As usual, I was fanning the fire, trying to be invisible, while the wanax and his advisors went on and on about war, gold, and war.
"My lord," the messenger spoke. "I bring good news. Theseus has accompanied his friend Pirithous into the underworld. They plan to rescue a goddess who had been held prisoner by Polydegmon."
I shuddered at the mention of the Host of Many, the god of the dead was not one who was to be mentioned lightly.
"Menestheus rules in Theseus' stead," the messenger continued. "He has already fashioned himself as the wanax of Athens."
The wanax leaned forward. "What sort of man is Menestheus? Does he command the love and respect of the Athenians? Does he hold any ambitions over my sphere?"
News of Theseus' newest adventure spread throughout the palace like wildfire. At night, all the dakoroi could talk about was why Theseus would do such a stupid thing. There was also much speculation over this mystery goddess, whose name was unknown.
"He has gone mad," Eupheme declared. "He desires himself that goddess for his bride. But if she is one of the banished Titanedes, she will be a giantess."
"That isn't so," I said stubbornly. "I am from Eleusis, I know better than any of you."
Suddenly, all eyes turned to me. Eleusis was practically a part of Athens, after all.
"Theseus, glorious king of Athens, is an initiate of the Eleusian mysteries," I continued. "As are my father and mother." I paused as I thought back to distant times, before I was sent to Mycenae. "One of the secrets of the Eleusian mysteries is this, there was a goddess, borne of Zeus and Demeter, who was banished by the Olympians for defying Zeus himself…"
"Demeter doesn't have a daughter," someone cut in. "I would know, I'm one of her dakoroi. She has a son, a talking horse."
"She does have a daughter," I insisted. "But after she fell from grace, no mortals were permitted to speak of her, only a few will whisper of her. She is nearly forgotten, except by those in Eleusis, where we kept a shrine for Demeter…"
"This is the silliest thing I've heard," Stamatia snapped. She did not like being out of the center of attention for long. She pulled the lamp towards her face so that the light shone eerily. I recognized this as her storytelling pose. She liked to tell scary stories, especially to us younger girls. She liked to pick on me especially, I was known for being naïve.
"When the Olympians defeated the Titans, they were told, you may have what is above Gaia, around Gaia, and under Gaia, but you cannot have the earth herself. Hence the three sons of Cronus drew lots to divide the world between them. Zeus won the skies, as is proper for the king of the gods. Poseidon received the seas and poor Polynomos was given the miserable realm of the dead."
We all shivered at the mention of him. Stamatia paused and closed her eyes as if pained by the wails of the damned.
"Polynomos found that the underworld awaited him with two thrones, even though he had no wife. The presence of a second throne means that there must be a queen waiting to claim her kingdom, but Hades did not wish to share his power. Hence he swore to marry any woman who could sit upon it. Of course, he cast the throne within the hidden bowels of the earth where no being could reach it."
"That doesn't make any sense," someone interrupted. "Even if he were to take a wife, she too would be subject to his rule."
"Things work differently among the gods," Stamatia snapped.
She took a deep breath and resumed her storytelling voice. "There is a legend that the throne waits patiently, collecting dust. However, it will not be claimed easily. Even so, what woman would want to rule that bleary kingdom and bed its wretched king?" She stared right at me and held her hand out like claws. "And if you do not wash my robes, Phassa, he will come kidnap you and make you his wife."
I shrieked with terror.
"Don't say that, you'll give her nightmares. It's just a made up story," scolded one of her friends.
I washed her robes anyway, just in case.
#
For seven years Menestheus ruled Athens while Theseus presumably languished in the underworld for his crime of attempting to kidnap a goddess held prisoner by none other than the lord of the dead himself. Our own king Eurystheus took comfort in this, for Menestheus was not as popular as Theseus had been. Nor did the stand in king show any ambitions of expansion beyond the sphere that had been given to him- albeit on a temporary basis. Then on a breezy fall day, everything changed.
