“He’s referring to the galli,” Griffin explained. “Cybele’s transgender priestesses. Each year, in late-March, on what was called the day of blood, men who wished to attain the rank of priestess castrated themselves and thereafter dressed as women.”
“Hope they were drunk when they did it.” Erik grimaced.
“In all probability, they were,” Griffin agreed. “The cult of Cybele is a mystery religion which relies on ecstatic communion with the divine. Various hallucinogenic and intoxicating substances would have been a standard part of religious ceremonies.”
“You were saying the Romans had a problem with these guys or gals or whatever?’ the pythia asked.
“They passed laws prohibiting any Roman citizen from becoming a gallus,” Ozgur explained. “Though in later years, a citizen could substitute the sacrifice of a bull and its genitalia for his own in a ritual called the tauroboleum.”
“Craziness,” Cassie commented, shaking her head in disbelief.
“Actually, most of the early goddess religions were quite tolerant of transgender worshippers,” the scrivener pointed out. “Cross-dressing didn’t become a problem until overlord cultures, and especially the Christian Church, actively persecuted such individuals.”
“Why doesn’t anybody know about all this?” the pythia asked of nobody in particular.
Ozgur picked up the goddess figurine contemplatively. “Once upon a time, everyone knew. Now we have forgotten and need to be reminded of just how ancient and universal the worship of this type of deity was. It echoes backward in time and spans countries around the globe. This image of a woman flanked by lions is repeated in myths around the world of goddesses so old that they are always referred to as the mother of the gods. In Egypt, it was the lion-headed goddess Sekhmet. In Minoa, it was Rhea. In Mesopotamia, it was Ishtar. In India, it was Durga who is called the Mother of the Universe. Even in remote Scandinavia, it was Freya whose chariot is drawn by two cats. This far-flung distribution suggests how very old this image of the goddess really is. Her presence is so all-pervasive that overlord mythology had no choice but to find a way to assimilate her.”
“And in spite of all that, the archaeologists in charge of this dig are stumped by what this statue is?” Cassie felt incredulous.
Ozgur smiled. “You must remember that they are approaching this project like scientists with microscopes. Sometimes in the process of studying the details of a subject, one can lose sight of the larger picture. They have no context for understanding this image.”
“I hope you set them straight,” the pythia insisted.
“One day perhaps they will be ready to listen. For now, it’s enough that we know what we know.” He paused for a moment, considering something, then he held the statue out to Cassie. “Perhaps you could tell us more about her.”
The pythia hesitated.
Griffin and Erik glanced worriedly at one another.
“Are you sure it isn’t tainted?” Erik asked Ozgur.
“Not so far as we know,” the trove keeper replied.
Cassie touched the pendant around her neck which Faye had given her. In case the object did have any disturbing associations, she would be able to ground herself. Wrapping her left hand around the pendant stone, she held out her right to receive the statue.
The room went dark. She was in a box, or she guessed that was how one of the Catal Huyuk rooms would have felt with walls and a roof overhead. The only light came from a fire burning in a corner of the room with its smoke funneling upwards through a hole in the roof. The atmosphere was so thick it almost made her choke. The air reeked with the acrid odor of smoke and unwashed human bodies. There were voices chanting behind her. They made a droning sound. Her consciousness settled in a thick-set, middle-aged woman who was kneeling in front of a freshly dug pit in the floor. Inside the pit, a small skeleton lay on its side in a fetal position. The remains of a child of about two. There were bracelets of blue stone around its wrists.
A little storage chest filled with grain rested on the floor by the woman’s knees. She held the goddess figurine in front of her as she murmured a prayer for renewal. She placed the goddess inside the chest with the grain and closed the lid. Cassie could feel her invoking the goddess to transform the child who had been placed in the earth just as she transformed the seeds of grain into stalks of wheat. That which was planted would grow. This little one would change form in the body of the goddess and be reborn in the Otherland. The priestess sprinkled red powder over the bones. Then she sat back on her heels and bowed her head.
Cassie blinked. She returned to the present. The pythia laughed at the tense expression that her teammates wore. “Relax, guys. This one wasn’t too bad.” She then told them what she had witnessed. “I’m not sure what the red powder was though.”
“It would have been red ochre,” Griffin answered. “It was used in the burial practices of many ancient cultures. It symbolized the blood of life. The belief that the earth mother would give new life to the deceased.”
“Transmutation? Resurrection? Hmmm. Seems to me that sort of power is a little beyond the paygrade of a mere fertility figure, don’t you think?” Fred asked archly.
“Sure sounds like it to me,” Erik concurred.
“Too bad we can’t just trot out the pythia to end the great debate with Percival,” Fred commented. “It could save a lot of time.”
Ozgur gave a fleeting smile. “You must know he wouldn’t believe her.” He turned his attention to Cassie, and his expression became serious. “I am very grateful to you for the additional insight into our artifact. Thank you.” He inclined his head in a slight bow.
Cassie blushed at being treated so respectfully. She gave a jerky little nod of acknowledgment. “I’m glad I could help.”
Aydin lowered himself into his chair. Looking at each of his guests in turn, he
