Authors: Paul Bannister
Arthur Imperator (26 page)
Months after her father’s death and Diana’s visit, Camilla decided one day to venture beyond her habitual hunting grounds. Metabus had always told her that it was better to lead a solitary existence and avoid contact with other humans.
“There is nothing that the woods cannot provide,” he used to say. “So long as we keep offering sacrifices to Silvanus, god of the woods, we will be fine. We have no need to go to the lands of other humans and mingle with them or, worse, become the hunted.” Then he would again tell her the story about their narrow escape from the angry mob at Privernum only a few hours after she was born.
While her father was alive she had been happy to follow his wishes. But now that he had become part of perpetual night and considering that she had always been fearless, as well as curious, she saw no reason not to go exploring. She went to sleep making all kinds of plans in her mind and kept drifting between the lessons she had learned from Diana and those learned from her father, as well as some of the stories he used to tell her. The last story she remembered going over before dozing off was the one about Scythes. He was one of the many sons of Jupiter, and the inventor of the bow and arrow, who had introduced Diana herself to archery. He had also sent her to the Cyclopes to get a magical quiver that would always fill right up after she had sent her arrows flying.
Camilla had not been asleep long when the watchful Aurora opened her purple doors in the ruddy east and her halls filled with roses. The stars disappeared, the troops whereof Lucifer gathered, and moved the last from his position in the heavens. She got up and, after eating a breakfast of cold roast boar – the leftovers of a huge wild boar she had speared the day before – and sacrificing to Diana and to Silvanus, she picked up her weapons and checked to see in which direction the wind was blowing. She started walking north so she could be upwind from any possible predators. Opis, in the semblance of a sweet-singing bird, followed her, as she did every day.
Hours later, when Lucifer was shining in the lofty sky in all his splendor and making the smallest shadow from the head downwards, Camilla arrived outside a small village nested in the woods. She had never seen huts before, whether rectangular or of any other shape, and was particularly intrigued by the humans she saw there, the first humans other than her father she had seen, but certainly not the last. The young huntress got as close as she could, making sure she remained hidden from view.
Some of the humans were making quite a bit of noise and moving about a lot, throwing something back and forth. Camilla was trying to figure out what they were doing when, all of a sudden, the object being thrown flew into the trees to her right. A member of the spirited group ran to fetch the object – a small ball made of compressed wool wrapped in string – but when she picked it up and turned, she practically bumped into Camilla. They stared at each other for a long time without saying a word. The girl who had the ball in her hands had never seen someone clad in animal skins, with a tiger’s hide slung over her back and shoulders. As for Camilla, she had never seen someone wearing a long trailing robe, and with her hair bound in colorful ribbons. It was Camilla who finally made a move, getting closer to the girl and touching her hair. The girl then touched the tiger’s hide, which made Camilla retreat a few steps.
“Acca!” shouted one of the group. “Is everything all right over there? Did you find the ball?”
The girl who had found it among the trees yelled back:
“Yes, I did, but I want you all to come over here! Right away! You are not going to believe this!”
The rest of the group came running and stood there, staring at Camilla just as Acca had done.
“Who are you,” Acca asked Camilla at last, “and where did you come from?”
Camilla did not answer at first, so Acca turned to her friends.
“Tulla, Tarpeia, Larina,” she said, “do you think we are in the presence of one of the immortals? Diana, perhaps?”
Camilla finally spoke, saying that she was just the goddess’ handmaiden, not an immortal.
“And do you have a name?” asked the girl.
“I am Camilla the Volscian,” she replied.
“We are all Volscians as well,” said Tulla, delighted. “But how come we have never seen you before? Have you even been to the yearly festivals where the people of all the Volscian towns gather together to honor the goddess? If you had, we would certainly remember you; wouldn’t we, girls?”
Camilla was not sure how much information the four girls needed at that time.
“I live in the woods and spend all my time hunting,” she told them. “I don’t have time to go to festivals.”
“This year’s festival will be starting in three days,” replied Tarpeia. “Why don’t you go with us?”
Camilla started to consider it. Then she heard that the goddess in question, to whose festival she was being invited, was no other than Diana. So she promptly agreed to come back in a few days. Since her home was several hours away, she presently headed back, shooting a rabbit on her way, which she later roasted and had for supper. Then she sought a little rest, until Lucifer should usher forth the fires of Aurora, the chariot of the day.
Camilla spent the next few days going back to observe the villagers, well hidden among the trees, more carefully hidden than the day Acca had found her. She wanted to make sure that she understood these humans and their customs a little better before spending time with them again. Up in the trees, Opis was getting a little bored with this routine, but there was nothing she could do about it. She had to follow Diana’s instructions, as always.
On the day of the festival, as promised, Camilla arrived back at the spot where she had met the girls, just as the families of the village were setting out for Mount Algidus. Acca had with her a clean, spare tunic, which she handed to Camilla.
“You don’t want to draw attention to yourself with your animal skins,” she told Camilla. “Why don’t you wear this? Most girls going to the festival will be wearing a short, sleeveless tunic, just like the one the goddess wears.”
Camilla agreed and quickly stepped behind some trees to change into the tunic Acca had brought. Tarpeia lent her a pair of sandals. Fortunately the bow and quiver did not look out of place, since the festival was in honor of the goddess of the hunt.
The girls set out together and fell to talking as they walked. Camilla soon felt she could trust them a bit and talked about her life as a huntress. For the time being, however, she decided not to bring up again her special relationship with Diana or go into any detail, and the girls didn’t seem to remember that anyway. And she also thought there was no need to talk about Privernum and her father, at least not yet. She wasn’t sure if his memory and the hatred for him had faded in the eighteen years since he had been forced to leave in a hurry.
