ancient Greece

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Guest Post: Discovering The Queen of Warriors with author, Zenobia Neil

We’ve got something special for you this week on Writing the Past!

Eagles and Dragons Publishing is thrilled to welcome back historical fiction author, Zenobia Neil, to talk about her latest epic, The Queen of Warriors.

Some of you may remember Zenobia from her previous post here, ‘Love is a Monster’, about the Cupid and Psyche myth and her novel, Psyche Unbound. If you missed that, you can check it out HERE.

In her newest novel, Zenobia takes us into the Hellenistic world for an amazing, epic journey. We’ve read this book, and it’s fantastic.

So, without further ado, let Zenobia take you into the world of The Queen of Warriors.

Discovering The Queen of Warriors

When I started writing The Queen of Warriors over seven years ago, my characters, a Xena: Warrior Princess type Greek warrior woman and a royal Persian rebel, came to me fully formed. However, I had no idea where and when the story took place. In the beginning, I was content with a kind of Xena fanfiction (without knowing what fanfiction was.) I began writing the story in a pseudo Greco-Roman world. That was fun, but I wanted to write real historical fiction. After re-reading Mary Renault’s The Persian Boy (a novel about Alexander the Great told by his eunuch Persian lover, Bagoas) I decided to set my story in the war-torn remains of Alexander the Great’s Empire.

My first serious research for this book yielded a lot of information about Alexander the Great’s life. I read about the Diadochi, the war of his generals. An early timeline I looked at made it seem that the important events that occurred were the conquests of Alexander, the death of Alexander, the War of Succession and then centuries later, Rome. (Sorry, Parthian Empire.) I wondered what life was like for people living in the former empire of Alexander. Ancient history might be recorded in centuries, but people live in decades, in years and days.

What was this period after the death of Alexander like? Alexander’s generals Lysimachus, Cassander, Ptolemy, and Seleucus divided his empire and fought with each other, while struggling to maintain their claims to rule at all. What would this have been like for Persians and Egyptians at this time? Ptolemy was able to condense his power in Egypt, a fairly easy transition compared to the other generals. His line lasted for generations and ended with Cleopatra. But Seleucus attempted to keep the lands Alexander had conquered in Persia—a vast expanse of diverse countries.

Before Alexander came, the Persian Empire created a vast network of satrapies—local governors who ruled over each local kingdom and sent taxes and intel back to the king. The Persian Empire had provided infrastructure. Alexander the Great had largely continued this practice, and he had brought some perks as well. Those who were his friends prospered; those who fought against him risked being killed, enslaved, or crucified.

But what did Seleucus have to offer? Why would any Persian, Mede, Bactrian, or Babylonian bow to him? Who would fight for him and why? These are the questions I wondered while trying to decide where in the former Persian empire my story would take place.

I had a National Geographic map that showed Alexander’s route, which I stared at every day. I tried to imagine where in this great expanse my story could take place. Eventually, it became clear that the story was set in Rhagae, a city near the Caspian Sea in what is now Tehran. I could clearly picture this fortress, the crenelated walls set against the backdrop of the snowy Elburz Mountains. Even before I knew his name, I knew my character Artaxerxes’s personality. As a Persian royal, he had grown up rich. He had golden armbands decorated with lynxes with ruby eyes. He had also learned to ride and shoot a bow as a child. He had trained for war since childhood, and he held truth and integrity above all else.

Writing the character of Alexandra of Sparta was a bit more of a challenge. Although originally inspired by Xena, Alexandra had her own demons, ones that would not be acceptable for daytime TV.

Zenobia with the statue of Leonidas in Sparta

I needed to know Alexandra’s history and how she became a warrior. When I started brushing up on my ancient Greek history, the most recorded information came from Athens. It seemed impossible for an Athenian woman to learn to fight. I couldn’t help but be intrigued by the idea of Sparta, especially in juxtaposition with Persia. The classical age of Sparta was around 500 BCE. This made me wonder the same thing I did about Alexander’s empire after his death—what happened after?

There’s a tendency to think of Sparta as frozen in time, in the height of her power, with Leonidas as one of her two kings and every Spartan citizen a muscular warrior (Thanks, 300!). But that was just one period of time. History is many things, but it is always dynamic. We remember the highlights, but that doesn’t make up the time period of people’s everyday lives.

So what happened to Sparta? After the battle of Leuctra in 371 BCE, they lost their slave population, and with it their power. When he came to power, Alexander the Great forced them to join the League of Corinth. Later, some Spartans, like other Greeks, were offered land in Alexander’s former empire to help the Hellenistic culture continue. This, was how my main character, Alexandra and her friend Nicandor, the Little Red Fox came from Sparta to Asia Minor.

Sparta continued as a polis, though she lost her status as a major fighting force. Decades later when Sparta, like all of Greece and much of the ancient world was a part of the Roman Empire, Sparta became a tourist destination. Wealthy Romans came to watch a famous coming of age ceremony where boys were whipped at the temple of Artemis Orthia. What had once been a real rite of passage became a symbol of entertainment, and Sparta herself became a symbol of a classical strength that had once existed and then become nothing more than an idea of bravery and power.

The world of Sparta

This idea of Spartan hype stayed with me. Even if Sparta didn’t have the power it once did, being a Spartan carried weight and expectations. In The Queen of Warriors, Nicandor, The Little Red Fox, is Alexandra’s general, strategist, and advisor. He helps influence her power by spreading conflicting rumors that she’s an Amazon, a Spartan warrior, the Terror of the East. Being a woman warrior, a woman leader, she knows if she’s ever captured, terrible things will be done to her for daring to venture into a man’s world. So Nicandor makes her into a monster, too cruel to be crossed.

Once I figured out the time and place, I was able to let my characters really come through. I knew Alexandra of Sparta was a cursed warrior woman who wanted to atone for her crimes—I did not initially know what her crimes were—but it’s not hard to imagine a mercenary leader who hasn’t done terrible things. Using the Spartan angle, her advisor the Little Red Fox spreads rumors that she’s ripped out men’s tongues—when he actually finds people who’ve already lost their tongues.

There are no recorded documents of Spartan women warriors, only of the Spartans teaching girls as well as boys. Like any good ancient Greek education, this included physical activities. Unlike Athenian women, Spartan women knew how to manage their lands as well as households since Spartan men were often away. In certain situations, Spartan women could own land.

There have always been women warriors. Queen Tomyris of the Massaegetae, Artemisia I of Caria who fought for Xerxes, and Alexander the Great’s half-sister Cynane grew up in Illyria and was a warrior herself. And there have always been women who entered and competed in roles that were traditionally reserved for men. Readers of Adam Alexander Haviaras’s Heart of Fire will remember Kyniska, the Spartan princess who made Olympic history by winning a chariot race.

We’ve heard stories of women warriors from history, but there are also countless lives that were never recorded or whose positions were changed from leader to wife or concubine, or those whose histories were completely erased.

Alexandra of Sparta is not based on a real known person in history, but that doesn’t mean that someone like her never existed. In addition to learning about the past, imagining what could have been is one of my favorite aspects of writing historical fiction. More and more discoveries are being made showing how women were involved in roles that were traditionally thought of belonging solely to men. I’m delighted my characters came to me and demanded their story be told.

We’d like to thank Zenobia for a fascinating look at the history of this period and for sharing the inspiration behind The Queen of Warriors with us.

If you have any questions for her, please post them in the comments below.

We highly recommend this book, so if you would like to learn more and get a copy, just CLICK HERE.

Be sure to visit Zenobia’s website, and watch the book trailer at the bottom of this post as well.

Thank you, Zenobia!

Historical Fiction Author, Zenobia Neil

Zenobia Neil was named after an ancient warrior queen who fought against the Romans. She writes about the mythic past and Greek and Roman gods having too much fun. The Queen of Warriors is her third book. Visit her at ZenobiaNeil.com

Praise for The Queen of Warriors

“The Queen of Warriors is a full-blooded adventure into the ancient and mythological world of the warrior queen, Alexandra of Sparta.  Imaginative, exciting, and alluring!” – Margaret George, author of Helen of Troy

“A sizzling epic that will tempt you into the Hellenistic age. Neil’s writing is smooth, and anyone would be hard-pressed not to fall in love with her kick-ass heroine, Alexandra of Sparta!” – Adam Alexander Haviaras, Eagles and Dragons Publishing

“Bold, unexpected, and immensely satisfying. The Queen of Warriors is a game changer.”  – Jessica Cale, editor of Dirty, Sexy History

“A surprising tale of retribution but also of redemption. Sexy yet thoughtful . . . unexpectedly moving.”  – L.J. Trafford, author of The Four Emperor Series

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Agora – A Visit to the Heart of Ancient Athens

Greetings readers and history-lovers!

It’s been a brilliant summer, but after some time off, new adventures, and a lot more writing, we’re back on with the blog.

It’s going to be a busy fall this year with some very exciting announcements coming up soon, so if you are not a mailing list subscriber, you should sign-up now so you don’t miss anything.

If you were following along on the Instagram feed, you’ll know that I was in Greece visiting with family for about five scorching weeks.

Normally, when we go back to Greece, we visit many archaeological sites, but this time, it was more about family and refilling the creative well. Besides, the days were so hot that it was bordering on dangerous. I can still feel the burning, crisping sensation on my arms!

Pegasus constellation as seen through ‘Star Walk’ app

It was wonderful to hear and see that symphony of Greek summer – the gentle lap of water on pebbled beaches, brilliant sunrises that roused the chorus of cicadas, wine-filled sunsets watching the chariot of the sun disappear into the West, and night skies filled with legendary constellations – every day it was different and awe-inspiring.

I especially enjoyed the sweet scent of pine and wild thyme in the heat of day as I stared out the sky and sea, a world in myriad shades of blue…

But the historian in me would think it blasphemous to be in Greece and not visit at least one archaeological site. And so, after my seaside idyll in the Argolid peninsula, during my last couple of days in Athens, I made my way to the heart of the city to a site I had not visited in some years – the ancient agora of Athens.

Before I tell you what it felt like to return to this ancient place, here is a bit of history for those of you who are not familiar with it.

The agora has been the beating heart of ancient Athens since at least the sixth century B.C. I don’t mean human activity, for that goes march farther back. I mean that the agora has been the social, commercial, entertainment, political and religious heart of Athens since then.

Almost everything of import in Athens’ history happened in and around the agora, including the birth of Democracy.

