He would be sorry that he hadn’t had the chance to say goodbye to his friends, but they might try to dissuade him and he couldn’t have that. And Shelpa, well to her he’d been a mistake anyway and she’d still have Agis. She would get over him. Besides, she hadn’t asked him if he’d wanted to be this way, so she really had no right to complain if he found a way out. This now was his chance, his moment to complete what Uma had set in place. He’d be free and Inga wouldn’t have to leave, she could find another man to love her and still be the next Mutta. And then next time if Uma was right, they would be together as they were meant to be. It was harsh and cruel, but it was necessary.
He would ask her tonight, it was the ultimate act of love. And he believed now that she loved him sufficiently to do this for him. It would be hard and she wouldn’t want to do it, but eventually she’d understand.
It was dusk when she arrived, trotting happily through the trees,. She was about to run up to him, when she saw his face.
Slowly she approached. “What is it? What’s the matter?” she asked.
He waited until she was right in front of him, still searching his face for any hints or clues. “Cimon, tell me!” she demanded, close to anger.
He didn’t know how to ask it. That was the irony, he’d wanted and worked for this for so long and now the moment was here, he didn’t know how to proceed.
He took a deep breath and launched into his prepared speech. “Inga, please listen to me before you say anything. This is what’s supposed to happen. Why we’re both here, you and I. Only you can end this for both of us. You have to set me free, so I can go on and leave this behind. Inga, you have to free me from this life and what I’ve become.”
She interrupted before he could say any more. “I don’t know what you mean. Free you? How? What about salvation?”
He put his hands on her shoulders. “Inga, you are my salvation. You, not any good work or being nice and healing the sick. You and your love can set me free now, not later but now.”
“How?” she asked confused with real fear entering her voice.
He took another deep breath before answering. “If a seizer is killed with love and forgiveness of what we are, then both souls in the merged body are permitted to continue their journey. Both go free and not back to hell.”
“You want me to kill you? To sever you?” she asked, breaking free of his grip with an edge of hysteria in her voice.
He nodded. “Please, Inga. It’s why Uma set this to happen, so you could do this for me. She believed that after you do, we can have another life together. But only if you liberate me from this…” He indicated his whole body.
Inga’s frown became a scowl and then real anger crossed her face. “No! That’s not fair! What about me? What do I get? I’ll have to live without you, knowing what I’ve done. I’ve only just found out and now I have to give it up? I love you, Cimon. I want to be with you. I don’t want to go back to Mutta and tell her that I killed you or give Talaka the satisfaction.” She and turned away. Cimon waited for her. He’d known she’d refuse at first, but she’d realise eventually that it was the only way for them.
Quietly he moved to the side of the dwelling where he’d left the spike he’d taken from the Wielder in Rome all those years ago. Inga was still standing with her back to him, with her arms folded and muttering to herself.
Silently he waited for her, and as expected she turned around again. “Look, I see the...” She stopped when she saw what was in his hands. “How did you get that?” she asked eyeing the spike.
“From a Wielder I knew briefly in Rome. I kept it as a souvenir, in case it came in handy, which it has.” She regarded him carefully as she stepped closer to inspect the long circular wooden spike.
“It’s shorter than the ones we have,” she noted looking up.
He shrugged. “But it does the same thing,”
She became furious then shocked at his equability. “You expect me to do this now, here? After only a moon of knowing about us and you expect me to stick this into your heart and watch as you die?” She shook her head. “No, Cimon, I don’t think so. It’s not what you’ve waited for all these years, not why you’ve patiently watched me grow and carefully allowed me to make my own decisions and sparred against Mutta.”
“Inga.” He tried to stop her but she carried on.
“No, there’s another way. A better way. I will do this for you, I promise. But not now, not when I’m young and have my whole life ahead of me to love you. I’ll do this when I’m old and grey. I want a life with you, Cimon. I want to be around for when we have our time together. Next lifetime you say, but that won’t be me, it’ll be someone else. I want my time, my turn to love you, and for you to love me, because I won’t be Inga or Callie, but someone else entirely. And you won’t be you. We won’t even remember. So we have to take our time now! Don’t you see?
