Cassandra. Kerry Greenwood

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СКАЧАТЬ had once found him in the goddess' shrine, seated with his tail wrapped around his paws, staring into the eyes of the sacred serpents, who also sat coiled and apart. Divine creatures recognise each other's divinity.

      `Tell us a story,' we begged, keeping a wary eye on Státhi who might scratch if we disturbed him. Hector stared up at the starry sky. It was summer, and hot in the palace below, It was cooler on the roof, where there is always a breeze.

      `I've been unloading ships all day,' he said sleepily. `What sort of story?'

      `About us.'

      `About Troy.'

      Hector sighed - our chins rose and fell with his breath - and said, `Do you see those stars? The shape like a square, over there?'

      `We see them,' said Eleni, speaking for both of us.

      `Once in the Troad, before this city was built, there was a king who had a beautiful child.'

      Státhi, liking the sound of Hector's voice, settled down into a crouch. We snuggled closer to our brother's sides and wrapped the folds of his cloak around us all.

      `The child's name was Ganymede,' said Hector. Like his hair, his voice was golden, slightly husky and sweet on the ear. He continued, `The child was so beautiful that the god himself wanted him as a lover, so he sent an eagle down to the house of Tros and the eagle of the gods took the child up into the air, high as the sky, and brought him to the god. There he was much beloved, until the god's other lover, a daughter of the goddess, grew jealous. Then the father, to save the child, lifted him higher into the cosmos and placed him among the stars. They call him Aquarius, the water-bearer.'

      `And is he happy?' I asked. `Wouldn't he rather be a prince of Troy like you? Didn't his mother and father cry for him?'

      `They gave Tros and his wife two great horses - the mother and father of the horse herds of Troy.'

      `But they were horses, not a son,' said Eleni, echoing thought.

      `Gods will not be denied, twins,' said Hector gently. `When a god requires a life, then it cannot be denied. All people can do is make the best bargain they can.'

      `Could an eagle come and carry us off?' Eleni asked anxiously. Everyone told us that we were beautiful, and we were twins, too - that might attract a god's notice. Hector laughed so much that he jolted us off his chest. He hugged us close and sat up, groaning, much to the displeasure of Státhi.

      `An eagle could not possibly carry you off,' he said, rubbing at his chest where our chins had rested. `You are much too heavy for one poor eagle.'

      We were comforted by this, and we all drifted off to sleep.

      II

      Diomenes

      I was six when I died.

      I heard Glaucus, master of Epidavros, talking to my father, their voices blurring in the gloom. My eyes were dimming. I could no longer feel my hands or feet. I was beyond the awful pain which had burned through my insides. I floated for a little, listening.

      `The boy has eaten nightshade berries,' the master said evenly. `They are lethal. There is nothing we can do. The boy will die.'

      `Is there no god to whom I can sacrifice?'

      My father sounded desperate. The Carian woman, my mother, had died when I was born. I was his only son. If I had been in my body I would have wept as my father did, but I was floating like a feather, and feathers cannot weep.

      `A white kid to Apollo,' said the master kindly. I know now that he was certain of my fate and was just giving my father a task, so that he should not have to stay and watch me die - poisoning is an unsightly death to watch. `Apollo can do anything.'

      Footsteps sounded on the marble floor as my father ran out. The body was gathered up into the master's arms. He laid it gently on a carved bench, composed the limbs decently, and sat down to watch it die.

      Thanatos came for me. Out of a light more golden and beautiful than ever sun shone in Achaea, came a glorious man, clad in streamers of cloth like clouds. He touched me, and I reached up both arms to clasp around his neck. Warmth and a sweet scent like spring seemed to infuse me.

      `Little brother,' said Thanatos, god of death, `you are young to die, but you are welcome. Look down. There is your body.'

      From the sky I looked down, as he said, while he held me carefully. There was a pale boy with golden hair. His face was twisted ugly. He writhed and groaned. Next to him sat master Glaucus. Around him flowed a warm, rich energy, following the contours of his strong hand, his bony shoulder, his bearded head. He glanced up and spoke, as though he could see us.

      `Farewell, little brother,' he said gravely, `if it is your time.'

      I nodded. I was joyful in the embrace of Thanatos the angel, and I did not want to go back to that whimpering thing on the bed. I snuggled closer, into the cloud-soft drapery, and whispered, `Let us go, Lord.'

      A great voice spoke, though I could not understand what it said. Thanatos sank gently, cradling me close. The voice spoke again and Thanatos kissed me, his lips printing a warm mark on my forehead. Cloud-dark and crowned with bay leaves, Death leaned down towards my body.

      I cried because I did not want to leave him; he was so glowing and soft. He said, `I will see you again, little brother, never fear,' and swept me down to my body again.

      I did not want to be there. I screamed so hard for Thanatos to come back that the master gave me a strong infusion of poppy syrup. I slept, finding Sleep almost as gentle an angel as Death.

      Since then, I have never been afraid of death. I know him to be a benign deity, who gathers the fallen into his arms. I was so young when I died that I had not had a chance to be afraid; now I doubt I ever will be.

      That does not mean that I do not fight him when I have to. We have a good understanding, Thanatos the bright angel and I. I save all that can be saved; he comforts all that cannot.

      I told the master of Epidavros all about Thanatos and Morpheus when I awoke the next day, cured even though I had swallowed a handful of nightshade berries (I had seen ravens eating them, so I thought they were edible). He listened politely, until I told him that Death had kissed me. He exclaimed at that, and showed me my face in a silver mirror. I had never seen my own face before. My forehead was pale and high. I have brown eyes, the golden hair that made the boys call me `Chryse' and a long nose which my father said resembled my mother's. I smiled into the mirror, interested, because the boy in the mirror smiled when I smiled.

      But Glaucus, the master of the temple, was looking at my forehead. It was marked. There was a double line, a scar like a burn without puckering, the silvery mark of Death's lips.

      My father did not want to leave me at the Temple of Asclepius but the master gave him such presents - a young woman from Corinth as wife, two farm workers, half a flock of goats and a slip of the sacred olive tree, which bears more fruit than any other - that he left me with the master to learn to be a healer.

      I remember that they washed me in the lustral basin, gave me a clean tunic and cut a lock of my hair. Then they took me to the temple and the priests blew the sacred trumpets and lit incense before Asclepius. There was singing all about me. It was not a miracle - Death is the only god I have СКАЧАТЬ