The Oracle
It was an obsession with Anath-Sin to know the name of the gods of the land she found herself in. It was as if she wanted to do honor to the gods of every land, as if she feared, someday, a reckoning. Methos thought this was a quirk with her-for she called him Lord Seker after a god of Kemet, but she seemed to worship no gods at all. Instead, she seemed to him a goddess on her own.
"It was the time before Zeus-this was the happy time for mortal man," the traveler said. They had found themselves among a caravan of people, the sea people, or some such. They knew the art of war by horse, and they knew of the bronze blade-these were a people with whom Anath-Sin and himself might easily speak. And yet they spoke not of the area from whence they came, but would only say it was the west...where the sun would go. Where day lay her head.
"Who was the name of this god-the god who ruled this golden age?" Anath-Sin asked, enthralled. She drew upon the pipe that was passed-of bay leaf it was by the scent, and some other herb. Both of them began to feel light. "He must have been mighty to have kept people better in line than your Zeus."
"The father of Zeus, this was Kronos. He was time itself-the beginning and end. His father Ouranos he took the manhood of that he might rule in his stead. In his time, there was no property, all was shared. He came unto his mother Gaea, and they bred the gods."
Anna smiled. This was well known to her, the succession of kings. Some people slew another, and so their god was replaced. This Kronos at one time was the chief god, and when another people came, Zeus then ruled. The difference in the sound of the names told this to her.
"And when Zeus came forth," she asked, "what then became of his father, Kronos? Was he slain?"
"No, but was he thrown to Tartaros. In the underworld he dwells. And a judge of the underworld he might be, to know the measure of men even now."
Methos whispered to her, "Does this not bespeak Tammuz?"
"Yes, Tammuz-he becomes the lord of the dead after loving the mother. And also he is Osiris-a god that dies, and rules the dead. A powerful god-he." And in her mind, it was Kronos, and not Zeus, who was chief for these people, for that man had said as much when he spoke of the oracle.
"Does she know of the future?" Methos asked
And Demetrios answered, "She knows of past and future and present, and of these she knows no difference. My sister-she is an oracle-not at Delphi, not at Crete, but wherever she comes. She knew what you were, and so we came to you."
"Demetrios, what mean you by this-she knew what we were?" Anath-Sin would know.
"You are of titan blood. Or so she says of you. Of titan blood you are-warlike and Immortal-this she explained to me. I alone understand her words. I feared meeting you, as I imagined you to be people of war. But Methos, and yourself, Anna, you are good people. You have not spoken words of war, and so I am pleased my sister brought us here."
He smiled, then, looking on Anath-Sin. "Artemis, she calls you-the Lion, the virgin-mother, the Huntress. And Methos, she thinks you to be Zeus himself, Kronos' betrayer. She calls on you as gods-I fear to have you meet her, she is gullible and childlike-perhaps because from birth she is blind."
"Can we not meet your sister?" Anath-Sin asked. She was fascinated by the idea of one who might know the future, and spoke so of the gods. In her times she had seen some few of these-most were frauds, or madmen. "Of this woman might I know-she sees me as a goddess, but I would have her know me better. She should not see me as this, and yet not know me as I am."
And to this, Methos added, "Anna has a need to know of new things, always. She is wise...my woman. If she learns of a thing, she may show something new to yourselves. This is her way." But to himself, he wondered if this interest Anna showed in the oracle was not a cause for concern. Something told him it might be, for of late, she seemed to carry this sense of destiny. She had spoken of her own death, lately, and of this he would despair.
"You may bring her forth-no trouble we-those of our camp we trusted not, we left behind us," Anna spoke, knowing neither Caspian nor Silas to be ready for this. She did not like that within herself which tried to show her the tricks of the passing of time-better in her mind that she confront what was to come, even if it was to be a thing of sadness. She wanted to know what the oracle would say, but was herself only too sure.
She had known the last several years she might die. It was expected-for she rode in a camp of violence. Lately she thought on it long. Where one time, she had mocked the gods, and named herself a goddess, she now felt the need to tread softly, and as she might respect those gods, so would she respect this sayer, if she be a true one. If the oracle were to speak of her death, better she should know, and better know how to behave.
And even with her presentiment of darkness, it was Methos she feared for. She knew the number of her years. Though to herself, they felt as nothing at times, and other times like an excess, to Methos, she realized, she must seem eternal. It was not so, but how to make him understand? But even in this, she might teach a lesson, she thought. Perhaps she might teach him what it was to die well.
Even though, in her mind, she would have him live forever.
"Yes," Demetrios said, "I believe it will be good that she meet with you in the flesh. For all her speech of you--I fear she has made quite a fantasy of you. Perhaps she will be less in awe, should she know you speak as a man and a woman speak--and are not gods."