“Please, Cimon, let’s have this moment. Our time of summer where we can be free to love and not be afraid. When I’m old or dying, then yes, I will, I promise, but not now. Not when we could be happy together.” She took a step closer, and looked earnestly up at him to add weight to her arguments. “Please,” she added reaching up to kiss him softly on the lips.
It was if a weight had shifted; Cimon stared at her in wonderment that he’d missed it himself. He’d been so blinkered, seeing only one option that had to be done here and now. But it was simple, she was right: they could have this life and do what was necessary at the end after hopefully many, many years of happiness together. He felt a small smile play on his lips, which he saw echoed on Inga’s as she realised that he was agreeing. Finally, when he wrapped his arms around her, she laughed outright with sheer happiness.
“You see, it could work. I’m not so stupid,” she told him smiling at his evident relief.
“I never, ever thought you were. But Mutta won’t be happy and it’s cheating the gods.”
“Who cares about Mutta and it’s not cheating the gods, they brought us together, Cimon, they meant for this to happen,” Inga said taking his hands and dragging him to the entrance of the stone house. He didn’t argue, he was still astonished that the most obvious solution had never occurred to him. But actually as he thought back, he did remember vaguely Uma mentioning something like this could be possible and Cyrus had even suggested it. And maybe here in the quiet valley away from the dangers of the empire this was the ideal place to live a long and happy life together.
***
It was still early when Inga crept into the cottage, but Mutta was already dressed and carrying out the tasks of the day. She looked up but didn’t say anything as Inga went to her chest to change her clothes.
After several long moments of awkward silence Mutta finally spoke. “Have you decided what you’re going to do?”
“What do you mean?” Inga asked tying an old apron round her waist.
“Are you leaving us, or willing to face the flak here. We need both of you, but what’s happening is not acceptable to anyone,” she told the younger girl, putting down her grinder and looking at her.
Inga finished with the apron and considered the old woman. “Last night, Mutta, something happened. Cimon, I mean Goodman,” she corrected herself, “well, anyway, last night he asked me to do something I wasn’t prepared to do.” Mutta looked anxiously at her and Inga realised that she’d misunderstood. “No, not what you’re thinking; he asked me to sever him to set him free,” she told her.
“And you refused?” she asked quietly. Inga nodded. Mutta considered for a moment. “What about his talk of salvation?”
Inga came over to stand next to Mutta. “He said that if someone who loves them kills them with the spike, then they can be forgiven and continue the journey. Both souls, Mutta. But I couldn’t do it, it wasn’t fair. I’d be left without him, and, we’d only just found each other.” She looked at Mutta as if for reassurance, then continued. “He said we would be together again in another lifetime, if the gods willed it, but it wo
uldn’t be us, would it?”
“So I said I would do that, I promised I would but not now, not until we have to part and when I’m old and grey,”
Mutta had known about this, but Inga didn’t need to know that. She gently touched the girl’s shoulder. “Inga, I think that you did the right thing, and I’m sure he knows that. It does make sense. I hope that you both live a long and happy life together. It’s a good solution.”
Inga smiled sadly. “But it doesn’t solve what we do now though, does it?” Mutta could see tears beginning to well up in the girl’s eyes.
“Don’t worry; I believe I have a solution. I’ve been thinking on the problem. And after what you’ve told me, I’m sure it’s possible. I want you to arrange a meeting for us. I need to get him to agree to something.”
Inga stared at her curiously, a spark of hope and relief lighting up her face.
***
He waited by the boundary for them. Inga stayed with her and didn’t run ahead, a sure sign to Mutta that she was secure in his affection. He stood in his usual elegant way and smiled in welcome, but his greeting was wary and he had the decency to look contrite.
