CHAPTER NINE
The day of the selection was as busy as the one before had been. There was much to clean and prepare and it felt good to lose myself in mindless physical labor. It helped to distract me from what was to come.
There was another dinner celebration, but I begged off, claiming my head hurt. I wouldn t get to spend time with my family anyway and I was too queasy to keep anything down. Quynh stayed with me in my room, holding my hand while we both waited until it was time.
I dressed carefully with Quynh s help. I wanted to look my best when I was chosen. She silently cried. I felt her tears landing on my shoulder. I clenched my teeth together to keep myself under control. I couldn t afford to let myself cry.
Because I feared that if I started, I might never be able to stop.
The Ilionians were ordered to stay either in the palace or within the confines of their ship, with the exception of one man.
The Ilionian witness.
It had been the same man at every selection I d ever attended. He had been chosen because he was unable to read, and his tongue had been cut out so that he could not speak.
There had been a period of time when the Ilionian envoy had told their people which families the maidens had come from, and the maidens had been captured by the Ilionians and held for ransom. The families had paid it, but the maidens had still died as the Ilionians weren t willing to put themselves at risk by breaking the rules. As a precautionary measure, the current witness could not communicate the names of the maidens or their families.
He would verify the maidens identities by nodding as they boarded the ship. There had been many a wealthy family who had tried to substitute their daughter for someone else. The witness had to ensure that the maidens who sailed to Ilion were the same as the ones who had been initially chosen-the law could not be subverted.
There was only one way to make certain that a daughter was not picked. Those who still had the resources bribed the selector to keep their child s name from the lottery.
And it was the reason I no longer had my grandmother s pearls. I had pawned them and given the coins to the selector to make certain I was chosen.
There was never any guarantee, of course-a man who could be bribed was a man without honor. He could ignore my request and choose another.
My name might not be called.
It was a risk I d had to take.
We all gathered in the main square of the agora. The marketplace had been emptied out, all of the stalls and booths shut down. Only Locrians were allowed at the ceremony. No outsiders today.
The air was uneasy, the tension obvious. Dust swirled around thousands of feet. People did not make eye contact with one another. Parents hugged their daughters, afraid of their names being called.
All the girls between the ages of fifteen and nineteen gathered together toward the dais that had been constructed in the center of the agora. There was no separation by status or rank. We were all, supposedly, equally at risk of being chosen.
I was extremely grateful that Kallisto was too old to be called.
One of my father s advisers, a historian, stepped forward to tell us the tale that we had heard so many times before. He was an elderly man with a long, white beard. His gray robes were faded and tattered. They must have been beautiful once, but time had not been kind. He held up both of his hands, indicating that we were to be quiet and listen.
All who have assembled, we bow our heads and take our solemn vow now not to repeat the story that I am about to share, and to never speak the names of the maidens selected. Say that you swear it, or your life is forfeit.
This event was the closest we came to having any kind of religion. Taking the oath was sacred, and Locrians protected our own. Especially the maidens. Everyone bowed their heads and said, I swear it.
Satisfied, the historian began his tale, his voice booming through the open marketplace.
The prince of Ilion offended the goddess by kidnapping the most beautiful woman in the world and hiding her behind the walls of Troas. That woman s husband assembled together the greatest warriors the world had ever known, including Prince Ajax of Locris. These heroes called themselves the Achaeans, and they were those who honored the law of hospitality and the sacredness of marriage. They fought the Great War for years and years until finally, the Achaeans emerged triumphant, defeating the Ilionians.
I pressed my lips together tightly, my stomach clenching. I hated the next part.
As was custom, the Achaeans began to divide up their well-earned spoils of war. An Ilionian princess and priestess named Kysandra fled the palace instead of submitting herself to the victors, as required. Ignoring their instruction, she ran to the temple of the goddess and claimed sanctuary, throwing her arms around the feet of the goddess s statue. Ajax of Locris found her there and punished her for what she had done.
It wasn t until I was fifteen years old that I had been told what that vile punishment had entailed. Ajax the Lesser had sexually assaulted Kysandra. Violated her in the worst way possible, despite the fact that she had been a virgin and had claimed sanctuary.
Ajax had violated the laws of man and the laws of the goddess.
My father had tried to explain that things were different then-that women had once been considered part of the spoils to be taken-but it still disgusted me. I was ashamed to be descended from such a man.
The goddess was angry with Ajax of Locris for what he had done and swore in her wrath that Locris would pay for his crime. She cursed us with barren ground so that nothing would grow. Prince Ajax denied that a crime had taken place-he said that he had only pulled Kysandra from the temple by her hair. The Achaeans believed his account. Kysandra fled, hoping to use the labyrinth to evade the Achaeans and escape the city. Ajax ordered his men to give chase. They pursued her, caught her, and . . . His voice trailed off.
They killed her, I finished mentally. Those men had hunted her like an animal and murdered her in the streets.
The historian cleared his throat. The goddess expected that the Achaeans would punish Ajax of Locris, but they did not. Furious, the goddess commanded the earth to open, and it swallowed Ajax whole in front of his fellow soldiers, burying him while still alive. The goddess then sent foul winds and thunderstorms to ensure that the Achaeans would take years to travel home as retribution for turning their faces away from what had happened in her temple.