*****
The "oracle" seemed such a young girl, that Anath-Sin's eyes became wet at the sight of her. She was blind, and her eyes were white in total. She did not have that which would let her see-but still-she seemed to see more than most, for she boldly went before Methos. She stood, and then she said-
"I know you-you are beautiful-even you do not know well how beautiful you are."
Anath-Sin agreed. Methos did not seem to know yet that it was not his strength that challenged her at every turn, not his good sense-but his undeniable attractiveness. That was what had made her hunt him down in the first place-she wanted him for that. Something about him always seemed to please her-even when he was in the midst of being a complete ass.
"This," Demetrios said, "is my sister, Moira. And yes, she knows you, as you can tell." He seemed proud and in awe of this woman, his younger sister. Though blind, she had a talent equal to none he had ever witnessed. She confounded the elders. So astonishing was her power that it drove their family and some few other believers out to seek out what she spoke of-she called it the "Good Death." Also was he amazed that she knew these two so well-she had been drawn to them. But, knowing her fascination, he left them alone, that she might speak freely to them, even of those things she would not reveal to another.
Over the nights, she had spoken of these-Anna and Methos-Artemis and Zeus. The Mother, who was without child, and the Betrayer, who was a prince among gods. She spoke of them as lovers, and she said they were doomed. She told a great love story, and she cried for them. And also she spoke of another-she would not name him, but called him "Kronos." She called him the "fatherless one."
"Anath-Sin, oh, Anna, I dreamed of you so," she said then, softly, and touched Anath-Sin's face. Anna stood patiently as the woman felt her features, and seemed to search for something within her. She knew the ways of those who could not see-by touch they knew things. And so it would be with Moira, but this was a strange name to her-better she be called, simply, the Oracle.
"Old. I know this of you-that there are none of your years yet living. Of you, well your teacher spoke: I am Yesterday, Today, and Tomorrow-"
"I have the power to be reborn-" Anath-Sin joined, remembering.
And in chorus, they finished, "I am the Beginning and the End of Time."
Methos seemed puzzled, and Anath-Sin explained. "Imhotep said this of old-it is from the tablet of the drawing forth of Sahu before Ra. But things do get lost in the translation."
The Oracle then smiled, a dazzling and celestial smile-the smile of one who knew peace that was beyond the knowing of most. She seemed to look at Anna and not look at her.
"Well remember these words-they will preserve you for the future, as are the people of the two lands preserved for theirs. For you are dying, though you seem it not. But you will live-by these words."
Anath-Sin bowed her head-she had known this. She knew someday that her sins would catch up with her. It was the way of all things to be reckoned.
"But first, a deed-you must attend to the fatherless one-the one who slays his father. He is the Motherless One, who needs you, His Mother. And you must show him the way to go, for if you fail, a great soul is made perverted."
And with this, Anath-Sin's heart pounded, for she could be speaking of no other than her boy-Naram-Sin. He was fatherless and motherless, and it was time to return. For she saw it now-he would be a man, and as she had intended, he would be a king.
"And of you-oh, thou, Zeus. Methos, by she of the bloody blade called Lord Seker-you shall live. Ages shall you live, and know her not. Feel her not. And a betrayal you will even commit in your blindness. Again, you may know her. When you are the older and she the wiser. Of these things do I know."
Anath-Sin was in a trance by these sayings for these things seemed like the speaking of her own heart. But she looked on Methos, and her heart sank to know these words hurt him. He had not been ready, and reading his face, she thought he might burst. And it was not a happy fate she read him-to call him a betrayer to his face.
But oddest of all that last-he the older? She would always be older, would she not? And she the wiser? She was always the fool of her own heart-he the steady one. Well he might despair, for she knew that he loved her.
"How does she die-how do I betray anyone?" Methos asked, desperately. He didn't believe-but something about this touched him. "Answer me this-how? How can Anath-Sin die at her age and strength? And how do I betray?"
Moira sighed patiently. She knew the younger of the two would raise a commotion-not for nothing did Anna name him "Death". His was a passionate soul kept in check only by his great good sense, but where Anna was concerned, he could easily forget it. Loyal was he to those he would love. But also, the one he would love best, he might hurt worst. This was his way.
"I only know it is the fatherless one who brings it all to pass. He it is who makes it all transpire. Through the child, the man is born. Through the beginning is the end. In all that Anna has done-for one good thing-one ill. This she could not help-she is of always a mixed nature-violence and love," the Oracle replied, and seemed to be taken by the tale-so much so that both of them had nothing but questions-to know this involved themselves, but they were ignorant of the outcome.
