Voyage of the Snake Lady (14 page)
Chapter Twenty-Six
Nonya’s Secret
M
YRINA LEFT TAMSIN
and Phoebe dancing with Katya, for she needed to be alone. She went into her tent and searched out her mirror. She knew that it would take time to bring her visions; her head buzzed and her heart was full of dread.
At first she tried to mirror gaze in the safety and privacy of the tent, but nothing came to her, not even a glimpse. So she went outside and wandered away from the laughing girls and the cropping horses, heading toward the stream. She found a spot where blue iris flowers bloomed in the marshy ground. She flung herself down on a rock, grateful that there was nobody about. The water rushed past her feet, soothing her spirits a little.
“Iphigenia first,” she murmured; she must see that her friend was still safe.
It took a while, but at last the sound of the stream made her eyes droop, so that the sight of her own face faded and she focused on the gentle sway of the flowers in the fading sun. The blue of the irises darkened to purple and then black, and at last they merged with the heavy, curling tresses of Iphigenia’s hair. The priestess sat by an open window overlooking the sea, high above the terrifying drop, but Iphigenia seemed unaware of the view; she was intent on pounding herbs in a small bowl and mixing in a little wine.
“She prepares a soothing potion for the mad boy,” Myrina whispered.
That was enough; it was all she needed to know. Iphigenia was safe and her own fears had fled with her concern for another.
She let the vision fade and caught a glimpse of Cassandra, who was sitting beside a bed, stroking the curly hair of the Mouse Boy. It seemed the princess’s unexpected role as a mother suited her well.
Then with a lurch of apprehension Myrina let her thoughts wander to the camp of the Moon Riders and Kuspada. What would she see there? Would the blacksmith have a young woman at his side? Might Kora have won him with her warmth and good humor? The camp seemed still and peaceful, but one man still sat huddled by the embers of the fire; he was wrapped in his cloak, a spear in his hand, keeping watch. It was Kuspada, his face tranquil but unsmiling; he was alone. She longed to call to him, to tell him how much she missed him and how lonely she felt. If only she’d allowed him to come along, she’d not be feeling so helpless and desolate now.
But then she forced herself to recognize that it was her very vulnerability that had helped her to gather so much information so quickly. It was almost as though a woman traveling with two children were invisible. Had Kuspada ridden here with her, she never would have spent the evening sitting in Nonya’s cave, learning so much as she listened to her terrible plans.
At last, reluctantly, she let the image of Kuspada fade, assuring herself that she’d really made a very good start. Subtlety was the answer; hope must lie in that. Nonya had confided in her and she might tell her more, even though it was hard to sit there quietly listening to the hateful things she said.
Myrina remembered how Hati used to tell her that to hunt a creature you must think as that creature. “You must understand what the creature needs, what it feels. Only then can you destroy it. You will be left with a great sense of sadness and respect for the vanquished one and that is only right.”
“Yes,” Myrina answered, as though her grandmother had whispered in her ear.
She knew that she must struggle to understand Nonya; only then could she hope to change her foul plans. Nonya and her grandchild had suffered great injustice—she must acknowledge that.
She sighed again, then rose to her feet and walked back to the camp, swinging her mirror in her hand. All was not lost. She must keep her nerve and let her snakelike sense tell her when to seize the moment.
The girls had settled in their tent and the camp was silent now, though Myrina thought she saw the glimmer of Nonya’s white face still watching at the mouth of the cave. Did the woman never sleep? She crawled inside and snuggled close to Tamsin, wrapping her arm around the sleeping child. She shut her eyes, her spirits light enough now to allow her to sleep.
In the morning Myrina set off into Tauris again, this time taking Moonbeam, the silver-white mare, whose coat gleamed from the comb. Katya and the girls followed on foot, dressed alike and full of energy, ready to dance again. That day they earned more coins; but even better, they attracted a fine crowd who examined the silver mare with admiration. Myrina was just about to sell her to a fellow who offered her a good price and wanted a mount for his daughter, when a young man arrived on horseback, dressed in the royal livery.
“Ledus,” Katya whispered. “The king’s ostler.”
The first buyer looked disappointed at Ledus’s approach, and without even waiting to hear whether Myrina would accept his offered price, he backed away, allowing the ostler to come forward.
