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Authors: Kerry Greenwood
Tags: Fiction, Historical
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Colchis that if the king dies in circumstances which could indicate poison or assassination, all his counsellors are executed by being stitched alive into an oxhide and hung in the willows. Eupolis would not dare meddle with the medicine, and would make sure that it was administered correctly.
Then we left the palace and came into the city, walking down the street which led us to Rivergate and the Grove of The Serpent, outside the walls.
I was apprehensive. Trioda spoke of the serpent as she, meaning that the creature was an avatar of Hekate, as were Kore and Scylla. But although my hounds were sacred, they were also dogs, prone to snap if startled and provided with strong teeth and haughty tempers. The serpent of the grove would also bear her original snaky nature when she was not possessed by Hekate. And women whispered that the serpent was as long as a riverboat and as wide as a door, that even to smell her breath was death, the guardian of the grove where hung the greatest treasure of Colchis, the Golden Fleece.
We took the path which wound through dripping marshes, where the dead men of Colchis hung in their oxhides. This was an eerie place, haunted by the piping of little unseen birds which, they said, were the voices of the dead, diminishing as the bodies rotted, until they were little but a squeaking in the reeds, which were once men and had men's voices.
It was also the haunt of midges and mosquitoes, eager to feast on human blood, and leeches as long as my finger, black with red stripes, which dropped from the willows and fastened in an eyeblink, plumping out on their stolen harvest in seconds.
They did not, of course, harm us. We were redolent of an essence of white summer daisies, sun-flowers dedicated to Ammon, and another oil derived from a certain fungus which belongs to the Dark Mother alone. If any insect were bold enough to ignore the repelling power of Ammon and bite us, it would instantly die.
'What was the potion, Mistress?' I asked Trioda, as we waded through the black water in the rising mist.
'Potion, daughter?'
'The queen required it of you,' I reminded her. 'Is she poisoning my father?'
'No,' said Trioda.
We walked a few paces. A year before I might not have persisted, but now I had more courage. I had saved my father's life and I was a woman of knowledge, about to meet the guardian of the serpent grove. Also I needed some words to break the silence as we walked amongst the bobbing dead in the stench of rotting flesh and marsh-water, the mist flowing around us.
'Then what is the medicine, Mistress? Does the queen suffer from some shameful ailment?'
Women's illnesses are indications of the disfavour of the Triple Goddess, and to placate the goddess it is essential to examine the state of mind of the woman. If she cannot conceive, for instance, she may have desired her stepson or a priest of Ammon, may have lusted to follow her own appetite - although there may be other reasons. A woman whose womb will not hold the quickening child may have blasphemed the goddess, cursing by Hekate at some domestic misfortune. Sacrifice and fasting will usually mend the fault, and the medicines of the skilled women of the temple. However, no woman would admit to illness before a man, lest she be shamed.
'Not precisely,' said Trioda. She held a bush aside for me as we took the winding path, almost invisible to the eye, towards the ilex grove.
'I am your acolyte, Mistress, your daughter. Tell me.'
'The queen of Colchis wants to live,' said Trioda after a long pause. 'If she bears a child, she will die. She cannot disobey the commands of the king your father to lie down under him and receive his seed, the black seed of Aetes. Therefore Eidyia, every month when the moon is gone, takes one drop of a certain potion.'
'What potion?' I watched a leech curl dead from my forearm and plop into the dark water.
'It is compounded in copper of fireweed and fungus of rye,' she said. I thought about it. The purple
Then we left the palace and came into the city, walking down the street which led us to Rivergate and the Grove of The Serpent, outside the walls.
I was apprehensive. Trioda spoke of the serpent as she, meaning that the creature was an avatar of Hekate, as were Kore and Scylla. But although my hounds were sacred, they were also dogs, prone to snap if startled and provided with strong teeth and haughty tempers. The serpent of the grove would also bear her original snaky nature when she was not possessed by Hekate. And women whispered that the serpent was as long as a riverboat and as wide as a door, that even to smell her breath was death, the guardian of the grove where hung the greatest treasure of Colchis, the Golden Fleece.
We took the path which wound through dripping marshes, where the dead men of Colchis hung in their oxhides. This was an eerie place, haunted by the piping of little unseen birds which, they said, were the voices of the dead, diminishing as the bodies rotted, until they were little but a squeaking in the reeds, which were once men and had men's voices.
It was also the haunt of midges and mosquitoes, eager to feast on human blood, and leeches as long as my finger, black with red stripes, which dropped from the willows and fastened in an eyeblink, plumping out on their stolen harvest in seconds.
They did not, of course, harm us. We were redolent of an essence of white summer daisies, sun-flowers dedicated to Ammon, and another oil derived from a certain fungus which belongs to the Dark Mother alone. If any insect were bold enough to ignore the repelling power of Ammon and bite us, it would instantly die.
'What was the potion, Mistress?' I asked Trioda, as we waded through the black water in the rising mist.
'Potion, daughter?'
'The queen required it of you,' I reminded her. 'Is she poisoning my father?'
'No,' said Trioda.
We walked a few paces. A year before I might not have persisted, but now I had more courage. I had saved my father's life and I was a woman of knowledge, about to meet the guardian of the serpent grove. Also I needed some words to break the silence as we walked amongst the bobbing dead in the stench of rotting flesh and marsh-water, the mist flowing around us.
'Then what is the medicine, Mistress? Does the queen suffer from some shameful ailment?'
Women's illnesses are indications of the disfavour of the Triple Goddess, and to placate the goddess it is essential to examine the state of mind of the woman. If she cannot conceive, for instance, she may have desired her stepson or a priest of Ammon, may have lusted to follow her own appetite - although there may be other reasons. A woman whose womb will not hold the quickening child may have blasphemed the goddess, cursing by Hekate at some domestic misfortune. Sacrifice and fasting will usually mend the fault, and the medicines of the skilled women of the temple. However, no woman would admit to illness before a man, lest she be shamed.
'Not precisely,' said Trioda. She held a bush aside for me as we took the winding path, almost invisible to the eye, towards the ilex grove.
'I am your acolyte, Mistress, your daughter. Tell me.'
'The queen of Colchis wants to live,' said Trioda after a long pause. 'If she bears a child, she will die. She cannot disobey the commands of the king your father to lie down under him and receive his seed, the black seed of Aetes. Therefore Eidyia, every month when the moon is gone, takes one drop of a certain potion.'
'What potion?' I watched a leech curl dead from my forearm and plop into the dark water.
'It is compounded in copper of fireweed and fungus of rye,' she said. I thought about it. The purple
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