wanted her attention. Seeing the look in the woman's eyes – the sadness reflected there – she realized with a shock of recognition that this was the woman from her dream! So it hadn't been a dream after all but a vision? Was it the past, the present or the future? Miriam didn't know.
She remembered Antigone's words. "You are an observer, you can't change what is happening. The feeling of helplessness can be very frustrating but you must learn to bear it as part of the burden of your gift."
A man entered the throne room, dressed in a toga of sorts and leather sandals on his feet. A sword hung at his side, though it looked as if it hadn't been used in a while. It looked rusty like the man himself. What was the most startling, however, was the look in the man's eyes, the utter weariness that seemed to go well with the woman's sadness.
"News of my son, Charlinion?" the woman asked, almost hopefully. Charlinion bowed low before the woman and made his speech. "The illness took him and he is with the gods now," he said sadly. The woman bowed her head and wept.
The man called Charlinion waited respectfully until she had finished weeping before asking her, "Shall I do what we had discussed?" He sounded uncomfortable.
The woman slowly lifted her head and looked at him. "Yes, we must do everything exactly as we said. I must join my son in the spirit world; he will perish there on his own. We must move quickly. You have made plans for yourself?"
You Charlinion nodded. "Yes.... I have always tried hard to serve you well, my queen."
"That you have done," she smiled at him. "I will remember you in the other place. Farewell, my friend."
They looked at each other for a long moment and then Charlinion turned and left the woman – the queen – on her own.
The woman sat at her throne for a long time, many emotions playing on her face. Miriam sensed her sorrow and longed to say some words of comfort but knew that it was useless. She waited for what would happen next, a dread feeling coming over her.
The queen's final act came soon enough. She stood up, removed a dagger she had hanging at her waist – Miriam only noticed it now, its sheath shining with innumerable jewels. She winced as she drove the dagger into her heart and then her breath coming in short shallow gasps, she lay down and closed her eyes. Soon enough, the breathing stopped and she lay still as if she were asleep. One would think she was if it weren't for the dagger which still stood in her chest, as if a witness.
The vision disappeared and Miriam found Cronos standing there, quite unexpectedly. The shock of seeing him there so suddenly made her gasp and she had to sit down very quickly. Immediately, he was by her side helping her up and she angrily shook him off.
"Where are we? What are you doing here? Are you responsible for that vision?"
He looked surprised. "Of course not. You are the one with the gift. You know it. You've always known it."
"Do you know who that woman was?" Miriam demanded. "What was the point of showing me such a thing if I couldn't help her? Did it happen in the past or is it yet to happen?"
Cronos smiled. "I've forgotten that mortals do not have memories of past lives. You see, Miriam, that vision you saw was your past life. That woman was you. Soon afterwards – I don't know how many earth years it took, but it was not long in the land of the spirits – you returned to this world in the body you have now."
Miriam could only look at him. "She was me? But what happened to her? To me? I...."
Cronos waited patiently for her to finish before continuing. "You were Queen Selena in the kingdom of Mesopotamia. There had been a great war when a horde of soldiers...." Here he paused. He means to be ironic, Miriam though bitterly. He then continued. "Let us say these soldiers destroyed your kingdom, made slaves of your people and killed your husband, the King. Your son was wounded in battle and died in great pain, as you may have gathered in the vision. You felt you had no other choice but to follow them to the land of the spirits. It was the duty of a good queen you see. Shortly afterwards, you were separated from your loved ones in the land of the spirits and returned to this mortal life." He paused again.
"Why show me this now?" Miriam snapped.
Cronos smiled at her. "I may have my reasons. I may not." He looked around, suddenly. " I must go. You'll know where to find me, of course." And with that, Miriam woke up.
She was no longer in the scrying room with the other novices. She was lying in her own bed as women scurried around her. One was the nurse, Ariadne, who quickly disappeared from the room when she saw Miriam had woken. Now that she was more alert, Miriam noticed that the other women in the room were Antigone, Deianera and her friend Penelope.
"What happened?" she asked wearily.
"You fainted during the scrying session," Deianera said grimly. She glared at Antigone. "You nearly died."
"It was as if you had entered the sleep of death," Penelope said sadly, and it looked as if she had been crying. Her lower lip trembled.
Miriam touched her hand. "I'm alright now." She smiled. Penelope smiled back.
"You need to rest Miriam," Deianera said firmly. "We will leave you now." She gave the other two a look and they followed her out of the room.
Miriam stared at the ceiling and heaved a huge sigh. She tried to make sense of what she had just seen but couldn't. She knew she couldn't just dismiss it was a dream. But Cronos was an immortal. Who in the name of all the gods could trust an immortal? Mortals such as she were nothing more than playthings to them. She supposed if you were stuck living forever, you had to have some amusement to pass the time.
She thought this time of Queen Selena. Miriam felt the woman's sadness wash through her again. It was as if nothing in the entire world could have prepared for that moment of utter conviction, of knowing that the only fair and right choice was to die. What a decision to make! Was it really a courageous act? She couldn't imagine making that decision herself, and yet she had obviously done so in this previous incarnation. Miriam frowned. Perhaps she may have been courageous as Selena but as Miriam, she was nothing more than a "useless girl", as that old goat Polyxena had described her earlier. Why had Cronos chosen her? She wasn't sure she could ever understand anything.
She suddenly heard shouting on the hallway. Even though the door to her room had been closed as the women had left, she heard the voices loud and clear.
"How dare you put a novice in such danger!" she heard Deianera shout.
"The girl is alright now," she heard Antigone splutter. "You see, a little bed rest and it will be as if nothing had happened."
"You are too arrogant, Antigone!" snapped Deianera. "What was in that brew you gave her?"
"All the girls drank the same elixir!" Antigone snapped. "All of them and nothing happened to the others! Perhaps her heart just couldn't cope...."
"Or maybe," Deianera's voice dropped to a deathly whisper. "Maybe Miriam's brew was made a little stronger than the others?"
"What are you saying?" Antigone gasped. "What are you accusing me of?"
"I accuse nobody," Deianera said, softer still. Her voice had the unmistakable hiss of a snake. "But I know you've never liked the girl and maybe you wanted to be rid of her?"
Antigone snarled. "How dare you!"
" I am the Head Priestess and I do as I please," Deianera spoke softly. "Make no mistake, Antigone, I will be watching you very carefully. Remember that you answer to me and I can have you thrown out of this Temple at any time I choose." With that, Miriam heard footsteps, which sounded as if one of them was walking away. Then she heard another set of footsteps as the second person also left. She felt her legs shake and she walked softly back to her bed.
Deianera was accusing Antigone of attempted murder! She couldn't understand it. But why? She had always sensed that Antigone had never particularly liked her but she hadn't really cared. Until now. The sharp trill of a bird interrupted her thoughts and she watched it singing a song, as if mesmerized, before it flew away. If only Miriam had the power to fly away. She had to find out more. But how?
Suddenly, she felt as if the Temple held many secret shadows. Shadows of people she didn't like or trust. Perhaps it was time to take destiny into her own hands.