The Agora of ancient Athens with the Acropolis in the background

The area of the agora is actually known as ‘Thiseio’. Years ago, when I first visited the agora, I asked about this and discovered that this stems from the mistaken belief that the intact temple of Hephaestus overlooking the site was a temple dedicated to Theseus, the legendary king of Athens (yes, Theseus who escaped the labyrinth!).

As part of the Theseus connection, there is a legend (mentioned by Pausanias) that a great battle took place on the site of the agora between the Greeks and invading Amazons who had been angered that Antiope, the sister of Queen Hippolyta and Penthesilea, fell in love with the Athenian king and returned there with him.

Antiope was killed during the battle, but Theseus and the Greeks were victorious nonetheless. As an aside, this tragic tale is depicted in a brilliant novel by Steven Pressfield, Last of the Amazons.

Statue of Theseus at Thisieo metro station in Athens

The ancient agora lies in the shadow of the Acropolis of Athens with the Areopagus (Ares’ Rock), Athens’ oldest court, to the southwest. Fun Fact: the Areopagus is called that because that is where the Gods tried Ares for murder. Murder trials continued to take place there during Athens’ history.

The agora is also flanked by the hill of Kolonos Agoraios, dominated by the temple of Hephaestus to the west, and the reconstructed stoa of Attalos to the east.

The Panathenaic Way, the road that ran from the great Dipylon Gate of Athens to the Acropolis, ran directly through the agora, as did the road to the ancient port of Piraeus.

The archaeological site is packed with ruins. In fact, excavations under the Archaeological Society and the American School of Classical Studies have been ongoing here since 1931.

Map of ancient Agora of Athens

The ancient agora of Athens is a place of many layers, and it’s no wonder, for it was destroyed several times in its history. The Persians destroyed it during their invasion of 480 B.C., and the Romans under Sulla did their dirty work in 86 B.C.

Later, in A.D. 267, the Herulians (a Scythian people from around the Black Sea) sacked Athens, and then the Slavs did the same in A.D. 580, not to mention the damage that was done during the wars of independence and other conflicts.

The stones of the ancient agora had born witness to a lot before being buried beneath the modern neighbourhood of ‘Vrysaki’.

I’m not going to go into every single monument that is visible today in the agora. There arsenal of ancient Athens, various stoas, the altar of Zeus Agoraios, the altar of the twelve gods, the temple of Ares, the Odeion of Agrippa, the library, and the temple of Apollo Patroos are just a few of the ruins you can wander around.

Click here for a 360 view of the Agora

Like many archaeological sites in Greece for me, a visit to the ancient agora of Athens is something more to be felt.

After taking the subway to Monastiraki station in the heart of the flea market and Plaka tourist district, we made our way through the thick and sweaty crowds, along tavernas with misting fans to the entrance on the northern side of the agora.

It seems all the world still comes to the agora of Athens. I counted about nine different languages alone in the line to get in. After a few minutes, we had our tickets and walked through to a spot away from the milling masses of snap-happy tour groups to look up and see the shining beacon of the Acropolis and the creamy white structures of the Erechtheum, Propylaea, and the Parthenon. It always fills me with silent awe to look up at that view, and the Agora is one of the best places to admire it.

View of Acropolis from centre of Agora

To the far left, the Stoa of Attalos, where the museum is located, beckoned with its long shaded colonnades of cool marble, but we would leave that until last. Glancing up to my right, the sentry temple of Hephaestus upon the hill called to me, and so I began to make my way.

Thankfully, trees abound in the agora, so you can take your time and admire all there is to see from frequent pockets of shade brimming with cicada song.

I passed the site of the altar of the twelve gods and the overgrown ruins of the temple of Ares, unnoticed by most tourists, to stand before the imposing ruins of the Roman-build Odeion of Agrippa built in 15 B.C., and destroyed during the later Herulian attack. This spot is at the centre of the agora, and I stood there for a few minutes, gazing out from beneath the imposing statues of Tritons. 

One of the Tritons on the facade of the Roman Odeion of Agrippa

After a time pretending the murmur of tourists was the sound of ancient Athenians, I continued my walk to the altar of Zeus Agoraios, one of my favourite spots in the agora. How many offerings had been made there to the King of the Gods? The altar’s base is quite intact, and it stands in stony silence with the expanse of the agora before it, and the temple of Hephaestus and the ancient arsenal on the hill behind.

After watching most tourist by-pass Zeus’ altar as if it were just another pile of rocks, I turned around and looked up at the temple of Hephaestus, one of the most intact ancient temples I have ever seen.

Looking toward the temple of Hephaestus from the altar of Zeus

The climb up is not long, but in that heat, I passed pockets of visitors resting in the shade of trees on their way up.

I couldn’t wait, however, and pressed on along the narrow, rocky path to the top.

There is something about the design of an ancient temple that appeals to my senses. I don’t know what it is. Perhaps is it is the simple lines that give one a sense of peace and order, or the ancient belief that it was where one communed with that particular god? Maybe there is something to the golden mean that permeates every aspect of those ancient structures?

I don’t know for certain, but when I am in the presence of such a beautiful structure, I fall silent. The fact that that temple is so intact makes it even more powerful.

Looking at the interior of the temple of Hephaestus

I strolled around the perimeter of the temple, admiring the strength of its doric columns. When I reached the back, I stood peering inside, catching a glimpse of the ancient cella at its heart, so dark and quiet, cool in the middle of the inferno outside.

I had been to visit the temple before, years ago, but every time is like a first time in places like that. Our experiences change us between visits over the years. We notice new things, feel differently when we return, even though the sites themselves are frozen in time.

After admiring the temple, it was time to make our way back across the southern end of the agora toward the reconstructed stoa of Attalos. This route takes you back through the heart of the agora, along the length of the ruins of the middle stoa where you can see the rooms from which the ancient city was administered.

If you look up, you can see the Acropolis with even greater clarity, and the masses of tourists wending their way up like a flow of busy ants around a hill.

As I walked, there was much more to see, but the heat was intensifying. Some things would have to wait until the next visit.

The colonnade of the restored Stoa of Attalos

The stoa of Attalos, built in the second century B.C. by that King of Pergamon (159-138 B.C.), was busy with people taking refuge from the shade, talking, resting, shopping in the museum shop, and admiring the remnants of Athens’ great past. You could hear tour guides teaching their groups about this history of Athens, Greek visitors talking politics, and others taking in the view and discussing the next part of their journey in Greece. The scene, apart from the clothing and languages spoken, might not have been that different from two thousand years before.

As for me, I made my way into the small museum that is housed on the ground floor of the stoa. Don’t let the size of this museum fool you. It houses a wonderful collection of artifacts from the full range of Athenian history in the agora from early Bronze Age tombs, through the Geometric period, the Classical period, and into the Hellenistic and Roman ages.

One of my favourite pieces was a three-handled bowl of which I had recently bought a wonderful replica from our friends at the Ceramotechnica Xipolias in ancient Epidaurus. 

Here are a few of the wonderful artifacts that are in the museum of the ancient Agora:

A Spartan hoplon shield in the museum

Bronze spear heads and horse bits

Ostraka with the name of ‘Themistocles’, the great Athenian general, on them

Souvlaki anyone? See this small oven and kebab sticks! People also came to eat in the Agora.

After we were finished in the museum, there was one more surprise left in the stoa. If you go to the north or south end of the stoa you will see stairs leading to the second level.

We snaked our way up the stairs on the north end to find not only a wonderful view of the agora, but also, behind walls of glass, a long row of wooden shelves where myriad artifacts are stored. It was unbelievable to stand on the other side of the glass looking into the shadowed interior to see ancient black and red vases and kraters, kylixes and more. There were Mycenaean artifacts too, and all of it just sitting there silent witnesses to the ages gone past.

Oh, just some ancient pottery tucked away on a shelf.

As we finished in the stoa and museum, we decided it was time to go. We made our way along a wall of broken monuments, displayed like ornaments in the garden of some antiquarian, each one with a story to tell of Athens’ past, each one whispering as I walked by.

I had to pull myself away from those voices, to tell them that I would see them again some day.

The day was wearing on, and there was more to do, more people to see before the end of my summer odyssey. But, I had to stand at the gates of the ancient Agora one more time and look out over the ruins of Athens’ history and up to the hopeful beacon of the Acropolis.

It is never easy to say goodbye to that ancient place, but I did so with a pang before turning and disappearing into the crowded market streets of Monastiraki and the Plaka, a part of me still wandering the Agora, haunted by history.

Finishing things off with some shopping in the Plaka.

I hope you’ve enjoyed this short post on the agora of ancient Athens. If you did, you might also enjoy some previous posts on visits to Delphi, Delos, Tiryns, Epidaurus, Nemea, Eleusis, the temple of Apollo at Bassae, and Olympia.

Be sure to tune in next week as we step into the Hellenistic age with a guest post from historical fiction author Zenobia Neil.

Thank you for reading.

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The Pylos Combat Agate and the Griffin Warrior Tomb

They came to Pylos, Neleus’ strong-founded citadel, where the people on the shore of the sea were making sacrifice of bulls who were all black to the dark-haired Earthshaker. There were nine settlements of them, and in each five hundred holdings, and from each of these nine bulls were provided.(The Odyssey)

Pylos is a name out of time and legend, immortalized by Homer in the Iliad and the Odyssey, as was the name of Nestor, the son of Neleus and Agamemnon’s right-hand man and aged advisor during the war with Troy.

When you look at the archaeology of the Mycenaean Bronze Age in Greece, one inevitably thinks of places such as Mycenae, Tyrins, and yes, Pylos. These sites are well known.

There is, however, a misconception outside of the world of archaeology that everything has already been found.

This is far from the truth. Archaeologists are excavating new finds all the time, sometimes aided by drought and fire, other times by desperately-needed funding to back strong theories or even hunches about locations.

Pylos is no exception.

Mycenaean Warriors

In the world of ancient Greece, one of the most exciting finds in the last few years is that of the Pylos Combat Agate and the discovery of the Griffin Warrior Tomb.

In today’s post, we’re going to take a look at the tomb and the array of magnificent finds that are challenging previous notions of the evolution of ancient Greek art.

First off, what exactly is at the site of Pylos?

View of the megaron in the Palace of Nestor at Pylos, published by Carl Blegen in the AJA in 1956 before the first roof over the palace was built (image copyright held by the Department of Classics at the University of Cincinnati)

Pylos is located in the southwest of the Peloponnesian mainland of Greece. The palace there is the best-preserved Mycenaean palace yet discovered, said to be the power centre of King Nestor, whose ships joined the Greek army sailing for doomed Troy.

