Eve of the Serpent, Page 3

  ‘This wolf, though: that’s involved in the task you’ll soon be set.’

  ‘The wolf? And you’re setting me a task?’

  ‘Little fox, little fox: haven’t you learned by now that you should ensure you only ask one question at a time? Then any answer you receive will be clear to you, rather than simply adding to your confusion.’

  It may have been an admonishment, but it was lightly delivered. The lady had swept past Prytani, heading towards the top of the stairs that came out into the interior of the room.

  Prytani obediently followed after her.

  ‘What will my task be?’ she asked.

  ‘It won’t be a task set by me,’ the lady replied, her long dress swishing on the steps as she began to swiftly descend them. ‘And I, of course, cannot tell you too much about your own future.’

  Prytani understood. She had been told on a previous visit that knowing too much of your own possible future was dangerous, at best counterproductive, and leading only to chaotic outcomes.

  ‘It makes sense to approach our own lives only point by point, otherwise our intentions have only unintended consequences. Either creating the future we feared, or changing it such that everything around us becomes unrecognisable. A seer should not seek to see her own life spread out before her.’

  On the stairs, other creatures wandered up and down as if unseeing, as if they were climbing some other flight of steps they had never encountered before. They might as well have been in the most confusing labyrinth for all the bewilderment that crossed their faces or affected their obviously uncertain movements.

  ‘Be careful on the way down,’ the lady warned, looking back at Prytani over her shoulder with obvious concern. ‘It will always be the most dangerous part of your journey, the part where you are most likely to fall; and the ascent, of course is always dangerous enough!’

  As the steps curled onto the exterior of the tower, Prytani glanced out towards the surrounding hedge of thorns, the lake lying beyond it that transformed the whole hill of glass into an island. Wherever the stairs curled back inside, they were lit by glowing, brightly coloured orbs of light, the sparkle of glistening metal, each one completely different on each level.

  A mermaid swam past them, effortlessly heading upwards as if flowing through the clearest of water. The lady noted Prytani’s interest, the way the little fox’s gaze followed after the rising mermaid as if envying her easy mode of travel.

  ‘Descendants of the original seven Abgal, who were themselves half human, half fish,’ the lady explained. ‘They swim in the astral flow of the apsû, many unfortunately no longer aware that their forebears were responsible for bringing the moral code of the Me to mankind.’

  The lady only halted in her descent at an incredibly low level, where the sparkling sphere of light shone like the bright red glow of Mars, the surrounding metal reflecting it all with the coruscating sheen of polished iron. Here a fearfully perplexed magpie fluttered from one side of the staircase to the other, as if trapped within a cage, as if it remained unaware of the route lying behind it, let alone the route that would take it upwards.

  ‘Welcome once more, little fox, to the Netherworld of Gugalanna.’

  The lady watched the panicked fluttering of the magpie with undisguised enjoyment.

  ‘Not everyone who reaches this point deserves to do so,’ she added a little bitterly. ‘They seek change in their condition, yes: but only so they may gain power, not true understanding.’

  She held out a hand for the magpie to alight on. It rested their, yet still appeared unsure of its surroundings. It could have landed on nothing more than a branch, little more than a rock, for all the attention it gave the closely watching lady.

  ‘Fortunately, many of these false seekers remain here, erroneously flattering themselves that they have achieved so much, that they are so very very close to full understanding. And yet they are also, at last, fully aware – so frustratingly for them – of the limits of their world, the restrictions placed in their way. They also sense, however, that the beginnings of the Path to enlightenment lies within their grasp.’

  She flipped her hand aggressively, casting the magpie aside so that it was frantically fluttering within the confines of the staircase once more. This time, though, the magpie went through a swift transformation in its panicked flurry of wings, rapidly growing and taking on human form.

  A man standing, eyes closed, within a complicated diagram drawn upon the floor. Candles and lamps are lit here and there. Fumes rise from burning bowls.

