King of Ithaca (Adventures of Odysseus)

Antiphus led the way. Only Elatos remained, wishing the men goodbye before turning to retreat down the steps. As he placed his foot on the first step, though, he caught Castor’s eye and said in a hushed voice, ‘Meet me by the sacred pool when this is over. I have something to discuss with you.’ Eperitus was not given time to ponder Elatos’s words, as Castor pushed him in through the high, pillared doorway.

Viewed from the outside the temple looked small, but inside it had been delved into the rock-face and was as big as the great hall of the king’s palace in Alybas. The ceiling was high and dark, punctured by a hole through which the blue evening sky was visible. A large, well-stocked fire in the centre of the temple sent trails of smoke through the room, most of which eventually escaped out of the vent in the roof. In the side walls were alcoves that housed rough terracotta images of various gods, each of them lit by a flaming torch that left great black scars on the limestone plaster above. The plaster itself was decorated with what had once been colourful images of animals and men moving through a landscape of rivers and trees, but now these pictures were fading and in places had peeled away. The smoke of the fire and the torches had dulled some beyond recognition.

Only the far wall remained untouched. This was the sheer face of the mountain: rugged, grey and cold. Eating a line straight through its centre was a dark crack, just wide enough for two men to enter side by side. Eperitus strained his eyes to see into its blackness, but the firelight that filled the temple revealed nothing of whatever lay beyond. Then, as he watched, he heard a faint hissing that made his flesh creep. Suddenly he was reminded of what Elatos had said about the serpent that guarded the oracle. His hand instinctively sought the hilt of his sword and with a shudder he turned away.

To his left Thrasios was kneeling and holding the two goats by their stumpy horns. A second priest appeared from a side door and placed shallow bowls of water on the floor. A moment later the animals bowed their heads to drink, unconsciously giving their consent to be sacrificed. Hardly allowing the black animal to take a second lap of the water, Thrasios lifted it to the altar and, picking up his knife, cut off a wisp of its wiry hair. This he threw into the blazing fire whilst uttering prayers to Gaea, conducting the ritual with practised ease and with the relish of a man who enjoyed his work. Eperitus watched in admiration as he controlled the struggling beast with one hand then stunned it with a blow from the handle of his knife. A moment later, still calling on the goddess, he placed a large bowl beneath the goat’s limp head and slit its throat. Thrasios waited for the gush of blood to stop then handed the carcass to the other priest, who finished the work of cutting it up. The second animal met the same efficient death and its various parts were shared between the fire, as a burnt offering to the gods, and the priests, for their evening meal.

Once the act of sacrifice was complete, Thrasios took a torch from the wall and led them into the narrow crack at the back of the temple. It led into an unlit chamber where they waited as the priest cast the light of his torch this way and that, searching keenly for something in the blackness.

As the only light came from this single flame, it took their eyes a moment to adjust to the dimness. Eperitus could sense by the feel of the air and the echo of the small sounds they made that they were in a large cave, a pocket within the solid stone of the mountain. As Thrasios moved his torch through the gloom Eperitus glimpsed a natural archway leading into even deeper darkness beyond. Nothing else was visible, making him feel unnervingly exposed and vulnerable. Then he saw the light catch on something to his left, something shining that moved at incredible speed. Suddenly the torch was whipped out of the priest’s hand and they were plunged into darkness.

‘Don’t move!’ Thrasios hissed, his voice strangely distant, as if he stood on the far side of the cave. ‘If you draw your weapons you’ll be killed. It’s Python. He’s watching you.’ He sounded frightened. ‘You shouldn’t have insisted on coming so late. He’s confused.’

‘Don’t you have any power over the creature?’ Halitherses whispered urgently.

‘I can calm him, but you must remain silent. Don’t move.’

The great beast shifted across the stone floor not two strides away from them. Eperitus realized this was no mere snake but an animal of supernatural proportions. Fighting the urge to take out his sword, he dared to turn his head and behold the full horror of the monster.

Snakes, to Eperitus, were loathsome creatures. Their hideous limbless torsos, their cold skins and lipless mouths froze his flesh with disgust. As he beheld Python, with its vast coils contracting and stretching, it circled them once and then, to Eperitus’s horror, paused opposite him.