Gladiatrix (38 page)

Read Gladiatrix Online

Authors: Rhonda Roberts

‘But it doesn't end there,' said Mersekhet. ‘When Alexander the Great added Egypt to his empire, Isis again turned crisis into opportunity and expanded her
power circle even wider. Egypt became the centre of a massive web of trade networks and political alliances across Asia and the Mediterranean. Evangelical Isiac priests converted the sailors pouring into Egypt, and they took Isis across the sea, through the Western worlds, and finally, more than ninety years ago, into Rome.'

I could almost picture Isis. As an ambitious woman making her way up the cosmic ladder.

‘Less than fifty years after her arrival Isis had become so powerful in Rome that Augustus and his triumvirate built her a temple to curry political favour amongst her followers. Can you imagine that?'

‘Yes, that seems strange,' I agreed.

She sat back. ‘Isis is now the most powerful of the Egyptian gods, and she is fast becoming the most powerful deity in the Roman Empire. Challenging the gods of the Roman state, in their very own city.'

I snapped, ‘But how does Isis's rise to power relate to my question?'

‘Don't you wonder how she became so powerful?'

This must relate to the sacrificial ceremony. The same ceremony that I'd soon be facing. ‘Tell me.'

‘When Isis was merely Ra's granddaughter she plotted to replace him with her husband Osiris, and hence step up to become co-ruler. Isis studied Ra to find his weak point. She noticed that as Ra had grown old he dribbled when he slept. Isis mixed his saliva with earth and made a serpent. Ra was far too powerful to be hurt by anything outside of his own substance, but when the serpent bit him he was poisoned and lay dying. Isis offered to save him, but said she could only do so if he gave her his real name.'

‘His name?' Ah yes. ‘That would be needed to command him.'

Names counted in Egypt. That's why the enemies of Pharaoh were not only killed, but all records of their names were obliterated. Chipped off stone monuments. They were effectively being expunged from existence.

She nodded. ‘Ra had no choice. He told Isis his secret name and she used it to gain power over him. She set her husband Osiris up in his place. So Ra and Osiris, the most powerful Egyptian gods, became clay in her hands.'

This was the heart of the matter. ‘So this spell is related to Ra's secret name?'

Mersekhet nodded again, glancing down at the papyrus as she spoke. ‘Yes this spell is one of Egypt's most powerful tools. It was used by Pharaoh to call up the creative essence of the cosmos. The genesis of all life. Whoever found this spell is trying to become Pharaoh. To become a god, and command the Egyptian gods. Including Isis herself.'

‘And the spell requires a human sacrifice?'

‘Yes'

‘What about the sacrificial ritual itself?'

She shook her head. ‘I can't tell you any more. You are lucky I could tell you as much as I have. This is Egypt's secret weapon. Everyone thinks Cleopatra committed suicide out of despair. So she wouldn't be marched through Rome as a captive. But Cleopatra killed herself so that she couldn't be used to gain power over Isis. She believed that Egypt would rise again, as long as the spell was hidden. That another of her line would use it to regain power. And before she died she witnessed the slaughter of everyone in Alexandria who knew the ritual. Augustus searched Egypt, but he never managed to find anyone who could give him the spell, and the ritual that went with it.'

She paused. ‘Or that is what I thought had happened.' She looked down at the papyrus. ‘Until now.'

‘But if everyone died how can this spell be authentic?'

‘Oh it's authentic all right. That much I do know. There is a secret temple on the Nile, cut into the earth, where the Pharaohs would perform the ritual. The mechanism is inscribed on its walls.' She shrugged. ‘Someone must have found it.'

Alex cut in. ‘How do you know all this?'

She looked out the window for a moment as though to gather her thoughts. ‘I was a high priestess at Cleopatra's court, but with Valerius' help I escaped the massacre; he was there searching for his sisters. He hid me from both my own people and from Augustus. That is the only reason I am talking to you now.' She paused. ‘Because he asked me to.'

‘Kannon.' Alex moved away from the door to stand next to me. ‘Now you know about the sacrifice, you can't go through with the initiation.'

I just shook my head.

Mersekhet put her head on one side and considered our struggle. ‘Beware of this sorcerer. But know this — he may try to command Isis, but he will fail. Whatever maudlin nonsense these Roman Isiacs say about her, she is ruthless in pursuit of her enemies, and permits no rivals. In Egypt Isis is known as “the terrible one”, “the destroyer of souls”.'

