Authors: L. M. Roth
“What is this
for, I wonder,” Felix mused. “It is like a wall of protection as if to guard
something of value. But what could the treasure be, do you think?”
“I do not like
the look of it,” Kyrene suddenly added, in a voice that shook slightly. “There
is some great evil here; I feel it the closer we move to that hill.”
Marcus trusted
Kyrene’s discernment, yet confessed himself as curious as Felix.
“Perhaps there
was in the past, Kyrene, and you feel the lingering memory of it,” he told her.
“Yet, I also wish to explore further.”
Cort and Dag
chimed in agreement. Elena moved closer to Felix as if for protection. Kyrene
hesitated, yet ceded to the others who clearly would not rest until they solved
the mystery.
They entered
the outer ring of stones. Once they were inside the outer circle, they
discovered that the interior stones were not in a ring, but set in some kind of
a maze that led them first in one direction and then another. There being
several groupings of stones that led into the hillside, they were quickly
confused and lost their bearings of direction altogether. They could not
ascertain whether they were headed further into the interior or back to the
outer perimeter.
They were soon
separated into smaller groups as panic assailed them. Dag kept a protective
hand on Cort, Elena broke away from Felix as she attempted to scramble back to
the outer ring, and Marcus found himself paired off with Kyrene. They frantically
called out to one another to ascertain each other’s whereabouts, but the
confusion abounded the more.
“Cort, move
back from that stone,” Dag’s voice cautioned the young boy.
“I was not
going to touch it, Dag,” Cort replied.
“Why do you
tell me that?” Dag asked him.
“You told me
to move away from it,” Cort answered. “So I told you I was not going to touch
it. Why would I touch it?”
“I did not
speak to you,” Dag frowned in puzzlement.
“Yes, you did.
I heard you. You
did
speak to me!” Cort exclaimed.
“Do not lie,
Cort,” Dag admonished him.
“I am not
lying!” Cort protested.
“Kyrene, let
go of my arm,” came the voice of Marcus.
Kyrene
answered indignantly.
“I am not
holding your arm, Marcus,” she huffed at him.
“I did not say
you were, Kyrene,” Marcus answered as he looked askance at her.
“You just told
me to let go of your arm, Marcus!” Kyrene cried out.
“I never did!”
Marcus claimed. “You are not even holding my arm.”
“That is
exactly what I mean!” Kyrene insisted.
Marcus stared
at her, and put a finger to his lips.
“Some
wickedness is astir; I feel it,” he whispered to her. “Come; let us solve the
mystery of this maze. But first, we must find the others.”
Marcus raised
his voice and called out to the others. They answered one by one. He asked for
their positions in the maze, and instructed them all to continue toward the
hillside.
After about a
quarter of an hour, and with many twists and turns to the right and the left,
they all met together in the inmost ring of stones. They linked hands to keep
together and continued walking into the heart of the maze.
At last the
green hillside faced them. In the center of it was a cave with an opening
partly blocked by a heap of boulders. There was an opening of perhaps two feet
wide, just space enough to permit them to enter one at a time. A foul smell
greeted them from the door of the cave.
They paused
and glanced at one another. One by one they looked to Marcus to lead them.
Something
troubled him about this place, yet he earnestly desired to solve the mystery of
it. He pondered for several moments, then looked at Felix and nodded his head.
“Let us
enter,” he declared.
Felix obeyed
and quickly followed Marcus into the opening. They had scarcely entered and
were inside for no more than a moment or two when they suddenly retreated and
fled from the entrance.
“Run!” Marcus
shouted. “We must leave this place at once!”
“Wait!”
He stopped
himself.
“Dag, Felix,
help me,” he commanded.
He stooped to
the mouth of the cave and rolled a large boulder toward the entrance. Felix
divined his meaning and helped Marcus roll it. They pushed another to join it.
Dag asked no questions, but rolled an even larger boulder atop the other two.
When they had finished, the door of the cave was sealed from the bottom to
halfway up, leaving merely a narrow opening through which only a child could
enter if he first scrambled up the slippery boulders.
Marcus ordered
everyone to join hands and follow him back through the maze. As they left the
cave door and entered the maze they heard a bellowing from the cave as if some
creature cried out in rage. But so pale were the faces of Marcus and Felix that
none asked questions: they decided to save their breath for running.
They twisted
their way through the torturous maze, none daring to look behind, and at last
reached open territory.
“Run to the
beach,” Marcus instructed. “We gather our packs, take the boat, and leave this
cursed island at once!”
Sensing urgency
in the command of Marcus coupled with the silence and ashen face of Felix, they
obeyed without question. They gathered their bundles, wrapped the salted fish
in branches and stowed them in the empty cooking pot along with the extra
berries they had gathered that morning.
