to marry her.'
'Have I told you how much I don't like Argive ways?' I asked, disgusted. Chryse smiled tiredly.
'Yes. Fortunately, you like at least one Argive.'
This was true. I stroked his hair. 'Why don't you sleep? I can watch her.'
'Provided that you call me if you need help.'
When I was sure that he was asleep, his head on Eumides' shoulder, I lay down with the Lady Electra, breast to breast, measuring my body against hers. Then I called on the Goddess that the Argives call Menmoysyne; we have a sacred name for her. Sometimes I had been able to make a link between my own mind and the mind of a patient. I was reluctant to do it without the support of another priestess, but this could not be allowed to go on. If someone wanted to capture us, we would be easy prey. We were so exhausted that only Eumides would have been able to put up a fight. And our Trojan sailor was growing fretful, urging us to leave this inconvenient, maddened princess in some village, saying we should otherwise bind her with ropes and gag her so that we could sleep. I saw his point but I could not do that. She would not survive alone, and her silent little brother would not leave her. If we abandoned her she would die.
The most difficult task was to sink into the sacred state and not to fall asleep. I quickly gained the cloudy space where the souls of humans walk when they are not awake, and there she was.
Poor princess. Secured by wrist and ankle to a bed, spreadeagled, naked.
'He's coming,' the phantom whispered.
'Who?' I asked, trying to untie the bindings. They snaked away from my touch, sliding, unravelling. I have some power over this realm. I touched each bedpost and ropes hissed at me and retreated. The princess lay as rigid as a two-day corpse. Her eyes were wide open, the pupils dilated black with horror. And her pain flooded me - corrosive, bitter. I cried aloud under the burning. I wondered how she had managed to live in this state, in agony.
'You can move,' I told her. 'Sit up, Princess. Fight. Run.'
'The door!' she screamed, and I heard the click of a bolt being drawn.
A misty form blocked the doorway. Electra's fear was so strong that I was compelled out of communion and snapped back into my own body with force enough to bruise. I lay shaking beside the Argive princess, her mystery still unsolved.
The next day, Eumides addressed Electra as 'Maiden' and she shrieked at him. 'Don't call me that!'
Thereafter he awarded her the usual word for women of all conditions: 'Lady'. The dreams went on. And so did the journey.
'Perhaps at Delphi they will be able to cure her,' Eumides said. He was sitting on the harbour wall outside the Temple of Poseidon of Corinth, eating olives and spitting the pits into the water.
It was an impressive temple. The marble pillars were painted in Poseidon's colours, green and blue, in patterns like waves. From the temple came the scent of roasting fish; the noon sacrifice.
Despite the Mycenean restrictions on women, no one had challenged me as I walked alone through the crowded streets. There was a babble of tongues from traders of all nations in sea-bordered Corinth. Unless a woman was wearing the purple chiton of a whore, consensus said that it was unsafe to meddle with her. The general view was that an unaccompanied woman might easily turn out to be either heavily armed and Amazon-trained, or the personal property of some particularly ill-tempered foreign God. I, as it happened, was both, and no one bothered me.
Eumides looked unhappy. He had endured our long, tedious journey with the half-mad girl with as much patience as he could muster. The only reason he had not run away to his beloved Ocean was the love he bore for Chryse and me, and I was grateful.
'Have you found a ship?' I took an olive and bit it appreciatively. Kalamata. The best olives. I spat the stone into the sea.
'An old friend is going to Khirra, the port we need, in three days time. Have you found a lodging? Not in one of the
'Have I told you how much I don't like Argive ways?' I asked, disgusted. Chryse smiled tiredly.
'Yes. Fortunately, you like at least one Argive.'
This was true. I stroked his hair. 'Why don't you sleep? I can watch her.'
'Provided that you call me if you need help.'
When I was sure that he was asleep, his head on Eumides' shoulder, I lay down with the Lady Electra, breast to breast, measuring my body against hers. Then I called on the Goddess that the Argives call Menmoysyne; we have a sacred name for her. Sometimes I had been able to make a link between my own mind and the mind of a patient. I was reluctant to do it without the support of another priestess, but this could not be allowed to go on. If someone wanted to capture us, we would be easy prey. We were so exhausted that only Eumides would have been able to put up a fight. And our Trojan sailor was growing fretful, urging us to leave this inconvenient, maddened princess in some village, saying we should otherwise bind her with ropes and gag her so that we could sleep. I saw his point but I could not do that. She would not survive alone, and her silent little brother would not leave her. If we abandoned her she would die.
The most difficult task was to sink into the sacred state and not to fall asleep. I quickly gained the cloudy space where the souls of humans walk when they are not awake, and there she was.
Poor princess. Secured by wrist and ankle to a bed, spreadeagled, naked.
'He's coming,' the phantom whispered.
'Who?' I asked, trying to untie the bindings. They snaked away from my touch, sliding, unravelling. I have some power over this realm. I touched each bedpost and ropes hissed at me and retreated. The princess lay as rigid as a two-day corpse. Her eyes were wide open, the pupils dilated black with horror. And her pain flooded me - corrosive, bitter. I cried aloud under the burning. I wondered how she had managed to live in this state, in agony.
'You can move,' I told her. 'Sit up, Princess. Fight. Run.'
'The door!' she screamed, and I heard the click of a bolt being drawn.
A misty form blocked the doorway. Electra's fear was so strong that I was compelled out of communion and snapped back into my own body with force enough to bruise. I lay shaking beside the Argive princess, her mystery still unsolved.
The next day, Eumides addressed Electra as 'Maiden' and she shrieked at him. 'Don't call me that!'
Thereafter he awarded her the usual word for women of all conditions: 'Lady'. The dreams went on. And so did the journey.
'Perhaps at Delphi they will be able to cure her,' Eumides said. He was sitting on the harbour wall outside the Temple of Poseidon of Corinth, eating olives and spitting the pits into the water.
It was an impressive temple. The marble pillars were painted in Poseidon's colours, green and blue, in patterns like waves. From the temple came the scent of roasting fish; the noon sacrifice.
Despite the Mycenean restrictions on women, no one had challenged me as I walked alone through the crowded streets. There was a babble of tongues from traders of all nations in sea-bordered Corinth. Unless a woman was wearing the purple chiton of a whore, consensus said that it was unsafe to meddle with her. The general view was that an unaccompanied woman might easily turn out to be either heavily armed and Amazon-trained, or the personal property of some particularly ill-tempered foreign God. I, as it happened, was both, and no one bothered me.
Eumides looked unhappy. He had endured our long, tedious journey with the half-mad girl with as much patience as he could muster. The only reason he had not run away to his beloved Ocean was the love he bore for Chryse and me, and I was grateful.
'Have you found a ship?' I took an olive and bit it appreciatively. Kalamata. The best olives. I spat the stone into the sea.
'An old friend is going to Khirra, the port we need, in three days time. Have you found a lodging? Not in one of the
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