When the herald announced the arrival of Heracles, all the color drained from the wanax's face. "It cannot be," he whispered. "No one returns from the underworld." In fury, he threw a man sized vase across the room. He clutched his bleeding hand, shards had cut into it.
A man bounded in. full of energy. He was cheerful, dind of big and brawny. He had an air of innocent oblivion about him, like a large puppy that did not realize it had broken all the jars by running through. He carried a thrashing bag under his arm.
"Are you a ghostly spirit?" Eurystheus demanded. "You cannot be of flesh and blood or you would not dare to not bow."
"That I am, as is this dog your ordered that I deliver for my 10th and final labor," came the reply. He cracked the bag open and the wanax peered inside. I craned my neck but could see nothing.
"This cannot possibly be Cerberus," he roared. "What trickery is this?"
"There is but one three headed dog," Heracles with a wide eyed look. "If you do not believe me, go ask Hades yourself. I have finished my labors, I am free. As is Theseus, whom I met in the underworld. He is back in Athens, minus a good portion of his thighs." He chuckled and shook his head.
The wanax looked so angry that I thought his eyes would bulge out of his head.
"Alas dear cousin," he said. "You look at me with those accusing eyes, you mock me, you think I sit on your throne. But you forget who I am. I am the son of Sthenelus, who was the son of Perseus himself.
Heracles was smiling amiably, as if he had no idea what Eurystheus was talking about.
"No matter what trinkets you bring me, which kings you topple, I am and always will be the rightful ruler of Mycenae and Tiryns. By blood and divine will…" he shouted and went on and on until Heracles was finally saw himself out.
"Now Theseus is indebted to Heracles," the wanax fumed. "How is Menestheus reacting to Theseus' return?"
"He is very unhappy and refuses to relinquish power. Furthermore, Theseus has invited the Heraclidae to court as honored guests."
"More like bodyguards," he growled. "He is trying to assert his kingship over Menestheus. This is a grave threat. Heracles," he said. "He will be deified after death. How I tried to kill him. Now I wish to delay his death. But Athens is weakened with the struggle between Menestheus and Theseus. One has never been strong, the other has been disgraced. How can one kingdom have two kings?"
"We must attack first," said one of the generals. He had a grim face. "Theseus has sided with Heracles. Heracles keeps campaigning against states and replacing kings. This is unstable. He is setting up puppet governments everywhere, establishing himself as a shadow emperor. A king must fear assassination, but a roaming power behind the throne does not, especially if he will join the ranks of Olympus upon his death. His children will have an even strong claim on your throne. You must declare war on Athens for it is harboring the enemy. The Heraclidae are the enemy."
"No, my lord," insisted another general. I think his name was Machia. He had the coldest gaze I had ever seen. "Theseus may have disgraced himself, but he is still an icon of heroism, the son of Aegeus. To many, he is still loved. We must secretly encourage the factionalism between Theseus and Meneseus until they wage war upon each other. Then we shall invade with the claims of assisting our old ally Theseus. The troops do love a good everyone is killed, you must take the throne. This way you will end up as the Heraclidae's new master. When he tragically dies in battle, you can bask in his glory, rule in his name. Eurystheus, High King of Mycenae, Tiryns, and Athens."
Eurystheus narrowed his eyes. "How is it that my dear cousin has enough time to fight wars when he is so busy making children? His short blade must be very quick to penetrate. Priestess Two! What say you of this Heraclidae!" He stared straight at me. apparently I had been promoted from Priestess Four.
Oh dear. It was vital that I soothe his temper. I concocted what made the most sense. "The Heraclidae are but roaming bandits," I stammered. "They are sons who do not know their fathers, thus they claim a heroic man who will become a god. They are but a loose army without a cause or state. They have no divinity, nor are they better armed or skilled than an ordinary soldier."
"But now they have the Athenian navy!" the wanax shouted.
Nothing I can do about it, I thought. Instead, I bowed and fanned the fire more fervently. "The gods shall see you through," I said. It was my default answer when I ran out of good replies.
