“Let me guess. Your buddy Percival isn’t thrilled with that idea?” Erik asked sarcastically.
“He’s doing everything but stand on his head to show that it was just your average overlord culture,” Fred said in disgust. “I especially get a kick out of his interpretation of the bull horns.”
“But surely, he’s seen the mural you just showed us,” Griffin objected.
“Nope, not yet.” Fred gave a laugh. “We just finished cleaning it up yesterday. I can’t wait to see the look on his face when we do.”
While his assistant was speaking, Ozgur walked out of the room to retrieve something from the back-storage area. He returned with a figurine about as big as a man’s hand and placed it gently on the front of his desk. It was a stone carving of a very obese naked woman seated on a throne and resting her forearms on the backs of two lionesses who stood on either side of her.
“That lady could use a tread climber!” Cassie exclaimed.
Erik chuckled.
“Fatness was once viewed as a sign of abundance,” the trove keeper observed. “It would have been considered a desirable trait.”
Griffin moved his chair closer to get a better look. “Oh, I say, she is remarkable.”
“We found this statue in a grain storage bin in one of the shrine rooms,” Ozgur said. “Many similar female figures have been found throughout the site, but the conventional theory is that these are fertility figurines.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?” Cassie was puzzled.
Fred raised his eyebrows. “That’s what I’d like to know. Overlord archaeologists like Percival are falling all over themselves to say a bunch of horns are symbols of male divinity, but a statue like this gets explained away as a stone age lucky charm because it popped out of a cereal box.”
“Oh, she’s far more than that,” Griffin said, turning the base of the object slightly. “The composition suggests she is a potnia theron.”
“I know you said potnia means something like lady or goddess,” Cassie remarked.
“Very good,” Griffin said encouragingly. “You see, Erik. I told you she wasn’t hopeless.”
“I didn’t say that exactly,” Erik demurred.
“No, I believe you said something about a brain like a sieve,” the scrivener reminded him offhandedly, still entranced by the statue.
Cassie shot the security coordinator a reproachful look.
“Sorry, toots.” His grin was almost sheepish. “I take it all back.”
The pythia raised her chin defiantly and continued her earlier question. “Then what does theron mean?”
“Potnia theron would translate to something like Lady of the Animals or Goddess of the Wild Creatures,” Griffin explained. “It’s a concept that echoes all the way back to the Venus of Laussel some twenty thousand years ago. Gatherer-hunters worshipped the goddess as one who kept all living things in balance. She multiplied all life—both animal and human, hence her ample dimensions.”
Cassie scrutinized the statue in puzzlement. “But why is she sitting next to lions? Isn’t that a really odd choice? There aren’t any wild lions in Turkey.”
“Not anymore.” Ozgur’s tone was wistful. “They were hunted to extinction in this country in the 1800s. The Asiatic lion once roamed as far west as the Balkans. Now the few that remain are confined to a very small region in India.”
“Overlords couldn’t resist killing them,” Fred interjected. “They didn’t present that much of a threat to livestock, so it was mainly bragging rights over a trophy kill.”
“That’s disturbing,” Cassie said.
“That’s overlord culture,” Erik commented succinctly.
Ozgur regarded the figurine closely. “While it is true that the idea of the potnia theron originated in the ancient past, this particular figure also persists well into historic times. Much as my colleagues try to deny that she is a deity, this little statue is the embodiment of the Goddess Cybele.”
“Who’s she?”
“The great mother goddess of Anatolia. During the classical age, she was the most significant deity in all of Asia Minor. You are, in fact, going to her principal place of worship on Mount Ida.”
“But how do you know it’s the same goddess?” Cassie persisted. “The classical age didn’t start until thousands of years after this statue was carved.”
“Because Cybele is always depicted with lions,” Griffin jumped in. “She is either shown driving a chariot pulled by lions or seated on a throne between two lions. There are statues carved in Rome as late as the second century of our current era that show her in exactly the same pose as this figurine.”
“The Romans, haughty overlords that they were, did not mistake Cybele for a mere fertility symbol,” Ozgur observed. “To them, she was the Magna Mater. They respected her power and prayed for her assistance,”
“The Sybilline prophecy,” Griffin said cryptically. “Of course.”
Cassie and Erik exchanged a blank look. Erik shrugged.
Griffin continued speaking, half to himself. “When Hannibal was on the verge of invading Rome around 200 CE, one of the Sybilline oracles predicted that the only way the Romans could defeat their enemy would be to bring the goddess to Rome.”
“How do you bring a goddess anywhere?” Cassie asked.
“Do you recall what I told you about baetyls? They are meteor rocks that are believed to be the seat of a deity. One such baetyl was housed in the ancient city of Pessinus. It was the largest iron meteorite in the known world. Over sixteen feet high and weighing several hundred tons, it was believed to be the personification of the goddess Cybele. The Romans negotiated to have the baetyl moved to Rome. They took the prophecy so seriously that they commissioned a magnificent temple to be built for it, right on the top of Vatican Hill.”
“What!” Cassie felt shocked.
Griffin laughed. “That’s right. Directly under Saint Peter’s Basilica rests the remains of Cybele’s temple. In fact, Bernini’s baldacchino, a huge bronze canopy in the present church, is said to have been inspired by the design of the pagan structure.”
“Cybele became the state deity of the Romans. She was venerated everywhere.” Ozgur gave a slight smile. “Unfortunately, the Romans were less accepting of her devotees.”
Cassie stared at
