The Goddess of Buttercups and Daisies (7 page)

Metris had admitted to Bremusa that she didn’t have the ability to locate anyone. That was true, as far as the nymph knew. There was no real reason that she should. Her mother had been a powerful being, but these powers were not always passed down. The world of the semi-divines – the cult heroes, spirits, nymphs, centaurs and all the rest – was not known to run on any logical system. Despite her supposed lack of power, Metris didn’t have any trouble locating Luxos. She could sense his presence. She walked south, down through the long walls, towards the port at Piraeus. Though keen to find him, she paused on her way to admire the Athenian statues, of which there were many. Metris loved the statues. They were vibrant, lifelike, imposing, and brightly coloured. All the best Greek sculptors had worked here.

Near the harbour, the surroundings were less pleasant. There were beggars on the streets and the air smelled of rotting fish. The houses were small and ramshackle, and what temples there were seemed badly in need of repair.

Metris spotted Luxos sitting on a small hillock. She smiled at the sight of his thick, tousled hair. Who had hair like that? No one she’d ever seen. She could sense his sadness. He was playing his lyre, and though his playing didn’t quite compare with the music of the water nymphs, which was so beautiful it could lure a man to his death, it was heartfelt and moving. Metris could see the sad aura emanating from Luxos as he sat on his own on the dusty ground. She walked up to him and laid her hand on his shoulder. His tunic was so threadbare she could feel his skin through the fabric.

‘You’re sad.’

He nodded. ‘No one will listen to my poetry.’

She sat down beside him. ‘I’ll listen.’

‘Really?’

Metris had never seen such a dilapidated lyre. It was nothing like the fine instruments of the water nymphs. But the young poet knew how to play it. He recited a rather sad poem about the loss of a parent, accompanying his words with a few gentle notes.

‘What’s your name?’ asked Metris, after he’d finished.

‘Luxos.’

‘I’m Metris.’

Quite abruptly, she kissed him. The air grew warm, and a great carpet of buttercups and daisies blanketed the hillock.

‘I like your poetry.’

‘I like your flowers.’

Metris took a strand of his funny blond hair in her fingers. ‘Who could resist your poetry?’

‘The whole of Athens. Aristophanes says I’m not the right sort of person. I just realised he’s probably correct.’

Luxos had such a pretty face. Metris had never seen such a pretty youth.

‘I wouldn’t mind so much, but I’d like to have been given a chance before I get killed in battle.’

‘Battle?’ Metris was surprised. ‘Surely you don’t go to war?’

‘Everyone in Athens goes to war. Farmers, philosophers, carpenters, poets – everyone. The order comes out, you turn up with three days’ rations, and off you go.’

‘I can’t imagine you in battle. What’s it like?’

Luxos looked very troubled. ‘Terrible,’ he said, and didn’t seem inclined to describe it further.

‘Couldn’t you refuse to fight?’

The young poet was shocked by the suggestion. ‘Athens needs everyone. I might be feeble but I’m not a coward. I do my best, even if I’m not much use at it.’

Metris put her face close to his and looked into his blue eyes. ‘My warrior hero,’ she said, and kissed him again.

After a few moments, she rose daintily to her feet. She knew that Bremusa would be looking for her.

‘I have to go now. But I’ll find you again.’

Aristophanes sat on a couch with Theodota, in her stately villa in the west side of town, home to all the city’s most successful hetaerae. At twenty-four, Theodota was Athens’ most beautiful and most famous courtesan. Aristophanes lusted after her permanently, and quite painfully. He desperately wished that she liked him more. The playwright had given her a lot of money in the past year. It hadn’t made much difference. They sat next to each other comfortably enough, but no one would have said they were intimate. Finely wrought earrings of delicate gold, imported from Syracuse, hung seductively on the courtesan’s ears, a present from Aristophanes, given to her only the day before. Theodota loved the earrings: she showed no sign of loving Aristophanes.

He watched as her young female servant Mnesarete poured wine for them.

‘To your beauty,’ he said, toasting Theodota.

‘To Athens,’ said Theodota.

