Soldier of the Mist

CHAPTER XXXII-Here in Rope

Strangers viewed with the greatest suspicion. This morning Drakaina, Io, and I went to see the famous temple of Orthia. Its enclosure on the riverbank must once have been separated from the city, but now the Rope Makers have built their houses right up to the boundaries of the sacred ground. Drakaina said, "In the Empire, we wall our cities properly. When you're on one side of the wall, you're in the city; on the other, you're in the country. With all these straggling hamlets, who knows? Thought was almost as bad, but at least they had guard posts on the roads."

"The Great King tore down your walls," Io reminded her. "That's what the regent said."

Drakaina nodded. "The People from Parsa have a sense of fitness. Its walls symbolize a city, and pulling them down is the destruction of the city. Rope's been destroyed already-or let's say that it's never existed. This is just four villages; no wonder they call it scattered."

Slaves turned their faces to one side when we passed, and even the Neighbors we saw did not wish to speak with us. Rope Makers stopped us and questioned us, women as well as men, and many told us we were unwelcome. We soon learned to reply that we would gladly go elsewhere if only their regent would permit it, which silenced them quite effectively.

Drakaina shook her lovely head after one such encounter. "There's no place in the world where men are less free than they are here, and none where women are freer-save perhaps in the country of the Amazons, the women who live without men."

"Are they real?" Io asked. "Once Basias said I'd be a strategist among them."

"Of course they are." Drakaina slipped her arm through mine. "But you'll have to go far to the north and east-much farther east than my own city. And you'll have to leave Latro here with me. The Amazons don't care for foreigners any more than these Rope Makers, and they consider all men spies."

I said, "There can be no such race; they'd die out in a generation."

"They lie with the young men of the Sons of Scoloti. If they bear a girl afterward, they sear her left breast so she can use the bow. Boys buy them the favor of their goddess, or so I've heard. I admit I've never seen one of these women warriors myself."

I thought of the dream I had last night when she said that; perhaps later I will write of it here.

"There it is!" Io exclaimed, and pointed.

"About what I expected. They don't know what a real temple looks like here. Nobody could who hasn't traveled in the east, though some of these are at least beautiful. This isn't even that. In fact, if this whole city were destroyed, no one would ever guess from looking at the ruins that half the world had trembled at its name."

The temple was indeed small and very simple, its pillars mere wooden posts painted white. I took off my sword and fastened the belt around one.

Io said, "We're supposed to make an offering. See the bowl? Master, do you have any money?"

Drakaina told her, "I'll take care of it," and tossed one of the iron coins of the Rope Makers so that it rang against the bronze rim.

As we went from the brilliant sunlight of the portico into the shadowy interior, Io asked, "Where did you get that?"

"Hush!"

It was the age of the temple that impressed me most, I think, and perhaps it would be just to say that its age was the only impressive thing about it; but that made it truly a sacred place, the home built for a god when the world was young and men had not yet forgotten that when the gods are mocked they punish us by leaving us.

A priestess, white-haired but as tall as I and as straight as any spear, glided from some recess. "Welcome," she said, "to this house in the name of the Huntress, and to this land in the name of the House of Heracles."

"It's true," I admitted, "that we're all foreigners here, madame. But we've come to Rope at the order of your regent, the great Prince Pausanias, who does not permit us to leave."

Drakaina quickly added, "We have the freedom of the city, however, and I am a priestess of your goddess."

The white-haired woman made the slightest of bows. "As such, you may sacrifice here whenever you wish. No one will prevent you. Should anyone question you, tell them you have my permission. I am Gorgo, daughter of Cleomenes, mother of Pleistarchos, and widow of Leonidas."

Drakaina began, "Then the regent is-"

"My cousin and my nephew. Would you care to see the image of the goddess?" She led us to a wooden figure, cracked and blackened by time. "She is called Orthia because she was found standing upright, just where you see her now, in the days when our forefathers conquered this land."

The bulging eyes of the statue gave it the look of a madwoman. In either hand it grasped a snake.

"The wood is cypress, which is sacred to her. The snake in her right hand is the empyreal serpent, the one in her left the chthonic serpent. She holds both and stands between them, the only god who unites heaven to earth and the lower world. When she appears here, it is most often as a snake."

Io asked, "Could she help my master? He's been cursed by the Grain Goddess."

Drakaina added, "I've already offered sacrifices to our threefold goddess on his behalf. Do you remember Basias, Io? He promised to carry a message to her." She turned back to the priestess. "And Latro is much better. His memory was taken from him, and he still can't remember; but now he acts almost as though he could."

I said, "The goddess is angry."

"Why?" Gorgo's eyes were large and cool, the rare blue eyes that shine like ice.

"I don't know. But can't you see the way she looks at Drakaina?"

Io's hand flew to her mouth to stifle a shout of nervous laughter.

"No," the priestess told me softly. "I cannot see that. But you do. What has this woman done?"

"I don't know."

Even in the dimness of the temple, I could see how white Drakaina's face was. She said, "He is mad, most reverend Queen. Pasicrates and I, and the little girl, care for him."

"Pasicrates is a fine young man, and a faithful servant of the goddess."

"As I am. If I have displeased her-"

"You will be punished."

When Gorgo said that, there was a silence that stretched so long that it became unbearable. At last Io asked, "Is this where the boys get whipped?"

