Pagan

“I saw something interesting tonight.”  Maximus took me by the arm and led me along the terrace to a bench which faces the sea. Several small ships were making for the new harbor I am building just to the north. We could hear the long cry of sailors across the waters, and the response from the harbor. “Safe landing,” I prayed to Posideon out of habit. We sat down.

“All the signs for several weeks have ointed to a marvelous victory for you – for us.” He indicated my star, which shone at that moment in the west.

I nodded. “I have had good signs too.”

“Yesterday – while praying to Cybele – the goddess spoke to me.”

I was impressed. Maximus speaks often to gods of the lower rank (and of course to demons of every sort) but very seldom does he hear the voice of Cybele, the Great Mother, Earth herself.

Maximus was excited, though he tried to disguise it. He had every reason to be exultant, for to speak with Cybele is an extraordinary feat. No, not feat, for one cannot storm heaven: rather a beautiful sign the the prime movers of the universe now thought him ready and worthy to receive their messages.

“I was praying in the her shrine. Down there.” He pointed to the makeshift temple I had built near the Daphne Palace. “The chapel was dark, as prescribed. The incense heavy. Her image dim by the light of a single lamp. I prayed as I always pray to her….”

“The full verses? To the seventh power?”

He nodded. Everything, as prescribed. But then, instead of the usual silence and comfort, I felt terror, as if I had strayed to the edge of a precipice. A coldness such as I had never felt before came over me. I thought I might faint, die. Had I offended her? Was I doomed? But then she spoke. The light from the lamp suddenly flared and revealed her image, but it was no longer bronze, it was she!”

I murmured a prayer to myself, chilled by his account.

” ‘Maximus,’ she called my name and her voice was like a silver bell. I hailed her by her titles. Then she spoke. ‘He whom you love is well loved by me.’”

I could hardly move or breathe while Maximus spoke. It was as if I myself were now listening to the voice of this goddess.

” ‘He whom the gods love as their true son will be Lord of all the earth.’ “

“Persia..?” I whispered. “Did she mean Persia?”

But Maximus continued in the voice of the goddess.

” ‘…of all the earth. For we shall send him a second spirit to aid him in the long marches.’ “

“Hermes?”

” ‘One who is now with us shall be with him until he reaches the end of the earth and finishes the work which that spirit began, for our glory.’” Maximus stopped, as though he had come to the end of a page.

There was a long silence. I waited, then Maximus turned to me, eyes flashing, beard like water flowing in the moonlight.

“Alexander!” He breathed the name. “You are to finish his work.”

“In Persia?”

“And India and all that lies to the furtherest east!” Maximus took the edge of my cloak and held it to his lips, the gesture of a supplicant doing homage. “You are Alexander.”

“If this is true…”

“If! You have heard her words.”

“Then we shall break Sapor.”

“And after that nothing shall stand in your way from Persia to the eastern ocean. She asks only that you restore her temple at Pessinus.”

“Gladly!”

Maximus made a secret and holy gesture to my star. I did the same. Then we interruped by Priscus, who said in his loud and clear voice ’stargazing again?’