Island of Fire (The Age of Bronze) (12 page)

“Since that terrible day,” the former charioteer went on in measured tones, “many sacred mountains and rivers have claimed the honor of being foremost in holiness. Yes, I have heard of Dálo,” he nodded at Tushrátta, “even if others have not. But the god of that island is Apulúno, as you must admit. He is an Assúwan deity, and, as such, has no love for Ak’áyans. So we cannot petition him for advice. If we traveled north, instead, and visited Put’ó, the Assúwans and Kanaqániyans among us would be disregarded by the Ak’áyan goddess whose sanctuary that is. For that matter, Aláshiya is as favored as any land, crowded though it may be. But, again, it is the lady of the poppy who holds sway there. Sháwushka would never bless Ak’áiwiya’s people.”

“That is true enough,” Ainyáh muttered, kicking at the dry soil. “But her name is Astárt and she saves her blessings for Kanaqán.”

“We might as well send gifts to the Divine Ram of Mízriya as seek guidance from Dálo, Put’ó, or Aláshiya,” the Lakedaimóniyan continued. “We are a group from many nations, who worship many gods. No site and no oracle could possibly please all of us. I say, each man should make whatever offering he can to his favorite divinity and do as that god and his own heart bid him. If that means that we part company, then so be it.”

“No!” Dáuniya cried sharply, surprising them all, as she stepped forward to wrest the speaker’s staff from the startled man. There were angry rumbles all around as the woman took center stage. Staring hard at those whose disapproval was loudest, she countered their objections before they had a chance to voice them. “I know that Ak’áyans and Assúwans do not listen to women in their assemblies. But think about this. In every village, who is it that the people turn to when a marriage is to be arranged? Who is it that the people turn to when a man is about to go off to war and needs a protective blessing? Who banishes the
lámiya
when a baby will not thrive or grow? Who knows the spell that sends the plague away? It is always the old woman of the village, the wise woman! Is that not so?”

The Ak’áyans looked at one another and began to nod. Tushrátta shrugged. “True enough,” he answered. “Even the Náshiyan emperors consulted the old, wise women.”

Ainyáh was visibly torn. He ground his teeth and balled his fists. But, at Dáuniya’s severe look, even he had to agree. “Very well, we will hear what you have to say, even though you are a woman. This time, anyway.”

“We must go north, then,” Dáuniya announced firmly and quickly. “Sail to the place most sacred to the
P’ilístas
and visit the sanctuary at Put’ó. Every Ak’áyan must be satisfied if the priestess there gives my homeland her blessing. Then we will go still further north, to the last free kingdom of Párpara. I have heard Ainyáh say that the nomad tribesmen now have a Tróyan king.”

The eyes of every adult turned, in surprise, to the mercenary for confirmation. Ainyáh’s own eyes disappeared in leathery folds as he squinted at the sky. Beside him, his son shifted uncomfortably and focused his own gaze on the ground. Neither spoke.

“Wait.” Tushrátta shook his shaggy head before the woman could continue. He spoke with an intensity of feeling that none of the others had seen him show before. “I do not know of any place called Bárbaro or any Tróyan king in such a place. As far as I know, Tróya’s royal family all died long ago, in the war over the ‘Elléniyan queen. I heard that a single prince survived by the name of Érinu, but he and his brother’s widow were carried off into Ak’áyan captivity as slaves to some northern king. Still, the last I heard, that country had been overrun by T’rákiyans. I know that to be true because I made the mistake of landing there, this spring. I can tell you this for certain. There is no such thing as a Great King of T’ráki. There are any number of petty chiefs among them, but no man rules them all, Tróyan or otherwise. Those former slaves are probably all dead by now.”

