The Priestess and the Queen

The goddess Ashtart ruled the reproductive power of all creatures from honey bees to human beings. People prayed to her for a safe pregnancy, an easy childbirth, healthy children, and a bountiful harvest in the fields. Her awesome power to sustain or deny life was taken seriously. Without the blessings of the Goddess of Heaven, life would no longer exist.

The Temple of Ashtart was home to some ninety maidens devoted to the goddess. As in Tyre, Ashtart’s temple in Kition excluded young women who weren’t perfectly perfect according to a narrow set of ideals. Queen Elishat knew there were plenty of other women in Kition who were smart and funny and creative and adventurous and sexy even if they didn’t, or perhaps because they didn’t measure up to a glorified definition of beauty. She hoped several of them would find her fleet of hunky sailors irresistible, but she had to put the puzzle together one piece at a time and in exactly the right order. By inviting the temple maidens first, she figured, she could bank on their prestige to entice some of the townswomen to join her group, too. What she didn’t anticipate was the enormous stroke of luck that lay ahead.

Queen Elishat and a small entourage of royal wives ascended the temple steps, the very same steps where Amaal and Hannu had left their medallions in haste the day before. Amaal hid herself in the group as they passed the lecherous portrait artist who, having re-arranged his table and materials, bared his teeth and beckoned the women to come sit with him for a portrait. None complied, and Amaal was relieved to reach the top step and enter the safety of the temple. After a footbath, they were escorted into the temple’s most sacred chamber. An ornately carved marble throne stood empty at one end of the room. Behind it, a potted tree jungle held several fancy bird cages, home to yellow-winged finches whose gentle chirpings echoed off the walls. Elishat was shown to a cushioned chair. Her excited entourage perched like proud thrushes on a bench that spanned the side of the room. Amaal quickly put together her flute and began to play. The melody progressed slowly, randomly, according to wherever her fingers happened to linger, but to listeners new to the flute’s ethereal tone, the sound was exotic and pleasant.

A temple bell chimed three times, and everyone stood. Amaal continued playing, and a moment later, the Priestess floated majestically through the stone archway at the far end of the room. She was extraordinarily tall and exceedingly slender, dressed in a pleated white gown edged in gold at the cuffs and hem, and belted with a gold cord. Her high cone hat made her appear even taller. Her lips were berry red, and her kohl eyeliner extended to a finely-felined point far beyond the corners of her eyes. The effect was striking, but most surprising, to Amaal, at least, was that the Priestess wore a long, narrow beard that ended bluntly just above her breastbone. This was not unlike the false beards worn by some of the elders Amaal had seen at the royal wedding, but, from where she stood, Amaal could see that the beard was real, and she wondered whether, underneath it all, the guardian of the Temple of Ashtart was a man.

The Priestess stepped onto the platform that held the throne and turned to face the room as if she were standing before an audience of thousands. The gold bangles on her wrists jangled as she gestured for everyone to be seated. Two maidens circled the room, one tapping two tiny brass cymbals and the other droning an incantation as the smoke from her censer swept upward. Sweet tea was served, which the Queen and her entourage refused, as was the custom. At the second, more insistent offer, they accepted, as was the custom. In a gesture of welcome, the Priestess called for the removal of her conical hat. A temple maiden lifted it from her head and set it on a side table. Now in a more informal mode, the Priestess picked up her glass of tea, and Elishat followed with hers, as was the custom. Thus, refreshed and relatively comfortable, the Priestess and the Queen began their conversation. Amaal set down her flute and sat at the side of the room to watch and listen as Elishat presented her case. 

“Priestess, thank you for inviting me into the sacred temple. You’ve no doubt heard the details of my departure from Tyre.”

The Priestess, still gazing outward at her imaginary throng of followers, nodded slowly without a change of expression.

“I won’t repeat the story. I am here not because of what came before but for the promise of the days ahead.”

The Priestess made no comment.

“In my new settlement, wherever that might be, my first command will be to set the cornerstone for the Temple to Ashtart.”