She leant towards me, lowering her voice. ‘No-one can defeat her. No-one escapes her notice. And she is listening to us now.'

I had to go through with the initiation, but the news just kept getting worse.

I put my hand across my eyes. Took a breath. When was this going to end? A wave of deathly tiredness swept over me.

The sound of flapping came from my right. We all jumped.

Something big blocked the window, sending flickering shadows across the room. And then landed on the sill.

It was an ibis, like the ones from the Iseum. Something silver flashed in its black hooked beak. The silver wriggling thing dropped to the table with a thud.

The ibis screeched, a loud, harsh sound, and took flight again.

Mersekhet and I were frozen in place, looking at the table between us. It was a fish, still struggling for life. Its scales an iridescent gleam.

Alex spoke first. ‘It's a carp. They had them in the pond in the Iseum forecourt.'

‘No. Not just a carp,' Mersekhet whispered. ‘It's from the Nile. It's Oxyrhynchus. The fish god. The Messenger.'

She looked at me with awe. ‘Isis has sent you an answer.'

‘An answer to what?'

‘What did you ask? Just then, when you put your hand over your eyes.'

‘I didn't ask anyone anything.'

‘Well you got an answer. What were you thinking about?'

‘When this would all end.'

She looked down at the fish. It was dead now, mouth open in final gasp.

Mersekhet pulled a stick of green from it. ‘A reed,' she said, her face set in stone. ‘The answer is — it will all end when you reach the Field of Reeds.'

‘Where's that?'

‘The place you go to after the Last Judgement. The place you go when you die.'

35
THE INITIATION

Mersekhet wrenched the door open and was gone. We let her go.

Alex slid into the vacant seat opposite me. ‘Kannon you can't …' He was all fired up to save me again.

I ignored him. Mersekhet's last pronouncement had freaked us both out, so I had to act while I still had the guts. I was no further along in discovering how to survive the initiation, but so be it. I'd enter the temple and take my chances in getting to Fabius.

But what to do about Alex? He had to get out of Rome. The Praetorians would torture him to death if they captured him.

‘Alex, you have to …'

‘Forget it, I'm not leaving.'

Ignoring that, I continued, ‘Take the gold from Victoria's apartment, and head for the harbour at Ostia. With any luck you can get on the next ship to the other side of the Mediterranean …'

‘You think I'd leave you to face this alone! You have no idea what Fabius has planned.' He was working
himself up into a fury. ‘You'll be completely at their mercy. They could drug you, or trap you, before he even arrives to do the sacrifice. Or you might not get anywhere near him. He could let his boys do the dirty work.'

Alex was right.

But it didn't make any difference.

‘There's no other way to finish this,' I said. ‘And I'm seeing it through to the end.' Just like Andromache had said. But not for that reason. I'd come too far to let Victoria slip away now.

‘No! There has to be a better way. What if I …'

‘There's no time for new plans, Alex. But if I don't have to worry about you being caught by the Praetorians while trying to help me, then I'll have a better chance of escaping afterwards.' I was hoping that little jab might make him leave.

His anger turned cold. ‘So you're going to do it no matter what I say?'

I nodded. ‘That's right, and like I said, if I don't have to worry about you I'll be better off.'

His old mask came back down. ‘But you're taking the gun?'

‘Yes.'

I left him there, staring out the window. I could only hope he wouldn't follow.

A young priestess with rosy cheeks and a honey-sweet smile, was waiting for me at the entrance to the Iseum. She formally bowed in greeting, then wrapped a white cloak around my shoulders, pulling the hood over my head. I stood without question until she'd finished, then politely asked to speak with the Hierophant. She refused to answer, placing a finger to her lips, then walked towards the back of the temple. There was little choice except to follow.

There were stairs at the back of the temple, leading to a basement where two more priestesses, older and wearing heavily ornate veils, were waiting. Their faces smooth and serene, they silently welcomed me.

When I again asked to see the Hierophant they smiled encouragingly, but refused to reply. They led me into a nearby room and gently but firmly stripped off my clothes and sandals. When I told them I wanted to keep my bag, they made it as plain as possible without words, that if I insisted the initiation ended here and now.

I gave in.

Naked, I was taken into the next room, which contained a small bath and a number of white robes hanging on wall hooks. They washed me, dressed me in one of the robes, then rang a small bell.

A fourth woman, also veiled, entered bearing a painted mask. It was in the likeness of the god Horus — the falcon son of Isis. She fitted it carefully over my head.

