Chapter 16 Triangle Completed on the Isle of the Moon

The night was as light as some Winter days, with the Harvester Moon of Midsummer a huge silver disk hanging low still in the almost starless sky. Attis had led Cybele across the freshly cut stubble of the fields toward the north-east.

They had playfully wrestled and embraced and wrestled again for the entire long walk to the cliffs. In harsh weather, this northern coastline was a barren and forbidding stretch, but on this warm night, it was beautiful and eerily quiet. The moon's reflection stretched toward them across a sea which lay still as a pond. They stood together too near to the edge for safety, but Cybele felt indestructible.

Without her even asking, Attis seemed to read her mind, and started to sing. It was a beautiful melody, and the words flowed from him like fresh warm honey. She wondered if his words were made up as he sang, or if this was some mainland ballad he remembered from his childhood.

The story was of a woman whose lover had perished at sea. She wanted to join him in the heavens, so she took a boat and called to the Sun to take her into the sky. But he would not listen, and the boat sat becalmed in the vast ocean. As she lay weeping, night fell. The woman looked to the Moon and asked for her help. The Moon had far more compassion, and called a thousand fish to the boat. She then planted on them tiny silver wings, and they leapt from the water and took hold of the sail with their mouths and carried the woman up to the Moon, where she was reunited with her lover. The Moon let the fish keep their wings, and still they fly by the light of the moon whenever they hear a woman weeping.

By the time Attis finished his song, Cybele had tears streaming down her cheeks. 'Sang you of your Mother?' she asked.

'The Isle of the Moon is as far as the Moon, without the Goddess to guide you.' he replied. He went on no further with his reminiscence, but started to walk along the top of the headland. Cybele followed after him. A small light glowed ahead of them, and she tried to calculate what cottage it could be. Her bearings were a little lost in the strangely bright moonlight. They had been following no paths for their long walk, but meandered in large curves until they had come to the sea, and so she was now a little unsure where they were.

'What is that ahead?' she asked Attis.

'You know it as well as I, we both spent time there as children.' Of course. The Hut of Rebirth, Cabirius's prison.

'We could go and simply pull the bolt from the door..' she suggested.

Attis shook his head. 'You know that there would be nowhere he could hide on the Isle.'

'We could appeal to the Moon..' she suggested.

'But we have no boat for the fishes to pull.'

'Well, if we can release him not, then let us at least visit him on this night, when all others are given the revelry of a Fair.'

'Think you he would want our company?' Attis asked.

'He could always ask us to leave if he does not.'

'I hear he asks little now.'

'That is true. I had heard also that he has given fully in to despair. It pains me so much...' The distress in her voice was obvious. Attis caught her in his arms and kissed her gently.

'You have done everything in your power. If he had even once protested his innocence, you would have been able to rescue him. But it is as though this is what he chose for himself.'

'Thank you, Attis,' she said warmly. 'I recognise you less and less of late, but.... I like you more and more.'

He smiled at her. 'I think I should take offence at that, were it not for the fact that I begin to like myself a little more also.' They had come to the door of the hut. The low heavy wooden door had a small barred window, through which lamplight escaped. They both peered through. Cabirius sat at a stool, staring directly at the lamp burning on the table in front of him, as though he were transfixed by its tiny flame. He was much changed, dangerously thin and with at least a week's stubble now on his chin.

He looked as though he had been forgotten for some time by whoever tended him, although a bowl of cold tea sat untouched beside the door.

'He looks not well,' Cybele whispered to Attis.

'Ho! Cabirius!' Attis called through the window. There was no response. Attis deftly slid the heavy bolt. It was the same as most door-bolts but on the reverse face of the door, to keep one in rather than others out. Cybele reminded him to be careful to keep the bolt out of the lock, lest they accidentally become locked inside by a mischievous gust of wind. They cautiously approached their haggard friend. There was only Cabirius's one small stool in the hut, but the small table was fixed into the stone-and-peat wall, and so was steady enough for one to sit on once the lamp was moved.

Cabirius's eyes did not even follow the flame as Attis moved it to a nearby sill. He continued to stare blankly at Cybele's thigh which had taken the place of the lamp on the table in front of him. She took the opportunity to try to rouse his attention with a little with jest.

'Think you it polite to stare at a woman's private places?' she quipped. Attis smiled at her attempt to keep brave face when Cabirius was in such a sorry state. She turned back to Attis, unable to prevent herself speaking as though Cabirius was not present.

