The Sullen Face of a Forgotten God

CHAPTER FIVE

It was night and the moon was high and nearly full. The Temple had maintained its quiet slumber for a while now and Miriam felt it was finally safe. She tiptoed very quietly out of the novices' quarters and walked towards the scrying room. She had spent the remainder of the day being cared for by the nurse, Ariadne, even though she kept telling her she was absolutely fine but Deianera had given her specific orders to watch the girl. The constant vigil had been tiresome and it was only now that she was finally able to leave her bed.
The moonlight cast an eerie glow through the windows of the Temple bathing everything in an almost blinding light. Even daylight could not be as bright as this. Miriam had to squint to see and then slowly tiptoed down the corridor that led to the scrying room. Thoughts were whirling through her head. She needed to be able to see the future but she was not going to see the future but she was not going to take another risk with the brew. What if somebody woke and found her unconscious in the scrying room? Maybe it was true, maybe somebody was trying to take her life and she could not afford to make herself that vulnerable. She needed to know who it was and what they intended to do. But she what she needed to know most of all, was why. Perhaps the scrying bowl would help.
In previous scrying sessions, Antigone had often talked about blood letting, which was supposed to release a form of spiritual power within a certain space, which often allowed a priest or a priestess to experience far clearer visions. Usually, this resulted in the sacrifice of an animal, which Deianera had forbidden with disgust, deeming it unnecessarily cruel and abhorrent. Miriam privately agreed but tonight there was to be a blood letting of sorts if the release of such powers were to be administered. However, no animal would die this time. This time Miriam was to use her own blood to help her vision.
Upon entering the room she scurried over to the scrying book which Antigone often used during sessions but which was forbidden for everybody else to touch. However, what nobody else knew, apart from Penelope, was that the two girls had often sneaked the book out at night and had practically memorized most of the pages. It seemed ridiculous that Antigone should have all the knowledge. What was she teaching them after all?
Miriam flipped through the pages until she found what she was looking for. The Incantation of Things to Come, written by the Priestess Cassandra centuries ago. This was, of course, not the same Priestess Cassandra, the doomed Trojan princess who had served Apollo in the fair city of Troy before it fell to the Achaeans before Miriam was born. This Cassandra was older still – faithful to Pallas Athene, there were many claims that she herself was a descendant of the Divine One. Long ago, when the gods still walked the earth before ascending to the skies, Cassandra had been chosen by the goddess to act as scribe and teacher to the city of Athens, spreading her knowledge and wisdom to all who thirsted for such things. Miriam wasn't sure how true the legend was but it was a nice story. She remembered listening to it awestruck as Deianera would tell it to her as a little girl.
The incantation was written in a code of sorts – to keep non-believers out – so it took her a few minutes to decipher the code and comfortably read the text. She then prepared the scrying bowl by filling it with water and removing the knife she had hidden in her tunic. Rolling up her sleeve, she winced as she trailed the knife down her arm, giving her a quick thrill. The sensation made her shiver. It was harder than she thought. Oh, for goodness sake, girl, just get it over with, she thought impatiently and plunged the knife into her arm, cutting through the skin and watching the bright red blood emerge from the cut. She hoped she hadn't cut herself too deeply because if she did, then she would faint and what good would that do? She carefully placed the blood tipped knife on the floor, hoping it wouldn't smear on the floor. She would have to clean everything up and make sure things were in their proper place before returning to bed. She stared into the bowl seeing her own reflection and closed her eyes to begin the incantation:
" O Pallas Athene, Giver of Life
Blessed is She who saves us from strife
Thou art noble and thou art fair
Cursed are those who try to dare
To bathe in Sin, to question your powers.
Show me, O Lady upon this hour
The vision that foretells of things to come.
In this, O Lady, we become as one
The servant and Lady, united together
The servant who has reached the end of her tether
I beseech you, I pray to know what is to be
I implore you to show what is to happen to me!"
