more powerful.'
She tasted the brew, nodded, and we poured it into a pottery jar marked with the three-legged cross, the sign of Hekate. Then she collected a series of flasks and a jug of milk mingled with honey, and we left the temple.
Eidyia, the queen, caught us as we came into the women's quarters. She was slim and beautiful, the wife of my father. Her hair was a rich chestnut, for she came from the mountains towards the west, where women are fair and, unafraid of prophecy, men gather gold from the icy streams. Her father had given her to Aetes, the youngest daughter in a house of daughters, even though he knew of the oracle. He had many daughters and could afford to lose one to cement an alliance with Aetes of Colchis. We knew that she had lain with him, but she had not yet conceived.
My father treated her well, if distantly. She was dressed in the finest woven wool, dyed bright red, and she was hung about with gold; a ram's head torc at her throat, a crown, bracelets, rings and an embossed belt. The queen of Colchis wore enough gold to ransom a prince. But her lower lip was caught between her teeth and her smooth brow was furrowed. She held Trioda's sleeve in her soft, perfumed hand. I smelt a waft of summer flowers from her garments and her hair.
'Hekate's maiden, he calls for me again,' she whispered.
Trioda hefted her burden on one bony hip and said, 'Does he so? And are you still resolved, daughter?'
'I want to live,' said the queen almost under her breath. Trioda smiled, rummaged in the basket and produced a tiny flask, like the one which Achaeans put on graves to hold tears. It was sealed with the double seal, which meant that it was poisonous. No priestess wants to put her hands on the wrong flask in the dark. Really lethal concoctions, snake venom or hemlock, have three seals. The queen snatched it and hid it in her cloak, so fast that only a really dedicated watcher would have seen the transaction.
'How is the king?' asked Trioda, easily.
'He is recovering,' replied Eidyia. 'The medicines are working. And, of course, the prayers of the temple of Ammon,' she added hastily.
'They are eating well while the king's illness continues,' said Trioda dryly. 'They sacrifice a bull daily and feast on beef after the god has eaten his portion. When he recovers, they will chafe at their diet of pulse and grain. Do not allow them to give him any potions, daughter and lady.'
The queen nodded. Her silky hair fell forward over her face. I think she was afraid of Trioda. I bent my head for her blessing, and gave it quickly, then was gone into the women's quarters in a swirl of scarlet.
I was pleased with that cloak. It had been my first attempt at dyeing a fine colour. One finds the galls on oak trees in which the insects are working, and sprinkles them with new wine to prevent the emergence of the moth - though one out of five must be marked for the goddess, or the tribe of worms will die out. Then one steeps the galls in boiling water, and extracts the dye. It is concentrated, and I coloured my hands red for half a moon before it wore off. But the cloak had held up well through washing, even though Trioda said I had used too much salt to fix it. Salt comes from Poti and is very expensive. What decoction, I asked myself, was the queen requiring of Hekate, and why? Was she poisoning my father?
I could not ask Trioda while we were in the palace. We went to the king's chamber, but were denied - the attendant said he was asleep. The slave had a black bruise across half his face, indicating that the king's temper had not improved. Trioda sat him down and applied all-heal ointment to the hot swollen skin. I noticed how the boy relaxed under her hands - deft, sure, and drinking in his pain. When she let him rise again, he was relieved but wary, as though, perhaps, her treatment had stolen something from him.
We left our potion in the hands of the king's counsellor, Eupolis, an old man and trusted. It is the ancient law in
She tasted the brew, nodded, and we poured it into a pottery jar marked with the three-legged cross, the sign of Hekate. Then she collected a series of flasks and a jug of milk mingled with honey, and we left the temple.
Eidyia, the queen, caught us as we came into the women's quarters. She was slim and beautiful, the wife of my father. Her hair was a rich chestnut, for she came from the mountains towards the west, where women are fair and, unafraid of prophecy, men gather gold from the icy streams. Her father had given her to Aetes, the youngest daughter in a house of daughters, even though he knew of the oracle. He had many daughters and could afford to lose one to cement an alliance with Aetes of Colchis. We knew that she had lain with him, but she had not yet conceived.
My father treated her well, if distantly. She was dressed in the finest woven wool, dyed bright red, and she was hung about with gold; a ram's head torc at her throat, a crown, bracelets, rings and an embossed belt. The queen of Colchis wore enough gold to ransom a prince. But her lower lip was caught between her teeth and her smooth brow was furrowed. She held Trioda's sleeve in her soft, perfumed hand. I smelt a waft of summer flowers from her garments and her hair.
'Hekate's maiden, he calls for me again,' she whispered.
Trioda hefted her burden on one bony hip and said, 'Does he so? And are you still resolved, daughter?'
'I want to live,' said the queen almost under her breath. Trioda smiled, rummaged in the basket and produced a tiny flask, like the one which Achaeans put on graves to hold tears. It was sealed with the double seal, which meant that it was poisonous. No priestess wants to put her hands on the wrong flask in the dark. Really lethal concoctions, snake venom or hemlock, have three seals. The queen snatched it and hid it in her cloak, so fast that only a really dedicated watcher would have seen the transaction.
'How is the king?' asked Trioda, easily.
'He is recovering,' replied Eidyia. 'The medicines are working. And, of course, the prayers of the temple of Ammon,' she added hastily.
'They are eating well while the king's illness continues,' said Trioda dryly. 'They sacrifice a bull daily and feast on beef after the god has eaten his portion. When he recovers, they will chafe at their diet of pulse and grain. Do not allow them to give him any potions, daughter and lady.'
The queen nodded. Her silky hair fell forward over her face. I think she was afraid of Trioda. I bent my head for her blessing, and gave it quickly, then was gone into the women's quarters in a swirl of scarlet.
I was pleased with that cloak. It had been my first attempt at dyeing a fine colour. One finds the galls on oak trees in which the insects are working, and sprinkles them with new wine to prevent the emergence of the moth - though one out of five must be marked for the goddess, or the tribe of worms will die out. Then one steeps the galls in boiling water, and extracts the dye. It is concentrated, and I coloured my hands red for half a moon before it wore off. But the cloak had held up well through washing, even though Trioda said I had used too much salt to fix it. Salt comes from Poti and is very expensive. What decoction, I asked myself, was the queen requiring of Hekate, and why? Was she poisoning my father?
I could not ask Trioda while we were in the palace. We went to the king's chamber, but were denied - the attendant said he was asleep. The slave had a black bruise across half his face, indicating that the king's temper had not improved. Trioda sat him down and applied all-heal ointment to the hot swollen skin. I noticed how the boy relaxed under her hands - deft, sure, and drinking in his pain. When she let him rise again, he was relieved but wary, as though, perhaps, her treatment had stolen something from him.
We left our potion in the hands of the king's counsellor, Eupolis, an old man and trusted. It is the ancient law in
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