The Seed of Sarothen - Part 2

Previously on SoS:

The first shall be a temple

The sacrilege, to forgive

Blessings of a Goddess

And the lives of those who live

The Seed shall have their power

Roused from its dormant bliss

So Bearer hurry and take it fast

To the abode of Artemis.

Arrazesh rolled back the parchment and put it back into the bag. He cursed for he knew not of any temple dedicated to Artemis grand enough to be fit for the Seed of Sarothen.

“Not even in my lifetime!” he repeated and cursed again. “But Babylon will not have gone in vain! The Seed must be harnessed!”

Cloaked in the darkness of the night Arrazesh left the city with a stunned Saralledh – still unable to grasp the information presented to him, amazed to hear the clink of the gold pieces given to him which bound him to Arrazesh and knowing fully well that he would die before the task was over. 

---

Hilla, 541 B.C.

41-year old Saralledh looked across the sand to the coloured specks approaching his way. The specks slowly materialized into a caravan of grumpy-looking camels with heaps of silks and perfumes on their backs.

The man atop the first camel greeted Saralledh jovially. He knew the man very well – as did any person who travelled through the town of Hilla.

“Well?” asked Saralledh.
“You will be so pleased, my friend! Oh yes!”
“You have news then?”
“Better. We have actually seen it!”
“Artemis!”
“We were passing through Ephesus – never before had we gone that way – and do you know, my friend-”
“What?”
“They have the most beautiful temple there! The temple of the Goddess Artemis!”

Finally!


THE BLESSING


Ephesus, 540 B.C. – The Temple Of Artemis

Saralledh was not much of a sight when he arrived in Ephesus – his only possessions were what he stood in and a worn-out satchel. The journey had been long, treacherous and far from pleasant. But Saralledh had managed to protect his gold, the brown parchment Arrazesh had given to him before dying, and most important of all - the Seed.

He patted the satchel just to comfort himself that it was there. He sat down and read the parchment again. He knew what he had to do.

In the horizon the massive temple loomed large and awe-inspiring, against the blazing sky as the sun dipped into the distant sands.

He plodded on till the towering pillars of the temple sternly bore down upon him at the entrance. Ephesus was asleep; the night’s darkness heavy and black.

A few lamps flickered inside the temple, dispelling the darkness just enough for Saralledh to make his way through a maze of pillars towards the temple priests.

Saralledh told the priests as much as he thought necessary – about the sacrifice of Babylon and the Seed of Sarothen, but he didn’t mention the power it could yield. His journey had taught him that it was best not to give the reasons for blessing the Seed. If there was no reason, he thought, there would be no greed-and with that no harm could come to him. The priests listened to him, the silence broken only by the melancholy song of the breeze as it raced past the temple. Saralledh finished his narrative and then waited for their reaction.

The head priest said nothing for some time, absorbing the news that this ragged stranger brought to him in the darkness of night. Saralledh stood watching the lines of his face- highlighted in the lamp’s faint glow as the shadows danced silently across the pillars.

When the priest finally spoke, his words were astonishing.

“It is the oracle – come true!”

He brought out a slab of marble on which there was a scripture. This is what it says, the priest explained, correctly comprehending Saralledh’s blank look. “The sin has been committed but it brings with it the greatest force the world has seen. He who controls it, controls the destinies of mortals of all lands. For he is the Bearer of the Seed of Sarothen.”

The temple was quiet again – the lamps exposing the grave faces as the men pondered over the immensity of the situation. A soft shiver went down Saralledh’s back as he realized that he held the future of the world in a dirty satchel hung by his side.

“Well”, he spoke finally, breaking the silence pressing down on them. “I know what to do.”

The priests moved aside and waited.

“There are 127 columns in this temple, if I am not mistaken”

The priests nodded.

“All the pillars will have to be turned towards the cella – the divine central chamber.”

Saralledh looked purposefully at them, but received no response. Finally, a young priest spoke –

“Are you out of your mind? These pillars cannot be shifted – and even if by Artemis’ grace they could – how on earth would you know that the pillars were facing the cella.” The priest added sarcastically – “In case you haven’t noticed, these columns are round!”

Saralledh listened patiently and then spoke-“I agree – the entire thing does seem fantastic”

The priest attempted a snort.

“But” Saralledh continued “it can be done. The cella should have a sculpted bird to the right of Artemis. Go there and lift its right wing. The cores of all the pillars will shift to form smaller cores and the pillars will all be ready to be turned.”

One of the priests went off towards the cella.

Saralledh continued – “Once we are able to-”

He was interrupted by an exclamtion – “In the name of Artemis – it lifts!”

Saralledh smiled and went on-“As I was saying, once we are able to turn the pillars around in their bases, comes the problem of knowing which face of the pillar should be turned towards the cella. Call it coincidence or call it Fate, you will notice a certain form sculpted right at the top of all the pillars, where they join the ceiling. That form is the sign of the Seed of Sarothen.

All the priests immediately looked up and after a few seconds of intense appraisal, they saw the symbol, minute as it was:

All of them gasped instinctively.

“But…but that looks so obvious! How did we never notice it before?”

“Quite simple really…these pillars are huge, and the symbol is so very, very small – one cannot spot it unless one is looking for it.”

“But how was it carved? Or why -”

“I told you – coincidence…Fate…Destiny – take your pick”

“Let’s get back to the task - Saralledh - what will happen once all the pillars are turned towards the cella?”

“I have no idea!”

The quiet Ephesus night watched as the men groaned and pushed, turning each column till the symbol etched on each pillar faced the divine cella.

Saralledh was still grunting with the last pillar when the sky gleamed silver, interspersed with bands of gold and the sun peeped in to see what the men were doing.

It was still too early and Ephesus was still happily ignorant of the miracle about to happen.

With the 127th mark turned to face the cella, Saralledh backed away to where the priests were standing and waited.

Nothing!

They waited and waited – but nothing happened.

“But I’ve done what the parchment says!” cried Saralledh frantically. “All the pillars are perfectly aligned to –”

He stopped midway – then slapped his forehead, softly cursing himself, much to the embarrasment of all the priests around him.

“The Seed!” he cried “I haven’t placed the Seed. It’s still with me!”

“What are you supposed to do with it?” asked one of the priests.

“Well, the prophecy doesn’t say anything but that’s the only thing missing I can think of!” Saralledh shrugged, his face questioning the priests.

 Receiving no reaction against his idea, he slowly removed the glistening Seed – pure and uncorrupted out of his satchel and walked towards the cella, gingerly placing it right at the centre, then hurried back.

For a moment the temple was still. Then with astonishing speed, as the priests fell back in shock, the Seed shot into the air as 127 jets of blazing light simultaneously converged to strike it! The Seed whirled around, trapped at a point blinding to the naked eye – spinning, spinning and spinning!

***

Pallanthus reluctantly opened his eyes. It was the middle of the night and he was quite irritated at being shaken awake.

The priests were speaking in hushed whispers and Pallanthus gasped as he realized what had happened. After more than a hundred years since the Day of Light as the Ephesians called it, the jets had finally stopped and the Seed of Sarothen hovered gently in the air – its pale glow enchanting in the utter darkness.

“My time has come” thought Pallanthus as strange pangs of excitement and dread clenched his stomach.

Saralledh had died, passing on his knowledge to Minnaeus who in turn had entrusted Pallanthus with the responsibility of getting on with the task. It was time for the second task.

He unfolded the disintegrating parchment and read:

“The second is a statue

The greatest that exists

Take it to the God of Gods

For divinity’s kiss

There it shall be empowered

With the strength of Gods

Take it Bearer, take it now

Take it against all odds.”

***