Packing all in
the boat, they ran with it to the shallows. They seated themselves within; all
but Dag, who pushed it into deeper water, then jumped in. They once more rowed
with their hands until the boat carried the current and bore them far away from
the mysterious island.
They wasted no
energy in seeking explanations for their hasty departure from Marcus or Felix:
they saved their strength for rowing as rapidly as they could to clear the
island. Not until they rowed a distance of at least two miles from the vicinity
did they stop rowing and permit the current to take them.
Only then did
Dag address Marcus.
“What did you
find in the cave?” he asked simply.
Marcus paled
and flinched visibly, and Felix shuddered. Neither could speak for a moment;
then Marcus addressed his friend.
“Horror
unspeakable,” he said as his eyes slowly filled with tears. “Bones we saw
strewn all about; the bones of children.”
Marcus
trembled and bowed his head to his chest, as if overcome by what he had
discovered.
Kyrene gasped
involuntarily.
“Sacrifice,”
she whispered in tones of utter horror. “Child sacrifices! But, when, how…”
“What was the
sound we heard as we fled; like that of a great beast gone mad?” Dag inquired.
“That I do not
know,” Marcus replied. “We saw nothing. But the cave was deep, and appeared to
go down into the earth, rather than farther into the hillside. It was of rock,
and we heard the sound of hooves echo in the chamber coming toward us; like that
of a horse or a bull or a goat. We heard no bellow until we blocked the
entrance. I wanted no escape access for whatever it was to follow us from its
lair.”
The others
paled as they listened to Marcus. Elena covered her face and sighed deeply.
Cort looked slightly ill. Dag bowed his head and shook it slowly.
Only Kyrene
spoke.
“A bull,
perhaps?” she said slowly as if deep in thought. “I have heard tales from long
ago about a people who sacrificed their young to a great bull. They were great
leaders of commerce and trade. All who carried cargo in their ships had to pass
through the waters of their country. They levied a toll; either pay the toll or
give their firstborn son or daughter.
“The child or
youth was then sacrificed to the great bull which was kept in a great stone
labyrinth. The child was led and sealed into the labyrinth without knowledge
beforehand of its evil inhabitant. A game, it was told, a game played in the
dark to test its courage. Poor child; it had no inkling that it would never
again see the light of day.”
They were
silent as the hideous tale was narrated, and more silent still after it was
recounted.
“I thought it was
only a tale,” Kyrene continued. “That land fell into decay long ago, their
people enslaved and scattered from their island home. So, who carries on this
barbarous practice?”
“We saw no
evidence of any habitation on the island,” Felix remarked. “Therefore, it must
be that some people from an island nearby take their young people there to
sacrifice, or they have vanished and the animal remains.”
“However,”
Marcus interjected, “they cannot have vanished very long ago or the animal
would not still live. There is nothing it could eat on the island, provided it
could leave the cave. And remember, we had to enter single file into the narrow
opening, so it may be that the creature cannot leave due to its size.
Therefore, it might be that someone does indeed bring food to it when they do
not have any young to offer as a sacrifice.
“For my part,
I thought it best to seal as much of the opening as possible to prevent its
escape: and to leave as quickly as we could to prevent meeting its keepers.
And, this may be the meaning to a strange vision I had in the night watch…”
Marcus rapidly
related the vision of the five eaglets and the serpent that lay in wait for
each one to flounder and fall into its clutches, only to be rescued each time
by the great eagle that beat the serpent back until it lost its grip on the
tree and fell into the sea.
“And each
little eaglet flew higher and higher to escape the grasp of the serpent, but
the great eagle beat it back until it finally lost its grasp. Hmmm, I wonder if
the vision and the maze are connected. Perhaps we were to be the ones
sacrificed this time? But the Spirit of Dominio gave us warning by the
uneasiness we felt, and saved us from whatever monster it was who lay in wait
in the cave? And any who might have arrived to sacrifice us to the creature?
“Yet pity the
poor children who were not so fortunate in the past, and have been sacrificed
to the loathsome beast; and by their own parents!”
“Ugh,” Felix
grunted in disgust. “How I loathe those who sacrifice their young. Can anything
be more evil than such a vile practice? Even Valerians only serve offerings of
fruit and grain to their false gods! Who would serve such a deity that would
demand the blood of one’s children?”
“I also cannot
comprehend such a practice,” Marcus agreed. “Yet are not all blind who offer
libations to idols? We must pray for those whose minds have been blinded,
Felix. Compassion, not condemnation, is what we must extend.”
“Yah,” Dag
chimed in. “I too was blind. I too, with all of my kin, bowed down to the Bear.
Praise Alexandros, who set me free!”
“Yes, Dag,”
Kyrene nodded at him. “Praise the Lord of light and life!”