Aristophanes had come here for a purpose other than simply lust, but once again, Theodota was not responding as well as he’d hoped.

‘Why won’t you do it?’

‘I’m afraid it’s out of the question, Aristophanes.’

‘Why?’

‘I have my reputation to consider.’

That seemed like an unsatisfactory answer. ‘Reputation? Theodota, you’re Athens’ most famous courtesan.’

‘Exactly. Why would men pay for my services if they could already see me walking around naked for free?’

‘It would really help me out.’

‘I still don’t see why you need a woman to come on stage at the end of your play and walk around naked. Isn’t that a little cheap?’

‘Cheap? You’re as bad as Hermogenes with his artistic principles. I’m not Aeschylus, you know. I’m not writing a great tragedy. I’m writing a comedy and I’m trying to win the prize for it, which means impressing a panel of judges. Five men drawn by lot, who for some reason always turn out to be the five most ignorant men in the city. And nothing would impress these ignorant judges more than Athens’ most beautiful woman walking out naked on stage.’

‘Isn’t female nudity against festival rules?’

‘We’ll give you a few pieces of string.’

Theodota laughed. When she laughed, her features lit up. It was intoxicating, even more intoxicating than her voice, which was already enough to hypnotise most of the men with whom she came into contact.

‘Sorry, Aristophanes, I’m not doing it. The Athenians don’t mind me plying my trade here as long as I’m reasonably discreet, but if I start wandering around naked at the Dionysia I’ll be in trouble.’

‘I think you might be more helpful, Theodota. I’m really struggling.’

‘Everyone’s finding it difficult these days, with the war.’

Aristophanes grunted with annoyance. ‘My rivals don’t seem to be suffering. They’ve got decent producers. Damn Eupolis and Leucon. Neither of them can write to save their lives. All you get from them is one cheap stunt after another. Are you sure you won’t appear naked?’

Theodota sipped her wine. She wore an expression Aristophanes had come to recognise, an expression that meant he wasn’t going to get what he wanted.

‘You could ask someone else. Mnesarete, for instance. She’s pretty. Good figure too.’

‘Your maid? It wouldn’t be the same.’ Aristophanes’ face clouded over. ‘I bet you’d do it for Socrates.’

Theodota rolled her eyes. ‘Not this again.’

He felt a familiar bad temper coming on. ‘Well, you obviously like him better than me.’

‘I’m not having a relationship with Socrates.’

‘You would if he asked. You probably wouldn’t even charge him. Why are all the courtesans in Athens so keen on Socrates?’

‘Why?’ said Theodota. ‘I suppose it’s because he’s intelligent and funny, and he gives good advice. He’s nice to us and treats us with respect. And he doesn’t want anything from us in return.’

‘Yes, fine. I wasn’t really looking for such a detailed answer.’

Aristophanes scowled, angered at the injustice of it. Theodota was capable of freezing out anyone she didn’t like. Her regal disdain could leave a man feeling crushed. There were famous, handsome, wealthy Athenians she’d never accept as clients, because she’d taken a dislike to them for some reason. But whenever shabby, ugly, old Socrates appeared, she just fawned over him like a little girl. It was infuriating. Damn Socrates. Aristophanes felt glad he’d made fun of him in his last play.

Idomeneus entered the room upstairs in the tavern and placed a heavy bag of silver on the table.

‘I have the money from Euphranor.’

‘Is it all there?’

‘Minus the priestess’s commission.’

‘Ah, the priestess. How is Kleonike?’

‘A lot wealthier since she started accepting bribes. I get the impression some of the group that hired her aren’t too pleased at the amount she charges.’

Laet’s lips twitched in the semblance of a smile. ‘Then they’re fools. Kleonike is worth it to them. She’s worth more. There aren’t that many mortals left who can summon a semi-divine.’

Idomeneus looked at her quizzically. ‘You’ve been summoned by a lot of priestesses in your time.’

‘I have. But mostly in the centuries after Troy. Have you not noticed the amount of human contact lessening, these recent years?’

Idomeneus shrugged. ‘I suppose so. I never gave it much thought.’