“Bring the mare to the palace!” Ledus told Myrina after only the most cursory inspection.
The certainty of obedience and the condescension in his voice grated on Myrina, but she knew that she could not afford to give offense, so with a warning glance at the girls she took hold of Moonbeam’s halter and started to lead the mare toward the palace gates.
The girls followed for a little way, but then Katya stopped, her brow drawn tight with worry.
Myrina saw that there was something wrong when she looked back to check on them. She stopped and waited for them to catch up. “What is it?”
Katya spoke low, under her breath. “No one has recognized me while I’ve been with you. Nobody has called me witch. But they know me better in the palace, and Thoas—he will recognize me.”
Myrina quickly understood. She’d been puzzled at the familiar way in which Katya and her grandmother sometimes spoke of the king. It was one of the things she wanted to ask about, but she had been afraid of seeming to pry.
“Go back to our camp and wait for me there,” she told them, thinking that maybe it was best for the girls to be safe by the tents and horses.
They turned willingly enough, aware that the situation might be delicate, and marched away together, Phoebe leading Tamsin protectively by the hand, leaving Myrina to follow the guards through the palace gates.
She and Moonbeam were led into a paved courtyard, where she was asked to put the mare through her paces. As she trotted around the enclosed space she glanced upward and saw that King Thoas watched from a balcony. She urged Moonbeam to canter, then demonstrated the reliability of the horse by swinging her legs down to touch the ground briefly on one side, immediately springing back over Moonbeam’s haunches to repeat the trick on the other side. All the while the beautiful silver mare pranced steadily on and Myrina resisted the temptation to show what she could really do, fearful that King Thoas might see through her claim to be an ordinary Sinta widow woman.
When at last Moonbeam slowed to a walking pace, the king came down from the balcony, solemn as ever, but nodding his head. “Yes,” he said. “This mare is just what I need for a special gift. No woman could resist her grace and beauty.”
Myrina slipped to the ground and bowed at his approach. “Any of your wives must delight in such a steed,” she agreed.
The king shook his head. “This is for one who is not my wife, but I hope she may still be persuaded . . . This mare is for the priestess Hepsuash!”
Myrina’s heart thundered. Maybe Maa had taken a hand in this! If she snatched at this bit of luck, it might bring her the chance to be admitted to the temple. “I could deliver the mare for your majesty.” She spoke quickly, hardly daring to breathe in case she gave her eagerness away.
The king nodded, looking thoughtful for a moment, and Myrina believed that her craftiness had worked; but then he shook his head, thinking better of it. “No. This is one gift that must be delivered in person.” He beckoned Ledus over to him. “We shall go at once!”
Myrina bowed meekly, but her heart sank at the missed opportunity.
Ledus gave her a purse of gold coins, and the very weight of it told her that she had been more than well paid. She left the palace on foot with her heart in her boots, while King Thoas set out on his stallion for the temple, leading Moonbeam by a silver halter. Myrina wandered back through the streets, blundering up a blind alleyway, miserable and frustrated. She had come so close to being allowed into the temple. Despite a few more wrong turnings, her Moon Rider’s instincts at last led her back to Big Chief’s corral.
The girls were impressed by the payment, but they quickly sensed that Myrina was disappointed and tired. Katya tried to offer comfort the best way she knew: “Grandmother says eat with us—she has set up a spit and is roasting shoulders of goat that we bought from our dancing today!”
Myrina forced herself to bow with courtesy and thank the girl.
That night, as the girls danced in the rosy light of the setting sun, Myrina sat by the stern old woman and listened well. She came to understand that Nonya had been a friend to Thoas’s mother, who’d died when he was very young. Katya had played as a child with the young Thoas, and it had long been the old priestess’s plan that her granddaughter might become not only priestess of Artemis, but also one of the king’s wives, and maybe even queen.
“Is it the custom in Tauris for a woman to be priestess and wife?”
“Oh yes,” Nonya answered indignantly. “Any woman is honored to be a wife of the king! Don’t you moon priestesses marry?”
Now it was Myrina’s turn to look sad as Tomi’s face swam in front of her eyes. “We Moon Riders would give up our role as priestess after seven years and then we would choose ourselves a husband.”
