Near the junction of two roads outside the city, Hermione passed a convoy of animals and people as her palanquin bearers carried her once more towards the Temple Mansion. The road was constructed with a raised, paved centre section, a running line of flat slabs laid abreast, along which her palanquin proceeded with dignified haste. The paving was flanked on both sides by a somewhat lower dirt road, rutted with impressions made into drying mud, and soiled by the frequent passage of animals. The pack-donkeys were moving on the right-hand dirt track and the men leading them walked, where they could, along the raised pavement. As she approached the tail of this caravan, the leaders of the animals slowed and stepped down onto the dirt track to allow her to pass.
Hermione arrived at the steps of the Temple Mansion and dismounted, thanked her bearers and walked anxiously across the paved court towards the western entrance to the Temple. Outside the door, a huge man bowed slightly as she approached. The entrance was cool and shaded in the morning light. Hermione cast a passing glance towards the distant caravan of donkeys and oxen and used her key to let herself into the Temple. Once inside, removing her shawl, she followed a long and quite narrow corridor, decorated in a light blue floral pattern, turned a corner into another long passage, ascended a flight of stairs, through a hall and a lightcourt and climbed towards her room along a south-facing corridor high in the building.
As she passed a fresco of dolphins leaping in a scale-like foam, a shudder passed through the walls and columns, followed by a succession of shakes and vibrations, which dislodged a piece of blue plaster that fell with a knock onto the floor.
·
On the road near the Temple Mansion, a rubbing axle worried Orthedon and took his thoughts away from his breakfast. 'Two days to move this stuff down to Komo,' he thought to himself. He was normally a cheerful type, but his escort was worrying him also, and these two worries left him with little space to be cheerful. They were an unruly couple of youths, borrowed from the master of a ship whom he had not come across before, over at the Harbour Town. He had agreed to this contract at the end of a heavy meal and was suffering indigestion from the decision. And the earth tremors were getting worse.
'Stop!' he shouted.
'Stop!' he repeated. One of the youths turned around as though the command had applied specifically to him. The youth shouted back, words laden with impatient mockery, the concluding derogatory epithet unvoiced but, nevertheless, heard by all. Orthedon felt his anger at them rising, but controlled his reply.
'We will break for breakfast here, by this stream,' he shouted, turning his back on the two youths and addressing the line of people behind him. 'Unload the donkeys and let them drink.
'Cretheus. take Astor with you and unhitch the oxen.'
Breakfast was taken, although the sun was by now quite high in the sky and a lot of work had been done on a hot infusion and a flask of water; but breakfast it was. Wood was brought out for the embers in the fire pot to kindle, and the animals were attended to.
During the meal, of figs, raisins, almonds, milk and honey, flat bread, sheeps' cheese and a hot and aromatic infusion', an incident occurred which encapsulated to Orthedon the arrogance which he so disliked in the youths and men whose only concern seemed to be the preparation of their bodies for the murderous events of the annual Games; and in the case of these two youths it was untempered by any normal acceptance of servitude. The two youths had strolled up to a pack-donkey, removed a flask of watered wine which did not belong to them, and walked calmly off in the direction of the Temple Mansion. A trivial misdemeanour, but Orthedon, like his donkeys, could only put up with so many straws of trivia.
As the morning wore on, Orthedon began to regret having halted the convoy by the stream, so close to the western side of the Temple Mansion. But it had been useful to be able to water the animals and the axle had proved to require the attention he had feared it would.
The fact of their disappearance did not concern him. The youths' absence was a pleasure to most of the company, as it was to himself, and their job of protection was not important so close to the city. But they had not asked how long he planned to stay, nor taken leave to go, and now he was having to wait for them, while he chatted with the wheelwright. They probably regarded this journey as a waste of their time, as they were becoming a waste of his.
The wheelwright was recompensed for his trouble, the sun climbed, and the party remained two missing. Orthedon began to swear, which did nothing to hasten their appearance. He sent out a couple of men, not his most agile or quick-witted, to search in the direction in which they had disappeared, and when they came back soon afterwards with no sighting, he decided that he could wait no longer. The donkeys were already laden with their sacks and panniers and were starting to complain, and he was beginning to enjoy the idea that the two youths, Oileus and Glaucus were their names, may have gone back to the Harbour Town and to their ship.