‘The days of close connection between Mount Olympus and the cities of Greece are coming to an end, Idomeneus. Heroes no longer walk with men. Centaurs no longer teach the sons of kings. The divines are withdrawing, and the semi-divines are following them. Kleonike is one of the last priestesses capable of making contact with us.’ Laet looked thoughtful. ‘That woman on the beach. It’s a surprise to find an Amazon in Athens. Apparently the Goddess Athena has not yet relinquished direct intervention.’

She took a coin from the bag and examined it. ‘Best quality silver. The mines at Laurium have always been very beneficial for Athens. If not for the slaves who have to dig it out the ground.’

‘What do you care about their slaves?’

‘Nothing at all. Though I’m amused at these philosophers talking about ethics when it’s wealth from their slaves that keeps them prosperous.’

Laet put the coin in her purse, an elegantly embroidered item from Corinth. ‘It’s so gratifying to be paid for spreading destruction. Often I’ve done it for free.’

‘I hear the peace conference almost came to blows.’

‘It’s not hard to spread disorder among people who already hate each other. The Athenians and Spartans are locked into their ways and will never change. It will finish them eventually.’

Laet looked around the small tavern room, which was clean but furnished in very basic fashion.

‘You must rent us a house somewhere. I don’t like this tavern.’

She gazed out of the window, northwards to the fine white buildings and marble columns of Athens. She murmured a line from Euripides’
Medea
:

‘Which reminds me, Idomeneus, I’d like to go to the theatre.’

‘The theatre? What for?’

‘I’m a cultured woman.’

‘Are you planning on spreading some reckless folly around?’

‘That depends on whether or not I like the plays.’

On Mount Olympus, the Goddess Athena was impatient. She took a cup of wine from an attendant, but held it in front of her without drinking.

‘What’s keeping Bremusa? She should have reported by now.’

The goddess was monitoring one of the altars in her mansion. It was directly connected to the small shrine near the harbour in Athens.

‘There’s someone entering the shrine now,’ said her attendant. As they watched, the door to the rather small, dark space opened.

‘Finally,’ said the goddess. ‘Open it up so Bremusa can see me through the altar there.’

The figure lit a candle.

‘It’s not Bremusa!’ cried the goddess. ‘It’s that idiotic young poet! Quickly, close it down! Don’t let him see me.’

The attendant hurriedly spoke a few words, lowering a mystical barrier, ensuring that Luxos could not see all the way to Olympus. Unaware that he was being observed by Athena, Luxos faced the altar in front of him and bowed to the small statue of the goddess.

On Mount Olympus, Athena frowned. ‘I hope this doesn’t go on too long. I want to talk to Bremusa.’

Luxos was talking quite animatedly. ‘… and I wrote this great piece of lyric poetry which would fit right into the final scene of Aristophanes’ play but he won’t even listen to it! And then I asked if I could read some of my poetry before his play starts, because that’s a really good spot, the whole of Athens would hear me. I’ve got some new metrical innovations which would really shake things up. I could revolutionise poetry in Athens! But Aristophanes says that spot is reserved for a well-known poet so he’s giving it to Isidoros. I’d be much better than him! And then I asked if I could come to his drinking party because all these wealthy people will be there that might want to sponsor me but he says I can’t come. Aristophanes is really mean… He could help me get my poetry heard if he wanted.’

There was a pause.

‘But that’s not really why I came to talk to you tonight, Goddess.’

‘There’s more?’ sighed Athena.

‘I met this wonderful girl! She’s beautiful and nice and friendly and she likes my poetry and everything! But of course I didn’t have any money to buy her food or anything, because I’m so poor. But she didn’t seem to mind. She was so lovely. I was wondering if you could help me find her again, and maybe put in a good word for me? I think she might be some sort of nymph. Well, she was good at making daisies anyway. I really need to find her again.’

At that moment, as the goddess and her attendant watched, Bremusa poked her head into the shrine.

‘Are you going to be in there all night? Other people want to pray, you know!’

‘Hey,’ cried Luxos. ‘Don’t interrupt other people’s prayers. It’s impious. Oh, wait, you’re the woman that was with Metris! Are you her friend? Is she here now? Wow, I’ve never had a prayer answered so quickly!’