'How can they keep him locked here when he is in a worse state than his supposed victim? What ails him?'

Attis shrugged. 'It seems some sort of trance.'

'Like Kelle when we found her, or you at the Trial of Priapus?' she asked.

'I remember not my own, Cybele. That is one of those annoying things about trances,' he joked. She realised what he meant.

'Of course, how can there be memory when there was no awareness to collect the memory in the first instance.' she thought aloud. She then followed on the thought to when Attis's trance had finished.

'Cabirius managed to break your trance.' she offered.

Attis smiled. 'I remember well the time after the Trial, when he was telling me I had won..'

'How did he manage that? It is not easy to speak with your mouth full...' she mischievously suggested.

'You are a wicked creature,' he laughed. 'I think not Cabirius would be pleased for you to remind him of that subject.'

'I am simply trying to suggest a cure,' she said teasingly.

'But which one of us would try?'

'You jest, surely? I cannot imagine your trusted Jenna the Healer suggesting such medicine!'

'Then perhaps that it because it is one she has not yet discovered for herself.'

'That is quite likely. I hear that her own preference is for the village girls, so I think she would not approve of your calling on the god Priapus! Well, though, if you really wish to try it, I'm sure it would do him little harm. Indeed, methinks he would enjoy it even if it broke not his trance. I would certainly wish you to do as much for me, should I ever fall into another such daze.'

'You wish not to offer him the medicine yourself? As a return favour for his deed for you?' she asked in light jest.

Attis smiled at her. 'I think he would prefer your touch to mine. When he was sensible still, he sought my touch no longer. His choice was for you.'

Cybele was suddenly more serious. 'If it would make you envious, I would not wish to try.'

'Would I have reason to be envious, Cybele?' he asked, also in earnest.

'What mean you?'

'I know I showed no care of your love for him before all this, but that was because I sought it not myself. Your body, as a vessel of the Goddess, yes, but not your love. I have more desire for that from you now.'

'You surprise me more each moment, Attis. It is as though I have not known you at all for all these moons.'

'You answer me not, though.'

'You asked me no question, just cast your net in hope of my offering.'

'I ask not, for I am too afraid of your answer. I would rather continue to hope with the words unspoken than risk you saying what I do not wish to hear.'

'Then I shall not make you ask until I am ready to answer. Would you have believed your own words of this night, had you heard yourself speak them even a moon ago?'

He smiled. 'No. You are wise to be cautious of me, Cybele.'

'So you would rather I did not try to pleasure Cabirius, then?' she said quietly.

'I said that not,' he answered. 'He is still my friend, and I would not begrudge him the smallest pleasure in this sorry state. I said that I wanted you not to love him, that is all.'

'Do you still love him yourself?' she asked.

'Long ago, when I was in torment for him, he offered me words which I believed not and found offensive. But now I find that they were true. He said that I would likely grow out of my hunger for him. I do love him still, Cybele, but I find that I have little desire for his flesh.'

'I wonder what he would think, to hear us now,' she mused.

'I believe he can, in some way. But his trance is deep, far deeper than mine was, Cybele. Be not disappointed if you fail to rouse him. Do you wish me to wait for you outside?'

'No, Attis. I would feel more easy if you remained, and even held my hand. I shall not be doing it for my own pleasure, remember.'

'Surely it would be a pleasure for you still. You love him yet, do you not?'

'In honesty, I know not, Attis. I only wish he were his own self, so that I could know better my own feelings.'

'May I kiss you first?' he asked.

'What has possessed you, Consort mine? You have given me more kisses tonight than in nine moons of coupling!'

'Perhaps I have only just discovered the sweetness of your lips.'

'An acceptable answer, I guess, but it sounds a little contrived.'

'I told you already not to trust me, Cybele. But did my kisses not seem true by the Harvester Moon?'

'What if Cabirius is somehow sensible despite appearance, might he not be jealous?'

'Well, then I would hope that that may equally break his stupour. I would count an eye blackened or a few broken bones a small price to pay for him to be roused from this slumber,' Attis stated with sincerity.

Cybele slipped from the table and reached her arms up around his neck. 'My, how you've grown,' she whispered, then kissed him deeply. He gently pulled her arms from around him, then looked into her eyes.

'Whatever happens, Cybele, know that on this night, I loved you. One day, you may be asked, so I thought I should tell it to you plainly.'

'By Cabirius?' she asked, understanding his meaning not.

