Transforming Oracle
by Kalen Cap
Smashwords Edition
Copyright 2010 Kalen Cap
Smashwords Edition, License Notes
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The author wishes to thank Joe Rutter for his technical assistance and ebook cover design.
Transforming Oracle
(Greece, 1030 B.C.)
Two mountain faces shined brightly. Oreste had heard travelers mention the Phaedrides. The Phaedrides were said to be how the higher gods watched Python, the underworld guide for the Pythian people of Delphi. Oreste had heard the Pythians were backward in their ways, though not distrusted like the primitive Pelasgians, who’d been only a day’s travel from their home.
“Let’s see whether the locals have any work for us,” Teris said.
With the brothers’ dog at his heel, Oreste followed Teris to the edge of the village nestled along Mount Parnassus, the nearer of the two mountains making up the Phaedrides.
Soon, a Pythian child called out. “Strangers are here.”
Pythians dashed to the village edge. Unless the Pythian village hid a giant Cyclope, Oreste would be taller than anyone living there. While his stature often worked to his advantage, his body was a big target if people were hostile.
A man stepped forward. “I am Zosimus, the leader of our village. Do you seek Python’s council?”
“Our patron is Apollo, who guides us well. Do you have any work we can do in exchange for resting here?” Teris asked. Teris took charge when the brothers came upon people as they traveled.
“Though few in number, we have enough for our own work,” Zosimus answered.
“Zosimus, priestess Aellai has asked for a platform arch. No other men here are allowed to help you with that, and our king forbids women to build such structures,” a woman said.
The woman was Zosimus’ wife, Iole. Oreste was surprised she publicly questioned her husband. His mother had only done that with his father after he’d taken ill.
“We’ll see whether Aellai approves. Lysandra, please give these men some water,” Zosimus said.
Lysandra was the village’s eldest woman. She told the two brothers that Aellai wouldn’t leave the inner sweet air chamber until sunset since it was a day she performed oracular services for travelers.
Lysandra further explained the priestess would normally have emerged when the shadow of an old tree fell on the omphalos stone in the wooden platform’s center. The platform stretched from outside the sweet air chamber housed along the mountain. A storm four days earlier had destroyed the tree, and its shadow no longer reached the stone. Among Pythians, only women and the village leader were allowed to set foot on the platform. However, men from outside the village could work there when it was not being used for ritual.
While waiting, Teris paced. Oreste and the dog more contentedly lazed about during the afternoon.
Lysandra provided them a meal before the sun fell. Oreste feigned pleasure with the meager portion, glad he’d saved a bit of rabbit from the day before.
After dinner, Zosimus led Oreste and Teris to the priestess’s wooden platform. Its only ornamentation was the large stone omphalos in the center. Oreste saw the remnants of the old tree that had perished there.
Zosimus explained to them that the priestess handled snakes on the platform for passing judgments every evening. She’d interpret the snakes’ movements and then proclaim the Underworld’s messages for the village.
When Aellai emerged from the sweet air chamber, Oreste noticed she was the best fed among her people, curves shaping an ample feminine figure.
The priestess’s assistant, Chrysanthe, walked behind Aellai, and carried three snakes. Two small snakes were wrapped around her arms. The largest snake Oreste had ever seen was wrapped around her waist. But, Chrysanthe’s beauty was what caused him to stare.
“Aellai, I have news,” Zosimus announced. “Two visitors here can help build the arch. I present them for your approval,”
“As well you should,” Aellai said. The priestess stepped off the platform and strode around the two brothers, her gaze lingering on Oreste. “Provided they bring me ten snakes by morning, they’ll do,” Aellai pronounced. “And now for the Delphyne.” She returned to the platform and pulled the large snake from Chrysanthe’s waist, then wrapped it around her own.
Lysandra then suggested places to catch snakes as she quickly led the brothers away to the village edge.
Oreste was distracted during the instructions. He had never seen a girl of such grace as Chrysanthe. She had gently walked in concert with the snakes as though they were trusted dogs. In contrast, Aellai had treated them like gold possessions.