First, nothing. She stared into the water, still seeing nothing but her own reflection, then everything appeared to happen at once. Shadows appeared on the surface of the water and then a hooded figure emerged from some dark place, holding a knife aloft and she heard a woman's scream but she wasn't sure if it was her or somebody else. She saw faces such as Deianera's, who spoke the words: " I will guard the child's life with my own." Then Antigone seemed to appear and for some strange reason, Polyxena as well. Then an old woman she'd never met before, dressed as a gypsy, stood in some crowded market place holding out her hand and smiling. Then many other jumbled visions emerged
and suddenly, the vision disappeared.
Miriam stared at the bowl, perplexed. She wanted to throw the bowl against the wall, maybe curse a little, even though she didn't. This was taken from the incantation of the divine Priestess Cassandra?
Perhaps she did get everything wrong. A silly fortune teller in the market place could have conjured up something better than this!
"Don't be so hard on yourself," a mocking voice intoned from a corner of the room. "I'm sure a fortune teller could do better than that!"
Miriam jumped a mile to find Cronos standing, with his arms folded across his chest, leaning against a wall. She glared at him as if it were all his fault. For all she knew, it probably was.
"Only women are allowed in the divine quarters," she snapped.
"Only that Antigone woman is allowed to touch that precious book and yet there you are, getting your disgusting little mortal hands all over it." Cronos sneered.
A noise sounded in the corridor and then slowly, but surely, footsteps. It was more than one pair as well. "Come my little one," Cronos held out his hand. "Don't allow yourself to be caught!"
Miriam couldn't argue. She saw Cronos snap his fingers and the room was re-arranged to the way it was before she entered. Even the cut on her arm had vanished. She took his arm and he was going to take her to her room but she held fast. "No I want to know who it is!" Cronos nodded and led her into a shadowy corner, just before two figures emerged.
It was Antigone and Polyxena. What did they want? Perhaps they heard the sounds she'd made.
Antigone looked around her and began speaking to Polyxena in a low voice. "Deianera is not the fool I though she was. She became very suspicious today."
"If you are planning to kill the brat," Polyxena snapped. "You could try being a little more subtle about it. By all the gods, woman, why not just make a human sacrifice to the great scorpion and get it over with?"
"This is a delicate matter," Antigone countered. "We must not move as freely as we think. Especially me. Deianera will be watching me like a hawk!"
"But not me," Polyxena said thoughtfully. "Deianera trusts me."
Miriam stared as Antigone looked at Polyxena thoughtfully. "Yes she does," she said softly. Miriam turned and looked at Cronos, panic stricken. "Get me out of here!" she gasped.
Cronos had been smiling until this point until he saw the look on Miriam's face. "It appears you have enemies, little one. Let us go to your room," he said softly and the room faded from view. The next thing she knew they were back in their quarters. Miriam sat down on her bed. "What is happening?" she wanted to know.
"There are those who want you removed," Cronos said "Permanently. Perhaps they fear you. Your gift is developing rapidly."
"All I have is these useless visions," Miriam snapped. "I am not the only novice who has visions and it's not like I have any other power that can hurt people. I am not some evil monster. I am just a girl. It doesn't make any sense!"
Cronos stared at her, had been staring at her the whole time she had been speaking. She had begun feeling uncomfortable with his intense look, until he finally spoke:
"You are not aware of the powers you have, Miriam. Those powers have lain dormant in you for so long and it is only now, as you become a woman that they are starting to manifest themselves. You have had those powers through your many lives, since the dawn of time and they seem to be getting stronger with each passing mortal existence your soul experiences. You have great potential – as a sorceress, a healer, a great oracle – all those powers are inside you. When you were Queen Selena of Mesopotamia, you were able to kill men with a glance. You knew of the danger that was to befall your kingdom but unfortunately, you husband the King, had turned against you. He called you a demon woman many times as a result of certain men – jealous men – who called themselves wizards. These old fools had no powers of their own and feared you, despised you. They didn't think it was natural that a mortal – and a woman, at that – should be privy to such powers. In fact, if your kingdom hadn't been destroyed, your husband would have had you executed on some trumped up charge. He would have accused you of consorting with dark forces. You would have died, surely. It was better that you died by your own hand, as opposed to being killed like some common criminal."
