Medea (51 page)

He had found me Clytie - oh, my murdered Clytie, I missed her so much! - and when I lay three-quarters dead after Polyxenos' birth, the face I had seen over Clytie's shoulder, coming to see if I lived, had been Nauplios, not Jason.

Nauplios had lifted me out of the foundered boat at Khirra, had cared for me and provided horses, and had accompanied me to Delphi and to Athens without ever importuning me, without even telling me he loved me.

I wondered now if Jason had ever loved me. Or even if the state of insanity in which I had existed for years had been love, or pure self-delusion. I had been very young, stirred by the mating of the Scythians, freed from all vows when Trioda cursed me, angry with the restrictions of life after my freedom amongst the Scyths, shocked by my father breaking his sworn word and by the fraud which debased the worship of the Dark Mother. And I had carried an itch which would not be scratched if I stayed with the maiden.

So I had gone with Jason and done anything he wanted. I had tamed the bulls and doped Ophis. I had murdered Pelias and supplied the poison for Korinthos, though Pythia had said that death was not laid to my charge. I had borne children in agony and loved them beyond measure. Now my life was concluded, and I was not allowed to die. So many dead.

'Lady?' asked Nauplios. 'What did the oracle say?'

'It is too fresh in my heart for me to speak of it,' I said. 'Let us talk of other things. Did I ever tell you about the bronze giant?'

'No, never. Tell me of Talos,' he answered.

And I watched his face as I told him of the dying man and the monstrous bronze machine. I had also not noticed that Nauplios was good to look at. He was not beautiful, not Jason of the golden hair, the pale, cruel eyes and deceitful heart. Nauplios was not tall. He was broad and strong with heavily muscled arms and legs. His hands were big and calloused, like those of a farmer or a fisherman. His hair was dark brown, neither curly nor straight, and was mostly tied back from his tanned forehead by a leather thong. He had a charming smile, very youthful, though experience had carved lines on his face and his eyes were surrounded with the far-seer's net of lines, which are caused by staring over bright water or through fog. He could always distract me, even now, making me laugh at some waterfront scandal. I could not remember Jason ever making me laugh.

But if I rejoined Hekate I could not lie with a man again.

My body was still languorous with Herakles' love. I still felt his semen flow from my loins along with the moon-blood. I would have to give up this pleasure if I went back to Hekate. Even assuming that he would wait until I could bear the idea, I could not take the deserving Nauplios as my lover if I embraced the Dark Mother again.

I was overcome and wept as we rode through the silvery olive groves to the sea. I was confronted continually with choices, and I wanted a straight path. Death had seemed so simple. Life was unbearably complicated.

 

The temple of Hekate at Piraeus was very large, very ancient, and most of it was under the ground. I stripped off my fine gown and even my tunic, soaked in Herakles' love, and walked naked down the steps into the blackness beyond, the dogs behind me. Moon blood smeared my inner thighs and I heard the suck and slap of moisture as I walked.

'Medea,' said a voice, and I stood still. It was not the priestess I had been expecting. It was a divine voice, and I hurried down to find a place where I could kneel. The floor of this cavern was carpeted in something which rustled, perhaps pine needles or straw. Scales rubbed against my skin. I was not afraid. If the goddess wished me to die, she need only have not interfered at Delphi. Snakes wreathed around me and the hounds, who crouched at attention on either side of me.

'Medea,' said the voice again, a tone of infinite patience. I felt that she would keep calling me until I replied, if it took forever.

'Lady of Roads, Three-Headed One, Lady of Ghosts, I am here,' I said, almost under my breath. 'I am Medea, once your priestess. I have made the sacrifice of my own blood, of my body and the bodies of my most dearly loved. I am naked, without defence. Drinker of Blood, She Who Is Met On The Road, Snake Lady, speak.'

'Medea, you have always been mine,' she said, and a delicious sleepiness crept over me, as it had so long ago in the grove, when I had been a lonely child.

'Medea, you are mine,' she said, and I strove to force my eyelids open. 'Medea, you will always be mine,' she concluded.

I woke some uncounted time later, curled asleep amongst the hounds. A plump woman in black garments was sitting cross-legged in wheat-straw, plaiting it into a band.

