(This is the first chapter of the book I started a few years ago. It is my desire to finish this book in the near future. Enjoy and let me know your thoughts.)
Muse, sing of Artemis, sister of the Far-shooter, the virgin who delights in arrows, who was fostered with Apollo. She waters her horses from Meles deep in reeds, and swiftly drives her all-golden chariot through Smyrna to vine-clad Claros where Apollo, god of the silver bow, sits waiting for the far-shooting goddess who delights in arrows.
And so hail to you, Artemis, in my song and to all goddesses as well. Of you first I sing and with you I begin…” Homer
Chapter 1
The Gift
Ephesus, (Turkey) Asia Minor
6 September, AD 251
Nuray stood on the shore of Pamucak Beach searching the moon for answers. The ocean breeze stirred her senses. She felt her long, dark, silken hair in a sensual dance with the loose folds of her tunic, leaving her strong, bronzed legs exposed. The waxing crescent moon reflecting in the waters below seemed eternally connected with the naturally curved shape of the shoreline.
It was the sixth of September. Nuray, now twenty, had always spent this day with her father on Pamucak Beach. She had looked forward to this special time alone with him. Mother spent the day at home preparing a special evening feast while her younger brothers and sisters searched for gifts to give to their sister on the anniversary of her birth. This year, she could do no more than reflect upon his memory, the deep love she had for her father and the counsel he would give her.
Nuray understood what was expected of her. Long ago, into the stars in the heavens were carved with fire, the traditions of her people. They were eternal. To break them, would bring shame and misfortune upon Nuray and her family. Yet power and wealth always seemed to over-ride tradition. She now found herself standing at a point of passage, where all roads would lead to shame and misfortune.
Nuray’s father had been a craftsman. With his death, his family was now destitute; his daughters, poor and without a dowry would by tradition, never marry. Nuray’s brothers, although very young, were expected to take over their father’s responsibility of providing for the family. Therefore, Nuray’s mother had no choice but to agree to the generous offer made by Hakan and his family. It was there only means for survival.
Hakan was of noble birth, his family among the wealthiest in Turkey. He was strong and large for a Turk. He was also strikingly handsome. But like the meaning of his name, he possessed a fiery personality that frightened Nuray. He was nothing like her father, the kind and gentle man that she had loved and worshipped as a child and learned to respect and admire as an adult.
Hakan had been obsessed with Nuray since their youth when he would watch her play near the Temple of Artemis where her father sold his goods. Because she was a peasant, Hakan knew that it could never be arranged for him to marry her. With her father’s death, he realized that Nuray’s mother could not refuse his offer. In exchange for Nuray’s hand, the family would be more than adequately provided for.
“Always remember Nuray,” her father said, “if you ever need anything, pray to the goddess Artemis. Like you my beloved child, she was born on the sixth. Your name Nuray, “white moon”, was given to you that you might always remember her and the blessings that I as a father gave to you on the day of your birth. Like the virgin goddess Artemis, I pray always that you will be pure, strong and independent, powerful and swift in the face of danger.”
“I will remember Father,” she said as she caressed the crescent hunter’s bow that he had crafted for her that summer. Tears filled her eyes as she recalled the words of her mother earlier that day: “Your father made this for you, Nuray. He wanted to surprise you with it on your birthday.” Together they embraced and wept for their loss.
Now as Nuray reflected upon her marriage to Hakan, it seemed so contrary to her father’s desires for her and the blessing he gave her at birth. How could she be submissive and weak when she had always been counseled to be independent and strong? How could she marry a man that caused her to fear and tremble when she looked into his eyes?
As she pressed the bow tightly to her breast, she became aware of her heart’s rapid pace. “I will, I will,” it seemed to repeat. A sense of power surged through her body. Looking down at the bow, she recalled that her mother explained that her father only had time to carve one arrow before his death. “He wanted to teach you how to use the arrow, Nuray,” her mother said, whipping the tears from her cheeks. “He wanted you to teach you to be a huntress.”
Nuray knew she had no skills, no experience. Yet, the desire to do what she felt must be done, overpowered her. It was her only way out. In her hour of desperation, with tears streaming down her cheeks, Nuray looked up at the crescent moon and prayed to the goddess Artemis.
“Oh goddess Artemis of Ephesus, I pray that my words will soar the heavens in search for your ears. I plead for your strength to assist me. A solitary arrow have I to do my deed. I have no training, nor strength to draw upon but yours. In the name of my deceased father, I beg you. Strong make my legs, swift make my arrow, that it may quickly pierce the heart of my enemy and free me and my family from this bondage.”