When the faces of the crowd turned back to Dáuniya, she went on. “I mean you no disrespect, Tushrátta, but you do not know the whole story. Let me explain. The Párpariyans are what the Ak’áyans call the people who lived in all of Ak’áiwiya in ancient times, before ever the Ak’áyans came to this land. They have no kinsmen in T’ráki, but call themselves the brothers of some of the Assúwans, the People of the Divine Horse. I do not know how it came to be, but the Tróyan prince Érinu, the very one of whom you speak, is now free and he rules the Párpariyan heartland, west of the northern Ak’áyan kingdom of T’eshalíya. This Érinu was a priest in Tróya, long ago, a servant of the god Apúluno, the Assúwan god of gates.”

While Ainyáh steadfastly refused to speak, he nodded silently, confirming the woman’s story.

Tushrátta nodded, too. “That much is certainly true. I remember Érinu. He was a priest and an honest one, who served Apúluno well and faithfully. If he is still alive and rules, as you claim, I would be willing to visit his city and consult him about our destination. And if he rules the People of the Divine Horse, then I should be welcome there. Many years ago, my own father served the Lady of Horses in Assúwa, Pirinkár.”

Smiling confidently, Dáuniya spoke further. “Then we will consult Érinu after we leave Put’ó. Everyone should be satisfied after that, Assúwans and Kanaqániyans, as well as Ak’áyans. If both divinities, Diwiyána and Apúluno, bid us to sail west, then that is where we will go. If the gods tell us to divide our party, then we must obey them. But if the divinities bid us stay together, then together we must remain. Whatever the gods say, everyone must accept their directives as final. However it turns out, there must be an end to this interminable arguing!”

A moment of embarrassed silence followed, as the men and women looked at one another, taking in the idea. Suddenly, they began talking all at once. It was agreed. After months of endless bickering, they had finally discovered a decision that was acceptable to everyone. With that solution to the impasse that had prevented any action for so long, Ainyáh quickly asserted his leading role, and, under his direction, the people began preparing for the long journey. The small fishing boats that had previously ferried Ainyáh’s men to the shore were dragged from the land to the shallow waters of the bay. Back and forth, the man paddled and poled the vessels, carrying the travelers’ meager supplies to the three large ships in the harbor. At the same time, the women collected as much water as they could from the dying stream on the mountain. At dawn the following morning, they would row them out to the deeper water, one last time, and board the ships to sail north.

“Have you noticed anything odd about Diwoméde?” Dáuniya asked Mélisha, as they plodded down the hillside, bearing jars of muddy water on their heads.

The older woman pursed her lips, considering. “If I had not served him once, myself, I would not believe he had ever been a
qasiléyu
,” she admitted. “But, I can see nothing really wrong with him.
Ai
, there are the marks on his back, but those are healing well enough. Of course, there are the older scars, too, his shoulder, his foot. I would imagine that those trouble him somewhat, as well. They always will, I imagine. But something more must be ailing him, or he would not act this way.”

“That is what I thought,” Dáuniya agreed, furrowing her brow with anxiety. “Do you think that it is the Evil Eye?”

Mélisha pondered that a moment. “It is possible. If only we had bit of fresh onion to put with his bread, or a little garlic.” She sighed. “If we were not leaving so soon, we could leave a cup of sea water out and wait until nothing but the salt was left. New salt is really the best treatment for the Evil Eye, you know. But, I do not think that Ainyáh will allot us any extra shares of the salt that we prepared earlier.”

Dáuniya did not turn her head, but glanced at her companion out of the corner of her eye. “There is something else that we might try. I have been thinking about this all day, Mélisha. It must have been the
wánasha
of Argo who sent this trouble to Diwoméde. She is a priestess, you know, and she always hated our
qasiléyu
. Her magic is very powerful, I am sure. But, if we could just turn the harm back on her, surely he would become well again.”

The other woman frowned. She was silent for a long time as they tramped over the steep, dusty path. When T’érsite’s dilapidated hut came into view below them, she spoke. “You may be right. Queen Lawodíka certainly cared nothing for our master, since he was her father’s bastard. She thought little enough of her own husband, for that matter, competing for power with her as he did.
Ai
, the poor man! That was such a dreadful way to die, the poison spreading slowly through his body from the wound in his leg! He suffered so much, I think that he was glad to die in the end. And never an offering did that wife of his make to the gods for the health of his spirit after he was gone! What a disgrace that was! Yes, she was a cold and heartless woman. I can well believe that she invoked Díwo’s Evil Eye against our good
qasiléyu
.”