Orthedon signalled the caravan forward and the work of transportation continued, two personnel short, more watchful but, curiously, more at ease.
·
Glaucus and Oileus had broken away from the caravan train and gone to the sacred alder grove to look at the small limestone temple beside the river. It was here that their ambitions lay. Oileus was surly, even to his would-be friend, and worried Glaucus, when they had finished the wine, by wanting to approach the Temple Mansion itself. Bronze-belted youths were forbidden to approach this building, a taboo instilled into them from an early age. The punishment for entry into the Temple Mansion was not death, surprisingly, for their caste, but disqualification; from the right to wear the thick bronze waistband. Castration and disqualification. A servant had to be obedient.
The two youths were wrestling on the flat area near the alder grove when a search for them was started. Although they were rather too old for this sort of play-acting, Oileus was very insistent. Glaucus began to get annoyed with him. He was, in fact, starting to get very bored with Oileus's company.
'Come on, let's get back,' said Glaucus, pulling away from a lunge at his neck.
'Let those simpletons wait for us!' Oileus replied and grappled Glaucus around his midriff, pushing him six steps further towards the Temple Mansion. 'Or are you scared?' He pushed Glaucus backwards again, until Glaucus dug a heel in and stopped his violent retreat. Finding a new purchase for his arms also, Glaucus flexed his back in order to lever away the unwelcome embrace, only to be ensnared in another one. Oileus was really starting to annoy him.
A young woman watched this display of athleticism from between the columns of a portico, high above the sloping ground. She had had a very anxious morning. In fact, she had had a very anxious few days. Theseus had not been to see her. She did not know why, and did not know where he was. She suspected that he was with that lady who had arrived with him from Athens. Theseus had told her that she was teaching him to read. They seemed to spend a lot of time together now in that courtyard that had all the balconies around it and Clitia was despondent and hurt. She was young and impatient.
She ran along a corridor, down steps, winding, twisting, through darkness, through light, through a door and outside into the bright morning, down the steps beside a rainwater fountain and lay on the ground in a heap.
Glaucus was the first to notice the shape lying upon the grass. He had begun a serious attempt to rid himself of Oileus, whose motives he could not fathom and did not trust. Oileus was taking them nearer and nearer to the Temple Mansion. Although finding himself in a tight head lock, Glaucus had managed to turn his adversary and prevent him from pushing any further towards the forbidden building. Then he became aware of the blue and white shape on the ground and as he focused his eyes away from the ugly and annoying proximity of Oileus, saw flesh colour in the shape. The obviously sightless intoxication of his friend became even more worrying.
'Stop. Stop, you idiot! Look over there,' he said, but did not allow Oileus to look. Instead, Glaucus lifted him onto his back, breaking a headlock and threatening a drop that would break the shoulder of his antagonist. The poised combatant recognised that the stakes had been raised suddenly, and relinquished his grip.
As they approached in the sunlight and the rising heat of morning, the prostrate form gave what sounded to Glaucus like a squeak.
'Are you alright?' he asked. There was no answer from the girl. Oileus took her arm and slapped it. A plaintive sound emerged from her lips. Glaucus bent over and put a hand onto her cheek. She gave no response. 'I'll go and summon a keeper,' he said. The girl opened her eyes.
'Please take me to a keeper,' she said.
'Inside, I will show you.'
The young woman led the two youths up a stepped path towards a door, the one from which she had emerged. As they neared the top, she gasped, let her knees go and allowed Glaucus to hold her tightly. Oileus had begun to distance himself from the situation. He looked nervously about, along the side of the Temple Mansion and then across towards the river.
'Come on, let's go,' he said. The Temple loomed over them.
'Please take me inside,' the girl whispered to Glaucus. Even such a dangerous request from a Lady of the Goddess was difficult for a young gallant to ignore.
