A short tale of a young man caught between two lovely but implacable adversaries.
All characters are, of course, at least 18 years old.
Please enjoy.
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Alexis walked softly in the night, navigating the narrow path as much by its feel under his unshod feet as by the faint starlight.
It was, he knew, unwise for him to be abroad at this hour. Strange things happened to young men after dark around here, everyone knew that. His cross-cousin Crios had vanished last year on his way home from a visit to his grandparents. And, on an equally dark night just two months ago, Silenos the hunter's son had left to set his rabbit nets and had not been seen since.
Worse, First Moon had set an hour ago, with Second Moon not due to rise for another hour. Alexis shivered in the darkness.
There was however little option open to him. Elder-Uncle's sickness had necessitated his help on the farm and he was due in the village school one hour after sunrise. Alexis had no wish to be thrashed again by the tutor for tardiness.
Leaves from the dense foliage on either side of the path brushed against the young man's bare legs, caught at the thin fabric of his chiton. Alexis moved gently to avoid making any more noise than necessary. In his heart, he longed for his upcoming Manhood ceremony, for that day would bring with it the right to carry weapons in self-defence. Until that day, he would be protected by the adult men of his tribe.
That protection was, Alexis often felt, more theoretical than practical. Elder-Uncle had for instance thanked him from his sick-bed, but with not overmuch concern for the boy's journey home. Such hazards, he had obviously felt, were part of growing up, something which served a valuable function in maturing a youth, preparing him for the truly dangerous realities of manhood.
Moreover, he knew, the white fabric of his chiton stood out in the dim starlight. It was at times like this that Alexis wished his family was not so well-off as to be able to afford the brilliant white Terra-linen his garment was made of. The shabbier, brown-grey fabrics made from local flora were far less noticeable in low light.
They take less time to keep clean, too,
he thought ruefully.
The boy was startled to hear a low sound behind him, as if a stone had been brushed off the path by an errant foot. He paused, his head turning back and forth, searching for something, anything in the blackness surrounding him.
Alarmed but not yet panicked, Alexis began to walk faster down the path. Second Moon would show its first light presently, but that would be too late if someone - or something - was on his trail.
The boy yelped softly at a sudden pain on his left buttock. It felt like a bee sting, but his swatting hand came down not on an angry insect but rather on a small dart, a tiny arrow.
Another suddenly stuck the young man on his right shoulder. Cursing, he swept it away as he began to run.
The dim light of the village could be seen around the next bend in the path and Alexis sprinted towards it in desperation.
Odd,
he thought a minute later.
Running shouldn't be making me this dizzy.
But the giddiness increased and he was soon barely capable of walking.
Staggering, Alexis fell to his knees, then to his stomach. His arms and legs seemed to refuse to serve him. He felt a great lassitude draw its dark cloak over him as he sank into a blackness twice as silent as the night.
When the youth awoke, he was alarmed to find himself spread-eagled on a narrow but sturdy wood table or platform, his wrists and ankles firmly tethered to the corners with heavy leather straps. He tugged on them, found them absolutely solid.
To his dismay, the boy noticed that he had been stripped of his clothing. His chiton was nowhere to be seen.
The windowless room was not large, perhaps six paces wide and half again as long. It seemed well-built, with a ceiling of dark timbers and walls of irregular but precisely-fitted smooth stones. Torches burning in all four corners provided the only light. Clean though the room was, the air seemed just the slightest bit dank or musty. That and the absolute silence suggested the room was well below ground level.
Beside him, on his right, were three low steps leading up to a slightly-raised flagstone platform, on which rested a stone throne of ancient design, cut from one solid piece of rock. Carved into the wall behind and above it was a surprisingly lifelike image of the Goddess. Breasts proudly bared, hair styled high in ancient fashion - this much was the standard representation, something to be seen in every temple and village shrine.
Alexis' stomach sank however at a new detail; both Her arms were now held stiffly out to Her sides, both clutching a handful of serpents, with the snake's heads pointing out towards the viewer.
Towards Alexis.
His heart sank further as he again thought of his village temple, for there also, in front of the carved image of the Goddess, rested an altar.
A sacrificial altar.
Surely not...
he thought to himself, in desperate self-reassurance.
His head flipped back and forth, but asides from stone and timber, all he could see was a ceiling-to-floor expanse of white linen drapery at one end of the room. He was puzzling over this when from beyond it came the low moan of a keras horn. Bitter, lonely, its sound made the boy shiver in spite of himself. No sooner had it died down than a priestess pushed through the linen curtain and entered the room.
The woman was in her mid-to-late 30s and dressed in a normal fashion for one of her order, which is to say jewelled sandals, an elaborate floor-length skirt and meticulous makeup. Her high, bare breasts were still firm and, under different circumstances, would have drawn at least a surreptitious glance from the youth. Here and now was a different matter.
Between her breasts, suspended from a silver necklace, the woman wore a curious pendant, a small knife, its blade circled several times by a serpent.
That in itself of course told him but little, for the inner affairs of the Goddess were - for very good reason - scrupulously avoided by all sane men.
The priestess ignored the bare body of boy laid out in front of her. Gracefully, slowly, she made her way to stand in front of and facing the Goddess' image. She curtsied very low in obeisance, held the pose for some seconds, then stood back up, turned and ceremoniously seated herself on the throne.