Steven Saylor - Wrath of the Furies

He whispered in my ear, “May Artemis bless you! May the goddess heal you and make you whole! There is nothing we can do for all these poor wretches-except, perhaps, show them a miracle. Do you understand? If Artemis chooses to cure you, might she not show mercy to these wretches and somehow save them from their suffering? Your cure could give them hope, if nothing else.”

His words, and the mercy he had shown to the Roman at the gate, confused me. Did he not hate the Romans as much as every other Ephesian? He stepped back and looked into my eyes, as if he expected the miracle to occur at that very moment. Without thinking I opened my mouth, and I saw his eyes light up.

I bit my lips and shut my mouth. The Great Megabyzus continued to stare at me for a long moment, then took my arm and led me to the roasting pyre.

“You must eat the first portion,” he said. He picked up his knife and ax. He chopped a piece of meat, deftly carved it, spitted a piece on the tip of the knife and offered it to me. I took the smoking morsel between my teeth. I felt the ooze of the charred fat on my lips and tasted the bloody flesh on my tongue. From the corner of my eye, I thought I saw the distant statue of Artemis move-but when I turned to look, she stood as stiff as ever in the circular opening of the pediment.

I looked down at the crowd, trying to spot Bethesda. The sea of faces was now in constant motion. Like waves, the crowd surged against the edge of the raised platform. The spear-bearers formed a cordon around the perimeter of the platform, tilting their spears toward the surrounding crowd to hold them back.

The Megabyzoi were now eating their share of the sacrifice, looking anxiously over their shoulders. As I watched them hurriedly chew and champ their jaws and wipe juice from their chins, it struck me that there is no dignified way for a mortal to ingest his food. When others eat, we politely look elsewhere-anywhere but at their mouths, as if the organ were doing something obscene. No wonder the gods prefer to live on smoke!

The spear-bearers were given a share, which they ate in turns, some eating while the others held the crowd in check. The sound of the crowd grew to a roar, drowning out the music of the rattles and tambourines.

The Grand Magus, with a look of alarm on his face, drew close to the Great Megabyzus. Above the noise all around us, I strained to hear what he said.

“You obviously underestimated the reaction of the Roman rabble. We should have brought more men, or else cleared the crowd from the temple grounds beforehand.”

“These people came to the temple seeking sanctuary,” said the Great Megabyzus. “There is a sacred obligation-”

“Your first obligation is to keep us alive!” snapped the Grand Magus. “I suggest we retreat at once.”

The Great Megabyzus looked at the crowd, then at me.

The Grand Magus grabbed his arm. “If you’re still waiting for this mute to speak-”

“He must sleep overnight in the temple,” said the Great Megabyzus. “I never expected him to speak at once. Suppliants often make prayers and sacrifices first, then spend the night in the sanctuary, awaiting the goddess to visit them in a dream.”

“Do you expect us all to stay here overnight?” The Grand Magus looked outraged.

“Of course not. Only the suppliant must do so.”

“What’s to keep him from wandering off?”

“One of the Megabyzoi will watch over him, as is customary.”

“Better to leave some of these spear-bearers.”

The Great Megabyzus shook his head. “No man is allowed carry a weapon into the temple.”

“Then have them stand guard outside the door!”

“That would only provoke the crowd. What’s to keep these desperate people from overwhelming any guards we leave here, and taking their weapons? No, I shall assign a single priest to accompany the suppliant, and sleep beside him inside the temple. Tomorrow morning, if Agathon of Alexandria can speak again, we shall know that he is not, and never was, the man we need for the ritual. On the other hand, if he’s still mute-”

“But either way, he may wander off!”

The Great Megabyzus looked at me shrewdly. “Not if we hold something dear to him.”

The Grand Magus pursed his lips. “What manner of surety could we take from him? You’ve seen the man naked. The only jewelry on his person is that lion’s tooth around his neck.”

“He has a piece of property he values much more than that.”

The Grand Magus looked puzzled, but with a sinking heart I perceived the Great Megabyzus’s intent. I looked at the crowd again, searching for Bethesda, and saw her nowhere. She seemed to have vanished. Then I saw that the Great Megabyzus was looking at someone behind me. Bethesda stood on the platform, only a few steps away from me. She had worked her way through the surging crowd, and the spear-bearers had allowed her through the cordon. My heart leaped at the sight of her-and then grew cold when the Great Megabyzus spoke.

“We’ll hold the girl for surety,” he said, nodding toward Bethesda.

“A slave girl?” The Grand Magus scoffed. “That’s no kind of surety!”

“I think, Grand Magus, you have not been very observant. If you doubt the value Agathon places on the slave, just look at his face.”

The Grand Magus squinted at me, then at Bethesda. “Ah, yes. I see what you mean. Very well, if the mute must be left to sleep in the sanctuary of the goddess, let one of your priests accompany him, to see that all is done properly, while we hold his slave as surety.”

The Great Megabyzus nodded. “And in the morning, whatever the goddess decides, the priest will escort Agathon back to the palace-”

“Yes, yes! The matter is settled. Now, let’s get out of here. Quickly, before this crowd of Roman filth turns into a howling mob!”

The Megabyzoi set about extinguishing the incense braziers and the roasting pyre.

“They’re putting out the fires!” someone in the crowd yelled. “Where is the meat for us? Is there no more meat?”

“Impossible!” cried a woman. “Our children must have food. If not meat, then bread. Anything, to fill their bellies. Priests of Artemis, we beg you! Would the goddess see children starve to death on her doorstep?”

I saw the Great Megabyzus cringe, but the Grand Magus only sneered.

One of the priests approached, bearing a silver platter with a piece of meat on it. “Great Megabyzus, a single shank of the lamb remains. Mustn’t the entire sacrifice be consumed before we leave the altar?”

Before the Great Megabyzus could answer, the Grand Magus took hold of the shank, raised his arm, and threw the smoking meat as far as he could into the crowd. A mad scramble erupted where the shank landed. People screamed and shoved, trying to get hold of the food.

The Grand Magus smiled. “There, that should throw the Roman dogs off the scent while we make our exit!”

The spear-bearers formed a cordon around the priests and began to force a path through the crowd. In their midst was Bethesda, who looked over her shoulder at me with a stricken expression.

I moved to follow, but the cordon closed behind her, shutting me out.

“Your slave will be well looked after,” said a voice in my ear. The tone was calm, almost soothing, in sharp contrast to the uproar all around me. I felt a touch on my arm, and turned to see one of the Megabyzoi-surely the youngest among them, for he looked hardly older than myself.

“My name is Zeuxidemus,” he said, again in that impossibly calm voice. “The Great Megabyzus instructed me to look after you. I think we should get inside the temple as soon as possible, don’t you?”

Walking slowly and with measured steps, he escorted me away from the altar, off the platform, and into the crowd, which seemed to fall back from us, as if his very presence acted as a shield. He even made a joke of it, gesturing to his clothing and mine and whispering in my ear, “You’d think these Romans had an aversion to the color yellow!”