  On a nearby desk there are ancient tracts, written in all manner of languages, some composed of dashes and dots, some purely of pictures.

  ‘You’ll be meeting him soon.’

  The lady elegantly circled the man, studying him closely.

  ‘His parchments, he believes, will lead him to achieve what you, my little fox, achieve so naturally, so instinctively.’

  With a wave of an arm, she changes the scene slightly. Now the man is seated at the desk, poring over old manuscripts and scrolls, flicking the pages, unwinding more of a roll, making notes with a sharpened feather regularly dipped in an ink of berries and eggs.

  ‘He’s bought them all at fabulous expense. Many from those lands close to where the boy comes from. Most, indeed, have been sourced from the boy’s uncle. This wizard – for that is how he sees himself, how he terms himself – believes these lands and the ancient parchments produced there provide the answers not just to all the world’s secrets, but to the secret of the world: how man can leave that world behind, soaring up the heavens themselves while still remaining alive.’

  ‘And this is possible?’

  ‘This is possible: yes.’

  *

  Chapter 8

  Prytani and Tamesis both woke together with a start, when the door to their prison was thrown open with a noisy crump.

  A tall, broad warrior strode inside. He casually clutched the handle of his sheathed sword as if purely to draw attention to it, a warning that he wasn’t prepared to put up with any trouble. With a sneering glance down at the drowsily waking girl and fox, he stood aside from the door, allowing a second, smaller man to enter behind him.

  With a flurry of wings, a large magpie followed him inside. It landed almost silently on the second man’s outstretched arm, its talons biting into the thick leather guard he wore.

  It eyed first Tamesis then Prytani with strangely knowing eyes. Its bulbous eyes possessed a strange intelligence that Prytani had only ever come across once before in an animal, and that was in Tamesis.

  Prytani recognised the magpie. She recognised the second man too.

  She had seen them both last night, in her vision, in the lady’s tower.

  She looked up at the man suspiciously. Tamesis briefly hissed at the magpie, rose up on her feet as she arched her back; then unconcernedly lay back down amongst the straw.

  Just as unconcernedly, the magpie looked away from Tamesis.

  The man, however, stared at the fox with obvious distaste.

  ‘You should thank me girl,’ the man said. ‘You’re fox would have been killed, had I not given specific instructions that she should be spared.’

  ‘Thank you.’

  Prytani said it blandly, meaninglessly.

  ‘I heard she was trouble.’ The warrior glowered at her. ‘And we still don’t know why the wolf spared her!’

  The other man ignored him. He gave a dismissive wave of a hand.

  The warrior withdrew from the small cell, bowing low through the doorway.

  ‘Don’t act so uncaring, girl,’ the man spat. ‘I know how important the fox is to you! Without her, your gift is redundant!’

  Just as the man glowered angrily at Prytani, the magpie abruptly stared irately at Tamesis.

  ‘Unless, of course, you’re nothing more than a vagabond; claiming talents you could never truly hope to possess.’

  The lady had warned Prytani that the wizard would need reassuran
ce that she was able to regularly visit the tower. He had no real proof, after all, of her capabilities. He’d based his judgement only on tales that he’d heard, tales from foolish, unimportant people he was more inclined to disbelieve than trust.

  He had had other seers imprisoned here before. And, when he had discovered they had no particular talents after all, he had had them killed for wasting his precious time.

  ‘That’s what the lady said you’d say.’

  ‘Lady?’

  Like his magpie, he cocked his head with interest.

  ‘The lady who lives at the top of the tower.’

  The wizard and his magpie exchanged glances.

  ‘You’ve seen her? This lady? This tower?’

  Prytani nodded.

  ‘Tell him whatever you wish, whatever you need, about me, about my tower,’ the lady had said to her the previous night. ‘We must keep you alive: and therefore I will help you provide the help he believes he needs.’

  ‘She said there was a tale – no, not a tale, an important history – I must tell you,’ Prytani said to the wizard.

  ‘For me?’

