Authors: Wilbur Smith
I was uncertain which way to turn next. I felt the first gnawing of despair in my guts. I steeled myself against it and called aloud to the goddess for help. ‘Inana! Where are they? Do not desert me now. Lead me to them, I implore you.’
She answered me immediately; her voice echoing down from the upper level of the building. ‘Taita! Is that you, my lord?’ I heard the patter of her footsteps on the stairway. ‘I thought at first it was another gang of robbers seeking plunder,’ she cried.
In her hooded gown she raced down the last few steps and threw herself into my arms. I cupped her face in my hands and lifted it. I stared at her for a moment before I found my voice. ‘Loxias!’ I cried. ‘What are you doing here, child! I mistook you for somebody else.’
‘My Lord Toran sent me to wait for you here. We knew that you would come. I am to show you the way to the Higher Temple of the god Cronus in the mountains.’ She was blubbering so uncontrollably that I had difficulty understanding what she was saying. I hugged her close to quieten her.
‘Slow down, my little one! I do not understand any of this. Take a deep breath and speak slowly.’
‘At the bidding of the Supreme Minos the priests have taken Tehuti and Bekatha to the Higher Temple. There they will sacrifice them to placate the god Cronus, and to prevent him destroying the Minoan Empire with fire and brimstone.’ She drew another deep breath and hurried on, ‘They have already sacrificed forty of the virgin wives of the Supreme Minos, but Cronus has rejected them. His rage is unassuaged. He demands the ultimate sacrifice: the virgin princesses of the Pharaonic House of Egypt.’
‘Where is Toran now?’
‘He has gone to the Higher Temple to try to deter the Supreme Minos from this terrible deed, or at the very least to delay the sacrifice until you arrive. He says that you are the only one who may be able to save Tehuti and Bekatha. Somehow he knew you would come. There was a hooded lady in his dreams who warned him—’
‘Do you know the way to this temple?’ I interrupted her.
‘Yes,’ she said. ‘It is not too far from here. Toran has told me how to find the secret entrance, and to work my way through the labyrinth.’
I seized her arm and ran with her through the deserted rooms to the front entrance of the embassy. Zaras and Hui were waiting for me there with all their men. Zaras jumped down from the saddle and ran to meet me.
‘You have found—’ Zaras started, but then he recognized Loxias under the hood. ‘Where are the princesses?’
‘Enough!’ I cut off his questions. ‘I will explain all of it to you while we ride. Loxias knows where to find them. She will take us there.’
Hui had found six additional horses in the embassy stables; enough for every one of the men to ride. I seated Loxias on the saddle behind me and she locked her arms around my waist while I whipped up my stallion.
We rode in a tight group. Loxias directed me to the road that ran westwards along the mountainous spine of the island. Within two leagues we reached a fork in the road. The main branch continued straight on, but a lesser track branched off towards the peak of Mount Ida. This route was marked by a monstrous cedar-wood tree; its dead top branches soared upwards towards the backdrop of the billowing volcanic clouds.
‘Lord Toran says that this tree is a thousand years old.’ Loxias spoke over my shoulder. ‘And that is the symbol of the god Cronus.’ She pointed to the skull of an enormous aurochs bull that was nailed to the trunk of cedar wood. The horns were almost twice the size of those of the bull which had killed Waaga, the slave. Time and sunlight had bleached them to a dazzling white.
I spent not another moment in contemplating them, but turned our mount on to the track as Loxias directed me. It climbed up through the dense forest, and it was only just wide enough to allow two horses to gallop abreast. It ended abruptly against a high blackstone cliff. Into the foot of this cliff was set a massive brass door. In the centre of this door was a locking wheel of the same metal.
Loxias threw herself out of the saddle behind me and landed catlike on her feet. She ran to the doorway and began to turn the locking wheel, spinning it left and right, counting the revolutions aloud.
Behind her I dismounted and strung my bow, using one of the new dry bowstrings. Then I drew a pair of arrows from my quiver and tucked them into my belt where I could reach them in an instant. I nocked a third arrow and held the stock of my bow in my left hand. Then with my right hand I eased my sword in its scabbard. Zaras and Hui and all their men followed my example, readying their weapons and moving up behind Loxias and me.