In spite of her tears, Nuray gathered strength from her father’s counsel and continued her plea:
“And may your maidens of the forest watch over and care for my dear, beloved family.”
And so hail to you, Artemis, in my song and to all goddesses as well. Of you first I sing and with you I begin…” Homer
Chapter 1
The Gift
Ephesus, (Turkey) Asia Minor
6 September, AD 251
Nuray stood on the shore of Pamucak Beach searching the moon for answers. The ocean breeze stirred her senses. She felt her long, dark, silken hair in a sensual dance with the loose folds of her tunic, leaving her strong, bronzed legs exposed. The waxing crescent moon reflecting in the waters below seemed eternally connected with the naturally curved shape of the shoreline.
It was the sixth of September. Nuray, now twenty, had always spent this day with her father on Pamucak Beach. She had looked forward to this special time alone with him. Mother spent the day at home preparing a special evening feast while her younger brothers and sisters searched for gifts to give to their sister on the anniversary of her birth. This year, she could do no more than reflect upon his memory, the deep love she had for her father and the counsel he would give her.
Nuray understood what was expected of her. Long ago, into the stars in the heavens were carved with fire, the traditions of her people. They were eternal. To break them, would bring shame and misfortune upon Nuray and her family. Yet power and wealth always seemed to over-ride tradition. She now found herself standing at a point of passage, where all roads would lead to shame and misfortune.
Nuray’s father had been a craftsman. With his death, his family was now destitute; his daughters, poor and without a dowry would by tradition, never marry. Nuray’s brothers, although very young, were expected to take over their father’s responsibility of providing for the family. Therefore, Nuray’s mother had no choice but to agree to the generous offer made by Hakan and his family. It was there only means for survival.
Hakan was of noble birth, his family among the wealthiest in Turkey. He was strong and large for a Turk. He was also strikingly handsome. But like the meaning of his name, he possessed a fiery personality that frightened Nuray. He was nothing like her father, the kind and gentle man that she had loved and worshipped as a child and learned to respect and admire as an adult.
Hakan had been obsessed with Nuray since their youth when he would watch her play near the Temple of Artemis where her father sold his goods. Because she was a peasant, Hakan knew that it could never be arranged for him to marry her. With her father’s death, he realized that Nuray’s mother could not refuse his offer. In exchange for Nuray’s hand, the family would be more than adequately provided for.
“Always remember Nuray,” her father said, “if you ever need anything, pray to the goddess Artemis. Like you my beloved child, she was born on the sixth. Your name Nuray, “white moon”, was given to you that you might always remember her and the blessings that I as a father gave to you on the day of your birth. Like the virgin goddess Artemis, I pray always that you will be pure, strong and independent, powerful and swift in the face of danger.”
“I will remember Father,” she said as she caressed the crescent hunter’s bow that he had crafted for her that summer. Tears filled her eyes as she recalled the words of her mother earlier that day: “Your father made this for you, Nuray. He wanted to surprise you with it on your birthday.” Together they embraced and wept for their loss.
Now as Nuray reflected upon her marriage to Hakan, it seemed so contrary to her father’s desires for her and the blessing he gave her at birth. How could she be submissive and weak when she had always been counseled to be independent and strong? How could she marry a man that caused her to fear and tremble when she looked into his eyes?
As she pressed the bow tightly to her breast, she became aware of her heart’s rapid pace. “I will, I will,” it seemed to repeat. A sense of power surged through her body. Looking down at the bow, she recalled that her mother explained that her father only had time to carve one arrow before his death. “He wanted to teach you how to use the arrow, Nuray,” her mother said, whipping the tears from her cheeks. “He wanted you to teach you to be a huntress.”
Nuray knew she had no skills, no experience. Yet, the desire to do what she felt must be done, overpowered her. It was her only way out. In her hour of desperation, with tears streaming down her cheeks, Nuray looked up at the crescent moon and prayed to the goddess Artemis.
“Oh goddess Artemis of Ephesus, I pray that my words will soar the heavens in search for your ears. I plead for your strength to assist me. A solitary arrow have I to do my deed. I have no training, nor strength to draw upon but yours. In the name of my deceased father, I beg you. Strong make my legs, swift make my arrow, that it may quickly pierce the heart of my enemy and free me and my family from this bondage.”
In spite of her tears, Nuray gathered strength from her father’s counsel and continued her plea:
“And may your maidens of the forest watch over and care for my dear, beloved family.”
Thursday, February 07, 2008