The four Volscian girls were very interested in what Camilla had to say about her life in the woods and kept asking her all kinds of questions. Before they knew it, they arrived at Mount Algidus, where they joined the crowds that had arrived, and were still arriving, from the other Volscian towns and villages.
Diana’s priest, the
rex
nemorensis
, was standing in the portico of the temple, with his back to the people. It was a beautiful temple, with thirty-six marble columns supporting a massive roof. One out of every nine columns had bases that were exquisitely carved with figures in high relief. The priest’s assistants, standing on either side of him, were in charge of the people’s offerings. As soon as someone standing in line made it to the front, the assistants looked at the gift. If it was an animal or food that was going to be part of the sacrifices offered to the deity, they made a marking on a wooden tablet and ordered the person to drop it off next to the altar. Camilla noticed that there were a ram and a pig tied with a rope and a few pigeons in a small cage, as well as sesame and honey cakes, cheese, and many jugs of wine. All other offerings the assistants took from those who were bearing them and deposited them at the base of the goddess’ statue. In the time that the girls were in line Diana received a sleeved tunic in a box, a short embroidered tunic, a woman’s girdle, a white cloak, an ivory lyre and a wooden pick inlaid with ivory, a silver bowl, and a gold ring. This last item was Acca’s family’s offering, and the bowl was Tarpeia’s.
When temple personnel had relieved all those who had brought gifts for Diana, the priest walked over to the altar and invoked the goddess by whispering a prayer that only he could hear. Then he picked up a mixing bowl full of undiluted wine and poured some of it on the animals. Next he sprinkled salted emmer flour on them and, pulling back their heads, slit their throats, one after the other, letting all the blood drain out. Then, while whispering another prayer, he slit open their underbellies and removed their still trembling entrails, inspecting them to make sure they were not defective. Next he poured more wine over the entrails and roasted them until they were charred, offering the smoke to the goddess. The assistants then took the carcasses emptied of innards to a large cooking pit next to the temple, where they were roasted for the communal feast of Diana’s worshipers.
As soon as the priest had finished with the sacrifice, a collective sigh of relief was heard. All those who were present knew that the activities had to follow very clearly defined rituals, and that these had to be performed correctly, down to the last detail. If the priest made a mistake of any kind or stuttered, or if an animal made a sound or put up any resistance, or the entrails didn’t look perfect – whatever it was that perfect entrails were supposed to look like, only the priest knew – then the ritual had to be started all over again. Today, however, everything had gone well.
The rest of the festival took nearly all day, and there was much singing and chanting of joyous paeans. Camilla’s friends joined in the singing of their favorite hymn to Diana, raising their voices as much as they could:
“We sing of Diana, whose arrows are of gold, who urges on the hounds, the pure maiden, shooter of deer, who delights in archery, sister of Apollo, with whom she was fostered. Over the hills and peaks she draws her golden bow, rejoicing in the chase, and sends out her winged arrows. The mountain peaks tremble and the green woods echo with the cries of beasts. But the far-shooting goddess bravely turns everywhere destroying all the wild animals.”
At this point all the singers of the hymn pretended they were holding a bow and pulling back the string, then letting go of the imaginary string and sending myriad arrows flying through the air.
“And when she has sent shafts left and right to her heart’s content, the huntress slackens her bow and goes to the great house of her dear father Jupiter, on the topmost ridges of Olympus, to dance with the Muses and the Graces. There the virgin goddess hangs up her cornel-wood bow and her painted quiver filled with golden arrows, and while she dances, all the other deities sing in a heavenly voice, how her mother, the Titan Leto, bore children who excel all in thought and in deed. Hail to you, child of Jupiter, hurler of thunderbolts, and of fair Leto!”
Here all the singers raised their hands to heaven at the same time before singing the closing part.
“And we will remember you always in this song, and in many other songs as well, our revered lady Diana!”
Another hymn that the girls were fond of spoke of Diana’s many nymphs and her most beloved ones, including Britomartis, Opis, and Kyrene. These were the first who wore the gallant bow and arrow-holding quivers on their shoulders, according to the hymn. Their right shoulders bore the quiver strap, and their right breast showed bare always. To conclude, everyone sang:
“Lady of many shrines, of many cities, hail! Let none disparage Diana, nor let any contend with her in archery. Neither let any woo the maiden; nor let any shun the yearly dance. Hail, great queen, and graciously greet my song.”
In between events, the girls walked around the grounds and ran into old friends as well as cousins from other villages. Camilla was duly introduced to them, and she had a hard time remembering their names, because there seemed to be quite a few friends and relatives, and they, all had names that sounded very similar, at least to Camilla.
When the festival came to an end, all those who had attended went back to their towns and villages. Camilla and her new friends again talked all the way. Acca asked Camilla if she knew the story of Actaeon.
“No, I don’t think I’ve heard that one,” answered Camilla.
“Well,” said Acca, who would one day become Camilla’s best friend and confidante. “I like that story of impiety and divine punishment, so here it goes. Once not long ago, Actaeon had gone hunting with his friends.”
“Don’t forget to say that Actaeon was the grandson of Cadmus the Theban,” interrupted Larina.
“I was just going to say that,” said Acca. “So, when their knotted nets and their spears were soaked with the blood of wild beasts, they decided that they had had enough for one day, and so they went home. All except, Actaeon. Instead of going back, he went for a walk in an unknown part of the woods. Soon he came to a little stream in a grove where Diana was bathing her limbs.”
“What was the name of the stream?” Larina interrupted again.
“I always forget, Larina, but I don’t think that it is important to the story,” said Acca impatiently. “So, to continue, the nymphs who were with her that day, Crocale, Nephele, Hyale, and Rhanis, began to shriek when they saw the hunter. They gathered around the goddess, trying to cover her with their bodies. An impossible task, because Diana was much taller than the nymphs.”