'Ah, you have returned,' she commented, her fingers moving without her attention. 'The goddess has spoken. Hekate has accepted you.'

'Yes,' I agreed.

'You do not seem to be as pleased as I would have expected,' she said. She was a young woman with short curly hair and clever hands.

'I am now faced with having to dismiss one who loves me, as I can never lie with him if I rejoin the Crone,' I said, pushing myself wearily upright. Kore nudged me and I shoved her head away.

To my amazement, I heard the priestess laugh. In fact, she did not just laugh, she whooped with merriment and dropped her plait, having to grope for it in the straw.

'Who told you that, sister?' she asked, conquering her mirth.

 

'What an idea! If the priestesses are barren, where will the acolytes come from?'

'From the populace,' I said.

'That may be the practice in Colchis, a far place where the language is strange and the customs stranger,' she told me. 'Here we prefer to have the daughter of the priestess follow her mother. She can be instructed when she is very young, before she has time to be frightened.'

She finished the plait and wound it around my head, fastening it with a flat knot under Herakles' flowers. I realised that she was not just plump, she was pregnant. This priestess of Hekate had practised what she preached.

'Some women only come to Hekate after they have passed childbearing,' she said, running a finger along my legs. 'But you are still fertile, the moon still rules your tides. You may mate and bear within the goddess' worship, of course, if you wish. And she will be with you, whether you do or not, whether you are chaste or married, whether you are young or old. How else could we trust her, being women, fallible and prone to violence, sin and error?

'Come now, sister. We will say our prayers together to the Dark Mother, and then perhaps you will stay the night. Or several nights, if you wish. For a message has come for you, sent to all the temples of Hekate throughout Achaea, carried on by messengers from the Euxine Sea to the Propontis, from there to the sea of Aegeas, borne on Oceanos.'

'What message?'

'I will tell you later,' she promised.

We came at length out of the dark into a large room, where fifteen women were sitting down to a meal. They had found Nauplios and were clearly pleased with him, for they had seated him at a table by himself and were plying him with tidbits as though he was a performing dog. He rose instantly as I came in, but asked no questions.

'It is all right,' I said. He nodded and relaxed, and the noise rose again.

This was a temple of Hekate, I told myself. It was draped in black, the image was of sable stone, the sanctuary was underground and peopled with serpent folk. The prayers, allowing for a certain freedom of translation, were the same, as were the titles of the goddess. And here I had heard that same divine voice which young Princess Medea had heard and had cried for when it went away.

But there were sixteen women here in one place, which was forbidden in Colchis. They were eating all manner of food, including meat and cheese. They were drinking wine. They were dressed in the black robes over the blue tunic, but they were laughing and chattering like ordinary women.

It was impossible. Dazed, I accepted a seat at the big trestle table and allowed them to feed me soft cheese and green herbs.

'I think the apples will bear well this year, unless the gods send storms,' said one. 'The trees are loaded with blossom like snow.'

'And at least eleven of the goats will deliver. I'm not sure about the old nanny. She could be pregnant, or she could be fat,' commented another.

'Unlike our Nys, who is definitely mated and will definitely bear,' they laughed.

Nyssa, my priestess, grinned and patted her belly. 'I'm sure that the old nanny mated,' she declared. 'That old man-goat will mate with anything, as you found when you turned your back on him last spring,' she teased, and a young acolyte blushed and then giggled.

This was not the worship of Hekate as I knew it and I was shocked, but then found myself wondering what was good about the worship of Colchian Hekate as I had known it. It had been gloomy, life-denying and cruel, concerned with fear and with power. These chattering girls could probably compound a potion, knew their herbs, relied on Hekate to protect them and prayed to her. What else could a sensible goddess require?

I tasted their stew, at their urgent request, and it was excellent.

After this meal and a cup of their wine, which was rather young and sour, Nyssa sat me on a bench by the temple door and bade me wait for my message.

The scroll was brought by an old woman, the head priestess, who is always called Hekate. She had been sleeping when I arrived, for she was very old. She was conducted to her chair by two deferential acolytes and she stared into my face for a long time. Then she touched the flowers and the plaited band and asked in a whisper, 'Are you Medea of Colchis, sister?'

