Chapter 82: Living In the Shadows
The god of the Pactolus River gladly offered to make the stepping-stones. He said he’d lower the level of the river in the morning and would refrain from letting the rough currents take over during that time. Eutostea put her hand into his drinking jar and prayed to fill it full. During the third sundial hour, stones wide enough for two people to stand on at once appeared one by one on the river separating the temple and the land. After repeatedly thanking him, Eutostea returned to the temple on a leopard’s back.
It was getting dark.
Apollo said he had something to do and left after lunch. Dionysus rested on the altar and took a long nap. It’d been a long while since she was free.
Eutostea felt a sense of déjà vu as the temple became quiet. Did Apollo and Dionysus finally resign to diligent work after clawing each other’s throats for long enough? She got off the leopard and looked at the decorated temple. Her ankle healed well. She was in a much better state; she could walk now. Patting Mariad’s nose, she walked towards the altar.
Crossing the stepping-stones over the pond, she touched a chunk of meat that Apollo wrapped. It was still fresh. After a day’s offering, it finished its role as a sacrifice. The offerings in the altar, especially meat and grains, were usually left to age for one day then boiled in a large pot to be distributed free of charge to those who visit the temple. But since no one was looking for the temple, the stew couldn’t be boiled. It was better to dry it with jerky so that it could be stored for a long time. When Eutostea began to carry the meat, the Moussa followed her up the altar. The lazy god of drinking craned his neck up and snored deeply.
The place to dry the meat was next to the place where the leather was dried. It was moderately shaded and sear.
Without devotees, all the priests had to do was chores and cleaning. Eutostea did not mind that sort of work. It was better to move her hands in search of something to do than standing still. Slicing the raw meat thinly to dry finely, she thought of heading to the basement storage to check the candles she made when this was over.
It was fine to dry the meat as it was, but the scent of charcoal increases the preservation period and enhances the flavor. Eutostea picked up a poker and took out a few white lumps of charcoal from a brass bowl. She laid them on the bottom of a narrow jar. The branches of the tree were woven into a net and spread on the charcoal; the papyrus paper which Apollo wrapped around with meat laid on top of it. She spread the sliced meat flat on the leaves and put the lid on the jar. She planned to let it stand for three hours before taking out the meat and drying it.
Thereafter, she went to the basement storage and checked the wax containers and found that the candles were well hardened. The finished ones were put aside and the lumpy ones cut into small pieces and melted in a repetition of the same work as yesterday.
She had nothing to do after finishing her work. Eonia came out to meet Eutostea. No one could get out or come in because a large leopard was lying down on the narrow door of the basement storage with her chin on her front paw.
“Nobody came?” Eutostea asked and the leopard shook her head. Eutostea asked no further, anticipating the answer. Although the river god had built a bridge, this temple was an unknown destination for people. Furthermore, it was hidden behind rugged mountains.
She shouldn’t expect much on her first day. It wasn’t because she was Dionysus’ priest, but…
‘I want to hear about my country. How are my sister’s doing…?’
Despite her sister’s attempt to journey with her, she left the palace alone. Regardless, she was filled with longing for her home country and worries about her sisters. Eutostea accepted her fate that she’d never return home. She was stuck here. Artemis would follow her shadows till she dies and she didn’t want to die from the god’s silver arrows. Hiding in the shadow of Dionysus, Eutostea was determined to live obediently.
But if by any chance an anonymous wanderer stumbled upon the temple, she’d ask them. Was everything well in her country? How’s her family? She’d also especially inquire if her older sisters were married and if they met a nice, loving man that could match them. And if that wandered planned to journey to Thebes, she’d ask them to deliver a message: to tell her sisters not worry because their youngest was well.
More things worried Eutostea. Sighing, she stroked Eonia’s head and made her clear out a path. She came out and walked to the burning bowl in front of the altar and arranged the inside with a poker so the flames wouldn’t die out. She prayed again for her country and her family and turned around.
