not last.
Because this is a doomed love; as doomed as a god can make it. Many things are stronger than love, the frailest force in the universe. Chryse Diomenes will sicken under the burden of death and blood and war; and he will leave her there, at the gates of Troy, as the towers flame like oil-lamps and are quenched with blood.'
`Troy will fall,' said Poseidon hungrily. `I will wash out their presumption with bitter water as salty as unnumbered tears.'
Aphrodite, in her moss green draperies, sat down on the edge of the pool and breathed on the water. It revealed a large city built of grey stone. Many ships were in the harbour, and banners flew from the highest point.
`In the palace of Troy, which shall not fall if I can prevent it,' said Aphrodite, stroking a silver-feathered dove, `she is being born. My maiden. Cassandra the twin, understanding all, seeing all. No god will be able to hide from her! I give her clear sight and a strong heart. She will meet your Diomenes - your golden Chryse, Lord Apollo, and she will not falter, and neither will he. They will endure though the city falls into destruction, because love is stronger in despair. Nothing will part them; they will be one flesh. Join with me, mother and queen! Hera, Demeter, behold your daughter.'
They looked into the Pool of Beginnings, where a golden-haired child and her brother toddled fearlessly into a temple and snakes wreathed them. Demeter Earth Mother put out her hand, palm down, her arm twined with never-fading flowers. `Daughter Cassandra,' she said, `be wise and strong. Trust in yourself.'
Hera, queen of the gods, breathed divine life into the small figure. `Daughter Cassandra,' she said, you have dominion and the power of command. But beware of men, little princess. Beware of the beguilements of the Lord of the Sun. For that is what you intend, is it not?' she challenged Apollo. `You intend to seduce her from the Mother to your worship, Sun God?'
`Of course,' agreed Apollo. `She will be my maiden, then maiden no longer - and she will fail, Lady of Mortal Love. No human can be more steadfast than the gods. I will test her, Aphrodite of Cyprus, and she will fail. Her loves will fall from her like leaves from a tree, leaving her naked to men's cruelty and men's lust. No love will be left in her when she meets my creature Diomenes, and he will have no love left to give. Your wager is lost,' he smiled his three-cornered smile, breathtakingly beautiful.
`Humans cannot be as enduring as trees,' Demeter was uneasy. `What game is this, played without rules? Poor healer, poor princess! If you persist in this, my lord, I will oppose you. The power of Earth is great and it is ancient - far older than your petty male worship of ideas and words. I will assist her, I warn you, if you intend to cheat.'
`What about Troy?' Poseidon breathed on the water, and black ships swept across the troubled sea. `Troy can stand against any siege. How then, shall it fall and I be avenged?'
`That is another matter,' said Athene uneasily, `in which the Father Zeus has an interest. Leave to me the fall of Troy, and the punishment of blasphemers.'
`And the maiden Cassandra and this poor healer-priest Diomenes?' asked Demeter. `Shall they be caught up in these great events and tortured and twisted, all for the sake of a wager? Have you no pity?'
`For the sake of the golden apple,' said Apollo to Aphrodite, `I oppose my Chryse Diomenes to your Cassandra, Princess of Troy. I will prove that your light power, frail love, easily broken, is no match for thought and philosophy and war; I will prove that men will trade all the happiness in the world for a handful of ashes. The golden apple is mine.'
He snatched it out of Aphrodite's hand, then dropped it as if it stung his fingers. She had warmed it with the heat of her eyes, and it shone white hot, sizzling on the marble floor.`Not yet,' said the goddess of love. `You have not won yet.'
I
Cassandra
It was a black vision. Sand under my feet, the ocean roaring, the flames biting at the sky as the holy city of Ilium was consumed. Achaean voices in the night; harsh, triumphant, trumpets braying the death of Troy.
It was not a vision. I smelt sweat, grease, salt, men, and burning. Always the burning, the reek of wood and flesh which soured my nostrils and seared my throat. I have no refuge. I am unarmed. I will not be here. I will not hear. I will not see. I will not feel.
When we were three they took us, my twin brother and me, to the house of the Mother, the cave under Troy where Gaia the goddess dwelt, pregnant with life. I am told that we are identical, Cassandra and Eleni, both small square children with the golden hair of the house of Tros.
We were not afraid, because we were never afraid when we were together. Nyssa, our nurse, led us to the entrance of the cave, and I remember hearing her voice quaver as she said, `Go in, now, and don't be scared.' We wondered that Nyssa was frightened.
We could see nothing to fear. We joined hands in case there should be something interesting in the dark which one of us might miss, and toddled forward into the grateful dark. Both Eleni and I have always had sensitive eyes which cannot bear strong sunlight.
It was not black, in the womb of the earth mother. A little light leaked in from the open door, and more through cracks in the beehive brick which made the dome. The floor was dry and sandy.
The walls were decorated with frescos of dancers and bulls and we were fascinated. Eleni pointed and said, `Bull,' and we toddled over to touch the picture, tracing the proud horned head and the curves of the elegant acrobats, the bull-leapers, coloured ochre for male and white for female. In the centre of the womb rose the phallus of Dionysius the god, erect, pointing skyward, and when we ran out of bulls we sat down with our backs against it, beginning to be bored.
There was a slither in the sand and two snakes came out of some hole and inched towards us. We were delighted. We had never been allowed to play with the house snakes, and these were much bigger than the rat killers that lived under every house altar. They were as fat as my arm, mottled a beautiful green and brown like the gauze on our Lady Mother's veil that came, she said, from so far away.
The snakes paused, flicked the air with their forked tongues, and inched towards us. Eleni and I held our breath, afraid that we might scare them. They moved in a fascinating way, leaving v-shaped patterns in the dust. Although we could hear a scrape of scales, they seemed to flow, without effort, and the patterns rippled as they moved. They seemed to be creatures entirely divine, unearthly, purposeful.
They split up and approached us. I stared into the dark, hoping that they would come closer. Eleni whispered, `Pretty,' and reached out his hands. They came closer, one snake for each twin, and rose up from the ground, so that we were looking for a moment straight into the serpents' eyes.
There was something there, we both felt it: intelligence, or will. Slowly, as though they did not want to startle us, the heads swayed to left and right, and we giggled as the flickering tongues touched first one ear and then the other.
The snakes withdrew. We were sorry. Then an old woman and a young man came in, looked at us, and went out again. The woman was ancient. Her hair floated like a white cloud, she was bent and toothless and leaned on a staff. The young man glowed with life.
He had a fierce, wild face and he grinned at us with white teeth. He carried a vine staff in one strong brown hand and he was wreathed with vine leaves.
It was the first time we had seen the gods. Mother Gaia as crone and Lord Dionysius in all his dangerous