'I know not yet the name,' he said, cryptically, then pushed her softly toward Cabirius. 'Now, do him your best.' Cybele awkwardly turned Cabirius on his stool to face away from the table. He was not at all paralysed, and moved capably when bidden. It was simply as though, like Kelle, he seemed to have no capacity for thoughts of his own. She gently slipped both her hands under his threadbare gown. She wondered if her desire to embrace him and weep into his chest was caused by love or just pity. She rubbed her hands up and down his thighs under his gown, kneeling in front of him, as though warming him. She had to keep herself from crying by force of will. She could look at his face no longer, it was an agony. She buried her face in his lap and bit her lip to stifle an unconscious sob. She felt a hand rest on the back of her head, and thought it sweet of Attis.

Without raising her head, she spoke gently to Cabirius, hoping he could understand. 'Remember you the first time you had me in your lap, Cabirius? When I first entered the Temple, and called you to me. The Novice made leader, demanding homage from her former tutor. Well, demanding a little more than homage, if I rightly remember, but getting it not. I was an innocent myself then, but eager to seduce you. I knew not what I did, and was not expecting the hot spurt of your seed down my throat.' At this, she was pulled forward slightly and felt a hardness against her cheek beneath his gown. She realised with an elated flash that it was Cabirius's own hand urging her toward his erection.

Her hands were still beneath his gown on his thighs, and she slipped them upward to his warm bristling pubis. She glanced upward to see if his gaze had altered, but to her disappointment, it had not.

'Keep to task, Cybele. He can hear you,' whispered Attis in support. She pulled his gown higher up his knees and bent to kiss his thighs.

The talk of past union had seemed to reach through to him, so she determined to continue. 'I knew not that a man spilled seed until you first burst into my mouth. I coped well with the surprise, think you not?' She felt the hand press her head in response. 'I wanted you to do more that morning, and I am sure you would have been able. Imagine that you had stayed a little longer in my room. If there had been no rule preventing it. Imagine that we could have done then what I am sure we both desired, that you had taken my maidenhead there and then.' She felt him swell beneath his gown, and pulled it up further to reveal his growing phallus. He was responding!

Attis spoke to Cabirius from behind her. 'Her maidenhead. It was I who broke her, Cabirius.' She wondered angrily why Attis interrupted to be so cruel, but then realised that if Cabirius roused in anger, it would be as well as if he roused in passion.

He continued, and Cybele realised that Cabirius's erection seemed to be reacting to Attis's very voice. 'I broke her while still moist from your own tongue. I wish that you had been there to watch.' Cybele sank her mouth over his phallus in one easy movement. He made no sound, but thrust upward and grasped her head with both his hands. He even struggled to his feet, pulling her upward, so that his weight rested on the edge of the firm bench. His small stool had rolled out of the way, and he started to breathe more heavily. 'Do you remember my kisses, Cabirius?' Attis demanded as Cabirius thrust more deeply into Cybele's throat. 'My own mouth? Do you wish that you had given me what I then wanted? Your seed would have been no surprise to me, it was what I most desired. When you lay asleep beside me in the Hall of Priests, I would slide my hand close to you to feel for your fluid. What if you had woken to find me quietly slipping down there? Would you have raised protest for all to hear, or let me suck silently until you spilt?'

Cabirius's response to Attis's seductive and melodic voice was undeniable. Cybele wondered if Cabirius was sensible of the fact that it was she who was suckling him, but then realised it mattered not. 'I think you would have raised no alarm,' Attis continued in a voice smooth as butter. 'You protested little in the Temple, when I took you with force. Force? No, the wrong term. You were then twice my build, and could easily have stopped me.' Attis now slipped off his gown to reveal his own erection which pointed upward toward the thatch. 'What think you of my build now, Cabirius? Few traces of the boy you knew.'

Cabirius let out a quiet moan, and Attis began to rub his own erection in long, slow strokes. Cybele pulled from Cabirius briefly to warn Attis, 'I think he means to spill.' Attis approached them and pulled Cybele to her feet without removing her mouth from Cabirius's thrusting manhood. He then pulled up her gown and guided his own erection into her from behind, so that she was being entered by both together.