Chapter 82: Living In the Shadows
The god of the Pactolus River gladly offered to make the stepping-stones. He said he’d lower the level of the river in the morning and would refrain from letting the rough currents take over during that time. Eutostea put her hand into his drinking jar and prayed to fill it full. During the third sundial hour, stones wide enough for two people to stand on at once appeared one by one on the river separating the temple and the land. After repeatedly thanking him, Eutostea returned to the temple on a leopard’s back.
It was getting dark.
Apollo said he had something to do and left after lunch. Dionysus rested on the altar and took a long nap. It’d been a long while since she was free.
Eutostea felt a sense of déjà vu as the temple became quiet. Did Apollo and Dionysus finally resign to diligent work after clawing each other’s throats for long enough? She got off the leopard and looked at the decorated temple. Her ankle healed well. She was in a much better state; she could walk now. Patting Mariad’s nose, she walked towards the altar.
Crossing the stepping-stones over the pond, she touched a chunk of meat that Apollo wrapped. It was still fresh. After a day’s offering, it finished its role as a sacrifice. The offerings in the altar, especially meat and grains, were usually left to age for one day then boiled in a large pot to be distributed free of charge to those who visit the temple. But since no one was looking for the temple, the stew couldn’t be boiled. It was better to dry it with jerky so that it could be stored for a long time. When Eutostea began to carry the meat, the Moussa followed her up the altar. The lazy god of drinking craned his neck up and snored deeply.
The place to dry the meat was next to the place where the leather was dried. It was moderately shaded and sear.
Without devotees, all the priests had to do was chores and cleaning. Eutostea did not mind that sort of work. It was better to move her hands in search of something to do than standing still. Slicing the raw meat thinly to dry finely, she thought of heading to the basement storage to check the candles she made when this was over.
It was fine to dry the meat as it was, but the scent of charcoal increases the preservation period and enhances the flavor. Eutostea picked up a poker and took out a few white lumps of charcoal from a brass bowl. She laid them on the bottom of a narrow jar. The branches of the tree were woven into a net and spread on the charcoal; the papyrus paper which Apollo wrapped around with meat laid on top of it. She spread the sliced meat flat on the leaves and put the lid on the jar. She planned to let it stand for three hours before taking out the meat and drying it.
Thereafter, she went to the basement storage and checked the wax containers and found that the candles were well hardened. The finished ones were put aside and the lumpy ones cut into small pieces and melted in a repetition of the same work as yesterday.
She had nothing to do after finishing her work. Eonia came out to meet Eutostea. No one could get out or come in because a large leopard was lying down on the narrow door of the basement storage with her chin on her front paw.
“Nobody came?” Eutostea asked and the leopard shook her head. Eutostea asked no further, anticipating the answer. Although the river god had built a bridge, this temple was an unknown destination for people. Furthermore, it was hidden behind rugged mountains.
She shouldn’t expect much on her first day. It wasn’t because she was Dionysus’ priest, but…
‘I want to hear about my country. How are my sister’s doing…?’
Despite her sister’s attempt to journey with her, she left the palace alone. Regardless, she was filled with longing for her home country and worries about her sisters. Eutostea accepted her fate that she’d never return home. She was stuck here. Artemis would follow her shadows till she dies and she didn’t want to die from the god’s silver arrows. Hiding in the shadow of Dionysus, Eutostea was determined to live obediently.
But if by any chance an anonymous wanderer stumbled upon the temple, she’d ask them. Was everything well in her country? How’s her family? She’d also especially inquire if her older sisters were married and if they met a nice, loving man that could match them. And if that wandered planned to journey to Thebes, she’d ask them to deliver a message: to tell her sisters not worry because their youngest was well.
More things worried Eutostea. Sighing, she stroked Eonia’s head and made her clear out a path. She came out and walked to the burning bowl in front of the altar and arranged the inside with a poker so the flames wouldn’t die out. She prayed again for her country and her family and turned around.