The palace of Pylos was located on a hill within the larger settlement that was, it is supposed, surrounded by an outer wall. It was made up of two storeys with various rooms, workshops, baths, reception rooms, and even a sewage system.

Watercolor reconstruction of the Throne room of Nestor’s Palace by artist, Piet de Jong (Image copyright by the Department of Classics at the University of Cincinnati)

Excavations at Pylos occurred in 1912 and 1926 when two tholos tombs were discovered in the area, but it was in 1939 that a proper, joint Greek-American excavation got underway. This was led by famed archaeologist Carl Blegen, from the University of Cincinnati. Blegen’s initial excavations of Pylos revealed walls, frescoes, Mycenaean pottery, and a royal archive of one thousand tablets.

World War II put the dig on hold for a while, but you can’t keep determined archaeologists down! In 1952, the palace was finally uncovered.

I’ve not been to this site personally yet, but it is definitely on my ‘to visit’ list! Here is a virtual tour of the palace at Pylos:

The University of Cincinnati has continued to excavate at Pylos since Blegen first became involved, more recently under the leadership of the archaeological husband-and-wife team of Jack L. Davis and Sharon Stocker who are responsible for the recent and fascinating discovery of what has become known as the ‘Griffin Warrior Tomb’.

What is the Griffin Warrior Tomb?

It is an undisturbed (and un-looted!) shaft tomb dating to about 1450 B.C. (before the Trojan War). It contained the intact remains of a long-haired adult male of thirty-something, of about 5 ½ feet tall, whose wooden coffin was located in the tomb along with over 3500 grave goods.

Sword and Ring from the Tomb (image copyright by the Department of Classics of the University of Cincinnati)

The grave finds included bronze weapons, armour, jewels and jewellery, mirrors, many items of silver and gold, signet rings, ivory combs, boar tusks (perhaps from a helmet), and more. It is interesting and important to note here that some of the goods are decorated with uniquely Minoan motifs.

There was also an ivory plaque between the warrior’s legs with a carved relief of a griffin. Presumably, this is where they came up with the name of this tomb.

Artist recreation of the Griffin Warrior Tomb as excavated (image copyright by the Department of Classics of the University of Cincinnati)

The tomb was located in an olive grove near the palace of Nestor, but within the Bronze Age city of Pylos.

We have no idea who this man was, but it seems likely that he was a warrior who was both rich and important. It is telling that he was buried not with many ceramic goods, which is common for warrior graves from the age, but rather with much gold and silver and finely wrought weapons. It is also thought that he could have been a priest of sorts due to the fact that many of the grave goods are ritual objects.

Grave finds of Griffin Warrior Tomb (image copyright by the Department of Classics of the University of Cincinnati)

Project co-directors Sharon R. Stocker and Jack L. Davis of the University of Cincinnati note:  “The team did not discover the grave of the legendary King Nestor, who headed a contingent in the Greek forces at Troy. Nor did it find the grave of his father, Neleus.  They found something perhaps of even greater importance: the tomb of one of the powerful men who laid foundations for the Mycenaean civilization, the earliest in Europe.”

This is pretty exciting!

More research and analysis of the finds is, of course, already underway. The exciting thing is that it is thought that more will be discovered about the relationship between the Mycenaean mainland and Minoan Crete.

I’m only summarizing things here. There is a lot more to read about this excavation and the finds and I’ll provide some links at the end of the blog.

Before I do, however, I wanted to touch on the one find that has truly captured the imagination of many around the world, especially my own…

The Pylos Combat Agate.

Here it is:

Image of the Pylos Combat Agate (image copyright by the Department of Classics of the University of Cincinnati)

Isn’t it stunning? Of all the wonderful finds in the Griffin Warrior Tomb, this is the one that pulls me in.

What is it?

At this point, it’s thought to be a Minoan seal that was created around c. 1450 B.C.

It’s named for the fierce combat that it portrays, and is now considered the best work of glyptic art (a symbolic figure carved or incised in relief) ever from the Aegean Bronze Age. In fact, such quality, skilled work in this style was not seen until the Classical Age about a thousand years later!

Who made this gem, and what is the scene being portrayed? Now that’s story to consider!

Pylos Combat Agate before restoration (image copyright by the Department of Classics of the University of Cincinnati)

This magnificent artifact is made of agate and is about 3.4 centimeters (1.3 inches) wide. In the Griffin Warrior Tomb, it was found along with four other signet rings with other engravings such as Minoan bulls.

It is believed that this was obtained from Minoan Crete by Mycenaeans, either by import or theft.

Artist Sketch of the Pylos Combat Agate Scene (image copyright by the Department of Classics of the University of Cincinnati)

Science, archaeology, and history aside…how does this scene make you feel?

The scene depicted is of a vicious battle with an unarmoured, long-haired warrior engaged in a brutal combat with a heavily armoured warrior. The former stands upon the body of a man he has already slain.

We don’t know anything else about this artifact, and we probably never will. But the possibilities are thrilling, aren’t they?

That’s one thing I love about archaeology – the potential for stories.

Every one of the artifacts found in the Griffin Warrior Tomb has a story behind it – how it was made and why, by whom? How did the artifacts come to be in the possession of this wealthy warrior and what meaning did they hold for him?

You can go on and on. Truly, there’s an entire book series to be written about this one man!

I was so inspired last year by the discovery of this artifact that I wrote an ‘Inspired by the Past’ short story about it which is available to all Centurion-level supporters on the Eagles and Dragons Publishing Patreon page.

Jonida Martini and Sharon Stocker excavating the upper layer of artifacts immediately after bronze was discovered. (image copyright by the Department of Classics of the University of Cincinnati)

I’ve only scratched the surface of the history and finds related to the Griffin Warrior Tomb at Pylos, but I hope you’ve found it interesting and that it has inspired you to discover more.

To find out more about the archaeological team, the project and finds, I highly recommend visiting the website set up for the project at: http://www.griffinwarrior.org/griffinwarrior-burial.html

You can also watch the interviews on Greek media with the lead archaeologists on the project, Jack L. Davis and Sharon Stocker. Their excitement and enthusiasm for the finds is contagious and inspiring! Check out the video below (and cue the dramatic Greek news show music!)

Thank you for reading!

 

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Inspiration for Writing the Past – An Eagles and Dragons Playlist

Music brings a warm glow to my vision, thawing mind and muscle from their endless wintering.― Haruki Murakami

How does music help you? How does it affect you and your creativity? Has it helped you to overcome obstacles and see the world from a different angle?

The answers to these questions will vary from person to person.

This week on the blog, I want to share something different with you, something related to my own creative process, particularly when it comes to writing historical fiction.

For the entirety of my life to this point, music has played an influential role at every stage. I grew up in a household where music was ever-present and appreciated. Whether it was classical or movie music, opera, folk, rock’n roll, period music or punk rock, music was always there. It was always marking big events in my mind, accompanying me on my journeys, accenting my experiences.

When I sift through my own memories, there is always music to go with them.

Who hears music, feels his solitude, Peopled at once.― Robert Browning

Since the beginning of my writing career in my mid-teens, music has always been a part of my creative process.

I write to music, pure and simple. I have to.

Every writer is different, and among those who do write to music I’m sure there is a vast array of musical types that inspire.

For me, the music of choice for writing has always been movie soundtracks. They’re highly emotive and varied, different tracks suited to different types of scenes.

Music is like a dream. One that I cannot hear.―  Ludwig van Beethoven

I can’t just write to any type of movie soundtrack, however. You won’t find me listening to Star Wars, Indiana Jones or The Lord of the Rings soundtracks while writing. The images of those films are burned onto my memory and I know the exact part of the movie where every note is played. That would unduly affect my own storytelling.

But there are countless movie soundtracks that, to me, evoke something of the ancient world, are a bit more exotic, and have the power to transport me out of the modern world and into the past.

For each writing project, I create a separate playlist which I will listen to when doing research, riding on the subway to work, driving in my car, or when I’m out for a walk. The music is there at all times when I’m thinking about my work-in-progress.

Today I want to share with you the most prominent soundtracks on my playlist for the book I’m currently writing, Isle of the Blessed (Eagles and Dragons Book IV).

Some of these might be familiar to you, others not, but I hope you will enjoy all of them. Where available, I’ve embedded samples from some of the soundtracks (the samples are often uploaded by individual fans and not the composers, hence the pictures).

*There are a lot of embedded audio files below, so when you first load the page, you will probably need to click ‘refresh’ once on your web browser so that the SoundCl0ud players show up.

(A quick note here in the interests of transparency that the Amazon and iTunes links are affiliate links – this means Eagles and Dragons Publishing will get a small portion of the proceeds if you purchase it)

I hope you enjoy this musical peek into the creative process behind a book I know many of you are waiting for…

Fans of ancient Greece among you will be familiar with the 300 movies, and the soundtrack from the first film has some powerful, really driving tracks. But there are also some wonderfully solemn tracks that make me feel as if I am standing in the shadow of Mt. Taygetus outside of Sparta itself. This soundtrack has been with me on a couple books, from battles to quiet moments with Lucius Metellus himself. The track that particularly stands out to me is ‘Message for the Queen’. (Please forgive the picture this person uploaded – it has nothing to do with the movie!)

(Amazon and iTunes)

It goes without saying that as the Eagles and Dragons series is set in the Roman Empire, that some of the soundtracks should be from movies set there as well. I thought Pompeii was a decent film but it is not one that I watch over and over again, so it was easy for me to separate the images of the film from the music. This movie has some great street scenes in it that really do evoke the hustle and bustle of Pompeii. The track I like for that, is aptly named ‘Streets of Pompeii’.

(Amazon and iTunes)

This is the only non-period movie on the playlist. Hans Zimmer, who is one of the great film composers of our time, really created a fantastic soundtrack with Black Hawk Down. I’ve used this in the past for all previous Eagles and Dragons novels, especially as it evokes the desert and the East for me. However, the track I love most is the very moving ‘Leave No Man Behind’. When writing about soldiers and brotherhood, whether in the ancient world or the present, this track makes you feel.

(Amazon and iTunes)

If you haven’t seen the film Centurion, then you will definitely want to check it out. It’s showing on Netflix at the moment if you’re interested. Obviously this movie takes place during the Roman Empire and Ilan Eshkeri’s soundtrack is a fabulous journey of intensity and despair. One track that I sometimes play on repeat because of its sublime intimacy and ‘moment of calm’ aspect, is the track called ‘Necromancer’. Have a listen. It’s beautiful.

