Chapter 15 #3
A ramshackle collection of wooden buildings clustered around the base of the stadium’s seating.
They walked past the dwellings until they came to one with old sacking pulled across the windows.
Candlelight glowed from within. A couple of people came and went, hoods dipped low over their faces.
Two women sat on barrels outside, their chests bare, dresses pooled around their waists.
Lithos ran up to one of them. The woman bent down and fussed over him, scratching the fur behind his ears.
“Busy tonight, Hetaria?” Manto called.
Hetaria sighed. “Same as ever. Be better if there was a war on.”
“Like a general, do you?”
“I like what they pay.” Hetaria swept her heavily kohl-rimmed eyes over Danae. “What’s wrong with this one? Never seen a pair of tits before?”
Danae flushed.
“Not the best pair in the city,” Manto replied.
Hetaria’s shoulders twitched with pride and she fought back a smile. “Flattery will get you nowhere, now piss off before you scare away my customers.”
So much for Delphi being the center of religious piety.
“Do the officials know about this place?” asked Danae.
Manto laughed. “Oh, they know. They don’t do anything because it’s good for business. Pilgrims got to have something to do while they’re waiting to see the oracle. The officials take their cut, of course. Lithos, come!”
Lithos scampered away from a drunk man who was attempting to feed the dog from his cup.
They continued through one of the arched entrance passages onto the gymnasium’s arena.
Up close, Danae could see the structure had been left to seed.
Moss had grown in between the slabs and several of the bricks were crumbling.
“Almost there.” Manto bounded across the dusty ground to a metal grate set into the middle of the first three rows of seating. With a grunt, they heaved it open to reveal a passageway chiseled into the stone.
Her heart sank, she was going back underground.
Manto tapped the stone. “This was made back when they used to do lion baiting. Had to keep the animals somewhere before the show. Now it’s where the forgotten people go. The dark underbelly of the holy city. Welcome to the safe house.”
The hollow beneath the gymnasium seating was surprisingly spacious.
Once Danae and Manto were through the rock passage, the walls widened into a large cavern of packed earth.
They were greeted by around thirty faces, illuminated by a central campfire.
A hole had been carved in the ceiling to let the smoke escape, but the room was still stiflingly smoggy.
The sharp tang of bodies caught in Danae’s throat, and she coughed.
“You’ll get used to the smell,” said Manto.
A small boy of about eight ran over and flung his arms around Manto’s waist. He only had one hand.
“I’m hungry!”
“Didn’t you get anything today?”
The boy shook his head sorrowfully.
“That’s not true!” said a girl of roughly the same age as she scurried up behind him. “A pilgrim gave him an apple, I saw.”
Manto smirked, produced a couple of biscuits and proffered them to the children. The pair grinned, snatched the victuals and ran back to the warmth of the campfire.
Danae’s eyes were drawn to a girl even younger than the first two children. She wore a coarse tunic of old sacking, and a man was feeding her broth from a rough wooden bowl. There were two raw stumps where her hands should have been.
Manto caught her gaze. “Penalty for thieving.”
A lump swelled in Danae’s throat. “Who are they?”
“Pilgrims who’ve slipped through the cracks, orphans, desperate people with only their bodies to sell, those hiding from the iron law of Apollo. The usual waifs and strays.” Manto placed a hand on Danae’s shoulder. “Come on.”
They led her over to a far corner away from the fire.
It was colder, but more private. As she sat, it dawned on her that, like the Maenads, Manto hadn’t once spoken the sacred greeting.
In her village that would be like forgetting to breathe.
Not saying it implied you had something to hide from the gods and would bring years of bad luck on your family. Or so everyone believed.
“Don’t worry, I haven’t told anyone who you are. Only the Children of Prometheus know.”
“Prometheus...the Titan?” That couldn’t be what Manto meant. The Titans were the embodiment of evil.
“No, my uncle Prometheus.” Manto raised an eyebrow. “Yes, Prometheus the Titan.”
The crease between Danae’s brows deepened. “Why would they know who I am?”
Manto laughed. Their mirth quickly vanished when they took in the expression on her face. For a moment they looked worried, then their eyes sharpened with realization.
“You’re right. At this moment I am the only member who knows that the last daughter has come. Finally.”
Danae’s suspicions were confirmed. “I’m grateful you saved me, I really am...but I think you made a mistake.”
Manto frowned. “Mistake?”
“You’ve rescued the wrong person.”
Their pointed face hardened. “Are you not the one who broke the oracle?”
“Well...yes.”
Manto sighed. “Thank fuck. You had me worried there. Do you know the amount of work that went into getting you out?” They fixed her with the intense stare of someone trying to solve a particularly complex puzzle. “You know...you’re not what I expected.”
No, she supposed she didn’t look like the sort of person who had the power to destroy Apollo’s oracle. Whether it was the smoke, or the hours of running, she suddenly felt intensely lightheaded, and the edges of her vision began to crackle.
“You all right?” Manto’s voice sounded far away. “When did you last eat?”
Danae shook her head sluggishly.
Manto disappeared for a moment, then returned with something that looked like a rodent on a spit, although it smelled delicious. Lithos howled, then sat bolt upright, his white-tipped tail whipping the ground.
“In a moment,” said Manto. “Our guest needs to eat first.”
Danae took the spit and sank her teeth into the meat. It tasted a bit like goat.
Manto pulled a small amphora from their bag, popped the cork with their teeth and took a swig.
“Perks of knowing a wine merchant.” They watched Danae eat for a few more moments then said, “Leave some for the person who saved your ass.”
“Sorry,” Danae mumbled and handed over the remains of the meal. She licked the grease from her fingers and sighed. She felt a lot more human.
Manto tore off a few strips and threw them to the patiently sitting Lithos, then devoured what was left on the carcass.
“I didn’t mean to do it.”
“Umph?” Manto mumbled through a mouthful.
“The oracle,” Danae whispered. “I don’t know how I broke it, or why I keep having visions of a tree with golden apples. I only came to Delphi to be cured.”
Manto threw the bones to Lithos then took another swig of wine. “You don’t need to do that.” They wiped their mouth on the back of their hand. “We can talk freely here. So, what’s next?”
“Next?” It still felt like she and Manto were speaking different languages.
“The grand plan.” Manto’s eyes sparkled. “To liberate us from the gods.”
Danae gasped and instinctively recoiled. She expected Manto to suddenly drop dead or a thunderbolt to come crashing through the roof. But nothing happened.
She eased herself to her feet. “Thank you for rescuing me and for the food...but I really need to go.”
Manto lunged forward and grabbed Danae’s wrist. She tried to pull away, but Manto held her tight, desperation etched across their face.
“You can’t forsake us now. So many have died so the prophecy, your prophecy, could survive. You’re our only hope.”
Danae yanked her arm away. She could feel the eyes of the people around the fire on her back.
“You’ve got the wrong person,” she hissed. “I’m Danae, a fisherman’s daughter from Naxos. I don’t want to liberate us from the gods and I’m going home.” She straightened up.
Manto stared at her as though she had just shattered their world.
“You don’t know who you are,” they whispered.
“I just told you who I am. Goodbye, Manto.” She turned to leave.
“They’ll kill you.”
Danae hesitated. “I can sneak past the guards.”
Manto barked a hollow laugh. “I’m not talking about the guards. I’m talking about the gods.”