  He made an effort to hide it, but the wizard was visibly excited. His back straightened, his eyes widened, his mouth just about fell open.

  ‘She’s passing on an important history to me? Through you?’

  He smiled in satisfaction.

  He looked towards his magpie.

  ‘It seems at last, Cructan, that we chose wisely!’

  *

  Chapter 9

  The Seven Veils

  Inanna, Queen of Heaven, wished to visit the underworld to attend the funeral rites of Gugalana, the Bull of Heaven.

  She knocked at the first gate, and demanded to be admitted.

  The gatekeeper Neti appeared.

  ‘Who are you?’

  ‘I am Inanna, Queen of Heaven. On my way to the East.’

  ‘You must wait, while I deliver your message to your sister Ereshkigal,’ Neti told her.

  Now Ereshkigal, the wife of Gugalana, hated her sister Inanna. Whereas Inanna symbolised fertility and erotic love, Ereshkigal was bound by the laws of her own kingdom of the underworld.

  She cannot leave to visit the other gods. And they cannot visit her in the underworld, for fear of never being able to leave.

  ‘Bolt the seven gates of the underworld,’ Ereshkigal told Neti. ‘Then open them one by one by just a crack. As Inanna enters each one, remove one of her royal garments. Let the holy priestess of heaven enter bowed low.’

  So Neti tells Inanna that, to enter the first gate, she must first hand over her lapis lazuli measuring rod.

  ‘Why?’ asks Inanna.

  'It is just the ways of the Underworld,’ Neti insists.

  Now Inanna had dressed elaborately for her visit.

  As well as her lapis lazuli measuring rod, she wore other representations of the powerful Mes she possessed: a turban, a wig, mascara, a lapis lazuli necklace, an ornamental breastplate, beads upon her breast, a golden ring on her hand, the 'pala’ ladyship dress.

  And as she passed through the seven gates, Inanna had to hand over seven of her garments, until she stood naked and bowed in the throne room.

  And there the Anna, the seven judges of the underworld, passed judgment against her.

  *

  Chapter 10

  After hearing Prytani’s tale, the wizard frowned thoughtfully.

  He stared at Prytani intently.

  He glowered in disappointment.

  ‘That’s it? That’s the secret I seek?’

  Prytani shook her head.

  ‘You cannot be told everything all at once. You need to work out what each tale means at the correct stage.’

  The wizard nodded, narrowed his eyes; yes, that made sense, his expression said.

  ‘The tales cannot be solved in isolation, the lady warned. Rather, they are aids to help you understand the great ancient tract you’ve obtained from the boy’s uncle. For these tales are even more ancient than those scrolls.’

  ‘Even more ancient? Is that possible? And who is this boy, this boy’s uncle you talk of? Do you mean Joseph? He’s the one providing all these scrolls and texts.’

  Prytani wished that the wizard knew of the lady’s advice that you should keep your questions simple.

  She nodded.

  The wizard rubbed his hands gleefully. He stepped farther away from the door, waved a hand inviting Prytani to leave her cell.

  ‘You are free to wander the village.’ He tried to smile, but it came across to Prytani as a pained grimace. ‘You will find it impossible to leave the stockade anyway,’ he added, this time managing a delighted grin.

  Even his magpie, Cructan, seemed to grin along with him.

 

  *

  Despite its size, and the presence of so many armed men, so many horses, the rest of the people living in the village were much like those Prytani had come across when she’d stayed in or passed through other villages. There were farmers, labourers, carpenters, seamstresses, milkmaids. The blacksmiths were, of course, unusually busy, with armour and weapons to forge and expertly hammer into shape.

  No one seemed either happier or unhappier that any other villagers she had ever met, despite the aura of safety provided by the stockade, and what appeared to Prytani to be an unimaginable level of wealth and good living. Every one eyed Tamesis suspiciously, but once again this was far from unusual: it was expected of a fox to either snap viciously at any passer-by, or steal any food left unattended.

