"Poor Theo, is that what you think has been weighing on my mind this whole time? Aglaia? Go to her inn tonight yourself, if you like, she's clearly looking for a quick roll before she marries her town's rich man, who probably has three obols to his name compared to his rivals' two." He winked at me, and I cringed in distaste.
"You're right, though," he continued. "I was thinking of Aglaia, but not the way you expect. I was just considering how satisfied she was at having asked the oracle her precise, narrow question, and at receiving the answer most useful to her. There are hundreds of stories of men blinded by their pride and ambition, asking an open-ended question of the oracle and receiving an open-ended answer. They ignore the ambiguity, and hear only what they wish to hear, taking the wrong course of action and suffering for it. Is Aglaia wiser than those old kings, in not trying to tempt or confuse the god, and in seeking only an answer she is capable of obeying?"
Xenophon resumed his stroll, but now he was agitated, his mind working faster than he was able to speak, a troubled expression on his face. "I can't understand why Socrates didn't advise me on this before we left," he went on. "I see the wisdom of Aglaia's solution, and the satisfaction she feels at the answer she received, which is actually the answer she would have wanted all along. But if you narrow your question as she did-restricting the range of the god's answers, which you could take so far as to eliminate the god's every choice but the one answer you wish to receive-are you not still trying to deceive the god, and thereby deceiving yourself? And if you are deceiving the god-well then, does the god know that? I mean, do the gods really see into our hearts and minds? Can they read our souls? Do they even care to, or is it enough that from their heights on Olympus they see only our physical actions, the outward evidence of our thoughts?"
He continued speaking, becoming more excited, gesturing with his hands as we walked and ignoring the sidelong glances of the passersby.
"The problem is, Theo, if Apollo knows he's being duped by being asked a staged question from which his choices are limited, why would he meekly accept this, and cause the oracle to provide the truly best answer? Because of the goat we sacrifice in his honor beforehand? Is the god so easily bought? If the truthfulness of his answer is conditional upon the size of the sacrifice, next time I'll bring an elephant! If Croesus, with all the wealth he donated to the oracle's treasury, was given an answer calculated to lead him astray, even though the god knew of his ambitions to conquer Persia, what hope did penniless Aglaia have of receiving a straight answer from the god? At least Croesus asked an honest question!"
Xenophon fell silent for a few moments, as we finally approached the inn. He looked longingly back at the streets, as if reluctant to go inside, though I myself was exhausted from our long ramble up and down the steep flagstones.
"I'm speaking gibberish, Theo, forgive me. But I was much more confident of my prospects with the oracle before we met Aglaia. She's put more doubts in my mind than Socrates ever did."
I was at a loss what to say to my troubled master. The faint echoes of the ancient chanting had begun repeating themselves in my mind, like an irritating buzzing of which I was unable to rid myself, and my feelings for the success of our venture had begun to darken.
CHAPTER THREE
THE DOORKEEPER CHALLENGED us as we passed through the entrance to the inner temple, demanding our names and business. "Xenophon of Athens," my master replied condescendingly, "and my freed-man Theo… Themistogenes of Syracuse, who will assist me." The custodian coolly appraised us, then turned to a scroll containing a list of names. This was the last day the oracle could be consulted this year, and though the list was short, containing only two or three names, the guardian pursed his lips self-importantly and made a considerable effort to maintain the protocol of his position. At last finding our names on the scroll, and verifying that we had already paid the consultation fee, the guardian grudgingly waved us through the narrow door into the huge temple grounds.
Before us was a broad, square courtyard, paved with flagstones worn smooth by the centuries of sandal-clad and bare feet that had trod its surface. It was completely abandoned, except for a half dozen acolytes lethargically mopping the stones in the corners with hand rags, in preparation for the dedication of Dionysus' arrival the following day. At the front of the courtyard stood a small altar, with a lamp burning on either end. A stone trough had been placed to the side of it, into which flowed a trickle of water from one of the many sacred springs located on the mountainside. We walked cautiously up to the altar and waited in silence, wondering whether we were expected to seek a guide, or to call out and announce our presence.
The wall above the altar was carved with the wisdom of the responses emanating from the oracle over the generations. Know Thyself, and Nothing Too Much were placed in prominent locations directly over the entrance to the inner temple. Other sayings too, all conveying the spirit for which Apollo stood, adorned the side doors, even the entrance to the stone barn where the sacrificial animals were kept for the ceremony: Curb Thy Spirit, Keep a Reverent Tongue, Observe the Limit, Glory Not in Strength and my favorite in consideration of its effect on Aglaia: Keep Woman Under Rule. The impact would have been lost on her in any case, as I doubted she could read.
Suddenly a side door opened, and a bald, elderly priest in white robes shuffled out, accompanied by a young acolyte leading a magnificent ram. The ram followed docilely as the trio calmly approached the altar. Upon reaching it, however, the ram determined not to stop, but rather to continue on with its stroll, and it took all the boy's strength to tie the beast to an iron ring set into the stone wall, where it continued to strain against the tether with might and main.
Xenophon had studied the customs of the oracle in advance, and knew that at this point we were expected to sacrifice the animal, which had, in fact, been paid for as part of the consultation fee. The procedure was to sprinkle the creature with cold water taken from the sacred trough, to induce a shudder. This could not be merely a quick tremor, but rather had to consist of a trembling and a shaking throughout the animal's entire body, to the tips of its hooves. The animal's very bones must rattle, the point being to obtain its nod of assent for the sacrifice. If this were achieved, the occasion would be deemed propitious, and Xenophon allowed to make the sacrifice to the god.
With the boy's help, I held the squirming animal between my legs, uttering calming words until its thrashing had subsided and it stood still. Looking down on its face from above I could see my own head and torso reflected in the ram's large watery eyes, until my legs disappeared into the edge of its long eyelashes. I wondered if the gods, too, saw their reflections when looking down into men's eyes from the heavens, and whether, if one were careful and closely observed the Pythia while communing with Apollo, one might not catch a glimpse of the god himself in her eyes, even if the reflection were upside down. Xenophon scooped up a handful of water and sprinkled it gently on the ram's brow. It snapped its head in irritation and snorted, but gave not the slightest semblance of a shudder. Xenophon stepped again to the trough, scooped up more water in his cupped hands, and this time, rather than sprinkling it, dumped it straight into the ram's face. The beast bleated in rage and spit, nearly bucking me off as I struggled to immobilize it between my legs, with my hands tightly grasping its horns. Still no shudder.
In exasperation, Xenophon looked around and spied one of the temple slaves continuing to mop on his hands and knees in the corner, pretending to ignore the whole proceeding while his shoulders shook in silent laughter. He stalked over, grabbed the boy's bucket, and before anyone could react, strode straight to the trough and slopped an entire bucketful over the doomed beast, soaking it and me in the process.