Loxias turned the locking wheel one last revolution and the mechanism clicked loudly. I motioned to Zaras to help her heave on the wheel. At the same time I stepped to one side and drew my arrow to full stretch; aiming over Zaras’ shoulder.
The door swung open ponderously. Close behind it stood two of the green-uniformed viragoes from the royal seraglio. Both of them held drawn swords at the ready. They rushed forward to strike at Zaras and Loxias.
Zaras was ready for them, and killed one with a straight thrust into her naked boyish chest. I killed the other with an arrow. At such close range the arrow whipped through her torso and shattered her spinal column as it came out between her shoulder blades. It struck bright sparks from the flint wall of the tunnel behind her. Both the female warriors went down without uttering a sound. We stepped over their corpses. Shoulder to shoulder Zaras and I raced down the tunnel. It was dimly lit by the smoking torches set in brackets on the side walls.
‘Toran says to take every turning to the left, or else we will be lost in the maze.’ Loxias was close behind me and she called over my shoulder.
I took three left turns in succession. Then I heard very faintly the sound of chanting echoing down the tunnel from ahead. It grew louder as we ran towards it. I made one more turn to the left, and suddenly I saw a glimmer of daylight ahead of us.
I cautioned Loxias and the rest of my men to remain where they were, then I moved forward with Zaras and Hui close on either side of me. The light grew brighter and then we turned one last corner.
There were two more viragoes blocking the tunnel ahead of us, but both of them had their backs turned to us. All their attention was focused ahead, and they were unaware of our presence. We crept up behind them. Zaras and Hui locked hands over their mouths to prevent them crying out, and then there was a quick flash of blades before both the women warriors sagged to the floor. We stepped over their bodies and found ourselves in a viewing balcony which had been hewn out of the living rock.
Twenty cubits or more below us gaped an enormous cavern which was lit by daylight streaming in through a pillared entrance in the facing wall. Through these portals we had another sweeping vista over the ruins of Knossos city and the wide bay to the peaks of Mount Cronus, which filled the horizon.
Directly below us was a spacious semi-circular arena. The floor was covered with fine white sand on which stood an altar fashioned in silver and gold. On the altar stood the golden statue of an aurochs bull that was wreathed with flowers and surrounded with smouldering pots of frankincense.
The arena and the altar were surrounded by tiers of stone benches.
The two lower tiers were filled with rows of black-costumed and high-hatted Minoan nobles. Their faces were powdered with white chalk and their eyes were lined with black kohl in the traditional fashion. All of them were motionless, staring down intently at the empty floor of the arena. Only their mouths moved as they chanted a mournful dirge.
I was astonished by how few of them there were. There had been several thousand in the harbour palace when Tehuti and Bekatha were wedded to the Minos. Gathered here today were fewer than fifty. The eruption and tidal wave must have taken a dire toll of the flower of Minoan society.
Behind these scant survivors rose another tier of seats, which were unoccupied. In the centre of this tier was a tall golden throne. This also was empty.
Directly behind the throne was the entrance to this subterranean temple. It was a cavernous opening which framed the distant prospect of Mount Cronus across the turbid waters of Knossos Bay. The twin volcanoes belched smoke columns which mounted to the skies and almost obliterated the sun, muting it to a dull yellow orb.
The balcony in which we crouched was so high above the floor of the arena that we were well above the eyeline of the audience facing us. We were also partially hidden behind long dark-coloured curtains, which hung from the roof of the cave to just above the sandy floor. Nevertheless I cautioned Zaras and Hui in a whisper to draw back into the shadows and sheathe their swords to prevent reflections of even this diffuse daylight betraying our presence in the temple.
No sooner had I spoken when two lines of priests dressed in their bull’s-blood-red robes filed in from each side of the amphitheatre. They took up their positions around the golden throne and their voices joined those of the nobles to fill the temple with mournful lamentation.
Then abruptly all sound was cut off and the heavy silence was more oppressive than the singing. The congregation groaned and as one they sank to their knees and pressed their foreheads to the marble tiles.