“I won’t get in the way of the gods, Cimon. Do you mind me calling you that?” she asked audaciously.
“By all means, Mutta, it’s the name of the shepherd that Inga once knew,” he replied courteously, “and an appropriate name for people who know me.”
Mutta nodded, gratified that he considered her close enough to use his real name. “She tells me that you were asking her to sever you, but that she’s persuaded you that there’s another happier solution.”
He nodded. “Inga’s far wiser than her years. She’s closer to the gods than I am, so I believe her solution has their blessing.”
“But it puts you both into a difficult position,” she replied, moving a little closer.
“I’m sorry for that, Mutta. Inga has asked if I will take her from here, but I’d rather not. It’s not fair to remove her from everyone she knows and loves.” She studied his colours and saw that his concern and reluctance was genuine.
“Not everyone,” she responded quickly. He acknowledged that but before he could answer she spoke. “It might not come to that. In our society a wise woman can have a family. I chose not to, but there is no reason why Inga shouldn’t.”
He smiled sadly. “I’m not a mortal man.”
“Exactly,” Mutta agreed. “Which is why we agreed to differ when we talked about this before. Your...” she paused, looking for suitable words, “…shall we say ‘condition’, causes some problems. But I’ve been thinking. I need and want Inga to stay and succeed me here. I also would like you to remain as you’ve been beneficial to us.” He quirked his eyebrow at that, but then realised that she meant it. “Now here is the solution. You are considered a god in this village, I know that you’re not, but the rest of them don’t. What do gods have in your world and mine to help us honour them appropriately?”
He considered her question for a moment, before he smiled in realisation. “A priestess.”
“Exactly,” Mutta replied. “Inga will be your priestess. They’ll agree as they already know about your friendship and healing. But to make it convincing we’ll have to create a bit of drama. Make up the fact that you’re a bit grumpy about looking after the extra villages, no longer satisfied with honey cakes. You were late back this year and many feared that you wouldn’t return. So they’re already anxious and concerned that you’re not happy. As a solution, Inga will appease you and speak on our behalf, acting as an emissary for you.”
But much to Mutta’s surprise he looked wary. “I don’t want to annoy the gods, Mutta. Your people made me one, but all I’ve done is provide you with food. I’ve not encouraged it other than that.”
Inga glanced at her. “Can I speak to him?” she asked.
Mutta nodded and Inga crossed the boundary and walked over to him. She’d put one hand on his arm and spoke quickly, Mutta could see he was listening to her and thinking about what she was saying, but she could see the tension in his body reflected in his colours. Gradually though, Inga seemed to be persuading him. Eventually she stopped, and stepped to one side, so that she was facing Mutta as well. He still looked unsure, and turned to ask her something, quietly she assured him. Finally he looked at Mutta.
“All right, I agree,” he said, whilst next to him Inga grinned at her. Mutta tried to hide her smile; he clearly not only trusted, but also respected Inga despite her youth.
“Good. Now to practicalities. You’ll need to be seen by Helmut and some of his men.” She saw consternation on his face, but once again Inga whispered quietly; he wasn’t happy, but eventually he nodded. “Inga will give you honey cakes and you’ll insist that she goes with you and she stays with you, say for three days?
“Oh,” added Mutta, “perhaps to emphasise your difference, you ought to keep your top off – that will impress them – and carry your bow.” Inga giggled next to him, but he looked outraged at that. Maybe Mutta decided that was pushing him too far.
***
The next morning Inga appeared early at the cottage and helped Mutta make another batch of honey cakes. She said that Cimon wasn’t happy but would be waiting for them on the hill, and he’d asked that Mutta make it as short as possible. They were both taken back at how shy and reluctant he was about the charade. Though, Mutta suggested that he was used to hiding his difference and so it probably felt strange and wrong to be flaunting it.
Finally, Mutta was satisfied with her preparations and she ushered Inga out and went to collect Helmut and his best hunters.