(Amazon and iTunes)

We’re back to the 300 movies, this time with the second one entitled 300: Rise of an Empire, music composed by Junkie XL.

This soundtrack has been one of the most influential on my writing of late, and in addition to inspiring the battle scenes in Warriors of Epona (Eagles and Dragons Book III), and scenes in Isle of the Blessed, it was also a huge inspiration for me when writing the climactic scene for Heart of Fire: A Novel of the Ancient Olympics. The track ‘History of the Greeks’ gives me chills every time. Every track has something to offer here, so you won’t want to miss this one. Here is a sample of several tracks from the album.

(Amazon and iTunes)

One movie that I don’t think got the recognition it deserved is Dracula Untold, and the music for this is no different. Ramin Djawadi, most famous for his soundtracks for the Game of Thrones series, created a fantastic soundtrack for Dracula with glorious highs and lows. One of my favourite tracks on this one is ‘Mirena’. If you like Dracula films with history thrown in, you have to check this out.

(Amazon and iTunes)

Those of you who have known me for a while will know that I’m a big fan of all things Arthurian. When I first saw the BBC series Merlin, I was a bit sceptical at first, but after a few episodes, I was hooked. The series is dramatic, funny, tragic and uplifting and the music and themes created by Rob Lane and Rohan Stevenson are no different. As Isle of the Blessed takes place in Britannia, the music fits nicely with the mystery of the setting. The track ‘Gwen and Arthur’ is a particularly moving one.

(Amazon and iTunes)

Speaking of Ramin Djawadi, it was inevitable that at least one of the Game of Thrones soundtracks should be on my playlist. Actually, the music for both season one and two are on the list. I’m not a super fan of the television series, though I do enjoy it. I am, however, a super fan of the music. The vast array of themes for different characters and settings, countries and more that Ramin Djawadi has created is truly mind-blowing. There’s something for everyone and every situation in the music for Game of Thrones. I am hard-pressed to pick just one track but I have to say that I am post partial to the ‘Winterfell’ theme.

(Amazon and iTunes)

One movie that got absolutely panned at the cinema was Immortals, the movie about Theseus. Now, I have to admit that I actually like this movie quite a bit. Granted, it’s more of a big-time fantasy movie that a serious take on mythology, but that’s ok. These tales are meant to be reinvented. That’s why they’ve lasted so long! Trevor Morris is a composer whose work I’ve enjoyed for a few years and his soundtrack to Immortals is one of my favourites. It just transports me to another time and place and makes me feel like the gods are standing right there with me. The track ‘Do Not Forsake Mankind’ is the track to listen to on this, though they are all pretty fantastic.

(Amazon and iTunes)

Composer Joseph LoDuca is no stranger to television soundtracks, having written the music for the Hercules: The Legendary Journeys and Xena: Warrior Princess shows back in the nineties. He’s been a favourite in our family as my own mother, a former opera singer, performed on the Xena Season Four soundtrack. Joseph LoDuca’s music is fantastically exotic, quirky and emotional. More recently, he composed the music for the television series, Spartacus: Blood and Sand.

Spartacus was a fantastic and gritty series and LoDuca’s music fit the bill perfectly. You really do feel like you are in ancient Rome, on the sands of the amphitheatre, or in the characters’ private dwellings. Check out the soundtrack for the first season, in particular for me, the track ‘No Life Without You’.

(Amazon and iTunes)

A more recent history-themed show is Vikings. This epic series has found quite a bit of success, and the atmosphere that the film makers have created is only enhanced by the music of Trevor Morris. I’ve only delved into the first season’s soundtrack for this series, but it is a wonderfully sprawling and mysterious soundscape. There are so many tracks to choose from, but at the moment, one of my favourites is ‘Ragnar Takes the Throne’.

(Amazon and iTunes)

One of my more recent soundtrack acquisitions is from the Arthurian-themed movie Tristan and Isolde. This is quite simply, a beautiful tragic tale that does this story of doomed-love utmost justice. Composer Anne Dudley has such a knack for inserting gut-wrenching feeling into the most intimate, quiet scenes. This soundtrack has been a big inspiration for Isle of the Blessed. You need to listen to this one right now. I’m especially enjoying the track ‘None Can Die’.

(Amazon – but not available on iTunes)

And finally…

I would be utterly remiss without mentioning the soundtrack that has been with me almost from the beginning of the Eagles and Dragons series – Gladiator.

This is the soundtrack that brought the names of Hans Zimmer and Lisa Gerrard (of Dead Can Dance fame) to the fore, and for good reason. Whenever I write about the grandeur of the Roman Empire, the frontiers of Numidia or Africa Proconsularis, or even Severus’ war in Caledonia, the music from Gladiator is churning in my brain.

I know this movie well, having watched it so many times, so it is strange to me that the images from the film do not intrude on my own conjurings. Hans Zimmer and Lisa Gerrard’s music has succeeded even in transcending director Ridley Scott’s vision and Russell Crowe’s outstanding performance.

I suspect that this soundtrack will be with me for many more books. All the tracks are good, but if you want to hear one of the more haunting ones, listen to ‘The Wheat’.

(Amazon and iTunes)

Music, when soft voices die, vibrates in the memory.― Percy Bysshe Shelley

I hope you’ve enjoyed this peek at the creative process and the wonderful music that is accompanying me on this very personal journey writing Isle of the Blessed.

Like the music, there are highs and lows, moments of inspiration, and times of despair, and that’s the beauty of the creative process, that we get to feel the full range of human emotion. With hope, I can impart the full measure of that to all of you, just as these wonderful composers have done for me.

Thank you for reading.

A man should hear a little music, read a little poetry, and see a fine picture every day of his life, in order that worldly cares may not obliterate the sense of the beautiful which God has implanted in the human soul.― Johann Wolfgang von Goethe

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Delphi – Walking Sacred Ground

Happy New Year everyone!

Welcome to a new year for Writing the Past and Eagles and Dragons Publishing. We’re so glad you’re here to share in our love of history, archaeology, myth and legend.

In many posts on this blog I have mentioned some of the great sanctuaries of antiquity such as Delos, Olympia and Nemea. I have touched on the special feeling one gets when walking around these places, the sense of peace that washes over you.

Today, we’ll be taking a short tour of one of the most important sanctuaries of the ancient world: Delphi.

Delphi was of course the location of the great sanctuary of Apollo whose priestess, the Pythia, was visited by people from all over the world who came to seek the god’s advice and wisdom.

I have been fortunate enough to visit Delphi a couple of times, and I do hope to return there someday soon. The first time I was there, the mountain rumbled throughout the night. Unused to earthquakes, my brother woke me to say that he thought there was a ghost in the room because his bed (he had the smaller one) was jumping up and down. Looking back, it’s funny that ghosts were a more logical explanation for us. Too many movies, I suppose.

Ruins of the Temple of Apollo at Delphi

But, despite frequent earthquakes, Delphi is indeed a place of ghosts. They are everywhere, the voices of the past, of the devoted, great and small.

There is something about Delphi that draws you in, that makes you want to go back again and again. Despite the throngs of picture-snapping tourists along the Sacred Way, or the hum of multi-lingual tour guides wherever you step, the sense of peace at Delphi is unmistakable.

For those with the ability to see and hear beyond the bustle, it is as though a smoky veil rises from the ground to block out the noise, leaving you with the mountain, the ruins, the voices of history.

Delphi is located in central Greece in the ancient region of Phokis. Perched on the slopes of Mount Parnassos in a spot one can well imagine gods roaming, it possesses a view of a valley covered in ancient, gnarled olive groves spilling toward the blueness of the Gulf of Corinth.

Though the site is always associated with him, Apollo did not always rule here.

Kylix from Delphi showing Apollo pouring a libation

Long before the Olympian god arrived, Delphi was the site of a prehistoric sanctuary of Gaia, the Mother Goddess and consort of Uranus.

It was after Apollo, urged on by his mother Leto, defeated the great python in the sanctuary of Gaia that Delphi came under his protection.

Apollo slaying the Python

A new era had dawned and after Apollo’s slaying of the Python, barbarism and savage custom were discarded. In place of the old religion came a quest for harmony, a balancing of opposites. Apollo was worshiped as a god of light, harmony, order and of prophecy. His oracles communicated his will and words.

If one approaches Delphi from the East and the town of Arachova, the first thing you pass is another important sanctuary, that of Athena Pronaia. ‘Pronaia’ means ‘before the temple’. This sanctuary would likely have been visited by pilgrims first.

Tholos in the Sanctuary of Athena Pronaia at Delphi

The sanctuary of Athena is farther down the mountainside from that of Apollo and located in a quiet olive grove. In its time, it contained two temples dedicated to Athena, the earliest dating to 500 B.C. There were also two treasuries, altars, and of course, one of the most picturesque ruins of ancient Greece, the round tholos temple. The latter is 13.5 meters wide and had twenty Doric columns with metopes portraying the Battle of the Amazons and the Battle of the Centaurs, the remains of which can be seen in the Delphi museum. The exact use of the tholos is uncertain though many believe it was consecrated to the cult of deities other than Apollo or Athena.

Between the two sanctuaries is the sacred spring of Kastalia, the water of which was intimately associated with the oracle. Water from here was carried to the sanctuary of Apollo and it was also here that priests and pilgrims cleansed themselves before entering god’s domain.

As part of her ritual too, the Pythia bathed in the Kastalian spring before entering the Temple of Apollo.

The peaceful sanctuary of Athena Pronaia

When the Pythia was prophesying, Delphi must have been bustling, for she was not always there. In fact, in its early days, the oracle performed her function once a year on the 7th day of the ancient month of Bysios (February-March) which was considered Apollo’s birthday. Later, the Pythia prophesied once a month, apart from the three winter months when Apollo was said to spend time in the land of Hyperborea far to the north.

I won’t describe all the remains of the sanctuary of Apollo in detail here. There is far too much to cover and it is all fascinating. I will say that it is one of those places that every lover of history must visit.

When I think of history, the study of it, this place is what it’s all about.

On your way through the sanctuary you pass many remains, one of the most interesting being the Athenian treasury which held many rich votive offerings from the ancient polis. It is well preserved and some of the most interesting things are the inscriptions of the Hymns to Apollo and carvings of laurel leaves upon its walls.