"Yes, child." One corner of the priestess's mouth lifted by the width of a grain of wheat. "In this city, we girls receive much the same education as the boys, but we are spared that. Here food is placed upon the altar, and the older men stand where you are standing, and on the portico outside, and as far as the sacred precinct of the temple reaches. The boys must dash past them and take the food, then dash past again; they are beaten as they run. See the stains their blood has left on our floor? Thus they learn what women already know: that without women there is no food for men. Because they are beaten that day, they can never forget. There is a statue of the goddess at Ephesos with a hundred breasts. The lesson is the same."

Pasicrates was waiting for us when we left the temple.

"My slave said you had gone out to see the sights," he told us. "This is the first most visitors want to see."

Drakaina asked, "And are there others?"

"We do not have the wealth of Tower Hill," Pasicrates conceded as he led us away, "and yet our city is not without interest. The well I am about to show you is known these days in every civilized land."

"Really?" She smiled at him; her sharply angled face gave her smiles a disturbing quality. "Is it like the one at Hysiai, that inspires all who drink to prophesy?"

"No," Pasicrates replied. He hesitated. "I was on the point of saying it isn't a magic well at all. Except that now that I think on it, it does have power, and power of a sort you might find particularly interesting. It changes men to women."

Io said, "It seems like everybody's turning against you, even the Huntress."

Drakaina looked so angry that I feared for Io, though she faced up to it as bravely as any child could.

Pasicrates said, "What's this? Tell me, little girl."

"Latro says the goddess is mad at her. Sometimes Latro sees things other people don't. Sometimes he sees the gods; and talks to them, too."

"How interesting. I should have asked you more about him when we met. Foolishly, I wasted my time with one Eurykles. Latro, what did you see?"

"Only that she gave Drakaina a look of fury, just as Drakaina looked at Io a moment ago."

"And it's Orthia who sends sudden death to women. What a pity you're not a man, Drakaina. Is that your true name, by the way?"

She feigned not to hear him.

"She is also the protector of young beasts and of children," Pasicrates told Io. "Did you know that? Our boys pray to her before they are beaten, and dedicate the end of their childhood to her. Yet she favors girls more. It goes ill with anyone who harms a girl here, unless he is high in her favor."

I said, "It will go ill with anyone who hurts Io, while I live."

Pasicrates nodded. "You might well be the instrument of her justice. So might I."

We had been strolling through the city as we talked; when nothing more was said for a time, I ventured to ask about the houses, saying it seemed strange to me to see so many windows in a city of his people.

"Ah, but you've been in Thought, even if you don't remember it. There they think about being robbed. We don't. We're too poor, and there's little here to buy." He smiled. "But here's the well. Look down. You'll find it worth seeing."

Io dashed ahead and pulled herself up by the coping to peer into the depths. "Skeletons!" she called.

When Pasicrates arrived he seated himself on it beside her. "Are bones all you see, little Io? Surely there is something more."

"Just mud and water."

"Yes, earth and water. You see, I am a knowledgeable guide. I brought you here at noon, when the sun shines far enough down for you to see the bottom. It's not a very deep well. Perhaps that's why it went dry, or nearly dry. Drakaina, don't you want to look?"

I peered inside. As Pasicrates had indicated, the sun reached more than halfway to the bottom and lent light enough to show the rest. Three black-bearded men were penned there. They had heavy gold bracelets on their arms, and their golden sword hilts were set with many gems. One gripped his wrist, his face twisted in agony; one covered his face with his hands; one wept, face upturned, and extended his hands to me.

Pasicrates said, "The Great King sent his ambassadors here, demanding earth and water in token of our submission. They were bold men when they came, but frightened women when we threw them in to get them for themselves. You should have heard them scream. Drakaina, I think you'd better look. I won't push you." He slid from the coping and strode away.

Io said softly, "I thought he liked the Great King."

"He's jealous," Drakaina snapped. "The regent prefers me. Latro will find that understandable, though perhaps you won't. When we went into the temple, you asked where I got the coin I offered. Prince Pausanias gave it to me, as he's given me other things. Do you like this gown?" Her hand caressed the crimson fabric. "It's moth's spinning, brought from the end of the earth; once it belonged to a noble lady of Susa."

"It's beautiful," Io said with honest admiration. "But now that you're speaking to me again, will you tell me how you explained to the regent? You were a man the first time he saw you, and you're a woman now, and he's not like Latro."

"I told him the truth-that the goddess had given me my desire. It hasn't reduced his esteem for me, believe me."

"Watch out," Io said. "She's liable to take it back."

Drakaina shook her head, and it seemed to me that she was hearing someone other than Io. "I feel I've lived a long, long time," she said. "And that I've been what I am since the first stars took shape."

Afterward we idled about the city; but nothing more was said that I think worth recounting, save that Drakaina remarked that I had given her a slave some time ago. When I asked what had become of him, she said he was dead.

We watched naked women run and throw the discus, which Io thought disgusting, and saw the barracks where the Rope Makers sleep. After that we returned to this hill fortress in the center of the city, stopping for a time to watch slaves at work upon the tomb of Leonidas. This was in the village called Pitana, which stands close beside the hill. I do not know what the name may mean. Perhaps "legion." A least Io says there is a mora of that name in the regent's army.

Here in the fortress I write as I do, catching the fading light of the sun as it shines through the embrasure. Drakaina has just come to say this day will be our last in Rope.