Then softly at
first, but with increasing passion, Kyrene lifted up her voice in praise:
“I was in the
depths of despair, and He heard me,
He brought me
out into the light, into the light He brought me.
Where is the
fear that once I felt? Where is the sentence of death?
It is gone,
gone with the coming of day.
He heard me; He
rescued me, and saved my soul,
And now I
follow His way.”
They sped on
swiftly as their small craft was caught in the current and carried them
westward. Each day dawned with such dazzling clarity in skies of such a vivid
blue that it seemed nothing could weigh down their hearts for long. Even the
horror of the little island with its gruesome secret was quickly erased from
their minds the farther they traveled from it.
They spent
their days on the waters entertaining one another with tales of their homelands
and customs that seemed foreign to each other’s ears. Dag and Cort spoke of the
autumn hunt when the men left the women of the village to trek deep into the
forest to stalk the bear and the boar. There they used their long spears to
bring down the great beasts. After butchering them they salted the meat to
provide food through the long frozen winter. The furs were saved to be tanned
into pelts, to either be sold or used for cloaks, or
kapakes
, as they
were called, or for coverings for warmth in the bitterly cold nights.
The return of
the men was celebrated with a great feast. The children gathered nuts and
berries, and the women collected the last of the honey and baked hearty loaves
of bread. Some honey was saved and stored in the cellars for winter’s use, but
much was lavished on the fresh slabs of new bread to be eaten with the festive
meal.
It was, said
Dag, a time of great joy, as the village rejoiced in provision for the winter.
There was much laughter and dancing, with the young ones playing games while
the elders sat apart and watched the festivities.
Cort chimed in
and related that a favorite game with the children was
Staerkes
, which
meant Sticks in their language. To play it, one needed to collect many small
sticks and make a square formed out of pebbles. Once the square was formed
sticks were laid in a criss cross pattern within it. The children took turns
walking on the sticks in the square, being careful not to break any. If a stick
was broken, the offender was dismissed from the game and had to sit down. The
last person left without breaking any sticks was declared the winner.
Felix chuckled
as Cort gave his recital.
“But tell us,
Cort,” he laughed, what is the object of such a game? For it makes no sense to
me.”
Cort smiled at
Felix with his usual good nature.
“Why, you
see,” he explained, “it is to train us for the hunt. For in the forest one must
be as still as a mouse to creep up on our prey. If one steps on even a twig in
the woods, all the animals hear it and do not show their faces. One must be
quiet if one wants to eat.”
“Yah,” Dag
nodded his head. “In my tribe we have one lad who grew up known as
Staerke
Kuete
, or Stick Snap. To this day he is called by that name. He is not good
at the hunt. He is not yet wed for no maid will give her hand to one who can
not feed her. Now he is known as
Skiene Leages
, or Lean Legs, for there
is not much weight on him. Our maids look at a man’s build to choose a mate. If
he is lean, he does not hunt well. They will not wed one who does not bring
home meat.”
The others
roared with laughter, long and loud. Felix wiped his eyes and turned to Dag.
“What a
practical lot your maids must be! Tell me, do none of them ever wed just for
the love of a man?” he chuckled.
Dag flinched
and quickly turned his head away. Marcus saw it but before he could intervene
Kyrene, who also noticed their friend’s discomfort, came to the rescue.
“Well, at
least they may choose their husbands,” she interjected. “In my land our
marriages are made for us. If a man wants to wed a lady he speaks to his father
and makes his wishes known. His father then calls on the lady’s father. If her
father is willing for the match, he must make an offer to provide money or land
or a home for her to bring with her to the marriage. She is bartered; if the
price is not enough for the young man’s father, she is rejected and must wait
for another offer for her hand. It can be discouraging if a young lady loves a
young man only to be rejected by his father.”
A shadow
crossed Kyrene’s pretty face as she uttered these last words, and Marcus
wondered if she had suffered such a fate. He judged her to be about twenty
years of age, a little past the time when most young women were wed. And she
was certainly a fair young lady from a respectable family, albeit a tradesman;
as such, why was she not given in marriage by now?
“Yes, that
must be very hard,” Felix concurred, as he nodded his head in agreement. “Now
in Valerium, we are free to choose our mates. If a man desires a particular
lady he is free to woo her at will. He is at the mercy only of the young lady
herself, whether she will have him or no.”
“How does one
court a lady in your country, Felix?” Kyrene inquired.
She appeared
to be recovered from her momentary introspection, and turned to Felix with eyes
alight with interest.
“I am curious;
does he make his intentions known, or does he keep her in suspense as she waits
for him to make a declaration?”
“He can do
either,” Felix answered. “Truly, it depends on his confidence, I deem. If he is
certain of her heart, he openly woos her with gifts and words of love. If he is
not certain that his love is returned he may wait, and choose to meet her only in
the company of others before pursuing his courtship.”