Anna never saw herself in this light though--a good for every ill. Never did she see her life as balanced, but only magnified each misdeed, until she saw herself a monster. This was new-to try and see a good. And so she had to know better-
"Can nothing good come? You seem to speak of tragedies! Is my life to only come to death?"
"You are Sekhmet and Isis in one. You may either the world destroy-or lose a lover and forever mourn. But also-you may do more good than even you dream of. Who is to say? But you give birth to the deathless, and death to the lifeless. I see two snakes, entwined. They can not be separated for their fangs are sunk deep one into the other. Each kills the other. And only Death can separate them."
Anath-Sin's eyes widened-the woman spoke names she could not have known-she could not have set foot in the lands from which these names came. Also, the mention of serpents made her to wonder-when she was but Anna-she fell to the bite of a snake, and then the wounding by spear.
Methos had his sword drawn. The Oracle could sense this-almost tensely, she said-
"What mean you by this, Methos? You can not avert your fate by these means--nor should you want to. A long, life is yours, and a prize you will have if you but wait. You can only look to yourself-you love wisely, but not well. Better to forgive, and be compassionate, but this is not yet your way. I tell you only the truth-may I never know death if I do not speak this! I know fate, but that I would swear."
"Methos, she swears by fate, which man alone does not control," Anna reminded him.
"That is, Anath-Sin-to use your phrase-what the shepherd stepped in."
And yet he feared. He did not believe, but he feared. If she were to die...what meant all that they had shared? If she were to die-were the lessons she gave him of endurance nothing? And what of their love-how could it endure? Of this one thing, might he believe-that she loved him.
The Oracle knew of his fears, but was not concerned by them. None of this was surprising, by any means. Rather, it was as she expected. They were but what they were-Anna, so ready to die, and Methos-so ready to live. It was as she expected and so it all would come to good in the end. How many years before they would see this-she did not forsee their number. But one day, they would understand. They were tied together with each other-it was fate.
"Anna, you have been an enemy of time, and in love with death. You will make a friend of time, and death will be your enemy again and again. You will know one love that will last for thousands of years-and lose it, over and over again, for all the pain you have caused."
"Love?" Anath-Sin breathed. She doubted, now. It seemed a fake pronouncement--that she should know one she should love in this way. Something that constant in her life? It hardly seemed to be in her nature.
"I have a story for you-old even in this time. It will be a legend in the future. A legend you will not believe."
"How can this be?" she breathed, close to tears. She believed, even as she was unwilling.
The woman continued, as if the question had not been asked.
"I see four on horse-and yourself, the Whore. These presage the end of all time-if but the Four come together, and yourself with them, it could come to pass. But if this is denied-I see a future with but Death and the Whore. The two of you will never be finished with each other."
The Oracle fell silent, as Anna and Methos wondered at these sayings. And both saw what was meant. They were to know each other always, but in some way so strange it was as if they would know each other not at all. And Anna knew she would die. This was a fate-a bad fate even if there was some afterlife for her to atone in.. Methos still had his sword at the ready, and Anna observed him, the blade moved, even if all his form seemed calm. She saw this, and she would ask the last question.
"Woman, speak to me of the Good Death. Your brother spoke of the Good Death--of this I would know. Can any death be good?" Anath-Sin asked, to learn again where mortals stood--what could mortals cling to?
The woman simply smiled and then raised her hands to her eyes.
"I see nothing, but I see everything. I do not want to live. And the others? I've led them here because I want to die. The two of you-you are killers. It's what you do. Kill me."
The woman seemed so sure. Methos' hand gripped the blade-he would take her. He could do this thing, and it would not abhor him.
"Speak better, woman," Methos said.
"Kill me, so I can stop seeing these visions."
"Methos-you can not-a" Anath-Sin breathed.
It was too late-the Oracle was dead. With Methos' sword, was she slain. She lay there, dead, and Anath-Sin would speak. Her voice was stern as she spoke. She was again his teacher and would show him his errors.
"Methos-if the soul comes back to right the wrongs of the past-she should come back Immortal, even she may be strong enough to slay you."
He was silent.
"Methos-we must kill the rest--this is the Good Death of which she spoke-through us."
She knew he heard her. She knew him well enough to know it was pain that made him unable to speak-even he did not know why he killed her. But Anath-Sin knew. Some years ago, she had killed that poor woman in her burning hut for the same reason-that she would hear no more. So it was with Methos-he killed the Oracle that he would hear no more.
"Methos, we must kill them all, now. Search out Demetrios. And I will start the flames. All must die that they do not pursue us. You killed the Oracle, Methos-we must go."