##
As much as I tried to purge my mind of impure thoughts, I could not resist them. I craved the even great taboo of masculine flesh. I was not sure what I was supposed to do with it, but I liked to see it. Surely there was nothing wrong with just looking, although it was far from satisfactory, especially since my enjoyment was obscured by the veil that had covered my face since the day I had seen first blood flow from my womb.
#
I stood next to the altar as the worshippers came forth to be blessed. Some of them brought small offerings, which I placed into the sacred hearth with as much grandeur as I could muster. Of course, the temple preferred coins more than anything else. I almost yelped when one woman threw herself on her knees and pressed a lock of hair into my hands. "Will the goddess hear a wife's prayer?" she wailed.
"Speak and you will be heard," I replied automatically. For once I was glad for my veil, for it hid my yawns from both mortals and gods.
She asked for the usual, a healthy and unified family, a strong son, blah blah blah.
I assured her of Hestia's blessing and prodded her to the side so I could receive the next party in line. A group of five men stepped forth. They all donned the leather sandals and cotton tunics commonly worn by important soldiers. One of them was a swaggering young man with a bound pig squealing on his shoulders. I took in the mischievous twinkle in his eyes, his long, lean limbs, and the cheery smile that lit up his sculpted face. If only I was the pig! This thought vanished immediately when the man gave an exaggerated grunt and heaved the struggling animal onto the altar.
The supplicant at the head of the group was not very old, but his face was tan and lined from the sun. "Will Hestia hear a soldier's prayer?" he asked grimly.
"Speak and you shall be heard." I eyed the handsome one, his kilt stretched across his-.
"We offer sacrifice to Hestia so that she will keep our city, army, and families whole. May our people find strength in our struggles. May our ranks fight unified in the face of battle. May our families stay intact should we men be sent to war."
I gestured at them to proceed. The warriors bent down to scoop a handful of barley from the sack propped against the front of the altar. Then they sprinkled the grain over the animal to show that the killing was not done out of violence. When the smiling handsome one leaned over, I simply could not resist. In a lightning movement, I reached over and--.
"Oww!" He straightened up and glowered at his comrades. "Did you pinch me?"
"It must have been a bug," the leader said. He gave me a stern look.
"Big bug," Handsome muttered. He followed his commander's gaze.
Embarrassed, I accidentally knocked over a jar in my haste to resume the ceremony. I sloshed water over the pig's head to make it nod in agreement to being sacrificed. Then I plunged my hand into the bag of barley, pulled out the knife that was kept hidden inside, and drew the blade against the animal's throat in a way I hoped was seductive. I sliced out the entrails and examined them.
"Hestia is pleased with the offering," I affirmed. I actually had no idea what she thought of it, but if I stared hard enough, the bloody guts seemed to indicate their approval.
-soldiers eat the pig?
The soldiers turned to leave and I stared after the one I liked. Right before he reached the gates, he looked straight back at me. He smiled and winked. I was smitten.
#
I kept thinking about that fine soldier in the days that passed. It gave me more reason to envy the girls who were daring enough to sneak out at night to mingle with boys. The local army camp happened to have plenty, but the fear of Tartarus kept me well behaved. I watched as my fellows flung aside their veils and hiked up their robes.
Eupheme fidgeted. "I'll go if you go," she offered.
"I don't know," I replied. "I'll go if you go too."
"Don't be silly, girls!" Stamatia cried. "All the gods are asleep at this hour, no one will see us."
"But after we die, we will be punished grievously."
"Just make a sacrifice now and then, all will be forgiven. As long as his penis doesn't spout liquid inside of you, it's not real coitus."
His penis spouts liquid? How disgusting. Perhaps this whole coupling business was overrated.
However, that was all that Eupheme needed to hear.
One of the older girls sliced the top off of a lemon and gave the rind to Eupheme. "Don't let it slip while he's in you," she instructed.
My friend looked at me. "Are you certain you're not coming?
"I think I will ask Hestia for a portent."