The Sybil’s Rock

On the left, once you leave the Athenian treasury, there are two large boulders. They look to be nothing more than rocks but these were of utmost sanctity thousands of years ago. The smaller of the two is called Leto’s Rock because it is believed that that is where Apollo’s mother stood when she urged him to slay the python. The larger rock is called the Sibyl’s Rock as that is where the first oracle (‘Sibyl’ is another name for Apollo’s oracles) stood when she came to Delphi and gave her first prophecy.

Ruins of the theatre that overlooks the Temple of Apollo

Each time I walk the marble of the Sacred Way up to the Temple of Apollo, the theatre and the stadium beyond, I am in awe. The sun seems more brilliant here, the colours richer. The buzzing of cicadas in the pine and olive trees are sounds ancient pilgrims would have been familiar with. It would have been crowded during the time of prophecy, and the line must have wended its way down the mountain to Kastalia and the sanctuary of Athena.

Every part of the sanctuary would have been adorned with bronze and marble statues, tripods, altars and other offerings from around the world. The smoke of incense and sacrifice would have weaved among it all to please Apollo and other deities who also had altars about the temple, such as Zeus, Poseidon, and Hestia, whose immortal flame was never extinguished.

The Temple of Apollo

The Temple of Apollo itself occupies a magnificent position and though not much remains, it is still a place of awe due in large part to the surroundings. The layout is not known exactly due to damage over time, but archaeologists have discovered that there were two cellae (temple chambers), an outer one where priests and pilgrims remained, and an inner one.

The inner cella is believed to have been the subterranean chamber where only the Pythia herself was permitted. This chamber was where she prophesied. It contained another sacred spring, the Kassiotis spring, from which she drank, a crack in the earth from which fumes emanated, the oracular tripod in which she sat, and the sacred omphalos, or, ‘navel of the earth’.

Details of the temple’s foundations

The Pythia would chew laurel leaves, inhale the fumes from the earth, and go into her trance. She would deliver her prophecy in riddles which were delivered to pilgrims.

To a modern mind, the ancients might seem absurdly superstitious, naïve even. But, in the ancient world the respect and awe with which the oracle of Delphi was viewed cannot be overestimated.

The truth of the oracle was never doubted for matters great or small. Cities, peoples, peasants and kings all sought the wisdom and guidance of Apollo through the oracle.

Apollo and the Pythia who uttered his prophecies to mortals

When I reach the top of the site and look out over the sanctuary to the valley and sea beyond, I feel that I do not want to leave. From the top of the third century B.C. theatre, or in the quiet of the stadium that once held 7000 spectators for the Pythian games, I reflect on my own journey, and on the myriad journeys of those who have come here before over the millennia.

The Stadium farther up the mountain from the sanctuary was the site of the Pythian Games and seated up to 7000 spectators

As a writer, I find people fascinating. What brought each of them to this place? What questions might they have asked? How did they receive the answers given by the oracle? I touch on this through my characters in Killing the Hydra.

Delphi was not just the site of some quaint, ancient, superstitious practices as some might see them today. This was a place of power, of beauty, refinement and of hope. In some ways, it still is.

The Pythia is gone, the sacred games long-since banished by the Christian Emperor Theodosius I. The temple and the treasures of the sanctuary have been looted, and what is left lies in romantic ruin, or on display in the museum.

However, if your path ever leads you to this ancient place on the slopes of Mount Parnassos, you may just hear the pilgrims’ prayers to the gods, the melodic utterings of the ancient hymns, and the hushed voice of the Pythia, beyond the veil of this world, as she passes Apollo’s words on to generations of mortals seeking his wisdom.

Thank you for reading…

 

Have you ever visited Delphi? If so, tell us what your impressions were in the comments section below.

Ramp leading up to the Temple of Apollo

 

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The Warrior’s Homecoming

Today is Remembrance Day.

On November 11th, at the eleventh hour, I’ll be at my local cenotaph, standing alongside my fellow civilians, veterans and emergency services crews to honour and remember those have served, and those who have fallen in the line of duty.

I suspect that most of us have a connection to someone who has served in one of the many conflicts across the world since WWI and WWII to the present day. Or perhaps you know someone who battles to save lives on the streets of our cities?

For myself, one of my grandfathers served in both World Wars, and my other grandfather in WWII.

This is a time of year when I think of them more than usual.

The Normandy Landing – WWII

I write a lot about warriors in the ancient world, and the struggles they face on and off the battlefield.

My protagonists have fought long, bloody campaigns, far away from the comforts of civilization.

They’ve faced enemies that will not come out into the open, and sometimes must rely on supposed allies that they cannot trust.

For the warriors in my books, life is a constant fight for survival. They fight and kill and die for Rome, all for the purposes of advancing the Empire’s plans for conquest.

Artist impression of Roman cavalry ala engaging Caledonians

Indeed, one of the themes running through all my books is that of the powerful few sending many to die on the battlefields of the Empire. The soldiers are at the whim of those roaming and ruling the corridors of power.

Sound familiar?

My, how history does repeat itself.

Always at the back of my protagonist’s mind is the family that he misses. But if he thinks on them too much, if he loses his focus at any time, his enemies will tear him apart.

The warrior’s life has never been an easy one, especially when you have something to lose.

Mother and son reunited

But what happens when it’s time for the warrior to ‘come home’?

How is it even possible after the life they’ve led? Can they really ‘come home’?

How have warriors, men and women, dealt with the aftermath of war?

In his book The Warrior Ethos, Steven Pressfield asks a pertinent question:

All of us know brothers and sisters who have fought with incredible courage on the battlefield, only to fall apart when they came home. Why? Is it easier to be a soldier than to be a civilian?

In one way, perhaps life at war is more straightforward. Every day, every moment perhaps, your thoughts, your purpose, are focussed on the objective – take that position, hold that region, protect your brothers and sisters in arms, stay alive. In some situations, it’s kill or be killed.

We’re back to primal instincts here.

Stepping from the world of war into the civilian world is an unimaginable transition.

Today, we have any number of soldier’s aid societies and government programs and guides that are intended to help veterans of wars reintegrate into society.

These groups do good work that is much-needed, but is it enough? How can non-combatants in civilian society understand the physical and emotional trauma that is experienced by warriors after the battle?

In the ancient and medieval worlds, there were no societies or organizations whose purpose was to help returning warriors.

British Troops in WWI

Granted, in warrior societies such as Sparta, the majority of warriors probably enjoyed the fighting. All Spartan men were warriors. That was their purpose.

But in the Roman Empire, returning warriors would have had to reintegrate in a way similar to today, rather than ancient Sparta. Later Roman society valued not just fighting prowess, but also political acuity, the arts, rhetoric, skill at a trade, generally being a good citizen in society.

Many veterans are homeless when they come home…

Going back to peace time in a civilian society after the straightforward survival life of a prolonged campaign would have been tough.

We read about legionaries coming back to Rome and getting into all sorts of trouble, their days and nights taken up with gambling, brawling, and whoring.

It’s no wonder that generals and emperors created coloniae for retired soldiers on the fringes of the Empire. In these places, veterans would not be able to cause trouble in Rome, but they would also be given the opportunity to have some land and make a life for themselves.

Thamugadi – A Roman colonia in North Africa for retired veterans

In my book Warriors of Epona, my protagonist is reunited with his family. He has to face peace time.

How does he deal with this? How does his family deal with him?

War changes a person, whether it’s in the past or the present day. It’s an experience unlike any other and I salute anyone who faces the conflict that comes with stepping from the world of war into the world of peace, and vice versa.

In the Roman Empire, they were two very different battlefields, as they are, I suspect, today.

I imagine that reconciling the two worlds can push a man or woman to their very limits.

Post-traumatic Stress Disorder (PTSD) is real.

I’ve often thought that governments should step up more when it comes to helping veterans. How about free college education for veterans and their families? Or exemption from taxation for them and their families for all they have risked and sacrificed? What about a good pension?

Veterans today shouldn’t have to worry about finances or a roof over their heads. They have enough to deal with when the fighting is done.

I’ve read that Alexander the Great actually did these things for his veterans, and the Roman Empire granted lands to hers.

Any government people who happen to be reading this should take notes.

We can also do our part, whether it’s wearing a red poppy, thanking a veteran for their dangerous work, or donating to an organization that directly helps veterans and their families.

The very least we can do is be quiet for a minute at 11:00 a.m. on November 11th.

As ever, at this time of year, I feel like my words fall short, that they are not nearly enough. I’d like to close this by expressing my heartfelt thanks and gratitude to the men and women in uniform who have risked, and are risking, their lives to keep us safe and free.

THANK YOU.

And thank you, dear readers, for following along.

In future, when you read a novel about warriors in the ancient world, do bear in mind that there are modern equivalents. The homecomings for many of them are far more difficult than we can imagine.

 

Today, there are numerous organizations whose sole purpose is to help veterans, young and old, to make the transition from war zone to home front.

This year, Eagles and Dragons Publishing has made donations to two organizations whom we believe are making a real difference in the lives of veterans.

Wounded Warriors Canada’s mission is “To honour and support Canada’s ill and injured Canadian Armed Forces members, Veterans, First Responders and their families.”

Eagles and Dragons Publishing has donated to the ‘Couples Overcoming PTSD’ program.

VETS Canada is committed to helping homeless and at-risk veterans reintegrate into civilian life.

Eagles and Dragons Publishing has made a general donation to this wonderful, volunteer-led organization helping veterans in need.

 

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The World of the Carpathian Interlude – Part V : Monsters in the Dark – Werewolves in the Ancient World

 

In Part V of The World of The Carpathian Interlude, we are going to explore one of the aspects of horror in the series, to meld ancient history and belief with fantasy.

As we know, Emperor Augustus’ three legions, under the command of Publius Quinctilius Varus, were slaughtered in the forests of Germania in an unprecedented defeat for Rome. Fear has a stranglehold on the Roman world at this time, including the emperor, and everyone looks to place blame, to find an explanation.

As Cassius Dio said, it… could have been due to nothing else than the wrath of some divinity.

Rome in a panic

What else could it have been?

The omens were terrible. According to ancient sources, the temple on the Field of Mars in Rome was struck by lightning, locusts invaded the city, and a statue of Victory in the north turned its back on Germania. Surely a bunch of German barbarians under the command of a traitor could not have done this alone? A god must have been involved!

Or something else…

Etruscan urn showing wolf man emerging from the Underworld

This situation is something that the historical fantasy novelist truly relishes. The opportunity to put hindsight and modern doubt aside, and step into the mindset of the ancient world, replete with all of its folk and religious beliefs, its strong superstitions and maybe, just maybe, some ancient knowledge of which we are completely ignorant.