A slight smile came across the Priestess’s lips.

“In the shortest time possible, the temple will be built, but even before it is completed, I’ll need temple maidens to conduct the appropriate ceremonies and rituals. Our settlement cannot succeed without the hand of the Goddess.”

The Priestess’ gaze shifted as if she had suddenly seen something there.

“Furthermore,” Elishat said, “I need women to populate my settlement. I have sixty-some sailors and many bachelor men in my group. If I want to keep them, I’ll need women to warm their beds—and bear their children.”

The high priestess raised her hand. “Say no more, sister,” she said calmly. She beckoned a temple maiden and whispered something to her. The maiden hurried from the room. “I have directed all of the women of the temple to meet with you. You are welcome to invite all of them, and any who wish to join you do so with my blessing.”

Elishat was taken by surprise. The title “sister” was a gesture of friendship rarely used among higher-ups except among family members. Furthermore, Elishat had expected to have to do far more convincing before the Priestess would release any of her temple maidens, much less allowing them to go at will.

“Your consent is a great blessing. I am pleased and surprised. Thank you.”

“Something tells me—perhaps it is the wisdom of the Goddess—that you are embarked on an important journey. In all aspects of life, the feminine is essential to balance the masculine. Your success will be impossible without this equilibrium.” The Priestess tapped her rings against the side of the glass. “And who, might I ask, will be your High Priestess?”

It was a question Elishat had not yet considered. Though she had recently been elevated to high priestess of Tyre, Elishat did not relish the position for herself, what with all she had to do as queen. Rather than hide her indecision, though, she appealed to the good will that the Priestess had already shown toward her.

“I would be grateful for your guidance.”

 The Priestess set her tea aside and leaned toward her guest. “Sister,” she said urgently, “you must not allow even one day to pass without a high priestess in your new city. The temple must be built immediately and according to sacred law. Every stone must be consecrated. Her pillars, her sacrificial altar, her floor stones, her wooden beams, everything down to the oil in her lamps must be properly prepared for blessing by Goddess. You can’t depend on a flock of chattering temple maidens to know what they’re doing. You need a high priestess!”

“Do you recommend elevating one of the maidens to high priestess?” Elishat asked. She hoped not because the elaborate consecration ceremony normally took many days. She quietly wondered if it might be possible to expedite the process as she was planning to depart Kition in the morning.

“I have an even better idea,” the Priestess said. She paused dramatically.

“I’m eager to hear what it is.”

“With the blessing of Goddess, I will join your entourage.”

Elishat nearly spilled her tea. “But…but what of the people here? How will the temple get along without you?”

The Priestess shooed the air. “The people can choose, or the King can send a new priestess from Tyre.”

“Pumayyaton? He’ll be surprised to hear that you’ve left Kition,” Elishat said.

The Priestess raised an eyebrow. “Not nearly as surprised as he’ll be to hear that you’ve left Tyre!”

They shared a soft, irreverent chuckle, after which the Priestess explained, “Like you, I came to Kition as a refugee. That was many years ago. My parents, may the gods bless their memory, brought me away for my own protection from the small-minded king. The people of Kition appreciated me for who I am and deemed that I should become high priestess in the new temple, and so I have held the honored position for several years. Pumayyaton can send whomever he pleases, or the people of Kition can decide for themselves. I will dedicate myself to your settlement and, Goddess willing, to its success.”

Elishat agreed immediately to the offer. Not only had she gained a high priestess, she now had a powerful enticement for other women of Kition to join her band of travelers, too.

By the way,” the Priestess added, counting on her long fingers, “the Temple employs an architect, a cook, a baker, many singers, a gardener, and a barber. We have many enslaved servants. Some of these people may join us, too.”

“Yes, and the more that are women, the better.”

“They are all women,” the Priestess replied plainly. “Goddess would not have it any other way.” The Priestess promised Elishat that her people would be ready for departure in the morning. She exited with ritual formality, and Elishat proceeded to the temple courtyard with Amaal and the royal entourage of women in her wake.

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