“And what kind
of gift does a man bestow on his beloved?” Kyrene asked. “Is there a
traditional way for a man to show his intentions to a lady?”
“Yes, I think
so,” Felix said. “A gift of flowers is one of the customary ways. For by giving
those he pays tribute to her beauty, declaring her to be the equal of any
blossom that ever graced a garden,” Felix sighed.
Marcus
remembered…a warm spring day shortly before his capture and bondage when he and
Tullia had walked together in her father’s garden, and how she had delighted in
the fragrance of the roses. He had picked a full red one for her that grew too
high for her to reach, and she had received it with smiling thanks, and lifted
the sweet smelling bloom to her nostrils, eyes closed as though to shut out any
distraction from its enchanting scent.
Marcus thought
of the other rose he had given to Tullia, and how quickly she had dropped it in
the river at his proposal. Was it due to surprise? Or did she despise him for
daring to ask for her hand when he had nothing to offer but his heart? His lips
twisted in bitterness at the thought.
“How lovely!”
Marcus heard
Kyrene exclaim and quickly jerked his attention back to the conversation.
“Does he offer
any gifts?” Kyrene continued. “Or do the flowers reveal his intentions so that
other gifts are not necessary?”
“Oh, the
flowers clearly reveal his heart,” Felix assured her. “But he may present other
gifts just to show his affection. He may, for example, bring back a memento if
he has traveled from home. Perhaps not a valuable object, but some small thing
that reveals his thoughts of her while on his journey. Mayhap nothing more than
a sea shell or a necklace of beads; still, it shows her that she was in his
thoughts. And that is no small thing when courting a bride!”
Kyrene joined
Felix in his laughter, and remarked that the customs of Valerium must be very
pleasant indeed. Marcus could not bring himself to join in the merriment. For
him, the wound was too raw, too tender.
He glanced
again at Dag, who remained silent. The great man did not appear to be
listening, but sat staring into the waves in rapt solemnity, one tear coursing
down the rugged contours of his face, and stealthily wiped away.
Never once had
he mentioned the defection of Fanchon since they left her at Gaudereaux: yet
clearly Dag was thinking of her at this moment. It grieved Marcus to witness
Dag’s silent suffering. But the stoic Trekur Lender refused to speak of her.
Marcus silently prayed that Dominio would heal the hurt, and that his friend
would yet find wedded happiness in this life.
Kyrene and
Felix gasped from their laughter, and it slowly died. Felix then turned to
Elena.
“Ah, and what
of your land, fair Elena? Have you any strange customs you may tell to amuse
us?”
Felix asked
the former slave girl with a sparkle in his rich brown eyes, but she answered
him with a flash in her own bird-like black ones before she lowered her gaze,
not however, before Marcus noted that she clamped her lips together tightly, as
if to squelch whatever she had been about to say.
“I do not
think the customs of my land would amuse you, my lord,” she answered in her
honeyed voice. “Nor would I wish to make sport of my people by provoking your
laughter.”
“Oh, come
now,” Felix smiled in his most winning manner at Elena, “I mean no harm. It is
only that the voyage is dull and I wish to find a pleasant way to pass the
time. Tell us, fair lady, how do your young men court your maids?”
Mollified by
his importuning, and softened somewhat by his engaging charm, Elena relented.
“Very well, my
lord,” she replied in her sweetest tone. “In Esperanza when a young man wishes
to wed, he must first ask permission of her father to seek her hand. If her
father grants it, then he may woo her, but always in the presence of her
attendant, who keeps a discreet distance. Never are they permitted to be
completely alone, for to do so would compromise the lady severely.
“If he asks
for her hand and she grants it, then he must go to her father and agree to pay
the bridal price. It must be paid before the ceremony to her father. It is to
compensate for the loss of his daughter, for our women are highly valued in my
country, and treated with the greatest respect. Brides are prizes to be won,
and treasured with the utmost care.”
There was a
silence as Elena paused. Marcus thought of Tullia and how he adored her. How he
would treasure her if she would only let him!
Kyrene turned
slightly in the boat toward Elena.
“Elena,” she
began in her low velvety voice, now soft in its gentleness of tone, “in some
ways you are a stranger to us still. Will you tell us your history? How came
you to serve in the household of Pascal and Gaelle?”
Kyrene gave
the girl an encouraging nod and a smile but Elena frowned as though the
question roused unpleasant memories.
“How I came to
be a slave, you mean?” she responded in a hard voice that little resembled her
usual dulcet tone.
The others
fastened their eyes on her, and waited for her to continue.
For a moment
she sat erectly with her lips pursed together tightly and her smooth brow
furrowed in reverie. Then she sighed and the tension left her body. She closed
her eyes for a moment; then began to tell her story.