By midday, half my water was gone, along with most of the single loaf she’d given me. There was still no sign of human habitation, and I decided I’d better ration the rest of my supplies carefully.
That night, I shivered uncontrollably. The night air was cold against my sunburned skin. When the sun rose, I was grateful for its warmth – until it sat high in the sky. Scorching me once again with its blistering rays.
My steps slowed then stopped. I was exhausted. Out of water. I couldn’t go on. I’d die here in this wilderness, and my mother would never know what happened to me. I’d never feel her arms around me again, never see her sweet smile. I loved her so much. I couldn’t bear the thought that she might think I ran away rather than return home. It would break her heart.
I fell to my knees, sobbing.
It could have been hours. It could have been only minutes. But once my tears were spent, I heard the old woman’s voice in my head.A great warriorloves someone – or something - more than himself. That is where he summons the strength to keep on fighting when every weary fiber of his being cries out to surrender.
That’s when I remembered the scarf I’d bought for my mother. I fumbled in my pocket for it. Wrapped it around my head to shield me from the brutal rays, hauled myself to my feet, and stumbled on.
The cliffs appeared in the distance late on the second day, covering the horizon from north to south. The closer I got, the taller they rose. It was night again by the time I reached the face. That’s when I heard her shrill voice coming from high above.
“About time you got here. Come on up.”
Up? I’d never climbed anything taller than the hills around our home. The sheer rock face had to be a hundred feet high. Two hundred. Half out of my mind with exhaustion and thirst, I collapsed on the ground, shaking my head.
“Are you a warrior? Or a weakling?”
She taunted me mercilessly all the way up. All through the night. Dawn was breaking when I finally hauled myself over the edge, every muscle in my body trembling with fatigue. She’d disappeared again but left the flask along with bread and cheese and meat wrapped in a cloth.
I ate and drank my fill then dragged myself to the shelter of a tree and slept like the dead for hours. The young are resilient and when I woke, I was ready to track the old bitch down and exact my revenge.
To my surprise, I was on a wide green plateau. Trees dotted the landscape here and there. In the distance, in the middle of a flower-filled meadow, stood an ancient stone temple topped with a golden dome. As I drew near, I saw a wide flight of stone steps leading to bronze doors easily twenty feet high.
Despite having been tutored by learned scholars, I’d never heard of this temple. Nor had I seen anything so grand in our modern-day world. Awed, I mounted the steps and ventured inside.
I’d slept most of the day and by the time I got to the temple, dusk had fallen. The interior was cool and dark, without a source of natural light except for a few stars I glimpsed through a circle in the center of the dome, open to the heavens. The structure was much larger than it looked from outside. Flickering torches set high on the walls stretched far into the distance.
From the little I could see, the temple was empty, except for a raised dais under the center of the dome with what looked like a throne atop it. Huge braziers surrounded the dais, piled with glowing hunks of incense. It smelled exotic, like the whiff I got of the goods from a spice market I passed in the city. Smoke from the braziers hung in a cloud around the dais, obscuring my view. Was there a statue on the throne?
I came closer and nearly cried out in fright when the statue moved. Stretched out a hand and beckoned me nearer.
Then I saw it wasn’t a statue. It was a woman. A beautiful woman in a long purple gown with silver-blonde hair flowing nearly to her waist.
“Who are you? What is this place?”
“I told you before. My name is not important. This is the temple of the Goddess.”
Told me before? I rubbed my forehead. My mind was playing tricks on me again. Maybe I was delirious and this all an illusion. Even now, my body might be lying at the foot of the cliff where I collapsed, life seeping away.
“This is no illusion.” She spoke as though she’d read my mind. “You told the Goddess you want to be a great warrior. The greatest warrior who ever lived. I believe those were your exact words.”
Her appearance had changed, but I recognized the slightly mocking tone of her voice. It was the old woman who called herself the Oracle.
“You! You heartless bitch!” I charged at the dais, ready to throttle her, female or not.
She waved a hand, and suddenly my feet were rooted to the spot.
“Let me go! I swear by all the gods, I’ll send you to the seventh hell for what you did to me!”
She laughed. A full-throated hearty laugh. “You made it, didn’t you? Now tell me, what did you learn?”
“I learned I hate you,” I spat.
She was unfazed. “Hate alone is not enough to make a warrior great. What else?”
“I learned not to drink all my water the first day,” I shot back.