'The keepers will reward you for helping me,' she added. Glaucus believed her. Oileus did not. He decided to run for it.
Glaucus opened the door and led the girl inside. She guided him along a winding passage. Soon, Glaucus was grateful to discover that her knees had recovered sufficiently well for her to walk unaided and was grateful also to discover that Oileus was gone. Seeing the young woman standing again, and looking as though her mind was in full control of her regained strength, he hesitated. But the young woman took his hand and, saying nothing, led him deeper into the labyrinth of the Temple. The speed of her recovery was phenomenal. She was running now!
They reached the end of a dark passage and followed another to the right. The light around them began to increase as they turned another right-hand corner, up a flight of stairs and Clitia pushed at a doorway beyond which the daylight shone brightly.
She motioned to Glaucus to stay still and then slipped through the doorway into the court. He glimpsed a beautifully decorated and furnished hall across the lightcourt, with balcony levels ascending high above it.
Glaucus wanted with all his heart to trust the girl, because he knew that if he could not trust her, he was in trouble so deep that it was unbearable to contemplate. Half his thoughts dwelt upon the explanation he would give to the keeper when he appeared, but a growing third now spun with the realisation that he was the object of this girl's purpose, whatever it could be. The grim remainder hung with terror over a bottomless void which grew wider with each moment. He had no alternative but to go with her, because if he was found alone, he was lost.
The young woman reappeared, took him by the hand again and led him into the lightcourt. Five storeys of balconies overlooked the sunlit court, supported by columns above the floor of a large hall. But the young woman had no desire for Glaucus to pause and admire the architecture. She rushed him between two fluted, downwards-tapering columns, into the hall, where an ornate ceiling, decorated with spirals, looked down upon them. Only one pair of feet made noise on the white gypsum floor.
'Take off your shoes,' the young woman demanded in a sharp whisper.
Glaucus obeyed.
She held them in one hand and continued to lead him with the other. Then she stopped. Footsteps. 'Quickly!' she rushed him back across the hall and across the lightcourt.
They stood again at the doorway into the lightcourt. As the footsteps echoed from the passage beyond the hall, Glaucus knew that the girl did not wish to be taken to anybody. An inner caution prevented him from making any noise, but his eyes shouted at her. She heard.
'I shall leave you,' she warned. The void in Glaucus's heart yawned even wider.
The footsteps continued into an inner, unseen wing of the hall and the young woman took a deep breath and led Glaucus through the doorway again and along the outer wall of the lightcourt, beneath the bright morning sky. They made it into a small passageway that lay in shadow, and then through a doorway onto a gypsum pavement. To the left was another hall, smaller than the last and visible behind rectangular columns and a low wall, and to the right of Glaucus lay another lightcourt behind two round columns. She stood absolutely still, listening. On the wall behind the rectangular columns was a fresco; large blue dolphins and small pink fishes against a pale blue background. She could hear nothing, except - Glaucus moved, he could wait no longer: 'What are you doing?' he pleaded in a whisper. 'Take me back outside!'
'I will,' she tried to look reassuringly at Glaucus, but failed.
'But not yet.'
She pulled at his hand and led him quietly across the court and into the hall of blue dolphins. The frond of an exotic grass in a pot near the entrance brushed against his arm and cut him as they crossed the line of columns which fronted the hall. He breathed in through clenched lips and the young woman put her hand across his mouth. And looked into his eyes. And took her hand away again, and kissed him.
To Glaucus it felt as if all his birthdays and his funeral had come at once.
They crossed the hall in twelve short paces and the girl opened a door that led into a darker corridor which twisted around to a flight of stairs. She paused at the foot of the stairway to listen. Faint voices came from above. She led Glaucus past the stairs into a hall of colonnades. In the centre of this hall lay a lightcourt with fronds of foliage and a large plinth in which stood the shaft of a huge double axe. Trailing about it was ivy. She stopped to listen again and then, with her hand tightly in his, broke into a run for a short distance and then darted with him into a passage which became darker and darker as they went. They walked for about twenty paces, each more carefully than the last, and as they turned a corner, darkness became blackness.