“Then you will help me?” Dáuniya asked, hopeful but a bit frightened.

“
Ai
, but what can we do to the great and powerful
wánasha
that we have not done already?” Mélisha asked, deeply troubled. “When Lawodíka was in labor with her royal child, did we not sit outside her door with our arms and legs crossed, to slow the birth? We knotted strings beneath the bed, ahead of time, and braided our hair to make the birth more difficult, did we not? But she bore her babe after only a day of trouble and no more, just the same. Clearly, her influence on the gods is stronger than ours.”

The younger woman stopped, halting Mélisha with a hand on her arm. “But she had a son, did she not, instead of the girl that she wanted.
Ai
, she was so disappointed! That meant her child could not rule Argo, by the ancient laws of Diwiyána, laws that she used to keep her own brother out of the kingdom.”

“You are not saying that it was you who chose the sex of the queen’s baby, are you?” Mélisha asked, clearly believing that it was not possible.

Dáuniya was defensive.
“Ai
, no,” she admitted, “but, do you remember that she found a mirror in her bed chamber the following morning?”

“Remember! How could I forget?” the older woman cried. “She threatened to have us all beaten within a finger’s-breadth of our lives for endangering her and the baby in that way! But who could have known that such a powerfully magical object would be hidden among her personal possessions?”

Dáuniya smiled strangely. “Who indeed!” Then she covered her mouth and glanced anxiously down the slope, toward the hut, putting a hand to the heavy water-jar on her head, to keep it from falling. There was no sign that the men about the fire, below, had noticed them. Whispering, she continued, “I was the one who put the mirror there. I suspected that she would try to cast the Evil Eye on my beloved Diwoméde. She was vulnerable to evil influences at that time, because of the birth, you know. I thought that if she saw herself in the mirror at that time, the bronze would reflect her own evil back upon her own soul. At first, I thought that I had succeeded, because of the disappointing sex of the child. That was only a little while before her cousin marched on the palace to depose her, too.”

Mélisha gasped, thinking back on those half-forgotten moments. “Yes, you might have had an effect, at that.” She swallowed hard, somewhat awed at the idea. Shaking away her misgivings, she added, “Still, the queen’s link with the divine is strong. She was able to rally her own followers and keep the throne. Argo’s little islands may have been lost, but that was of very little consequence in the end.”

“How can you say that?” Dáuniya cried, shocked at her companion’s attitude. “It is a matter of very great consequence! Are you not the one who told me that Argo’s holiest sanctuary is on the top of Aígina’s mountain?”

“
Ai
, at one time that was so,” Mélisha whispered, pressing her lips thin with displeasure. “But Agamémnon’s murderer worshipped there. So the place is defiled now. That means that the loss of the island was not such a great loss, after all. In fact, so great was the defilement caused by the regicide that, if it were not for Lawodíka’s rank as high priestess, all of Argo would surely be barren now.”

That troubled Dáuniya and she paused again on the downhill path. “All of Argo…”

“What is the matter with you, girl?” Mélisha snapped. “What does this matter when it is the
qasiléyu
who is ailing?”

Her younger companion hesitated before answering. “Promise me that you will never breathe a word of this to any living soul.”

“
Ai
, breathe a word of what?” the other woman demanded, striding onward. “That we tried to do harm to Argo’s queen? Everyone here already knows about that. The women know, at any rate. Besides, we failed, did we not?”

Dáuniya stepped closer and whispered in Mélisha’s ear, “I stole the mirror out of Lawodíka’s chamber after she had looked in it.”

Her companions’ large eyes widened and she quickly made the gesture that turned back the Evil Eye. “Then it must have caught her soul! By all the gods, what did you do with it?” she gasped.