  Prytani begged something to eat for both her and Tamesis. First burnt and hardened scraps from a bakers, then stale fish from fishermen heading off for a fresh catch. Once again, these people seemed no more generous nor meaner than any one she had met on her wanderings around the countryside.

  Would she, she wondered, be allowed to earn money here telling fortune and future? Or would she have to beg daily just to stay alive?

  Alongside her feet, Tamesis suddenly halted. Her sharp nose was even more pointed than normal, for she was intently staring at a short wall of wood boarding.

  Tamesis’s hissing was unusually strained and aggressive, Prytani thought; until she realised it wasn’t emanating from Tamesis, but from behind the wall.

  A horse whinnied in terror. The boarding of the wall shook violently, a series of hard crumps and bangs that set the wood vibrating, even splintering in parts.

  Prytani and Tamesis sprinted to the other side of the wall. They were greeted by a scene so unusual that Prytani had never seen anything like it before.

  A large carthorse had been tied to the boarding in such a way that it was difficult for it to move. Ropes were looped around its neck, waist and legs at various points. Seven men wearing heavily padded clothing had surrounded it, taking turns to draw close, to wait a split second, then quickly step back.

  Each time a man did this, the horse’s panic increased, its eyes white and globular in their fear, its mouth slavering with foam. It tried its best each time to shy away, to kick out with its hooves, to rear up in defence or attack; but each time the restraining ropes prevented it from making any of these attempted moves with any degree of success.

  ‘Stop that! Stop that!’ Prytani screamed, rushing towards one of the heavily padded men, grabbing him by his arm, whirling him around.

  Prytani jumped back in shock.

  The man’s whole face was hidden behind a heavily padded mask.

  And within his hands he was holding a viciously snapping, hissing snake.

  *

  The snake struck out at Prytani, baring its long, venomous fangs.

  Fortunately, the man moved swiftly, jerking his arms backwards so that the snake bit at nothing but empty air.

  Frustrated, the snake spun within the air, curled back, and bit deeply into the man’s padded face mask, its deadly venom draining into and darkening the material.

  ‘Go! Go, you stupid girl!’ the man shrieked angrily, his voice h
eavily muffled behind the mask. ‘You’ll get us all killed!’

  He waved a free hand at her, half push, half command to leave at once. With his other hand, he kept a firm grip on the furiously writhing, still biting serpent.

  Beyond the man, Prytani watched in growing horror as another man approached the terrified, thrashing horse. He held out the serpent in his own hands, let it strike out, let it bite deeply with its venomous fangs into the poor horse’s flesh.

  The horse only partially managed to rear up on its hind legs, to lash out with its hooves. Its teeth were completely bared, whether in fear or agony Prytani couldn’t tell. Its eyes bulged.

  Its flesh was drenched in sweat, and marked here and there with other bites, other puncture marks, each of which dripped sickeningly with either blood, venom or a mix of the two.

  This last strike of a serpent was too much for the horse. Its legs began to buckle. It whinnied as if lost, as if having abandoned all hope.

  Its whole body shook, its flanks quivering as if rippling with the movement of oceans and seas. With a last sigh of hopelessness, it crumpled to the ground, the ropes at last loosening enough to allow this to happen.

  The men stood back, staring down at the dying horse from behind their masks. Masks that hid what must be, Prytani surmised, evilly satisfied grins.

  Other men, those who had been controlling the tautness of the restraining ropes, rubbed their hands with the relish of men who have successfully completed a particularly difficult task.

  There was nothing Prytani could do now for the dying horse.

  She fled, Tamesis running alongside her heels.

  She needed somewhere quiet where she could cry.

  *

  Chapter 11

  How could men be so cruel?

  What was the point of torturing that poor horse?

  Tamesis lay curled up in Prytani’s lap, offering the crying girl whatever comfort she could. The vixen’s eyes were wide, warm, full of concern for both Prytani and the dying horse.

  Prytani stroked the warm fur, drawing a welcome sense of reassurance from the regular rhythm of Tamesis’s steady breathing.