Luxos turned eagerly back towards the altar. ‘You brought her here already! Thank you, Goddess Athena. Look, I brought you some daisies!’

With that Luxos rushed from the small shrine. Back on Mount Olympus, Athena’s attendant was raising an eyebrow.

‘Daisies?’

‘It’s all he can afford,’ said the goddess, rather stiffly.

‘No chance of him roasting an ox, I suppose.’

Inside the shrine, Bremusa was looking a little flustered. She hadn’t expected Luxos to be there, and wasn’t sure if the goddess was in attendance or not. Suddenly Athena’s face appeared in the altar.

‘Goddess, you’re here.’

‘Yes, I saw you come in. But I was hiding from Luxos. I couldn’t let him see me, of course.’

‘Of course,’ agreed Bremusa. ‘For a mortal to see a goddess directly is terrible impiety.’

‘I was thinking more of the tedium I might suffer if he started reciting his poetry. But yes, it’s impiety too. I’d have been obliged to turn him into a tree or something. So, tell me what’s happening. Did Metris help you find Laet?’

Bremusa looked disgusted. ‘Metris couldn’t find the sea if you took her to the beach. She lied about having powers.’

‘Really? Can’t she dispel Laet’s negative influence?’

‘She can’t do anything except make daisies and buttercups. I’ve never encountered a more useless nymph.’

Unexpectedly, the goddess smiled. ‘I presume she’s the one with whom Luxos has fallen in love?’

‘Apparently. Isn’t Athens meant to be full of intellectual giants and great artists? How come I keep tripping over this ridiculous young poet?’

‘Have you heard any of his poetry?’

‘No. Metris likes it so must be bad.’

The shrine was so small that Bremusa’s sword touched the wall, making a small metallic sound.

‘However, finding Laet is not really such a problem, Goddess. Just go where everyone is making bad decisions. You should have heard the arguments in the agora after she walked through this afternoon. Everyone was buying useless junk and then trying to get their money back, the place was in chaos. The woman’s a plague. She’ll ruin the peace conference for sure. I don’t know how I’m going to thwart her. Do you have any suggestions?’

The Goddess Athena admitted that she didn’t. ‘Perhaps I’ll find some inspiration soon. Meanwhile, try not to let Laet destroy the city. And protect Aristophanes.’

Bremusa was startled. ‘Aristophanes? Why?’

‘Reports reach me from other worshippers that his play about peace might be influential in making up people’s minds.’

Bremusa nodded. ‘I see. There might be something in that. I have heard people talking about the play.’ She shook her head. ‘I hate the theatre. Particularly these ridiculous Athenian comedies.’

‘It’s good to laugh on occasion, Bremusa.’

‘Athenian comedies aren’t very respectful to the gods.’

‘It’s the Dionysia. They have licence to make fun of us.’

‘I don’t like it.’

‘Well, blame Dionysos. What else are you upset about?’

‘Nothing.’

‘Yes you are. I can tell. I can see that little frown line between your eyebrows.’

Bremusa tried to smooth her forehead, but realised she couldn’t fool the goddess about her moods.

‘I met Idomeneus,’ she muttered.

‘Idomeneus? Not Idomeneus of Crete? Isn’t he the one —’

Bremusa the Amazon nodded. Much as she hated to admit it, Idomeneus was the one who would have killed her if Athena hadn’t intervened, all those centuries ago.

‘How can he possibly still be alive?’

‘He’s employed as Laet’s bodyguard, so it must be her doing. She’s kept him alive for centuries. I didn’t realise she was so powerful.’

‘Neither did I,’ admitted Athena. ‘I’d no idea Idomeneus was still around. The glory of Crete has long since faded. I don’t want you to fight him, Bremusa.’

‘We already fought. He attacked me. Laet stopped it because she was bored and had a headache. We’ll meet again, I expect.’

‘You’re not to let your desire for revenge interfere with your mission,’ said the goddess.

Bremusa, not willing to argue with Athena but knowing quite well that she wasn’t going to back down from a fight with Idomeneus, remained silent.