He started himself, then, and began to move. But with such pain. All he had heard was this--
Anath-Sin would die.
*****
Demetrios died easily. It was but a question of asking him a sudden question: "Do you believe in fate?" His hesitation proved his end, for Methos had the sword ready-and still painted with the blood of his sister. An old man of their group came before him, and calmly, he slew this man as well, even though he claimed to be the sire of these both, claiming the gift came from his people. He begged for mercy, and yet Methos slew him-the obvious boon to those who are weak enough to beg should be death.
All the time his mind fought this thought-not to have Anna. He knew she would go to see her god-cursed child. Why was he ever born? Why did this have to befall? He cursed this fate he did not believe in. He did not want her to set the fires, he wanted to kill-to throw himself in this and feel alive, in control, not imagining himself powerless before a fate that involved her leaving him. He saw the bright orange in the one space and he knew she had begun.
A flame-to remind him of herself.
She came to him, bearing a torch. She was red with blood, black with soot, and beautiful to him, as always. Her breathing came in labored gasps from the smell of the smoke, but still there was a light in her eyes. He knew well that violence always was her nature. This she would do easily, from needing to.
"You slew her brother? You have given him the Good Death?" she spoke, employing the words of the Oracle. She seemed serious-she wanted him dead-best he not suffer to know his sister was already passed. And she heard the wails and regretted them not; this was as written. They would perish and perhaps go to that place she imagined should exist for the good. And the Oracle should live again as foretold by the people of the two lands. And herself?
She did not care for herself at that instant, but wanted only that she could speak with Methos to tell him of what she must do. This would be painful, but it must be done and it was not as if they would not know each other again. She would see him off well that he would remember her fondly. And when they met again, perhaps it would bring him joy.
She must return to the black-headed people, she had decided. She must go back to Naram-Sin-her-
She did not know what to think of him now--as the Oracle had made this sound so strange. Perhaps there were no words for what Naram-Sin was to her. She knew only that he would be a king, as she had planned, and she would go to him, to teach him as an Immortal should be taught.
This was a thing that had to be.
She saw, then, that he had not answered her question about whether or not he had slain Demetrios, and she saw also that he was past words-he had no words to say. She saw that he was staring at her-searching her face as if she would have the answers to all of his questions-she did not. She only wished she could give him the benefit of her four thousand years, but the truth be told-there was no benefit to be had. She didn't understand anything better for being old-she only knew better what was right for herself.
She stood before him, her heart throbbing within her chest. She could taste the smoke, and feel the heat, but she perceived he shook-he shook as if from being cold, but it was not this. It was simply fear, and she knew her fate was the cause. So she simply looked on him, saying nothing, and waiting for him to speak, that she would know what he needed.
"Anna, what now?" he finally asked.
She hesitated. She wanted to simply say she would go, but he needed her then, and she could not. She knew him so well, he feared for her in spite of himself. He wanted to hear her say something comforting-so she did.
"We are both bloody-we smell of smoke and death-we reek. And this is not well for what will pass between us tonight. The sea is but three miles on-even here, through the smoke it can be smelled in the air. We will go to the sea...cleanse ourselves-and as this is a beautiful night, and I have found many an answer-I would know you. There is nothing better to me--than being by your side."
"Anna, the words of the Oracle-she spoke of your dying..." he said, even as he went to her. She saw this was what had shaken him, so she went to him as well, and held him. She felt his heart pounding, and she knew he held her tightly because he did not want to let her go-even having seen he must.
"She was a blind child. Of what did she speak?" she asked him. "She spoke-" she began. "There was something in that pipe that was passed-I do not know. Of herbs do I know, powerful medicines, and drugs that might make one feel no pain. What we have had-this I do not know. Already this evening slips away from my mind and I want something real," she said, lying. It was never her way to lie well, but for Methos' sake, she might, that he might think or speak no further upon this thing that hurt him.
"Methos, they might have been true sayings or they might have been lies. She wanted her death-anyone who wanted to die so would say anything, Methos. And the rest of her people-she asked us-begged us, in her way."
She knew she was trying to justify a horror. But she had done it so often-why not this time?
"Anath-Sin-Anna-I love you. I don't want you to ever be away from me."
She held him, and closed her eyes against the sorrow she felt. In some lifetime, they would be together, and this parting would be a memory. She did not want to go from him--but knew she must. It was not some sense of fate that told her this, but duty. It was her duty to go and do what might even make sense of her life. She had to return to the land of the black-headed people-to the land of Sumer and Agade. But she knew he needed to hear this-
"I will love you always-in this life and the next. Just believe me. The Oracle said one true thing-Death and the Whore-forever. We are forever."
On To "Farewell Yet Not Forever"