The mask was padded inside with cloth, and she used straps to adjust it to closely fit my features. It totally covered my head, with only a small opening at my mouth for breathing. I could neither see nor hear.

Real panic started to rise. Without eyes or ears I was helpless. And I felt like I was locked inside a tiny, dark, portable room.

As they locked the mask in place, using a collar around my neck, I began having problems breathing. The mouth hole wasn't big enough, I had to wheeze to suck in a breath.

A small, soft hand gently took hold of mine, and guided me out of the changing rooms and along for
several feet. We stopped, and then another set of hands guided my right foot downwards.

They were preparing me to descend a set of stairs.

The hair on the back of my neck stood up. I hated being underground!

It wasn't an ordinary staircase, but a winding stone stairwell so narrow that I had to turn my shoulders to keep up with them. Sweat started running down my neck — but it was cold sweat.

Enclosed spaces — my worst fear!

My back began to cramp from the crouching position I had to assume to hold onto the leader's hand, keep my shoulders turned and step down at the same time. It also hampered my breathing and I started to choke, which immediately made me start to gag. Which scared me even more. If I vomited it'd block off what little air I could suck in. I had to wheeze and cough to clear my throat, but they didn't miss a beat. Just drew me further down the tiny, narrow stairwell.

Just as I'd reached my limit and was about to rip the mask off and run for it, the leader stopped. She drew me out of the stairwell and forward onto a level space. The change allowed me to hold onto my courage for a brief moment, but then even the choice to run was taken from me.

Two hands moved my left foot to the side, and I could feel that the floor dropped away. Then they did the same with my right foot. They were leading me across a narrow ledge of some kind, and I had no idea how deep was the fall.

The mask just had to come off.

Abruptly the soft hand leading me pulled away.

I grabbed forward for it and then remembered the drop. I carefully felt around with my feet, we were off the ledge.

But before I could act two pairs of much stronger hands gripped my arms and shoulders and spun me around. A rough rope was quickly passed under my arms, then I was swung forward and abruptly down.

They were using the rope to lower me! My heart felt like it was going to burst out of my chest.

I fell for several feet and then my feet hit something. I rolled onto my side on solid ground. The length of rope dropped on top of me. Above my head a heavy stone was rolled across more stone.

Then it clicked into place.

Fear invaded me. I started hyperventilating.

I sat up and began tearing at the mask. It took two terror-filled minutes to unclip it and pull it off. I sucked in a lungful of air.

The relief was momentary, I was sitting in absolute darkness.

Feeling around with my hands and feet I could make out a solid floor and a wall with a small protrusion sticking out of it, just above my head.

I sniffed — there was a faint whiff of burnt oil.

The protrusion was a warm lamp fixed to the wall with a flint hanging from it. A spark showed that there was only a residue of oil in the bottom of the lamp, but on the third try it caught and a flame illuminated the space.

I was in a square room with a small round, sunken pool in the centre.

But there were no doors?

The horror overwhelmed me. There was no way out at all! The hole through which they'd lowered me was now covered with a huge round stone.

Impossibly out of reach.

The room was sealed shut. I was a long way below
ground in a tiny stone tomb, and running out of air with every breath.

My skin began to crawl off my flesh. I was going to die here. I'd been buried alive.

The flame behind me flickered, and as I instinctively turned back a piece of writing on the wall near the lamp came into focus. It said ‘You must be reborn in Isis'.

Hope surged through me. Maybe this was still a legitimate part of the initiation. Maybe I hadn't just been dumped in here to suffocate.

If I was still in the game, then this was just a test, and there had to be a way out of here.

I checked every inch of the floor and walls within reach. The walls were solid, no magic doors or hidden escape routes. I read the sentence again, ‘reborn in Isis'. Maybe the final initiation was meant to symbolise the ending of the initiate's present life and rebirth in the spirit.

Rebirth?

I looked down at the sunken bath again. The tiles around the top depicted Isis as a beautiful young woman set against the background of the swamp.

I climbed down into the pool. It was about six feet in diameter and the cool water came up to my shoulders. I pushed down below the surface and felt around. There was a large round opening in the side of the pool, covered by a grate. I pulled off the grate and there was a pipe behind it.

I came up for another breath and then dived down again, and pushed my arms and shoulders along the pipe. I fitted inside just as long as I had my arms stretched out in front of my head. The pipe appeared to continue straight ahead.

It could lead out of this room.

I wiggled back out of the pipe, and surfaced with the grate in hand, just as the flame went out. The last light showed that the grate was moulded with the same image of Isis. She was giving birth to Horus.