The people watched them as they left the village with Helmut and Mutta leading the group of hunters and Inga in the middle carrying a tray of honey cakes. Embarrassingly, her father had insisted on being part of the ceremony and much to Inga’s annoyance Helmut and Mutta had agreed.
They stopped at the bottom of the hill by the boundary stones. Inga put the cakes down and Mutta told the men to step back, then she moved forward and in a loud voice called out to Goodman.
It was a proper invocation, though the men didn’t know that she’d thought it up earlier whilst Inga had made the cakes. After calling to him they all waited anxiously for the god Goodman to appear. For long moments nothing happened and Mutta was tempted to look behind her to check with Inga that she’d passed on the correct message. But as she was about to call again, he appeared, without his tunic as requested.
Slowly he came down the hill, but this wasn’t the Goodman she knew and fenced with, this one shone like a god, and emanated a strange luminescence that she was sure even the hunters around her could see. He was holding himself with the supreme arrogance of the immortals and those far more powerful than earthly beings. Mutta was impressed and around her she heard the men gasp in wonder and awe.
Quickly, she glanced around to Inga. It was her turn, but the young woman was also spellbound at the transformation. “Inga,” she hissed.
Startled, Inga suddenly remembered, and after pulling a shocked face at Mutta, she gathered up the tray and an awestruck Helmut helped her over the boundary so that she could walk alone up the hill with the honey cakes.
She was supposed to head straight for him and as she arrived, he was to stop her and then turn aside making it clear that he wanted her to go with him. Thankfully, they both remembered their instructions and it all passed as it should, with Inga continuing up the hill as he waited below watching them, though Mutta speculated with wry amusement on what angst-ridden communication had probably occurred between them. At just the right time he bowed his head to them in acceptance and then turned and followed Inga up the slope.
Show over, Mutta thought, and breathed a sigh of relief. Both had played their part well, but Cimon had surpassed himself.
“Where’s she going?” Gert, Inga’s father asked. Mutta glanced at him
“She’s a healer, Gert, her priority is the village. It’s up to Inga now to make sure that he stays,
” she told him briskly. She didn’t want Inga’s father causing any problems now it was almost settled.
“Gert, you lost the right to worry when Inga left to go into Mutta’s care. She’s doing this for the whole village. It’s an honour that he’s chosen this place and our girl to be his priestess,” Helmut told him clapping him on the back. “We’ll have a feast tonight in honour of Goodman and your girl.”
Thankfully that cheered Gert up and Helmut was clearly delighted by what had happened. So they went back to the village feeling happier about the coming winter and full of what they’d seen.
***
Three days later Inga returned to the village. As she walked through, people stopped what they were doing and watched her. A few called out for her to bless them. By the time she arrived at Mutta’s cottage she was thoroughly unnerved and disconcerted.
Mutta met her at the door and wasn’t sympathetic. “What do you expect coming back in the middle of the day? I expected you to come in quietly this morning before anyone was up, not now drawing attention to yourself.”
“But, Mutta, you said three days, so it is, three days precisely,” Inga protested.
Mutta shook her head in disbelief. “Well, despite that, you did well, both of you. They all think you’re the new priestess and everyone’s happy. And everyone’s convinced that you’ve persuaded him to stay. You’ll be able to come and go as you please, though you’ll have to visit some of the other establishments. They also want to benefit from Goodman’s priestess.” Inga looked horrified and began to say something. “I’m sorry,” Mutta told her, “I didn’t realise that this would happen, but really, Inga, it’s a small price to pay. You’ll be a wise woman soon so you’ll have to travel anyway. Stop complaining, it’s done now.”
Inga nodded and hugged her. “Thank you so much for doing this, Mutta.”
“That’s more like it. Now I’ve saved you some herbs to grind, they’re over there,” Mutta told her releasing her arms. “Go on, get on, you’ve missed three days, and winter’s coming soon.” Inga grinned happily and picked up the grinder.