This was only way to know for certain. After the girls left, I placed a lock of hair into the sacred fire and asked for some kind of answer. Hestia had sent someone before, perhaps she would do so again. I waited and waited, but nothing happened. Disappointed, I made my way through the palace and back to the sleeping quarters.
I was so deep in thought I almost knocked into a slave was taking a tray full of cucumbers into the kitchens. A pair of throwing balls rolled down and two of them stopped next to the pillars. I picked them up and tossed them back to the boys who were playing with it. I gave a start when I thought one of the bulls in the frescoes appeared to rear up and mount another, but realized my mind must have been playing tricks.
#
One night, when I had hearth watching duty again, I was on the verge of nodding off to sleep when I spied a familiar figure step out of the shadows. It was the very woman I had met nine years ago, but she looked not a day older. Obviously, Hestia used the same messenger to communicate with mortals. She looked at me with annoyance before hopping onto the altar and taking an apple from the basket.
"How many portents do you need to get the idea?" she snapped.
I still was not convinced. Mortal this woman may not be, but surely Hestia would not associate with people as crass as her. Perhaps this demigoddess was actually a messenger of Aphrodite, pretending to be sent by Hestia.
"You are bold to claim to represent Hestia," I retorted. "The gods shall be angry indeed."
She shook her head. "You mortals know nothing of me. I may dress like a virgin, but that doesn't mean I am one." We both paused to look at her attire, which was sooty and unflattering. " The phallus is a wonderful thing. Too bad it comes with a man." She held up her half eaten apple. "A man is like a fruit. The longer you keep him, the more rotten he gets. Most women used to be smart enough to know this, but then man created marriage as a means to lord over women. Hence I am a sworn maiden." With that, she dramatically tossed the core into the sacred fire.
I almost snorted. If she was Hestia, I was Zeus' left butt cheek. I decided to play along and catch her off guard. "But you do not speak of men as if you were a virgin," I prodded.
"Maiden," she corrected. "A maiden is an unmarried woman. A virgin is an inexperienced person to be pitied."
"Are Artemis and Athena 'maidens' as well?"
"Artemis likes women, Athena has an iron hymen. Awful mutation, she was born in her armor, you know."
My jaw dropped. This lady, whoever she was, was claiming to be Hestia, sitting on her altar, eating her offerings, throwing trash in her sacred fire, blaspheming two other virgin goddesses, and wearing a girdle of purple without even being struck blind. Perhaps, just maybe, there was the smallest chance that she was whom she claimed. I sank to my knees, just to be safe.
"No, you're supposed to do that before men!" she quipped cheerfully.
#
When I was little, I feared the dark. Now that I was older, the dark was my ally. About six of us passed through the gate, which the guards readily opened for us, and ran through the night, laughing with anticipation. Security was very lax since only a very stupid foreigner would bother to kidnap a temple virgin. The only people up at this hour were slaves and guards. No one would believe a slave's word against that of a priestess. And the guards encouraged our nightly excursions. There were always troops camped in the vicinity outside the gates. When we arrived at the camps, I was awed by the rows of giant tents and the flying banners.
The other girls quickly disappeared into tents with young and lovely soldiers. Panicked, I grabbed Eupheme's arm before she could run off as well. I had only heard rumors here and there, I was unsure of how to acquire a man. "How is it done?" I whispered. I did not want to come off as a blundering fool.
Eupheme laughed. "The way animals do it, of course."
"I have to chase him down!?" I hate running.
"Not usually." She waved as a grinning boy tugged her away.
I was the last one left. I stayed hidden in the shadows, kept my head down, and shielded my face.
"Do not be shy, let us get a good look at you," someone encouraged. "Step into the torchlight if you are not hideously disfigured."
I refused.
"Make sure he never gets a good look at your face," Stamatia had lectured. "If he remembers that he has already had you, he most likely won't have you again. Men only like new things."
I was about to try the running method when one of the soldiers shook his head. He appeared to be a very important officer, and the grim set of his mouth was vaguely familiar. "If you were my daughter I would keep you locked in the house," he remarked.