‘Reborn in Isis?' The mask they'd given me was of Horus.

The pipe could be the symbolic gateway out of this room and into the final stage of the initiation. Its passage meant to represent my rebirth.

Was this all about an act of extreme faith ending in a pool next door?

I hung in the water shivering in terror. Trapped in the pitch dark. Underground. The only way out an underwater pipe.

It was just too much … I couldn't do it!

If I stayed in here too much longer the oxygen would be gone. The problem was that once I was far enough in the pipe I couldn't turn back, I needed to crawl through it as fast as possible in case the pipe was long. But the further in, the less likely I'd be able to back out again.

It also meant that I'd be unable to use the transponder if my arms got stuck. The pipe was too narrow to allow me to bend my arms.

I couldn't crawl into that dark, water-filled pipe! What if it went nowhere? I'd drown in the claustrophobic darkness. Choke to death in terror and pain. My body lost forever.

I just couldn't!

But would I rather die than take the chance that could save me?

And I'd never see Victoria.

It was getting harder to breathe and the carbon dioxide was giving me a headache. The longer I stayed here the less oxygen I'd have to make the swim.

I was shaking so hard my teeth were chattering.

I sucked in a last breath and dived down. Into the pipe.

 

I burst out of the pipe and straight up to the surface. Gulped in air, chest heaving with the effort. That'd been close. Too close.

Wherever I was, it was still dark but not pitch black. The air seemed much fresher too, as well as warm and heavy with humidity. The noise of my splashing echoed off the ceiling and walls, which all sounded to be some distance from where I trod water. This was a much larger room.

Relief started to filter through the residual panic, this had all been part of the initiation.

Moving my arms out in half-circles around me, I trod water until I touched a tiled wall. This had to be another pool, much larger than the first. I swam around the edge searching for a way out. The pool was rectangular and deeper at one end, so I waded up the slope and out of the water.

A heavy skittering noise erupted on my left. Not in the pool, but somewhere just beyond it.

I stiffened, heart pounding again in the steamy darkness.

But the sound had stopped when I stopped wading.

Suddenly the noise started again. This time it was louder and more identifiable. It was the sound of big claws on a stone floor with something heavy swishing behind them.

Some big animal was pulling itself across the floor towards the sloping entry to the pool!

Swerving back to swim frantically in the opposite direction I reached the side of the pool just as the creature plunged heavily into the water.

Its movement sent a wave of water after me. As I pulled myself up and over the edge of the pool my wet robe caught on something …

Fuck, fuck, fuck.

I ripped loose and jerked upright, feeling around with my feet and hands for an escape route. But there was only a narrow ledge and then wall. All I could do was teeter on the ledge.

I balance-walked around the edge of the pool trying to find an exit, a weapon or something, anything that could help me survive this. And hoping with all my might, that the thing in the pool couldn't scramble up and over the sides to get to me first.

As I felt my way across the wall, I struck something hard, jarring my wrist. Then I listened more carefully. The impact had created a small sloshing noise.

The last room had lamps and flints in the wall, maybe this one did, too? Exploring the wall fixture with shaky fingers, I found that it was indeed a lamp full of oil, flint attached.

I struck a spark and the lamp flared into life, showing a spacious room covered in brilliantly coloured paintings of the gods of the swamp. The deities who'd helped Isis hide from Set while she gave birth to Horus.

On the wall directly opposite there was an elaborate painting of Sebek, the crocodile god. A man with the head of a Nile crocodile. Below the painting was a low, wide arch opening through into another room. It was partially covered by long metal bars set into the archway and floor.

Most of the middle bars had been removed.

Now I knew what was waiting in the water. Fuck.

Fabius had led me from one trap to another.

To my right was the exit. A heavy wooden door with
an ornately carved aperture at head height. The door was closed, maybe even locked, but it was my only chance. Following the narrow ledge around the pool I could inch my way to the door.

The problem was that the shallowest part of the pool was right near the door.

I stared down at the water.

The crocodile hadn't moved once it'd missed its first chance to get me. No doubt it was looking up at me now, wondering how long it'd have to wait before I tried to get to that door. It would know all the entrances and exits in its world. No doubt about that.

Other books

The Girl from Cotton Lane by Harry Bowling
The Killing Forest by Sara Blaedel
The Division of the Damned by Richard Rhys Jones
Trilby by Diana Palmer
How to Love a Blue Demon by Story, Sherrod
Zeph Undercover by Jenny Andersen