What if Arminius and the Germanic tribesmen received help from someone…something…who also had an interest in halting Rome’s northern advance?

Lykoi is the Greek word for ‘wolves’, and in The Carpathian Interlude they are not the shy, intelligent, loyal, and enigmatic animals we know them to be today.

Throughout history, the wolf has been demonized and hunted to the point of extinction in most of Europe. Every child in the west has grown up with stories of evil wolves haunting the forests surrounding settlements, slavering beasts who slaughter livestock and people alike and who revel in the blood of their kills.

And what takes the horror of the wolf one step further? – A man who turns into a wolf – a Werewolf.

In doing the research for The Carpathian Interlude, I discovered that the legend of the Werewolf was not a medieval fabrication as I had previously thought. In the ancient world, there are also references to Lycanthropes, or Werewolves.

An ancient Greek wolf-man

In the 5th century B.C. the historian Herodotus wrote about a people known as the Neuri who lived in the Scythian lands:

The Neuri follow Scythian customs; but one generation before the advent of Darius’ army, they happened to be driven from their country by snakes; for their land produced great numbers of these, and still more came down on them out of the desolation on the north, until at last the Neuri were so afflicted that they left their own country… It may be that these people are wizards; for the Scythians, and the Greeks settled in Scythia, say that once a year every one of the Neuri becomes a wolf for a few days and changes back again to his former shape. Those who tell this tale do not convince me; but they tell it nonetheless, and swear to its truth. (Herodotus; Histories Book IV 105)

Herodotus could be a picky historian, so for him to include this reference in his work, while expressing his own doubt at the same time, speaks to the possibility that the belief of the locals where he obtained this story was strong indeed.

But there are stories of wolf men going even farther back. The Roman poet, Ovid, writing during the reign of Emperor Augustus (the period during which this series is set), recounts the tale of the Arkadian King, Lycaon, in his famous work Metamorphoses.

King Lycaon was a Peloponnesian king from c. 1550 B.C. He was an arrogant tyrant who tried to pull a fast-one on Zeus [Jupiter], the king of the gods, by feeding the immortal human flesh. Here is Ovid’s account in the god’s own words:

I traversed Maenalus where fearful dens abound, over Lycaeus, wintry slopes of pine tree groves, across Cyllene steep; and as the twilight warned of night’s approach, I stopped in that Arcadian tyrant’s realms and entered his inhospitable home:—and when I showed his people that a God had come, the lowly prayed and worshiped me, but this Lycaon mocked their pious vows and scoffing said; ‘A fair experiment will prove the truth if this be god or man.’ and he prepared to slay me in the night,—to end my slumbers in the sleep of death. So made he merry with his impious proof; but not content with this he cut the throat of a Molossian hostage sent to him, and partly softened his still quivering limbs in boiling water, partly roasted them on fires that burned beneath. And when this flesh was served to me on tables, I destroyed his dwelling and his worthless Household Gods, with thunder bolts avenging. Terror-struck he took to flight, and on the silent plains is howling in his vain attempts to speak; he raves and rages and his greedy jaws, desiring their accustomed slaughter, turn against the sheep – still eager for their blood. His vesture separates in shaggy hair, his arms are changed to legs; and as a wolf he has the same grey locks, the same hard face, the same bright eyes, the same ferocious look. (Ovid; Metamorphoses, Book I, 216)

In mythology it was not unusual to find the gods punishing humans by turning them into animals, but the example of Lycaon is noteworthy. His sacrilege to Zeus, his hubris, is unforgiveable. The king of the gods could have turned the wicked mortal into anything, any animal or insect, but Zeus chose to turn Lycaon into a wolf man, a being in pain who could not be satiated, who kept his awareness despite not being able to speak. Lycaon is turned into a beast who preys upon beasts, ‘terror-struck’ and yet also terrifying.

Zeus turns Lycaon into a wolf

There was, it seemed, always a price to pay for being turned into a Werewolf, or Lykos. It was a painful, horrifying existence.

Another example from ancient literature that stands out is Gaius Petronius’ Satyricon, believed to originate from sometime during the reign of Nero in the 1st century A.D.

Petronius’ work is one of the few surviving Roman novels, and it is mostly a satire of life in ancient Rome. However, one of the episodes involves a character who heads-out one night to his woman’s home with a soldier friend who, as they walk along the road, turns into a Werewolf. Far from being a humorous episode, Petronius writes in detail about what happens:

I seized my opportunity, and persuaded a guest in our house to come with me as far as the fifth milestone. He was a soldier, and as brave as Hell. So we trotted off about cockcrow; the moon shone like high noon. We got among the tombstones: my man went aside to look at the epitaphs, I sat down with my heart full of song and began to count the graves. Then when I looked round at my friend, he stripped himself and put all his clothes by the roadside. My heart was in my mouth, but I stood like a dead man. He made a ring of water round his clothes and suddenly turned into a wolf. Please do not think I am joking; I would not lie about this for any fortune in the world. But as I was saying, after he had turned into a wolf, he began to howl, and ran off into the woods. At first I hardly knew where I was, then I went up to take his clothes; but they had all turned into stone. No one could be nearer dead with terror than I was. But I drew my sword and went slaying shadows all the way till I came to my love’s house. I went in like a corpse, and nearly gave up the ghost, the sweat ran down my legs, my eyes were dull, I could hardly be revived. My dear Melissa was surprised at my being out so late, and said, ‘If you had come earlier you might at least have helped us; a wolf got into the house and worried all our sheep, and let their blood like a butcher. But he did not make fools of us, even though he got off; for our slave made a hole in his neck with a spear.’ When I heard this, I could not keep my eyes shut any longer, but at break of day I rushed back to my master Gaius’s house like a defrauded publican, and when I came to the place where the clothes were turned into stone, I found nothing but a pool of blood. But when I reached home, my soldier was lying in bed like an ox, with a doctor looking after his neck. I realized that he was a werewolf, and I never could sit down to a meal with him afterwards, not if you had killed me first. Other people may think what they like about this; but may all your guardian angels punish me if I am lying. (Petronius; Satyricon 62)

Petronius’ character was either drinking some heady wine that night, or else his soldier friend had other major issues.

The point of these texts is that there was an awareness of Werewolves in the ancient world, or of Lycanthropy, a psychological disease that the famous physician Galen apparently wrote about, in which a person believed they were part wolf and had the ravenous appetite to match that belief.

Now back to The Carpathian Interlude…

The Varus disaster was an unbelievable event, behind which much darker powers are at play. Throughout this series, the powers of Light (Mithras and Rome) and Dark (the Carpathian Lord and the ‘Barbarians’) are locked a battle that has been raging for ages.

And Gaius Justus Vitalis, his men, and the boy, Daxos, are caught up in the middle of it. The war is waged on many fronts – in the dark of the forests of Germania and Carpathia, on the battlefields of the frontier, and mostly in the hearts and minds of Mithras’ own soldiers, his Heliodromus and his Miles, Gaius and his men.

This is a story that will haunt you and leave the screams of Rome’s dead and dying men ringing in your ears for a long time to come, just as it did for the people of Rome over two thousand years ago.

In Part VI of The World of The Carpathian Interlude, we’re going into the heart of Dacia, home to some of Rome’s fiercest enemies.

Thank you for reading!

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Writing Ancient Religion

Mithras

Why is it that a lot of writers steer clear of ancient religious practices in fiction?

Is it because it’s awkward and clashes with their modern beliefs, religious or otherwise? Or perhaps it’s because they don’t feel comfortable writing about something so strange, practices they really know very little about?

There is a lot of good fiction set in the ancient world and I’m always trying to find new novels to entertain and transport myself. One thing I’ve noticed is that when it comes to the religious practices of ancient Greeks and Romans, they are often (not always) portrayed as half-hearted, greeted with a good measure of pessimism. It might be a passing nod to a statue of a particular god or goddess, or a comment by the protagonist that he or she was making an offering even though they didn’t think it would do any good.

There is often an undercurrent of non-belief, a lack of mystery.

A relief of Demeter at the Elefsina site museum

Now, I’m not full of religious fervour myself; it’s difficult for anyone who has studied history in depth to be so. However, I see the value of it and respect its meaning for people across the ages. Religion is not necessarily at the forefront of our thoughts in modern, western society, but, in the ancient and medieval worlds, faith was often foremost in people’s thoughts.

It’s easy, blinded by hindsight, to dismiss ancient beliefs in the gods and goddesses of our ancestors.

As a writer, why would I want to dismiss something that is so important to the period in which my novels take place, something so important to the thoughts and motives of my characters?

The Door to Hades – part of the sanctuary of Elefsis, where the Elefsinian Mysteries were carried out

People in ancient Greece and Rome (for example) believed in a pantheon of gods and goddesses who governed every aspect of life. From the emotions one felt or the lighting of a family hearth fire, to the start of a business venture or a soldier’s march to battle, most people held their gods and goddesses close. Indeed, there was a god or goddess with accompanying rituals for almost everything.

Religion enriches the ancient world in historical fiction and sets it apart from today, transports the reader to a world that is foreign and exotic. And the beauty is that there is so much mystery, so little known, that the writer can spread his or her creative wings.

Mars – Roman God of War

Of course, it’s always important to do as much research as possible – if the primary texts don’t tell you much, then look to the paintings on ceramics, wall frescoes, statues and other carvings. If you can get to the actual sanctuaries of the ancient world, even better, for they are places where even the most sceptical person can feel that there is (or was) indeed something different going on.

When I write, I try to do something different by having my main characters in close touch with the gods of their ancestors. Since it is historical fantasy, I can get that much more creative in having characters interact with the gods who have a clear role to play and are characters themselves.

The beautiful thing about the gods of ancient Greece and Rome is that they are almost human, prone to the same emotions, the same prejudices, that we are. From a certain point of view, they’re more accessible.

The Pythia

Despite this however, their worship, be it Apollo, Venus, Magna Mater, Isis, Jupiter, Mithras or any other, is still shrouded in mystery, clouded by the passage of time. Thousands and thousands of ancient Greeks and Romans flocked to Elefsis to take part in the mysteries dedicated to Demeter and Persephone, but little is known because devotees were sworn to secrecy. Oaths then were ‘water-tight’ as the saying went. Also, at one point, most of the Roman army worshiped Mithras, the Persian Lord of Light and Truth. Do we know much about Mithraism? Some, but there is still much that is not known and perhaps never will be.