Gathering the snakes that night proved challenging. Their dog wasn’t helpful, being partial to tracking rabbits. But by sunrise, the brothers had fourteen snakes. They ate several before taking ten back to the village.
When the brothers returned to the Delphi village, Zosimus took them to Aellai’s large hut and called out for the priestess.
Aellai received the snakes without comment. Oreste was glad to glimpse Chrysanthe again as Aellai handed the snakes to her.
“To feed your strength for building, Iole has prepared a good meal.” Zosimus said, beaming. Lysandra joined them for the morning meal.
Oreste admired the even-tempered Zosimus. Unlike most other village chiefs, Zosimus had an openhearted ease. During the meal, Teris questioned the leader about the village.
Zosimus explained as village chief, he managed everyday matters. The priestess was their spiritual leader. When it came to regional matters, he negotiated with whoever had taken power recently, but among Pythians, the priestess’s power was far-reaching. Further, kings often left the remote Delphi village unsupervised.
“It is good to be far from a king’s court. Kings are hard on their nearby lands,” Teris said.
“There’s no escaping hardship. Kings rule everywhere,” Lysandra said.
“Not true. Athens is overseen by archons now. Their second archon ascended some time ago,” Zosimus corrected.
“Oh, yes. Archons. Things do change quickly these days. Not like when I was a child.” Lysandra smiled.
“Lysandra has seen fifty-nine harvests,” Zosimus said.
Oreste was impressed by her longevity. He wondered if his mother would live as long. Teris had seen twenty-three harvests in his lifetime, but their eldest brother had inherited all their father’s land because he’d seen one more. The harvest during next moon would be Oreste’s seventeenth.
“Has there always been a snake dance ritual here?” Oreste asked. He was taken aback when Lysandra answered. Back home, only men would answer questions during a meal.
“The snake dance is very old. The platform was built for it when I was a little girl, following one of Python’s judgments.”
“I’m unfamiliar with Python,” Teris said, looking directly at Zosimus.
“Python is the progeny of goddess Gaia. Though a powerful link to the Underworld, Python can be testy. The rituals with our Delphyne, the great snake, calm her. When Python is calm, the oracles in the sweet air chamber are more favored, rather than distasteful,” Zosimus explained.
“Underworld beings can be more trouble than help,” Teris said. “Apollo leads us forthright.”
The Pythians froze briefly, before continuing to eat. Oreste felt Teris was being rude. Once Zosimus explained Python was of Gaia, he knew their practice had authority.
Oreste grew concerned about his brother’s attitude toward their hosts. Teris had whispered privately to him the Pythians were “worse than Pelasgians.” Oreste didn’t see either group as bad. He’d often preferred the primitive Pelasgians to his own people. The Pelasgians were at peace with the land. His people wrestled with the land to subdue it. From what he’d seen, the Pythians respected their land in ways similar to the primitives.
“We’re familiar with young god Apollo,” Zosimus said. “He likely uses the Phaedrides to oversee Python. As for Underworld trouble, our struggles with Python make our oracle strong. Look at Oreste. If he never physically struggled, he would be weak instead of muscular. Likewise, it is a spiritual struggle that strengthens our oracle.”
When later alone, Teris grumbled to Oreste. “Their oracle is more bothersome than Nekromanteion.” The brothers had steered clear of that oracle because it was tied to death.
“We are guests here. Let’s be friendly with the Pythians,” Oreste suggested.
“If theirs was like Zeus’s oracle at Dodona, then that would be worthy. I tell you; the Delphi oracle will never prosper.”
Oreste didn’t know what to say. He knew the gods controlled the oracles.
Later, Oreste, Teris, and Zosimus began constructing the arch. After they had worked a while, Chrysanthe approached them. “Please excuse me. Aellai needs Oreste to move a stone table,” she said.
“What does she want? Work done on the arch or her furnishings?” Zosimus complained.
“I could help while he assists her,” Chrysanthe offered.
“No, take him to Aellai,” Zosimus said. “It would not be proper otherwise.”
Aellai’s request hadn’t surprised Oreste. His talent for lifting heavy things was often sought.