I scowled. I did not like being the only girl who had failed to accomplish the difficult feat of mounting a man. "Feel fortunate that all men do not lock up their daughters, for then you would have no one to lie with."
He raised an eyebrow. "On second thought, your father apparently need not worry about locking you up." The eavesdroppers laughed.
I stormed away to wait elsewhere but he called out to me.
"Halt, friend. I feel that we have met. Are those the blood soaked sandals of a dakoroi? It is the giant pincher bug!"
My eyes widened as I remembered who he was. He was the leader of the men who had made the pig offering! I wondered if the handsome smiling fellow was near.
#
I made a second attempt the next night, but this time I followed an extra suggestion and held the man's wrist while staring at him "suggestively," whatever that meant. He was more of a boy really, his face was still smooth and I liked it. He was a little scrawnier than I preferred, but he would do. Anyway, the technique must have worked. He opened his tent flap, kicked out his surprised friends, and sat on his pile of blankets. I clung to his wrist with a death grip. I was determined to get this right.
"I am not going to run away," he informed me politely. As if to prove his point, he unfastened the clips at my shoulders.
"I thought you were supposed to," I replied humbly.
He didn't bother to answer. He tossed off his kilt and positioned me on all fours.
With great eagerness and just a touch of spite, I had my first carnal experience. Unfortunately, it was not a pleasant one. I squealed with indignation when I felt the piercing pain, I could not even finish. I was sore for days whenever I walked or sat down. However, I was glad that it was over with, done on my terms rather than at the mercy of an impatient husband eager to prove his virility.
After the ache faded away, I eagerly returned to the camp to find more men. However, my second time nearly convinced me that this whole coupling business was a waste of time.
The boy fumbled with himself and wiped the sweat off of his brow. "This usually does not happen," he insisted.
I examined the sticky mess he had made all over his thighs. "I am not certain, but I think you are supposed to do that after you penetrate me."
He became angry and defensive, clamoring it was my fault.
"It is your penis, not mine," I shrugged. I redressed and stood. The boy scrambled out of the bushes and tried to entice me back, but I ignored him. I had little tolerance for rude company.
Once I returned to the cluster of tents, I examined the remaining selection of the night. Too ugly, too old, too much facial hair, too dirty… All the good ones were already taken. Perhaps I could find someone from among the foot soldiers.
"Back again?"
It was him again, the grim faced general. I stopped in mid step and turned to glare at the rude brute that had made fun of me during my last visit.
"It is the maiden who wishes to be a whore," he smiled. "You must be very expensive indeed, if you cannot even find one man to lie with you."
"It would be sinful and exploitative to charge for something so pleasurable. Regardless, a whore could not be a whore without your business."
The impudent monkey laughed. "You are a righteous little girl, just like Antigone."
I gave a start at this. Antigone was one of my favorite people in recent history. Despite my great dislike for this soldier, I began to engage him in conversation about the fallen princess of Thebes. Then we started to talk about ourselves. He told me his name was Dievon, he had recently been promoted to lawagetas, and he had three children with a wife who was a few years older than me. I mentally cringed at the thought of sleeping with anyone his age. He must have been in his mid thirties, the proper age for a man to be wed to a woman younger than I, but I never did like this custom.
I told him I was from Eleusis, I was a burden to my family, and I was bored with fanning a fire all day.
"General!" someone said. I twisted around and saw a handsome, lean man striding towards us. It was the smiling soldier from the pig sacrifice!
"Lamious," Dievon nodded. "Meet Phassa, or, should I say be reacquainted with her." He smirked ever so slightly.
My shocked expression must have cued him in, for Lamious' eyes lingered over my face, my white robes, then my blood splattered sandals. He raised his eyebrows at Dievon, who rolled his eyes and nodded his head.
"Ah, it is the big bug," the younger man said. "Never have I seen a bug so pretty."
I glowed.
It was not long before Lamious and I grew intimate. Unlike all the others, he laid me down and had me face to face. Hence I thought of him as special and different. Sometimes I would even fantasize about being the only woman in his life. However, some fantasies were not worth even attempting.
