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| Heathens |
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| Written by Aelia Prisosta |
| Thursday, 28 May 2009 13:58 |
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Under the old linden tree Haedaules was carefully looking at the small iron statue. Anaitis was riding the sacred lion, with Hamurtat and Amurtat on each side. He looked at Kostodulos with a sigh: 'I hope Seras will understand it, I hope the gift will be received' 'There are only so many ways one can arrange 3 people and a lion' answered Kostodulos with a wink. Haedaules didn't answer and sat silent for a while. 'It is time !' briskly stood up Haedaules, 'it is time to meet lady Matraguna, my guide'. 'What ?' Kostodulo's look answered Haedaules. He couldn't say if it was inquisitive or worried. May be both. *** In the while marble hall, Seras and a stocky, gray bearded man were talking near the sand tray. 'Duras, I know you're worried, I am too. His training is not complete and we made the shortest path even shorter. The time is running out, we have no other choice, we both know it.' 'There is always another ch..' stated Duras when Haedaules entered the marble hall. He greeted Seras and Duras with a very short reverence, almost a nod. Seras looked inquisitively at him and Haedadules handed him a small linen satchel. Seras opened the small bag revealing the small statue of Anaitis. 'This is not the first time you see this, Duras, isn't it?' answered Seras the look on Duras's face. 'For a moment I thought it was the sacred amulet protecting our houes', sighed relieved Duras. 'And it is not?' asked Seras 'It looks very much the same. Something is different though, may be the details'. Seras looked at Haedaules and told him: 'It is time, Zamolxis protects us. You succeed or you fail, this will be our fate' Headaules remembered the ritual. He rehearsed it hundreds of times before. He stripped down all his clothes leaving only the white loin cloth. he went in the middle of the marble circle on the floor of the white marble hall. He slowly reached the green bowl on the iron table on the second inner marble circle. With a grimace he emptied it and rapidly took the figure of Anaitis in both of his hands and raised it up as high as he could, struggling to remember the incantation Seras taught him. Haedaules started to sing and recite the spell under Seras' ever more astonished look. The moon's silver light was falling directly on Haedaules through the narrow window of the temple, enveloping him in a soft gray-white aura. In the middle of the white marble circle he was slowly swirling around, his hands raised holding together Anaitis' figurine. His lips were reciting not Zamolxis' chant but verses in a tongue long forgotten. Slowly his feet left the ground and the white-milky light covered the the whole marble circle around him. 'The Gate of Mists, how do he know the spell for the Gate of Mists. This is the only mystery Hestia didn't leave with Zamoxis when she retired.' Seras looked inquisitively at Duras:' Do you know where he might have learned the chant?' Duras answered slowly: 'The small heathen whore...' Seras looked surprised at Duras, he never heard him say anything like this. Duras was looking at the continuous swirl of Haedaules. He whispered: ' Remember a few years ago when many of our slaves died of a mysterious disease? We had to go down on the plains and get more. We captured 2-3 families of those wimps living down near the mouth of the big river, worshiping the land and everything around it.One of them had a daughter... just right to keep Haedaules from dreaming under the linden tree. Seras nodded understandingly and asked: 'How do you know is her? How could a bunch of heathen, dirty land laborers know what the sons of Zamolxis couldn't ?' 'It was..' Duras started when his eyes gasped. Haedaules was entirely absorbed by the light and grew dimmer and dimmer until only the cold marble circle was left and the figure of Anaitis dropped on the floor. Duras rushed to pick it up and handed it to Seras. 'Look closely at the figure, what do you see'? 'Anaitis and her 2 servants...' 'Look closer, what do you see on her body, on the servants and especially the lion.?' asked again Duras. 'Some meanders, a lozenge, rather three of them and a serpent in the middle... by Zamolxis, these are Hestia's symbols, just that nobody knows their meaning anymore.' exclaimed Seras. 'This ceremony had nothing to do with Anaitis, didn't it? Now we have to deal both with Anaitis' wrath and the loss of Haedaules How do you know is the heathen girl?' continued worried Seras. ' 'You know how they dress, with the large sleeved tunics, brought together at their necks and hands. The night Haedaules became a man I spotted her sneaking in his room. She was wearing one of those tunics, full of lozenges, sets of 3 lines and serpents. Just like this figure figure of Anaitis you hold in your hands... umm... shall we call her Hestia now?' 'I got to go', rushed Duras, holding the hilt of his sword, 'I have to teach that little whore a lesson'.. 'Easy my friend, said Seras, as it stands now she is our only link to Haedaules. Some people and especially the heathen never really embraced Zamolxis and stayed faithful to Hestia... against her will.. or so we think. Seras paused for a second: 'The girl might be useful later. We have bigger problems right now and Haedaules is our only hope. When..,' Seras stopped with a sigh '...if he comes back'. |