Aellai’s hut had two full rooms. The first room contained more bowls and ornate furnishings than Oreste had ever seen in a home. Wooden figurines decorated the expanse. He had been to markets with less variety. He didn’t understand how a woman could be allowed so much when her fellow villagers had so little.
“The table along the wall. Bring it out three foot-lengths,” Aellai commanded.
The table was heavy. Oreste could only edge it along the ground.
“Chrysanthe, go feed the snakes,” Aellai said. The assistant dutifully complied.
“You have snakes in the back room?”
“There is a pit outside it. Perhaps I’ll send my assistant away. I can show it to you privately.” Aellai drew near him.
Oreste felt the priestess’s breath on his neck. He had the inkling Aellai wanted him to see more than a snake pit. The thought of it made him uneasy. He found her disagreeable. On the other hand, she was available and apparently willing.
Chrysanthe rushed back into the room. “The snakes are feeding now. I’m worried. They’re so crowded some will go hungry,” she said.
“The snakes are fine. Make yourself useful elsewhere,” Aellai commanded.
“But I’m to return Oreste to Zosimus for building the arch.”
“You assist me, not Zosimus.”
“Forgive me. I do serve you, as is my duty. And you serve Zosimus and all the village, as is the priestess’s duty.”
Oreste’s spirits soared listening to Chrysanthe. In his eyes, she outshone Aellai in every way. He finished moving the table and scurried to the door.
“Go then,” Aellai said, waving her hand in dismissal. The priestess dabbed her fingers in a bowl and flicked a liquid about the room. The scent of flowers filled the air. Though he’d heard of perfume, Oreste hadn’t experienced its overpowering scent before.
As the two walked back to the platform, Oreste became bold. “You enchant me.”
“I’m no enchantress,” Chrysanthe said.
“Then why do I have such tender feelings for you?”
Chrysanthe blushed, then whispered, “Don’t walk close. If Aellai sees you desire me, she’ll keep us apart.”
“Then, let’s make her believe the opposite.”
Oreste stepped away and spoke harshly. Chrysanthe quickly caught on to his ruse. They engaged in a battle of words before becoming silent. He did glance back and see Aellai watching them from her hut.
Much later, after the sun had reached its highest, the Pythian priestess returned with Chrysanthe to the platform. “Why aren’t you using the shells?” Aellai asked.
“We’ll add them later,” Zosimus said tiredly.
“No! They must be included now, as Python designed.” Aellai flicked perfumed water on Oreste and Teris.
“What is this? Stop that,” Teris said.
Oreste agreed with Teris. The perfume made it difficult to breathe.
“Your odor’s disgusting. This smells sweet,” Aellai said.
Oreste didn’t understand her complaint. He and Teris had fully bathed less than a half moon ago.
Aellai perused the grounds. “There are too few shells. Chrysanthe, take Oreste to the shore and gather more.”
“How can we complete your arch if you keep taking away our third man?” Teris challenged.
“This will be good, Teris. We can rest our backs a bit. Come. See how we tend our fields. Let them do as Aellai asks,” Zosimus said.
“Take our dog with you,” Teris suggested resignedly.
Oreste remained quiet while Chrysanthe led him away. Since Aellai sent them away together, it appeared that their earlier ruse had worked.
The dog slowed their progress, running off, sniffing this and that. It gave them time to leisurely chat. As they walked along, Chrysanthe told him stories about Delphi’s region.
Upon reaching the shore, Oreste dove into the water. When he emerged dripping wet, he glimpsed desire in Chrysanthe’s eyes.
They gathered shells while the dog played at the water’s edge. Once they’d gathered two skins full, Oreste set about securing them. The dog bounded into him, buckling his knees. He toppled into Chrysanthe, and the two fell.
The touch of her skin jolted Oreste. “You’re beautiful,” he said.
“So are you,” Chrysanthe answered. She then pulled away. “We should hurry back.”
About halfway back to the village, Oreste said, “You shouldn’t be involved in rituals with Underworld spirits. You’re too beautiful, too innocent for those. You should have a family.”
“A priestess may have both. Aellai’s way isn’t the only one,” Chrysanthe said.
“Could a priestess embrace the higher gods for your oracle? Teris would like that.”