Other men would boast of their battle scars, few they had. One night, my chosen bedmate for the hour twisted his leg around to show a scar on his ankle. "I got that during a campaign in Megara," he said proudly. "I fought 50 enemies at once and escaped with nothing but this."
I looked closely at the swollen pink lines. It looked more like a cat's scratch. There were many strays running around.
As I sated myself upon many others, I learned many lessons along the way. Apparently it was very important to tell every man that yes, he was the best lover, yes, his penis was the biggest, and yes, it was good, regardless of how close this was to the truth. Inevitably, I often had to lie. I had always been taught that lying was wrong, but exceptions had to be made for the sake of world peace.
"There is nothing more dangerous than a man with a bruised ego and an army," Stamatia told me darkly. "Why else would men fight wars?"
Dievon had a slightly different philosophy on the cause of war.
"When a man has power, he will do anything to keep it and attain more," he said during one of our frequent chats. Since coitus usually did not take long (with most men, at least, I often found ample time to speak with my new friend while the other girls were still engaged.)
Since Eleusis was so close to Athens, I feared that my family and home would get dragged into the inevitable war between Mycenae and Athens.
Dievon insisted that the barbarian empires that were waiting to conquer us were quietly exacerbating the hostilities between our people so we would be unable to provide a united resistance.
"But is it good to always be so united?" I questioned slowly and loudly. It was rather hard to hear over the screams of what was unmistakably a feral animal. "Eurystheus, may-Zeus-favor-his-reign, maintains his power! With a delicate alliance of nobles! Hence he can never amount to tyranny! Is it not better to have many men rule behind the throne rather than let one man rule absolute?"
"Oligarchy is too inefficient!" he shouted back. He picked an apple from the fruit platter and polished it against one of the many cushions that were scattered in his tent. When he pushed the tray towards me, I took a fig.
"Slower government! Is preferable to absolute government! Besides, if a man cannot keep his diadem to begin with! Perhaps he does not deserve it!" I bit into the fruit and savored the sweet taste. I only wished that someone would put the poor animal out of its misery, I was on the verge of becoming deaf.
"Such thought is merely an invitation for constant treason! Either way! This matter will not be resolved cleanly! Heracles has many descendants. There is but one throne of Mycenae and one of Tyrins."
Outside, the awful caterwauling only grew louder. I thought I could make out human speech, but brushed it aside, for Dievon seemed undisturbed.
I resumed the discussion. "Mycenae's sphere of influence is large enough for many petty princes! We dominate most of the Pelopponese-?!" Eleusis, for one, had no king of its own but sought direction from Athens, much like the rest of the villages in Attica.
"Hellus is but a boy of fifteen. How can he lead an army."
"If a woman is plenty old enough to bear children at that age, then a man can surely stand in battle. I for one, would rather stand on the battle line three times than give birth once."-Medea, from Euripedes.
"You have grave complaints about childbirth for one who has never undertaken it."
I looked down at my hands. "I am an old maiden of sixteen, should have born at least 3 children by now. if you men were to stop killing each other off in battle, then we women would not have to bear so many children to replenish the supply only to be gravely disappointed half the time when we bear daughters. Anyway, Hellus is plenty qualified despite his youth."
"Nothing wrong with him fighting a battle but can he rule? In war, a man will stab at you from the front. In politics, they will stab you in the back."
I frowned and twisted around to glare at the direction of the noise. I was quite certain I had heard coherent words along with the incessant cries. Words like "Heeeelp!" and "Nooooo!"
"What is that?" I bellowed.
Dievon took another bite of his apple and swept the tent flap aside. Outside, a person was being beaten! "Inter-ruh-guh-shun," he explained with his mouth bulging.
I could taste bile rising in my throat. The fig slipped from my fingers as I clamped a hand over my mouth. I quickly turned away from the sight and gave Dievon an incredulous stare. How could he tolerate this? However, he only looked puzzled and offered me a new fig.