Chapter Twenty-Six
My eyes snapped open with the knocking at my door.
Only it was not my door. Not my couch. Not my room.
Scrambling to sit up, I struggled to recall where I was.
I lay on something smooth and silken, yet I was dressed as though I had already begun the day.
Only then did the memory of where I was return, along with the realization of what I was about to do.
“Master Hirtus is waiting for you.” A slave spoke behind the door.
“I will come now,” I said hurriedly.
In the courtyard, Phile and Hirtus sat together. Her head rested upon his shoulder as he gently brushed his hand along her hair. Embarrassment rose within me at invading such an intimate scene, and I cleared my throat. When they saw me, they smiled softly before Phile slowly straightened.
“You slept well. The gods wanted you to be rested for tonight.”
“Yes, thank you. I am very well rested.”
A dry lump formed in my throat. An issue needed to be addressed before I considered going on the hunt. The thought alone was enough to cause a rise in my pulse.
“Morsimus?” I said.
Phile nodded. “One of my men has visited him. They gave him your wages for today and told him you were required for later and that you would be bringing extra coins with you then.”
“He was satisfied with this?”
“Extra coins and no wife to remind him of his failings? What man in the village would not be satisfied with such a situation? Present company excluded.” Phile smiled at Hirtus, who kissed her gently on the head before standing up.
“Come,” he said. “We should make our offerings to the goddess.”
“I will offer my own blessings when you are gone,” Phile said as she also rose to kiss me on the cheek.
“Thank you. I hope to do her proud. And you as well.”
Hirtus led me behind the house to a rustic altar of roughly hewn stone.
It was a simple shrine, decorated with gifts from the earth as offerings to the goddess, from simple pine cones to a delicately carved wooden effigy of Artemis herself.
Etched into the stone itself was her symbol, a smooth crescent moon.
It was far from the elaborate and ornate altars that I had prayed at in Prousa, yet trepidation filled me, for that day, more than ever, I wished for the goddess to hear me.
Facing the altar, Hirtus took an amphora full of wine and filled two cups, one of which he handed to me.
“I will speak my prayers silently, but I understand if you wish to say yours aloud.” He had barely finished speaking when he closed his eyes.
He rocked ever so slightly on the balls of his feet as he used his fingertips to sprinkle wine on the ground by the altar.
The red liquid was drawn into the earth like droplets of fallen blood.
Panic gripped me; I should have asked what words he usually offered to the goddess before a hunt.
That way, I could have uttered the same sentiment and hoped to be blessed the same way he so often was.
The last thing I wanted to do was disappoint or offend her.
But knowing that Hirtus’s prayers would not last forever, I closed my eyes and began.
Goddess… My thoughts stuttered and stumbled.
Artemis. Divine huntress, daughter of Zeus, and guardian of the wild.
I seek your favor. I seek your guidance.
This, my first hunt, I offer in your name.
Grant me swiftness and silent feet on the earth.
Grant me strength in my arms and unerring aim.
I do not ask this solely for me but for all the women here.
For Phile and these gifts that she has granted me, for the joy that it will bring the women with whom I labor, for the feast that I will offer to Melitta, who has toiled so hard with me for so long.
Grant me a kill, and I will offer it in your name.
I will offer all I can in your name. In gratitude, I offer you this humble gift.
Eyes still closed, I sprinkled the wine on the ground, feeling the droplets that fell onto my toes. Only when I could retrieve no more wine by such a method did I open my eyes and tip the rest onto the dry earth.
For a minute, I remained still. Wind whipped around the home, bringing a distant scent of the sea.
Was it Artemis calling to me? A sign that she had heard my prayers?
I believed so then, and I still do. When all the wine had soaked into the ground, I looked up at Hirtus, his normally serious expression replaced with a wide grin.
“Now,” he said. “We hunt.”