It was one of the reasons why no other nation had come to aid Locris after the goddess s punishment. No one was willing to risk her wrath. Some people hoped to curry her favor by taking things a step further. Many mercenaries began to hunt the descendants of Ajax, the Aianteioi, and a council of nations passed laws to protect us, as they reasoned that we had done nothing wrong and did not deserve a death sentence for our ancestor s crime.
The goddess then demanded that Locris replace her lost priestess-that we were to pay tribute every year of two maidens, drawn by lot, to serve in her temple. We honor Periboea and Cleopatra, the first two maidens sent to appease the goddess.
Our laws always dictated that retribution be made twofold. If one priestess had been taken, then two must be sent to repay the debt.
We all bowed our heads, honoring the first maidens with a few moments of silence. The only time that the goddess was ever spoken of in Locris was at the selection. The rest of the year everyone acted as if she didn t exist, and to even mention her was blasphemy. It had always seemed strange to me that in this one instance she was talked about in this manner-as if she still had control over our lives.
Which I supposed she did.
Despite wanting to claim that they were past religion and no longer believed, even the Locrians did not dare to offend the goddess further by removing her part in the retelling.
But the goddess had devised further punishment for all Locrians. The journey for the Locrian maidens would not be easy. They would be allowed to serve as priestesses, but only if they made it to the temple alive. They were to race through the city of Troas, and if they reached the temple, they would be received as acolytes. But the goddess instructed the men of Ilion to gather their weapons-their stones, their swords, their axes, their clubs-and attempt to slaughter the maidens before they could reach the temple. She promised that she would absolve them from shedding innocent blood for doing her will. The goddess wants a blood sacrifice but gives our daughters the opportunity to survive, a courtesy not extended to Kysandra.
That was the part I had trained for. Every man in the city would be waiting for me, wanting to kill me. A reward was given to the man who slaughtered a maiden, and he was honored by his people.
No Locrian maiden had ever reached the temple alive, and so every year Locris had to send two more maidens to replace the ones who had been butchered in the streets of Troas.
There was a reason brief as a Locrian rose was a common saying.
At first Locris had simply refused to send any maidens to Ilion. A terrible plague broke out that killed nearly half of the Locrian population. The oracle in Phocis had been consulted, and she said that it was a punishment by the goddess for not sending the maidens-that our entire nation would be utterly destroyed if we did not obey.
Then the Locrians looked for ways around the decree. They sent two infant daughters with their nursemaids, thinking it would stay the Ilionians hands.
It did not.
Some maidens wore armor for protection under their tunics, but all it did was slow them down and allow them to be caught faster.
Locris tried to argue to the council of nations that we should only be required to send one maiden, but the ruler of the council, King Antigonus, disagreed. The law was the law. Two maidens would be sent, drawn by lot, with certain compensations made to their families. Nothing would change.
So every year, without fail, the Ilionians arrived to take their human tributes, and the Locrians did not resist.
The historian said, We sacrifice to the goddess two of our treasured, precious daughters so that we may keep the rest. We know that those who are called upon to serve have the strength to endure this ordeal.
This was another aspect that had always bothered me. This belief that women were special enough to be pleasing to the goddess, but that we were ultimately easy to discard and unimportant. Strong enough to be slaughtered but not important enough to fight for.
And so it had fallen to me to step forward. I would fight.
I would change the curse and the fate of every woman destined to follow by myself.
The maidens will enter Ilion by night and race to the temple of the goddess. If they are caught they will be killed, and their bodies burned on a pyre of barren branches and their ashes thrown into the sea.
It was how criminals were executed. With the branches of trees that produced no fruit, and not allowed the privilege and honor of a proper burial in the earth. It was said that the spirits of those who had not been buried lingered, unable to find peace in the next life.
I had wondered more than once whether Haemon was a spirit, never able to find his way home.
The parents of the chosen maidens will receive fifteen minae and they will be exempt from taxes as gratitude for the ultimate sacrifice that they have been called upon to make.
A restless murmur shifted through the crowd. It was nearly time.
The historian had finished his recitation and nodded to the selector. The selector was dressed in a black tunic and the dust of Locris clung to him. His clothing marked him as an outcast. He was the most hated man in our nation-not only because he drew the two names every year, but because he profited off the misery of so many.
He held up the leather bag that had the name of every eligible girl from the capital city of Naryx, as it was our turn this year for the lottery. He opened the top and reached his hand inside.
This was it. I held my breath, clenching my fists so tightly that my nails dug into my palms.
The first maiden selected is . . .
Despite how many people stood in the agora waiting, there was absolute silence.
Thalia, daughter of Ephesus and Hypatia.
The first thing I felt was a strange kind of relief that everything had worked the way I had planned. The events were now in motion.
The second was sheer agony at the inhuman sound that ripped from my mother s throat. I turned to watch her collapse, my father kneeling down beside her, holding her close as she screamed. The noise pierced my very soul and it took all of my strength to step forward so that the witness could see my face.
I knew my mother didn t want to lose another child.
But I didn t intend to be lost.
Maybe I could even find a way to end the tribute. To protect all the Locrian maidens.
I knew this would be hard for my parents, but if I succeeded?
I would save all of Locris.
Although I should have been facing forward, I couldn t help but turn my gaze toward my loved ones. I wanted so badly to run to them, to comfort them. To let them know that things were going to be all right.
The second maiden selected is . . . The selector reached into his bag, pulling out another inscribed stone. He peered at it before announcing, Quynh, adopted daughter of Ephesus and Hypatia.