“You would choose a husband?” Nonya’s eyebrows shot up in surprise.
They sat in silence for a while as Nonya contemplated this surprising possibility.
“Did Katya wish to marry Thoas?” Myrina asked.
“Huh! They were the closest of friends as little children, and fought and exchanged insults. Now he has deserted us, she cannot find a good word for him, but . . . I think without Hepsuash . . .”
Myrina sighed; there was so much to weigh up and think about, but she did not want the conversation to dwell yet again on the deep resentment Nonya felt toward Hepsuash. “I have been thinking about your troubles,” she said, “and I would like to see a way to help. What would you say if Hepsuash were to disappear?”
“She will disappear beneath the waves and I will see to it!” Nonya spat back.
Myrina suppressed a sigh; she’d been too forthright. She sat quietly for a moment then tried again. “But what if Hepsuash were to leave quietly and willingly of her own accord?”
Nonya thought for a moment, then shook her head. “He wouldn’t let her go; there is only one way—she must die!”
Myrina tried a slightly different approach. “But how could you reach her? She is guarded day and night!”
Nonya’s answer took her breath away. The old woman gave a sly smile and bent to snatch up the beautiful golden cup. “How do you think I came by this?” she said, twirling it around in her fingers so that it gleamed with rich colors in the fading light. “It came from the temple of Artemis. They have cast me out, so they think, but the priestesses kept their own secrets and passed them on, mother to daughter. I can go in and out of that temple at will. It will only take me a moment to overcome that little weakling Hepsuash!”
Myrina found it hard not to smile at the thought; weak though she might appear to be, Iphigenia was warrior trained and no coward. But she must ignore the question of that threat in order to find out more about this startling revelation. “A secret way?” she murmured.
“Ha! A very secret way!”
Myrina’s head was spinning again. If she could use this secret way to get into the temple and speak to Iphigenia, it would solve all her problems. If she had the horses ready, they could simply leave and ride away together. Awareness slipped into her sharp, snakelike mind. She should have asked herself why the old woman sat in the mouth of the cave day and night. Why she sent her granddaughter to beg, while she stayed here like an ancient stone guardian. Was the cave itself the secret entrance to the temple?
T
HE REVELATION OF
the old woman’s secret sent Myrina’s thoughts spinning wildly; she must find patience. She deliberated for a moment, then went back to her first line of attack.
“Supposing Hepsuash were unhappy in the temple,” she persisted. “After all, she has not chosen to be priestess. Maybe she longs to get away and would willingly go.”
Nonya frowned and said nothing.
Myrina tried again. “It seems Hepsuash does not wish to marry the king.”
Nonya’s answer came back at once. “She is a fool!”
Myrina’s forbearance was wearing thin. “If Hepsuash holds such a sway with King Thoas, she could appoint a new priestess in her place! Such a one could be you!”
Nonya stared at her with disbelief. “Now
you
are the fool! You think Hepsuash would help me? Give me my rightful place again?”
“Yes—why not?”
Nonya scowled and scratched her head in puzzlement. Myrina saw the old woman’s terrible confusion. It was as though she briefly glimpsed a time long gone, a time when generosity had not been so difficult a thing to imagine.
“Hepsuash help me?” she muttered, as though asking herself if such a thing could be possible.
Myrina sensed that she had made a tiny movement in the right direction, but feared that if she pushed it further she might lose everything. “Think about it,” she said.
She got up to leave, thanking her hostess courteously.
Nonya acknowledged her with an absentminded nod. “Hepsuash . . . ?” She repeated the question, but this time she seemed to find the answer. “Yes. Thoas might listen to Hepsuash!”
A smile touched the corner of Myrina’s mouth as she walked through the meadow; she felt sure that she had managed to shift the ground—just a tiny bit.
That night she sat out by the stream, mirror gazing with the aid of a bright, waxing moon. She was cheered by the sight of Iphigenia wandering down to the temple stables to stand in the straw and stroke the silky silver mane of Moonbeam. She felt sure that Iphigenia had recognized Moonbeam as a Mazagardi-trained steed. Agamemnon’s daughter had lived as a Moon Rider for many years and knew well the secret Mazagardi calls that would make a horse obey her every command. Such a skill might prove useful.
