‘How small are the minds of men,’ remarked Afrand as she watched them go. She bowed her head to me.
‘Welcome, King Pacorus, you honour us with your presence.’
I returned the gesture. ‘Your servant, lady. I have to confess that I am a little confused by the message I received summoning me here.’
‘Your friend was right — a tall man on a white horse with a scarred face,’ she said.
‘And where is this “friend” now?’ I asked.
‘With the goddess,’ Afrand replied. ‘Can I offer you refreshments?’
‘No, thank you. I would like to see her now.’
‘Very well. Follow me, majesty.’
We walked across the courtyard, which was now empty of people, through an arch in a stonewall that led to a second courtyard. On the roofs of the buildings that surrounded this courtyard were at least two score of dovecotes housing dozens of white doves. Afrand saw me admiring them.
‘White doves are the personal birds of Ishtar. Worshippers purchase sacred cakes made in our own kitchens, which they crumble and feed to them. Thus do they hope to gain favour with the goddess.’
‘And does it work?’ I enquired innocently.
Afrand looked at me with her large hazel eyes. ‘The goddess grants those who are worthy what they desire.’
‘And how many are worthy?’
‘She said that you were always full of questions,’ she replied.
‘Who?’
‘Your friend.’
We carried on walking across the second courtyard to a building at the far end that had a façade decorated with niches and narrow buttresses. Two guards stood at the centrally placed entrance cut in the brickwork — two golden doors. They snapped to attention as Afrand approached and then one banged on the doors.
They opened and Afrand beckoned me to enter.
‘These are the goddesses’ personal quarters which only a chosen few may enter. Come, King Pacorus.’
She walked inside and I followed. We entered a windowless chamber lit by oil lamps hanging from the walls and filled with the aroma of burning jasmine. As my eyes got accustomed to the half-light I could see a white curtain hanging from a gold rail in front of me that led to another room. Two priestesses dressed in white approached and bowed to me, one holding out her hands.
‘Your friend waits beyond the curtain with the goddess but you must leave your sword here. No weapons are permitted in the presence of Ishtar.’
I unbuckled my belt, handed my sword and dagger to the priestess then walked forward. I stopped and turned to Afrand.
‘Are you not coming?’
She shook her head. ‘Her words are for your ears only. Do not fear, you are beloved of the gods. Place the lock of your wife’s hair on the altar before you ask a question. You can retrieve it once the audience is over.’
I felt a chill go down my spine. ‘How do you know of such a thing?’
Afrand seemed surprised at my question. ‘Your friend told me, of course. How else would I know of such an intimate item?’
I swallowed and walked towards the curtain, then pulled it back and entered Ishtar’s sanctuary. This room was even darker than the other chamber; a handful of oil lamps cast a dim light. The smell of jasmine was even stronger. I strained my eyes to observe the room, which like the one I had just left was windowless but had a lower ceiling. There were no seats or other furniture, just gold stands on which incense burned. I walked forward to approach the statue of Ishtar that stood on a marble pedestal, a low altar placed before it to receive offerings. I reached inside my shirt and lifted the chain that held the lock of Gallia’s hair over my head and placed it on the altar. My heart was pounding in my chest as I stared at the statue carved from alabaster and inlaid with rubies. The goddess stood naked before me, supporting her breasts with her hands. She was curvaceous and seductive just like her priestesses.
The smell of jasmine began to make me feel light-headed as I stood in front of the altar. I strained my eyes to discern any movement or sound. There was none.
‘Pacorus.’
I was startled by my name being whispered. I looked around but could discern no one else in the room.
‘You have achieved much and yet there is so much more that you must do.’
It was a woman’s voice, soft yet strong, commanding yet kind. My heartbeat increased.
‘Are you, are you Ishtar, lady?’
She laughed, though it was not in a mocking way.
‘Oh, Pacorus, you are just the same as when I first met you. I am not a goddess. I am your friend.’
‘Do you have a name, lady?’
‘That is not important. What is important is that you remain strong for your task is not yet complete. Your enemies grow strong but the gods have sent you helpers who will aid you to defeat them. But they are not kings and princes.’
‘I do not understand.’
‘Do you not? Then I will help you see. The one born in the land of water must be given his own army, and you must journey with the one who came from the desert who will furnish you with temple gold. It is always darkest before the dawn, Pacorus. You must keep the faith, little one.’
I turned to face my celestial visitor but when I did there was nothing but an empty space. I waited for a few more minutes to see if she would speak to me again but there were no more words. I picked up the chain and replaced it round my neck and then left the sanctuary, confused. Afrand saw my confusion as she escorted me back to Remus.
‘The gods speak in riddles,’ I said at length.
‘Your friend was not a god, she was as real as you or I.’
Now I was even more confused. ‘But you sent me into the holy sanctuary of Ishtar.’
‘Because that is where she wanted to see you.’
I was getting angry now. ‘And you let this person, whom you had never seen before, just wander into your holy of holies? She could have been any trickster or liar.’
Afrand remained calm as I hoisted myself into Remus’ saddle. She held his reins.
‘All the priestesses who serve Ishtar here are chosen by the goddess for their special and unique gifts. For example, one can see things that will happen in the future. Yesterday she had a vision of a dark-haired woman walking into the temple and asking me to send a message to King Pacorus of Dura. The priestess told me that this woman would tell me of the scar on your cheek, the others on your back and leg, and the lock of your wife’s blonde hair you always wear round your neck.’
‘These things are known to many people,’ I answered.
‘The visitor also told me of the last time you saw each other, when you kissed her hand when she held it out to you, though she meant for you to take it, on that storm-lashed night when her son was born and you promised to take care of him.’
I looked at her and my blood ran cold.
‘Did she give you her name?’ I asked.
‘Of course. It was Claudia.’
Chapter 9
I said nothing to Gallia or anyone else about my experience at the temple. I rode from Afrand and her seductresses with an angry heart, thinking I had been the victim of a cheap trick. But if that was so, how did she know about that night in the Silarus Valley long ago when I had indeed held the hand of Claudia after she had given birth to the son of Spartacus? And what purpose would it serve to deceive me thus? What was I to the high priestess of Ishtar? With these thoughts swirling in my mind I rode back to the palace to find Gallia waiting for me in our private chambers.
‘Where have you been?’ she quizzed me.
‘Sightseeing,’ I answered evasively.
‘Well, now that you are here I wish to ask you a favour.’
She had changed from her riding gear and was dressed in a sheer, sleeveless white dress. She was standing framed in the arch that led to our bedroom balcony, the sunlight streaming into the room and highlighting her naked body beneath her dress. I let my eyes go from hers down to her breasts and then her thighs.