In one of my books some of the characters pay a visit to the Oracle of Apollo at Delphi, which was still revered in the Roman Empire. Today, if you watch a documentary on Delphi, you will hear about how the oracle was used by politicians to deliver fabricated answers to those seeking the god’s advice. It is true that politics and religion in the ancient and medieval worlds were frequent bedfellows, but one can not dismiss the power of belief and inspiration. If the Athenians had not received the famous answer from the Delphic Oracle about being saved by Athens’ ‘wooden walls’, then they might not have had such a crushing naval victory over the Persians at Salamis.

The Temple of Apollo at Delphi

There is a lot of room for debate on this topic and many, I suspect, will feel strongly for or against the exploration of ancient religion in fiction. If we feel inclined to dismiss ancient beliefs, to have our characters belittle them, to explain them away, we must ask ourselves why.

Do we dismiss ancient beliefs because we think they are silly, quaint, barbaric or false? Or do we stay away from them because we just don’t understand? Taking an interest in them, giving them some space on our blank pages, doesn’t mean we dismiss our own beliefs, it just means that we are open-minded and interested in accurately portraying the world about which we are writing.

Kylix from Delphi showing Apollo himself pouring a libation

I like my fiction to be vast and multi-hued. Like the Roman Empire, all gods and goddesses are welcome to be a part of the whole and it is my hope that, being inclusive, my own stories will be more interesting, more true to life, more mysterious.

I suppose, at the end of the day, we each have to decide whether to take that leap of faith.

Thank you for reading.

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The Pyramid of Hellinikon

Greetings history-lovers!

I hope your Summer has been brilliant thus far.

For myself, I returned from Greece a couple of weeks ago and I am well into my bout of Aegean Blues.

But that’s ok, because I have a couple thousand pictures to gaze at and rich memories of historical outings to keep me inspired.

I hope you enjoyed the pictures on Instagram – if you haven’t seen them, you can do so by CLICKING HERE. I will, of course, continue to post more of them as time goes on.

Today however, I want to share with you my experience visiting a site I’ve longed to see for some time – the Pyramid of Hellinikon.

I’ve mentioned this site before, but now that I have actually been to it I want to give you my impressions before the sound of cicadas fades from my ears, and the memory of intense heat upon my skin cools into Canadian autumn.

In short, this site exceeded my expectations and fired my imagination.

It also nearly fired my physical body as we had arrived in Greece on the tail end of a heat wave that saw temperatures soar into the mid-forties Celsius!

So, after a night of wine and food beneath the stars at the southern tip of the Argolid peninsula, we set out early(ish) over the high peak of Mt. Didyma, down toward ancient Epidaurus, and across to that beautiful jewel-of-a-city, Nauplion.

Now, I know my way around the area pretty well, but let’s just say that finding the Pyramid of Hellinikon was not easy, even with Google Maps.

Our car meandered around the curve of the Argolic Gulf to Nea Keos, then to the far side where we turned northwest.

You might think that with a map, and seeing it on a screen, the place would be easy to find. However, the routes we had to follow were the shape of a Greek Key at best.

And it was HOT!

There was also very little signage, so we had to stop and ask a man who was out watering his grass. As an aside, I think he is the only man in Greece with a large patch of manicured lawn!

Anyway, the fellow simply pointed up the mountain in the direction we were already headed, so we continued on our path, climbing up, turning, climbing again in the shadow of terraces where orange and olive trees grew on the side of the mountain.

We came around a corner and there it was. A pyramid!

The site is just adjacent to a church in the village of Hellinikon. The funny thing is that it stands out like a sore thumb compared with the village houses and church, but it blends almost completely with the ancient landscape itself. By rights, we should have seen it from the road along the gulf below, it stands in such a prominent position.

I pulled the car into the shade of a single tree (hoping it could cool off in thirty-seven degrees in the shade), and got out.

I had to stop and stare at this place, for no pictures had prepared me for the sheer size and antiquity of it. I didn’t feel the sun or heat anymore. I only saw the pyramid, and at the back of my mind the words of Pausanias crept in…

On the way from Argos to Epidauria there is on the right a building made very like a pyramid, and on it in relief are wrought shields of the Argive shape. Here took place a fight for the throne between Proetus and Acrisius; the contest, they say, ended in a draw, and a reconciliation resulted afterwards, as neither could gain a decisive victory. The story is that they and their hosts were armed with shields, which were first used in this battle. For those that fell on either side was built here a common tomb, as they were fellow citizens and kinsmen. (Pausanias; Description of Greece 2.25)

If what Pausanias, writing in the second century A.D., said was true, then I was standing before a pretty well-intact monument of the Greek Heroic Age.

Even now, it sends shivers down my spine…

According to Pausanias, who wrote many hundreds of years later, this pyramid was believed to be a tomb or monument to the fallen Argive soldiers in the opposing armies of Proetus and Acrisius.

Now, Proetus and Acrisius were brothers, sons of Abas and Aglaea, and mythical kings of Argos. Proetus was king first but after many battles with Acrisius, and subsequent losses, went into exile. Acrisius became King of Argos, and this is the same Acrisius who banished his own daughter, Danae, to the sea, along with her infant son – you guessed it! – Perseus.

Acrisius putting Danae and the baby Perseus into the box before throwing them into the sea

In truth, nobody is really certain of the age of this pyramid. There is no exact date for the battle between the legendary kings of Argos, Proetus and Acrisius. Another battle mentioned in the sources, in which a large number of Argive soldiers died, apparently took place in c.669 B.C.

It seems that as far as history and sources, the evidence is pretty misty. This is when archaeology and dating can help us a little.

From what I’ve read, the dating of the Hellinikon pyramid is highly controversial. On the one side we have the legend mentioned by Pausanias. Then, in 1937, excavations were undertaken by the American School at Athens in which they found pottery ranging from the proto-Helladic period to the Roman period. This shows the site was in use for some time, but what about dating?

A look at Thermoluminescence dating

There is a method of dating called thermoluminescence dating, and this was carried out on the pyramid of Hellinikon. Without going into too much detail about this, this method of dating measures the accumulated radiation in objects or sediment.

The team that carried this out, in addition to geophysical surveys, excavations, and a study of the masonry of the pyramid, dates the Hellinikon to the period of about 2000-2500 B.C.

That’s also about contemporary with the pyramids on the Giza plateau. It also falls more or less in the broad period of the Greek Heroic Age.

But this dating method has been highly criticized as inaccurate and sloppy, with one camp of academics taking shots at the group that undertook the study of the pyramid. Other groups believe the style of masonry sets the Hellinikon pyramid in the Classical period.

When I arrived at the site, however, I wasn’t so much concerned with academic theories or arguments. I was just captivated.

In Greece, history and mythology have a way of coming to life unlike anywhere else I’ve been. Perhaps it’s the remoteness of the sites, the landscape that has changed little since ancient times, or the fact that sites such as this are not encased, guarded or protected (for better or worse).

As I stood before the slanted cyclopean walls of this ancient structure I wondered not about the age of the structure, but more of its use. There are a very few pyramids in this part of Greece, and this one is the best preserved.

But what was it for?

I remembered reading that it was either a tomb or monument, as Pausanias suggests, or a sort of guardhouse.

Plain of Argos toward the Argolic Gulf as seen from the Pyramid

I opened the gate of the rusty fence surrounding the pyramid and approached, scanning the rocks and shrubs for any snakes or scorpions before pressing on.

Maybe it was my overactive writer’s imagination, but this place seemed to be pervaded by a deep thrumming, as if an ancient drum were being beaten in the earth below. I wondered if the shades of the fallen Argive soldiers might still dwell in that place. Had their ashes been placed within?

I wandered around to the back which faced the plain of Argos far below and found that there was a doorway, an arched gallery leading into the pyramid, not unlike the galleria at ancient Tyrins.

First I decided to explore the outside, to get a better feel of the place before heading in.

It hit me as I turned around to see the view from the pyramid…

The entire plain of Argos was clearly visible from the pyramid! You could see every approach – from the South along the sea, from between the mountains to the southwest, from the North toward Argos itself, from the mound of ancient Tyrins to the East, and from the other side of the Argolic Gulf and Nauplio to the southeast.

Then I thought of the other use of this place as a guardhouse. It was perfect. The pyramid blended perfectly into the landscape when ‘seen’ from far below, and it provided a perfect view of the surrounding area, a place from which to spot any threat to Argos itself. Also, I wondered if the shape was better suited to that high and no doubt lonely, windswept place in Winter.

In truth, I can’t be sure either way. Was it a tomb or monument, or was it a guardhouse? Both uses have merits.

After looking around, I turned and went in.

From the rubble strewn about, and the discolouration of the stone around the entrance, it did seem like the pyramid had been sealed at one point, otherwise, one of the corners would have been flat.

I pictured a procession of priests or warriors carrying the urns containing the remains of their fallen comrades into the pyramid beneath the peaked gallery, or a soldier finishing his shift on watch outside and heading back into the pyramid to sleep or eat while another took over outside to watch the valley.

Door frame between the gallery and main chamber of the pyramid

There was a high step at the end of the gallery, and then a door frame with grooves for hinges. I stood on this and looked down into a large square room.

This inner room of the pyramid was in good condition, and free of litter left by modern visitors. There were no stone shelves upon the cyclopean walls, just cracks and the odd, occasional circle cut into the stone. Below the door, there appeared to be a sort of broken basin or drain, but it was difficult to tell.

Standing inside the main chamber of the Hellinikon Pyramid

I stood in the middle of the room and turned around, noticing that it was much cooler and quieter inside the stone walls even though the roof is gone and it’s open to the sky.

After looking around and taking more photos, I made my way back outside to look at those wonderful walls once more and take in the view from that commanding position.

I stood there beneath the full heat of Helios’ orb in the heavens, the cicadas having reached fever pitch now, and lizards skittering away at my footfalls to hide in the shadowy cracks of rubble from the pyramid.

I had never been to a place like this before, and I doubt that I will again, for the Pyramid of Hellinikon is truly unique. True, it’s nowhere near as grand as other pyramids, but it made me feel directly linked to that ancient land and the events that had (or may have) taken place there.

As I took one last look from the wall of the pyramid to the valley, the roads disappeared far below and the air was filled with the sounds of battle, of warriors in bronze and leather, the charge of horses and cry of eagles.

You can’t help but see the past through romantic lenses in a place like this, and that’s ok. It makes it exciting.