“Teris’s focus on higher gods is the other extreme of Aellai’s. Neither embraces the essence of life around us.”
“You may be right. Apollo welcomes moderation, even in devotion to him. So, if not Underworld spirits or higher gods, where would you focus?”
“The here and now. While there is a spiritual journey in the sweet air chamber, its destination is this life, not some vaporous place in the heavens or the Underworld.”
“There’s a journey in the chamber?”
“A spiritual one. Let me explain. When I was little, the priestess before Aellai told me that in olden times, the sweet air chamber was used for a quest. The quest was an ethereal journey along the sacred spiral to the animal spirit of snake. Animal spirits connect us more securely to the essence of life around us.”
“You said that was in olden times. Has that changed?”
“To avoid being destroyed by Cyclopeans sometime ago, our chamber’s journey’s story became one to the Underworld, so those beings there would provide the oracle’s messages. The oracle’s story changed, but the old ways have wisdom. Aellai says the old ways are gone. She’s never encountered the animal spirit of snake, but I have. While in the chamber with her, I’ve come across the spirits of goat and wolf, too.”
Oreste considered Chrysanthe’s words as they walked. When Delphi came into sight in the distance, Chrysanthe set her full skin down and dropped to the ground.
“Do you need me to carry your shell pack?” Oreste offered.
“No. That would not be proper. Aellai says the priestess must be strong, though I never see her lift anything. I am only tired. Tired from walking and tired of Aellai. Being with you today is the first time I haven’t been lonely in many moons.”
“Lonely?”
“The priestess usually has her own family and the assistant serves that family. But to hold men’s attention as much as possible, Aellai stays unwed. Having only Aellai for companionship feels worse than having no one. I shouldn’t speak ill of her. I’m to succeed her and wouldn’t want others to speak ill of me. We should press on.”
Oreste and Chrysanthe talked the rest of the way to the village. He’d usually found talking with women to be difficult. With her, he spoke freely and told her stories about his homeland.
Back home, Oreste had known everyone. He’d been popular. Last moon, their mother had said Teris and Oreste must move on to build their lives elsewhere. Their eldest brother’s family was growing, and their land no longer provided enough to feed everyone. Unlike the past few weeks, speaking of his family didn’t sadden him when talking with Chrysanthe about them.
When they arrived back at the platform, Zosimus gave them a knowing nod. Oreste’s face reddened and Chrysanthe hurried away. He was glad Aellai hadn’t seen them getting along so well.
Oreste set to work, securing shells to the arch. The full job would require another day’s work.
Shadows extended with the sun’s descent. Oreste was daydreaming of evening rest when he felt a light splash on the back of his neck. Aellai was flicking perfume again.
“Will you cease, woman? We must breathe to work,” Teris said.
“Your stench offends,” Aellai countered.
“We smell only of hard work you want done, Aellai.” Zosimus hoisted another piece onto the arch while Oreste secured it.
“The time for the snake dance draws near, and this scent is pleasing to Python.” Aellai continued to flick the perfume.
“Pleasing to Python or you? Apollo cares not whether people smell of flowers or manure. A priestess should do without perfume. The priestesses of the Dodona oracle live the simplest life of all their region’s people,” Teris said.
“Their priesthood is poor because no one trusts Dodona’s fledgling counsel. In Delphi, Kronos has tested us. Delphi’s oracle gives time-tested answers. Visitors arrive here in doubt and leave transformed. That is why we prosper,” Aellai said.
“Prosper? Only you are well fed here, Aellai. Your woman curves are the most ample among the Pythians. The priestesses of Dodona are thin and hunger only to serve the high god Zeus for their people.”
“Your looking to the high gods’ light blinds you to reality here. Teris, you’ve left your home with nothing. So, you rely on us. And we rely on Python. The Underworld spirits must be well served. That is my work. Your work is the arch. Or does Apollo want his men speaking with women about their curves when they’re hired builders?”
Teris became silent. Oreste was relieved when Aellai left for her hut. Not long after, Zosimus said they should stop for the day.
After a welcome, generous meal, Teris took the dog exploring lower Mount Parnassus. As dusk arrived, Oreste hurried to a grove of trees. He sat low and waited. Soon, Chrysanthe joined him.