'Lady Hekate, I am Medea,' I replied.

'Then this message is for you.'

I unwound the scroll. It was written on a parchment in both Colchian and Achaean, with a Phrygian translation underneath. It had passed through Troy, because the mark of the king was on it. His name appeared to be
Priamos,
which means 'one who has been ransomed' and was probably a scribal error. If not, it was a strange name for a king, especially since the next word was
Lykke,
which could only mean 'wolf-woman'.

'Strange as Trojan ways' was a proverb in Colchis, but not even Trojans, surely, would be that strange.

On the other hand it was turning into a very peculiar world. Happily pregnant priestesses of Hekate would have seemed unimaginable the day before.

The message began abruptly. 'To the lady Medea, once Princess of Colchis, once Priestess of the Dark Mother, now wife to Jason, son of Aison of Iolkos and King of Corinth in Achaea, your father Aetes' greeting. I am banished by a usurper, who gained my palace with the help of a priestess of your order called Trioda. The sons of Phrixos left to start a colony near Lake Trionis and are not returning. Chalkiope, their mother, died of a spotted fever last summer. If you read this, daughter, return. I repent me of my rash actions, I repent me of my broken oath to the Achaeans, for which the goddess is punishing me by killing my son and taking away my kingdom. The kingdom is still in your gift. The Old Woman in the Cave directed me to send this plea, saying that you are faithful, though to me you were faithless. The Royal Scyths will know where to find me.'

Then there was the royal seal, a square stamp a palm's width, marked in purple dye, the colour of kingship. I let it roll up in my lap and sat thinking for some time. Colchis was in my gift, that was true, if Chalkiope, my sister, was dead. Her sons had left and did not wish to claim it. My half-brother Aegialeus was long dead. And now, Trioda, who had cast me out of the worship of Hekate and set my feet firmly on the road to death and unbearable loss, had conspired with a stranger to wrest the lordship from my father and replace him on the throne.

I did not know how long the message had been on its way to find Medea, once wife of Jason, now priestess and princess again. There was no immediate way I could come to the rescue of Aetes. It would take me the rest of the sailing season to get to Colchis, and only if we were lucky with the winds.

I could, however, set out. Nauplios had sent a runner to Khirra to fetch his own boat, and I would wait the days in this strange temple. Kore and Scylla clearly felt completely at home here. They were lying under the big table and graciously accepting the scraps and bits which the priestesses let drop for them. And they were getting old. I would take my most devoted friends home to die in their own country, and see what could be done about the affairs of Colchis.

And I could go with Nauplios for, if it came to that, if I found that I could lie with him and risk another pregnancy - my mind shied off the thought - then I could marry and retain the priesthood of the Mother and the favour of Hekate. But before I did anything of the kind, I would compound some herbs in copper, just in case. My children still occurred to me. Every time I closed my eyes I could see the bundles bodies lying in the courtyard of the temple, hear Mermerus's voice asking for Arktos. I might risk love, but I could not risk pregnancy again.

And I would not risk love until I had an unequivocal sign. I had felt pleasure with Herakles, but he was a hero on the way to becoming a demigod. I would not insult my friend Nauplios by lying with him just out of gratitude or because I felt I should reward him for his kindness and protection. Those are acceptable motives under ordinary circumstances, but these circumstances were not ordinary.

I gave him the scroll to read.

'We are going to Colchis?' he asked.

'Yes, when the boat arrives. Can the two of us manage it?'

'With luck and care, but it will take months. You will accept my protection, Lady?'

'Yes, I will accept it gladly,' I said, and smiled at him.

'You will make a mariner yet,' he said.

 

Three days later, an over-excited sailor brought
Good Catch
into the beach at Piraeus, leapt out and declared to us, 'Have you heard the news?'

'No,' I said, watching a collection of sturdy women load food and water-skins aboard the little red boat. Nauplios had given his three horses to the temple, and they felt that they should make him some return. We had enough food - dried meat and fruit and parched corn - to last most of the way to Colchis, and I had some gold and most of my jewellery. The women of Hekate had plaited wheat-straw collars for the dogs, of which they seemed proud, and had combed and massaged all of us. We were scented with jasmine and so fine that Nauplios declared he did not know us.