I didn’t know if the shades of dead Argives were standing beside me then, but I do know that while at the Pyramid of Hellinikon, I did not feel alone.

I hope you’ve enjoyed this little tour of the Pyramid of Hellinikon. If you ever find yourself near Argos or Nauplio, you should definitely check it out.

If you want to see the rough video clips I took on the site, I’ve put them all together below in a short YouTube video…

In the comments below, be sure to share your thoughts on this pyramid. Was it a guardhouse, a tomb or war memorial, or was it something else?

Thank you for reading!

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Ancient Orphanage – The Sanctuary of Artemis at Brauron

“Muse, sing of Artemis, sister of the Far-Shooter, the virgin who delights in arrows…”

(Homeric Hymn IX)

Artemis – Goddess of the Hunt and Protector of Children

It was early January in Attica, Greece, a few years ago. I remember it clearly.

I drove out of Athens on a grey day that could dampen anyone’s post-holiday spirits.

The New Year had come and gone, copious amounts of food and wine having been consumed. A new adventure was needed.

My destination on that rainy day? – The Sanctuary of Artemis at Brauron.

I drove the forty two kilometres from Athens to Brauron, passing dark, rocky mountains and hills covered in deep green foliage. Greece is a very different place in the winter. This was another one of those journeys in which I didn’t know what to expect.

I had never heard of Brauron, or of an Attic sanctuary of Artemis, Goddess of the Hunt, protector of young girls and women in childbirth.

The car splashed its way over tiny roads and through villages lost to the outside world. As I drove past, a few heads poked out of windows to follow my progress as if in some eerie back-woods movie setting.

Finally, I came to my destination. I parked the car on the side of the road and stopped for a moment to listen to the pattering of the rain on the roof. I wiped my foggy window and could just make out a set of grey columns standing sentry in the rain. I put on my rain gear and jumped out.

The gate to the site was open and no one was at the booth. So I walked into the sanctuary.

Brauron – view from stoa, across the courtyard to the temple of Artemis

My initial reaction was one of sadness. I don’t know why, but the rain seemed fitting then, as though the gods wept for something.

This is a place of great antiquity.

Supposedly, Brauron has been inhabited since the early Mycenaean age. Legend has it that the sanctuary of Artemis was established by none other than Iphegeneia, the daughter of Agamemnon, King of Mycenae.

Iphegeneia is brought to Aulis in this painting:

‘The Anger of Achilles’ by Jacques-Louis David (1819)

Here is a brief summary for those of you who do not know her story. The Greek army, led by Agamemnon, was stuck at Aulis because of bad weather which prevented them from setting out for Troy.

This was said to be due to an offense done to Artemis. Calchas, the high king’s seer, told Agamemnon that the only way for the goddess to be appeased and for the winds to abate was for him to sacrifice his own daughter, Iphigeneia, to the goddess.

The young girl was brought to Aulis under the pretence that she was to marry the hero Achilles, and when she arrived, Agamemnon did the unthinkable.

Euripides opens his play Ipheigeneia in Tauris. Iphegeneia speaks:

“Child of the man of torment and of pride

Tantalid Pelops bore a royal bride

On flying steeds from Pisa. Thence did spring

Atreus: from Atreus, linked king with king,

Menelaus, Agamemnon. His am I

And Clytemnestra’s child: whom cruelly

At Aulis, where the strait of the shifting blue

Frets with quick winds, for Helen’s sake he slew,

Or thinks to have slain; such sacrifice he swore

To Artemis on that deep-bosomed shore.

For there Lord Agamemnon, hot with joy

To win for Greece the crown of conquered Troy,

For Menelaus’ sake through all distress

Pursuing Helen’s vanished loveliness,

Gathered his thousand ships from every coast

Of Hellas: when there fell on that great host

Storms and despair of sailing. Then the King

Sought signs of fire, and Calchas answering

Spake thus: “O Lord of Hellas, from this shore

No ship of thine may move for evermore,

Till Artemis receive in gift of blood

Thy child, Iphegeneia. Long hath stood

Thy vow, to pay to Her that bringeth light

Whatever birth most fair by day or night

The year should bring. That year thy queen did

Bear

A child – whom here I name of all most fair.

See that she die.”

So from my mother’s side

By lies Odysseus won me, to be bride

In Aulis to Achilles. When I came,

They took me and above the altar flame

Held, and the sword was swinging to the gash,

When, lo, out of their vision in a flash

Artemis rapt me, leaving in my place

A deer to bleed; and on through a great space

Of shining sky upbore and in this town

Of Tauris the Unfriended set me down;

Where o’er a savage people savagely

King Thoas rules. This is her sanctuary

And I her priestess. Therefore, by the rite

Of worship here, wherein she hath delight –

Though fair in naught but name. …But Artemis

Is near; I speak no further…”

(Iphegeneia in Tauris; Euripides; c.413 B.C)

Even in translation, the words Euripides gives to this tragic girl are powerful and moving.

Thankfully, the goddess Artemis is said to have substituted another sacrifice for Iphegeneia, and taken her far away to be a priestess in her temple at Tauris, in the Crimea. She spent years there away from her mother, Clytemnestra, and her brother, Orestes. She also lived knowing her own father had been ready to end her life.

Orestes and Electra at father’s tomb

The Trojan War played itself out, and Agamemnon made his way home to be murdered by Clytemnestra and her lover Aegisthus. About seven years later, Orestes, the son of Agamemnon, returns from Athens and with encouragement from his sister, Electra, kills his mother and her lover.

Orestes is pursued by the Furies for his deeds, but then Apollo orders him to go to Tauris in order to take the wooden cult statue of Artemis and bring it back to Athens. Euripides tells how Orestes goes to Tauris and eventually sees his sister Iphegeneia there. They are reunited and she helps him to take the statue and together they return to Attica where she establishes the Sanctuary of Artemis.

Here, the Goddess Athena speaks to Iphegeneia before she leaves Tauris:

“…Iphegeneia, by the stair

Of Brauron in the rocks, the Key shalt bear

Of Artemis. There shalt thou live and die,

And there have burial. And a gift shall lie

Above thy shrine, fair raiment undefiled

Left upon earth by mothers dead with child.”

(Iphegeneia in Tauris; Euripides)

Iphegeheia is said to have spent the remainder of her days at Brauron.

Apollo blesses Orestes and tells him to go to Tauris Clytemnestra’s shade and a Fury look on

The cult of Artemis at Brauron died out after the Mycenaean age but was re-established from the 9th century B.C. on. Eventually, the cult of Artemis was brought to Athens. After that, there was a procession every four years from the Temple of Artemis Brauronia on the Athenian Acropolis to Brauron, in honour of the goddess and her priestess, Iphegeneia.

Sanctuary of Artemis Brauronia on the Athenian Acropolis (Perseus Digital Library)

But what was the purpose of the sanctuary at Brauron besides being a place to honour of the goddess?

It seems that the sanctuary also functioned as a sort of orphanage or fostering place for young girls who served the goddess from about five to ten years of age. They performed rituals which included sacred dances in which they acted like bears. In fact, the girls were called arktoi, or ‘the bears’. This odd tradition of the bears is said to commemorate the slaying of one of Artemis’ sacred bears by one of the girls’ brothers. The Arkteia was a service to the goddess in which young girls would transition from childhood to puberty and marriageable age.

Votive statues of children from Brauron (Brauron Museum)

At Brauron, Artemis was worshipped as a protector of girls and women in childbirth. Women who survived childbirth dedicated a set of clothes to the goddess. The clothes of women who died in childbirth were, in turn, dedicated to Iphegeneia.

I imagine a lot of hope springing up in this place, but also much sadness.

Aerial view of the sanctuary of Artemis at Brauron

Once you cross the 5th century bridge into the sanctuary, you come to the unusual p-shaped stoa which has what are thought to be dining rooms or, more likely, rooms for the girls living within the sanctuary. Inside, you can still see places where their sleeping pallets might have been and holes carved into the marble where the door posts rested.

The stoa is known as the ‘Stoa of Bears’.

Remains of the Temple of Artemis beside sacred spring

I walked along the paving slabs on that rainy day, peeking into the small rooms and wondering at the children who would have been there. Were they peasants or nobility? Were their parents killed by war or plague? Were they sent there in fulfillment of a vow? Who did they have left in the world?

It must have been a frightening prospect to leave the safety of the sanctuary as well. What must a young girl have thought when she turned ten and knew that her time had come to perform the sacred dance one last time before going out into the world. Ancient Greece was not so kind a place for girls or women. They were seen as vessels to be kept indoors.

A good thing they had Artemis to look over them, and to see them through childbirth.

The stoa courtyard was overgrown with sodden grass when I was there, and the ruins of the small Temple of Artemis were minimal.

The ‘Stoa of Bears’

As I made my way through the site, I eventually came to a small cave-like recess that was supposed to be a shrine to Iphegeneia, that sad daughter of Agamemnon.

The rain stopped here, and the skin prickled on the back of my neck.

For how long had this first priestess of Brauron been honoured here? Ages, it seemed.

I let my imagination go in the sanctuary and could hear the laughter of little girls playing, or their lonely cries upon their straw pallets. I could see them mimicking the bears for which they were named, and hear the sound of their voices raised in song to Artemis, their protectress.

From Brauron’s beginnings as a sacred site, each of those little girls likely stood where I was standing and remembered Iphegeneia and her plight. I thought of how they must have wept at her sad story and perhaps felt better about their own lives that led them to that place in the green hills of Attica.

The Sanctuary of Artemis at Brauron is a very special place.

Votive Statue of a young girl from Brauron

When I crossed back over that classical bridge and made my way back to the car, I turned at the gate and looked back through the driving rain one last time.

Usually, when I leave an ancient site or sanctuary, I feel uplifted and at peace.

Not so with Brauron.

Upon leaving Brauron, my heart was in turmoil, and it still is when I think back on that place.

It’s place of conflicting emotions wrapped in myth and legend.

It’s a great comfort in some ways to know that this was a place where young girls were protected, watched over by their patron goddess who saved the first priestess – this, in an ancient, male-dominated world of war and superstition.

On the other hand, as I turned my back on the dark columns and sodden earth of the sanctuary, my sole, sad thought was for Iphegeneia whose father was so determined to sail for Troy that he was willing to perform such a heinous and tragic act.

Thus do myth, legend, and history combine to shape our view of the places of the past.

Thank you for reading.

Site map of the Brauron sanctuary by J.M. Harrington (Wikimedia Commons)

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