“I can’t stay long. I must help Aellai,” Chrysanthe said.
“I’m glad for any moment with you.”
“You’re not like other visitors. Most think us strange, though paying for our counsel.”
“I like your people. Only Aellai is troublesome.”
“Aellai is unique.”
“So, when you are the priestess, will you be different? Will you have the freedom to make changes?”
“A priestess has more freedom than anyone. How she completes rituals, how she sets her home - all are choices for the priestess.”
Oreste smiled contentedly, touching her hair.
“I must get back.” Chrysanthe hurried away before he could protest.
Lysandra greeted Oreste when he returned to the village. “Tell me, Oreste, what’s on your mind?”
He thought he’d hidden the concerns of his heart. His views about women were changing. Before arriving at Delphi, he’d never understood how a man could wed one woman for his entire life. But suddenly that didn’t seem a mystery.
“I’ve learned what a man’s face reveals over my many years,” Lysandra added.
“I want to know more about life here. I’ve heard the priestess often has a family. What kind of man are they allowed to marry?”
He and Lysandra talked until the darkness of early night took hold. He learned he had a chance with Chrysanthe. Before he could confess his desires openly, Lysandra said they had to return for the snake dance ritual.
The villagers gathered near the platform. Grounded torches on both sides provided subdued lighting. Oreste drew near to see Chrysanthe, though careful to stay behind the villagers. Teris stepped next to him.
Aellai removed the great snake from Chrysanthe’s waist. She then wrapped the great snake, the Delphyne, over her arms and reached toward the sky. She shimmied left and right, then back and forth. She brought the snake close to her loins and whirled around tightly. She then twirled her hands and dropped the snake.
Chrysanthe grimaced, appearing stricken when the snake hit the platform.
“Answer us, Delphyne! What are Python’s desires?” Aellai turned and took the two smaller snakes from Chrysanthe. She tossed them down and then shimmied around them as the three stunned animals slowly slithered along each other. Oreste couldn’t see how she could discern anything from their movements.
Aellai called out. “People of Delphi, Python has judged. A sweet essence is needed. We must assuage Python’s displeasure with appealing fragrance. Python desires not only the oracle chamber to be sweet, but all of Delphi.”
Oreste didn’t understand the judgment. Did Aellai want perfume spread around the entire village? That would be costly.
“It is Aellai who wants Delphi smelling sweet,” Teris whispered to Oreste.
Aellai continued. “A tradesman is due in a few days. We must hurry to comply with Python’s wishes. Together, we’ll gather enough to trade for the sweet essence. Everyone must sacrifice to stand right with Python and the high gods.”
“This is criminal,” Teris mumbled. Then, he yelled. “Don’t bring the high gods into your travesty!”
Oreste nudged his brother’s arm and stepped back, surprised by his interference. It was Teris who had warned him against opposing others’ customs.
“Who dares question Python?” Aellai screeched.
“No question. It is all clear. There’s no question you lack piety, Aellai. I, Teris, devoted to Apollo, call you out. This judgment only comes from your own greed, not a greater being.”
“The Delphyne has revealed this to all. I only interpret,” Aellai said. Everyone else stood silent. “Delphyne is of Python. Python is of Gaia. Gaia is of all gods.”
“Delphyne is of a snake egg and only does what any snake would do,” Teris said. He approached Aellai until he stood just off the platform.
“It is evil for you to come so close during our ritual,” Aellai said.
“Your tongue is the only evil here.” Teris jumped onto the platform, penetrating its border.
Villagers gasped. Mothers covered their children’s eyes. Aellai stood still, momentarily stunned.
“Aellai, you foster new disorder after Chaos was long ago defeated by the high gods. Apollo gives order, not depravity such as yours. And this,” Teris said, grabbing the Delphyne from the floor with one hand, ”this is merely a snake.” Teris then took his packing knife and sliced into the animal, setting upon it repeatedly before dropping the snake, the knife embedded in its carcass.
Aellai screamed. “Cage them!”
The villagers responded dutifully. Several men grabbed Oreste. The women and Zosimus grabbed Teris, dragging him off the platform.