The following day Myrina led her remaining five mares into Tauris and succeeded in selling one to the patient man who had wanted to buy Moonbeam the day before. She didn’t feel that she needed the money—Thoas had already paid her so well; it was more that she needed something to distract herself with so that she wouldn’t dwell on the dangers of what she meant to do that evening. What she planned might go very wrong, but there were only two days now before the night of the full moon and she felt that she must act. What would Iphigenia do, faced with the dreadful choice between marrying Thoas and killing the two young men? The Snake Lady must persuade Nonya to trust her.
By the time the sun started to sink she had sold the other mares and set off back to the camp. They shared their meal with Katya and her grandmother, just as they had the night before, and when the girls stood up to dance, Myrina took a deep breath and prayed to Mother Maa that the goddess would guide her tongue.
Nonya leaned back against the cave wall, warmed by her fire and sated with food, looking as content as it was possible for her to look.
This was the moment to speak, Myrina told herself. “You have made us most welcome here,” she said. “I cannot thank you enough. Though we were strangers you made us welcome. Tell me why?”
Nonya looked across at her, surprised but still good-humored. She shrugged and mumbled one word: “Kindness,” she said. “You gave us kindness when those who were not strangers showed us only cruelty.”
Myrina was pleased with the answer, but she still had a long way to go and dared not allow her determination to slip away. “You let your granddaughter go into Tauris with me; you trusted that she would be safe.”
“Yes?” Nonya frowned, uncertain what this might mean.
“Do you trust me?” Myrina asked, fixing the old woman with a straight and steady gaze.
There was a pause, but then Nonya answered her with a touch of irritation. “Yes.”
“Then I shall put my trust in you, though it may be a very dangerous thing for me to do.”
“What do you mean?” The old woman was alert now. She was no fool.
“When you asked who I was and where I had come from, I told you only part of the truth.”
There was no surprise. “I knew that!”
“Now I tell you the whole truth.”
“Well?” Nonya leaned forward to listen, her eyes bright with interest.
Myrina made the sign of Maa behind her back. “Hepsuash . . . is a Moon Rider,” she admitted. “A lost priestess of Maa, just like me. She is my friend and I have come to take her far away from here.”
Nonya raised her eyebrows, but not a muscle of her mouth moved.
“If you take me into the temple by your secret way, I swear that I will bring her back at once and she and I will ride away. But more than that . . . if you wish it, I will make sure that she instructs the king to reinstate you in her place.”
Nonya still did not speak, but her eyes narrowed in thought.
“Will you help?”
There was silence between them, and Myrina found it hard to breathe as she waited for a reply.
At last the old woman spoke. “If you play me false in this, you will be my sworn enemy for life.” The threat in Nonya’s voice left no doubt that she meant what she said.
“I will not play you false,” Myrina told her with unflinching certainty.
The old woman stood up and frowned at the girls, who were swaying happily out on the grass, chinking Katya’s finger cymbals in a steady rhythm. “I would not take my granddaughter along—there may be danger in this.”
Myrina nodded in complete agreement. “Nor will I take my girls! The three of them may stay here.”
“Hostages against treachery,” Nonya suggested, her eyes dark with sinister meaning.
“Yes,” Myrina said. “We go when night falls? I will come back to you.”
Myrina walked back to her tent and at once began to pack her bundles so that their camp would stand in readiness to be moved should she manage to return with Iphigenia. As the sun began to vanish below the horizon, she called Tamsin and Phoebe over to her and explained what she was about to do.
“We come with you, Snake Mother,” Tamsin insisted.
“No.” Myrina was ready for this. “You and Phoebe must stay here and watch the horses and the camp. We may need to leave at once when I return. Call Katya over—she may sleep here with you.”
But Katya’s eyes were bright with a sense of responsibility as she ran through the grass to speak to them. “Grandmother says that I must guard the entrance to the sacred cave.”
“We will all guard it,” Phoebe told her.
Myrina nodded. “Then we shall pack up the tent.”
Big Chief gave a low whicker of concern as she issued the Mazagardi order to stand guard over their neatly rolled goods, then they all walked back through the darkness to the cave. Nonya lit two tapers from the glowing embers of her fire and the girls settled down together in the cave mouth, wrapped in warm Sinta sleeping bags.