"Why not just let me die now?" Miriam asked. She felt shaken, thinking I killed people without touching them?
"Your fate in that other life was sealed. You were too proud to be taken a prisoner and made into a slave. That life was over. When a soul decides to exit its body – when it has truly decided – nothing will make it go back."
"And what about this life?" Miriam demanded. "I don't want to die, Cronos. Not because a pair of crazy women want me dead!"
Cronos looked at her thoughtfully. "No. It would not make any sense for the immortals to send you back unless they had some great plan in mind. Especially with your powers being as strong as ever. I don't believe they will harm you tonight and if they do try, I will be here to stop them. I will make sure nothing happens to you, but you have to trust me. I will make sure nothing happens to you."
Miriam nodded her head, sadly. "I trust you," she said sadly, thinking I gave myself to him, what choice do I have?
Cronos nodded his head. "I have something to show you but it will wait. You are not ready. Sleep now." And with that he vanished.
Miriam stood staring at the spot he had been standing in just minutes before and then climbed into bed, pulling the covers up to her chin. She was exhausted but didn't think she could sleep. However, she did, falling into a heavy slumber without dreams.
Miriam spent the next few days, restlessly pacing the grounds of the Temple between chores and perplexing her friend Penelope. "What is wrong?" Penelope would ask but Miriam wouldn't answer. She knew she was upsetting her friend but she needed to think about what she had to do. Then, Deianera approached her asking if she wouldn't mind going to the market place to buy some supplies. Miriam thought to herself, remembering the vision she had had of the old woman, the gypsy, who had been smiling at her. Now was the time to see if she really existed and wasn't just a figment of Miriam's imagination. She asked Penelope to go with her. She felt she needed all the help she could get.
When the two girls set off the very next day, Miriam couldn't help but notice Antigone and Polyxena walking together in the temple grounds as they left, deep in conversation. Conspiring together, perhaps? Conspiring to get rid of her? What new plot could they possibly come up with? It was frustrating waiting and wondering what they would do next. Miriam had wanted to approach Deianera many times but something always held her back. For some reason, it just didn't feel right speaking to Deianera about this. Not just yet, anyway.
"What are you thinking about?" Penelope demanded, startling her. "You're always thinking and never talking. What's up with you, Miriam?"
Miriam shrugged. "I just have a lot on my mind, that's all," Miriam shrugged. "Haven't you ever felt that way as well. Just thinking about things?"
Penelope shrugged her shoulders. "I guess we all do at some point, you just seem to be doing an awful lot of it lately." She suddenly tugged Miriam's arm. "Oh look, the market place!" she exclaimed, the first real note of pleasure entering her voice. Miriam had to smile too. The market place was full of life, of talking merchants and crying children, of stalls displaying all sorts of goods, from the local to the exotic. After the relative quiet of the Temple, it was full of life. She should relax and enjoy this trip and stop worrying about the old gypsy woman. It was rare that she got to go anywhere.
Penelope looked around her and smiled. "I know it may be blasphemous to say such things, but this has to be as close to Mount Olympus as possible. The gods themselves couldn't enjoy themselves as much as I do when we come here. It can be so dull in the Temple sometimes!"
Miriam looked at her in surprise. Penelope had always been such a dedicated novice, who never questioned anything. For Penelope to admit to boredom was out of character.
"I didn't realize you felt that way," Miriam said candidly.
Penelope looked back at her. "Felt what way?" she asked but they were both interrupted by the sight of an old gypsy woman who sauntered past them. Miriam's heart began to race. No, it can't be, she thought to herself but it was. The woman from her vision!
