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enveloping the sacred precincts, all combined to give Marika a sense
of timelessness, of eternality. To murmur, to break the silence even
by the merest whisper, would seem like sacrilege.
Again she was poised in isolation, once more the pain of rapture
caught her throat. Surely no place in all earth or heaven could surpass
this!
She looked up at the man beside her, his profile harsh in the
moonlight, his shoulders erect. The thin lips were taut; she
remembered their cruelty. He turned as if compelled by her prolonged
stare and she saw the deep lines about his mouth, the lowering brow,
adding to the impression of intensity and power. A god himself! But
not the god Apollo, not the sun god. Hades, perhaps, Hades who had
dragged Persephone into the blackness of the Underworld ... to be his
bride.
The air, intoxicating and clear - even for Greece - took on a sudden
chill; she shivered, and Nickolas, in tones of thinly-veiled authority,
told her to fasten her coat.
Standing amid the ruins of the holy shrine, on the spot proclaimed by
Zeus to be the Navel of the Earth, Marika found no difficulty in
understanding why the ancient Greeks came to regard Delphi as the
very centre of the world. For in the solemn grandeur of the landscape
lay a sense of the ultimate, as if from the farthest extremities of the
earth all roads must finally terminate in this sacred place.
She and Nickolas, on their way from the village, had trodden the path
of the suppliants of long ago, past the Kastalian Spring, gushing forth
from the deep ravine of the Phaedriades, along the rough and rocky
Sacred Way, once lined with magnificent statues in marble, bronze
and gold, past the treasuries, in ancient times bulging with riches
from every part of the known world. And they had come at last to the
Temple of Apollo, to the spot where the priestess, sitting on the
divine tripod, announced the Oracle to all who came to seek advice.
They had spoken very little - though Nickolas had explained to
Marika the original layout of the Sanctuary - and as they stood there,
in a setting of moon-pale heights, with all around them the breathless
hush and haunting echoes of a distant past, neither seemed inclined to
break the silence.
But at length Marika stirred restlessly, and Nickolas glanced down at
her once more.
Are you cold?' he asked softly. 'Shall we go back?'
'Not yet. .. .' Odd that, having become afraid of being alone with
Nickolas, she now wished this night could go on for ever, into the
mists of eternity. But there was a gentleness about him tonight that
disturbed her profoundly, that caused her heart to race and her mind
to fumble with some strange intangible yearning. She thought of
David, and longed for a return to that uncomplicated relationship, to
be free of this magnetism which Nickolas had begun to exert upon
her.
After that first snub, he'd been almost eager to make up to her for it,
and he'd been kind and attentive the whole day. They sat with his
father after lunch; Nickolas put an arm about her shoulders as they
left the room. .Merely for effect, to satisfy the old man, yet his hands
were gentle on her shoulders and his smile held warmth as, once
outside the room, he thanked her for the attention she had given his
father. He had then gone out to the garden; Marika followed later
expecting him to be working, but he lay in a chair and seemed to be
fast asleep. She stood looking down at him, a brooding expression in
her eyes. For the first time she saw his face in repose, and felt a
stirring of her senses, an obscure desire. ...
He had opened his eyes; smiled at her confusion. Away from the
cares and problems of his work he seemed a totally different person
as, patting the chair beside him, he had said,
'Get yourself some tan. You look out of place with that pale skin.'
For the early part of the afternoon she had lain there, listening to the
incessant chirping of the cicadas, and lulled almost to the point of
sleep by the caressing warmth of the breeze. Nickolas had brought
out iced drinks, then insisted on her returning indoors. She must
acquire a tan gradually, in readiness for the real heat of the summer.
Aware that they no longer had the place to themselves, Marika looked
round, surprised at the number of couples who had appeared. Some
sat on the steps of the amphitheatre, as if awaiting the performance of
one of the ancient Greek tragedies; others wandered aimlessly among
the ruins, hand in hand, or arms entwined. Lovers gathering
memories, in the world's most romantic setting.
Marika heard someone say knowledgably,
'This is where the Pythia inhaled the vapours which sent her into a
trance. She then re-told what Apollo had dictated to her.'
The spell had been broken; Marika sighed for its loss, then with a
smile at Nickolas she said, prosaically,
'Do you really believe she could predict - or was it all a fraud?'
He opened his mouth to speak, then hesitated.
'I wonder what you wish me to say?' was the surprising rejoinder. 'I
believe I must not shatter your illusions.'
Marika laughed.
'Father has already done that. He maintains it was all one great
conspiracy - that the priests of Delphi had their spies everywhere. He
says that when the Pythia went into a trance her mutterings were
incoherent, and that the priests interpreted them to suit their own
ends.'
'Well, that may or may not be true,' said Nickolas. 'But great
confidence in the Delphic Oracle must have existed, for the city
flourished in wealth and fame for many centuries.'
'Oh, many of the predictions did prove to be true. Herodotus mentions
them, but he also refers to some which were not.'
'Herodotus! Is that what you read ? Where did you get it?' he wanted
to know, staring down at her in surprise.
'From Souphoula; she has lots of books like that - in English.'
'Ah, yes.' His face cleared. 'My grandfather's collection.'
'I want to learn as much about Greece as I can before I go home,' she
said, and silence fell between them. Marika broke it, saying she found
it more satisfying and exciting to believe in the veracity of the Oracle. [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]

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