“Ha! Now we will see what trust will mean.” The old woman’s eyes glinted in the light of her taper, and Myrina bit her lip, praying that she did right to take this action.
Nonya led the way deep into the recesses of the cave until they came to a place where the rocky sides narrowed and it was impossible to see a way ahead. The light from the tapers cast dark shadows that shook and shimmered as they moved. It seemed they were making their way toward a blank rock face, but Myrina followed the old woman, confident that she knew what she was doing. They continued toward a dark cleft that looked far too narrow for a person to pass through, and Nonya chuckled at the expression of consternation on her companion’s face. “Once through this narrow gateway, you will see the sacred way.”
Myrina could not believe her eyes as Nonya attempted to slide into the narrow space, but suddenly the old woman vanished and it was only when she put her own face up close to the gap that she saw how cleverly it worked. The narrow split in the rock was just wide enough for one fairly slender person to squeeze through to the left; then she must turn sharply to the right, where the rock sides opened up again like the shell of a whelk.
Once through this narrow twist and turn, Myrina saw in the flickering light of the tapers that they stood in a good-sized natural cave with plenty of headroom; beyond it was a passageway where neat, even steps had been cut.
“Ha! Now you see my secret way!”
“How long has it been here?” she asked.
“It is older than the ancient priestesses . . . older than time.”
Myrina could believe it, for as they began to ascend the steps she saw that they were worn with the passage of many feet but still quite easy to climb, each step well spaced. Nonya led the way and Myrina followed, her heart beating fast.
“Prepare yourself for an uphill journey!” the old woman warned. “The sacred way is long and the temple is high!”
Myrina knew that must be true. They plodded onward, around many sharp bends. In some places the roof came down so low that they could stretch up a hand to touch it. It was as though a natural passageway had been worked on and widened wherever it was needed.
Nonya’s breathing grew harsh as the steps rose higher and higher.
“Stop for a rest,” Myrina advised.
“We . . . are almost there,” the old woman gasped. “I . . . know every twist and turn of it.”
“I see that you do!”
At last the sacred way leveled out and the sound of muffled voices could be heard, as the temple guards grumbled at each other through the night to keep themselves awake.
“The slaves will be sleeping,” Nonya whispered.
“Where will we come out?” Myrina asked, fearful that Nonya would emerge first and attack Iphigenia.
“In the priestess’s chamber; she, too, will be asleep by now.”
“But . . . my friend must have discovered this secret.”
Nonya laughed. “That I do not think!”
“Why?”
“You will see. Here is where the passage ends.”
They had come up against a solid stone wall, but Nonya put out her hand and felt carefully. She counted to six under her breath and then moved two along. “This is it!”
She threw her weight forward, and with a slight grating sound the stone that she pressed against gave a little. Myrina quickly understood and reached forward to help as the stone pivoted smoothly, leaving a gap just wide enough for one person to climb through.
“Let me go first?” she begged.
“Huh! So much for trust!” Nonya grunted. She blew out her tapers and bent her head to climb through the space with surprising alacrity. Myrina hurriedly struggled through after her, hampered by the sudden darkness. The hole was hidden behind a heavy wall hanging that swung in her face, restricting her movement, but she quickly fought her way past it and stepped out into a fine bedchamber lit by an oil lamp.
Her worst fears had not been realized, for the old woman stood blinking in the dimly lit chamber and coughing at the smoke from her tapers. Iphigenia was awake and sitting on the balcony that overlooked the steep drop down to the sea. Now she rose shakily to her feet, alarmed at the sight of Nonya in her room.
Myrina quickly strode forward to greet her, arms wide open.
“Snake Lady!” Iphigenia cried. “It is you! I knew you were close by!” They hugged each other tightly. “But what and how . . . ?”
“There is no time to lose,” Myrina told her. “We can leave at once! You must remember Nonya, who was priestess here before you. She has a secret way in and out of the temple, and I have promised her that we will see her reinstated. You must leave a message for the king ordering him to return her to her position as priestess in your place.”
“I would willingly do so,” Iphigenia said. “But . . . there is something . . .”
“What?” Myrina asked. She did not like the way Iphigenia’s face had clouded over at the mention of leaving. “You cannot wish to stay!”