Penelope sneered. "Gypsies," she said. "Surely the gods were laughing when they created such loathsome creatures."
Miriam glared at her. Nobody except Deianera knew that gypsies were the ones who had rescued her from her ransacked village. Now, seeing the look of utter revulsion on her friend's face, she could understand why Deianera chose to keep it a secret. If it wasn't gypsies, I'd have died long ago, she thought and shuddered. A sensation came over her and she decided she wanted to speak to this woman and find out if she was the one she'd seen in her vision. If she was, maybe she could help her, somehow. "I'm going to talk to her," she said boldly and ignoring the shocked look on her friend's face, she walked right up to the gypsy woman and introduced herself.  The woman glared back at her. She had two giant gold hoops in her ears and a particularly ugly wart on her nose. A sneer curled her lip. "I suppose you're going to want me to tell your fortune," she snapped and without another word, turned and stormed into a brightly colored tent sitting right behind her. Miriam felt she had no choice but to follow her. She turned and looked back at Penelope who had wandered over to another stall, where brightly colored baubles were being sold. She looked at Miriam with an expression that could only mean she clearly didn't approve of the meeting. Miriam didn't care. She followed the woman into the tent, which was dark except for two candles which sat on a rickety looking table, surrounded by chairs. The whole place had the particularly nauseating smell of incense and cheap stuff at that, certainly not what would be used at the Temple. Miriam felt an alien sense of being. She felt like a foreigner cast adrift in a sea of strangers and the worst thing was she wanted to leave. But how odd. There was a part of her that wanted to stay as well. Something about the odd atmosphere only continually aroused her curiosity.
"Well?" the gypsy demanded. "Why are you here? What do you want?"
Miriam tried to ignore the woman's rudeness. "I'm here...." She began but was interrupted.
A youth stumbled into the tent. Literally stumbled, as he almost fell on top of Miriam, knocking her off her chair. As she tried to stand up, so did he and somehow, the two ended up banging their heads together.
"Oh for goodness sake," snapped the old woman. "Pericles, what in the name of every fucking deity are you doing here? You're supposed to be watching the goat!"
"The goat's fine," Pericles grinned, still rubbing his head. "And who might you be?" he asked Miriam. Without another word, he took Miriam's hand and delivered to it a particularly sloppy kiss. Miriam felt the urge to rub her hand over her tunic but decided it would be bad manners to do so.
"I was about to tell this young lady's fortune," the woman continued. "It's rude of you to interrupt. Please go away. Right now!"
"Perhaps this a bad time," Miriam said uncertainly. "Perhaps I should go."
"No, no, NO!" the old woman screeched and grabbed Miriam's arm, almost ripping it out of the socket.
Miriam turned to stare at her. One moment before, the old woman seemed to find her an utter nuisance and now didn't want her to go. She felt her heart start to race. "I really should be going," she repeated and somehow was able to make her escape. She ran out of the tent and into Penelope, almost knocking her over. "Let's go," she hissed and grabbing her arm, moved her towards the other stalls.
"How was your adventure with the fortune teller?" Penelope asked.
Miriam shrugged. "I do believe that woman was mad," she said, shaking her head.
Penelope laughed. "All gypsies are," she giggled. "It's because they're all inbred, you know."
As the two girls walked away, Pericles and Madame Yushfut, as the old woman was called, watched them, peering through the tent's flap. Madame Yushfut turned and slapped Pericles' head. "You fool!" she snapped. "There was something about that girl, I could feel it. You had to driver her away!"
Pericles glared at her and rubbed his head for the second time that day. "She was very pretty, that's for sure!"
"Not that!" Madame Yushfut snapped. "I sense something evil. Not her, but an evil presence surrounding her. I just can't put my finger on it."
Pericles shrugged. "Everything will work out, surely. Won't it Aunty?" He turned at looked at the old woman questioningly.
Madame Yushfut shrugged. "I don't know," she whispered.