I was anticipating the appearance of the Supreme Minos, watching the empty throne with all my attention, expecting another theatrical stratagem. Yet even I was taken by complete surprise.
One moment the throne was empty, and the next the Minoan monarch was seated upon it with the frail and skeletal form of his mother at his side.
She was clad in her widow’s weeds, dark and unwholesome. He was resplendent in full regalia, towering over all his subjects, seeming to fill the cavern with his presence. His armour and his hideous bull mask of precious metals shot slivers of brilliant light into the shadows.
Martial music from a hidden orchestra filled the cavern with tumultuous sound, and the congregation cried out in a transport of idolatrous ecstasy.
The Supreme Minos raised his mailed right fist and the silence that gripped the cavern was complete, almost stifling in its intensity. Even the three of us in the balcony high above the arena were intimidated by it.
The Minos made another gesture and the congregation gave voice again. But this was a feral sound, filled with primitive rage. Then the curtains that hung from the roof of the cavern were drawn aside to reveal two barred doorways in the rock wall, one on each side of the amphitheatre. The voice of the congregation rose in a frenzy of anticipation. Even the red-robed priesthood joined in the clamour, but now there was a further element to it. The sound was no longer that of prayer and worship. It became a bellow of salacious arousal, of carnal lust and sadistic rapture.
Through the opening between the curtains marched a phalanx of green-clad viragoes. They wore tall headgear dressed with the brilliant plumage of the flamingo bird. Their raised shields were made from the cured skin of the crocodile, and they overlapped to conceal something in the centre of their formation. They reached the centre of the arena and halted. Then at some prearranged signal their ranks opened to reveal my princesses.
Tehuti and Bekatha stood holding hands and looking up at the screaming throng on the tiers above them in utter bewilderment. On their heads they wore wreaths of white roses.
But that was their entire raiment. Their bodies were entirely naked. They seemed very young, tender and almost childlike. The viragoes turned in unison and marched from the arena, leaving Tehuti and Bekatha standing alone.
The thunder of the congregation swept over my two darlings, and they trembled before it. The Supreme Minos rose to his feet and the uproar subsided into silence once more. He turned slowly so his golden mask faced the opening in the rear wall of the temple in which was framed the distant image of Mount Cronus, and his voice soared as he began an invocation to his god. I could not make out a single word of the bellows and animal howling which reverberated from within his helmet.
However, the sense of it was unmistakable, even more so when he drew from the bejewelled scabbard on his belt a massive bronze blade. It was as long as I am tall. He turned towards the two naked children on the sacrificial floor below where he stood.
Now for the first time I discerned the actual words he uttered, although even they were blurred by the mask that covered his head and garbled by the echoes thrown back from the walls of rock.
‘Dearly beloved Cronus! Cronus the first of all the gods! I am your son; the fruit of your loins; the flesh of your flesh and the blood of your blood. For a thousand years I have worshipped you. For a thousand years I have loved and obeyed you. Once again I stand before you to renew my vows. I bring you the sacrifice for which your divine soul craves. I bring you royal virgin blood to drink. I bring you royal virgin flesh to devour. Come forth in your earthly guise and partake of the feast I lay before you! Kill! Eat!’
He lifted the sword and stabbed it towards the barred gateway that faced Tehuti and Bekatha.
The double gates swung open but the interior beyond was in darkness. I stared into it but at first I could see nothing beyond the doorposts. Then something moved within: something so enormous and menacing that it defied my imagination.
Bekatha wailed and shrank against her elder sister, her face bleaching with terror. Tehuti placed her arm around her protectively; Bekatha clung to her with both arms. Both of them shrank back from the gateway.
A dense and palpable silence fell over the arena, and the entire world beyond. The rumbling thunder of the volcanoes was cut off abruptly. The earth beneath us was stilled. It seemed that even the great god Cronus was spellbound by the drama being played out in his own temple.
The silence was broken by the angry bovine snorts and the thud of great hooves on the sand-strewn paving. An aurochs bull charged through the gateway into the arena. He came to an abrupt halt as the sudden roar of the congregation struck him, and his front hooves ploughed into the sand and sent up a cloud of dust.