'Let me know when, Cybele,' Attis ordered. She was well used to his ability to control his own peak, but never ceased to be amazed. It seemed as easy for him as snapping his fingers. She could taste seed leaking slowly into her mouth and knew that Cabirius was close to spilling. 'Ceres, send us sign,' Attis asked the Goddess in urgent prayer as he plunged into Cybele. 'We three are your trinity, give us your favour, return Cabirius to us. The triangle of your Choosing is now complete...' He reached forward and pulled Cabirius's head toward his own with both hands, then kissed him deep and roughly. Cybele made a stifled cry and Attis understood the meaning and let his own seed spill into her while he plunged his tongue deep into Cabirius's throat. Cabirius gasped for air, but was returning the passionate kiss. Cybele struggled also to breathe below. Suddenly, Cabirius went completely limp and slid to fall on the ground. In one sharp movement, Cybele pulled from Attis and fell to Cabirius's side.

'Dear Goddess! We've killed him!' she cried. Attis stood still, his turgid erection still throbbing in afterglow.

'I think not, Cybele. See, he breathes. He has merely fainted, and I think it will do him no harm for a little rest.' Cybele wondered furiously if the insensitive and cruel Attis of old had returned to replace the unfamiliar one of recent time. But she turned Cabirius to his side and found that it was true he had merely fainted. She suddenly felt ill from swallowing so much of the seed, and searched for something to drink. Attis looked deep in thought, as he stood naked with his phallus slowly softening. As she moved away, he knelt beside Cabirius and lifted one eyelid with his finger. She took up the cold tea from the tray beside the doorway to clear her mouth. As she lifted it to her lips, Attis turned to her with a sharp sudden cry.

'No !!'

'What has happened?' she cried back, thinking he meant of Cabirius.

'The sign! It is the tea, touch it not,' he called urgently. Cybele looked at the inoffensive bowl of watery stuff in her hands.

'What has possessed you, Attis? You frighten me.'

'So you should be afraid, with such sorcery afoot.'

'What mean you? You must explain.'

'I asked Ceres for a sign, to help him, as we made a sacred triangle in offering. I noticed it not at the time, for the memory was so subtle, but she sent it to me all the same. Smell the tea, or taste just a little on your finger. Does it seem familiar?'

She sniffed at it, then dipped and tasted her finger. 'It tastes of some earthy bark. I cannot think that I have tasted it before, though. What is it?'

'I tasted it as I... completed the triangle just now.'

'You do not need to deny to me or to yourself that you kissed him, Attis. You wished to kiss him, and he wished it of you.'

'Well, as I kissed him then. I did not even notice it at the time, it was more of an aftertaste. But becomes even more noticeable in my own mouth even now. I had tasted it but once before, but knew it then immediately as foul sorcery and spat it from my mouth.'

'What is it?' she demanded.

'If you remember not your childhood, Cybele, then this should be your first memory. That taste, and this hut,' he said ominously. She realised his meaning. It was the drink she was given in the long weeks of confinement when first she arrived on the Isle of the Moon as a child. It was part of the long process of Rebirth, where all previous memory was lost. And it was the taste on Cabirius's lips. She let out a sharp cry of horror.

'Why? Why would someone poison Cabirius to ruin his mind?'

'You have never believed the obvious answer about the children,' he said without complaint, 'so would you believe it now? Herbs do not only heal, Cybele.'

'Jenna?'

'But obvious answers are not always true. And I can think of no ready motive. I know of no definite connection between the two of them, Cabirius and Jenna.'

'Thomias could be the connection. I know not why, but I have some vague feeling of a link between Jenna and Cabirius's fellow teacher. He is well our enemy, and enemy to the Goddess, as is she. The two of them could well be allies. Or perhaps Jenna believes that Cabirius is guilty, and now poisons him in revenge. She has become guardian to the victim Kelle, after all.'

'Too watchful a guardian, in my opinion, who keeps the girl on a rope too short,' Attis observed.

'Think you she is using the poor senseless girl for her own purposes?'

'Kelle would be much to her taste, methinks, and in a most biddable and compliant state. The passive type appeal to some.'

Cybele's face suddenly brightened, like the sun from behind a cloud. 'Does the state of her trance not seem familiar to you? Did I not say that Cabirius was victim as much as Kelle?' she beamed.

Attis gaped. 'Of course! It was so obvious that I did not see. When we found her, she had the fluttering pulse and wide pupils of one in shock, and with the marks of the rape, we thought not to look for further cause. But it could well have been a deadly herb, or a mushroom of the type that brings visions and or madness. Jenna quickly gave her medicines to calm her, and it is in that state that she has remained for these past six moons. A calmness that borders on stupor. That is why she keeps the girl so close to her. That mind-numbing brew may clear the easily adapted mind of a small child, but for such strong-willed adults as Kelle and Cabirius, she must keep them with fresh dose.'

'But why, Attis? Why keep them both prisoners in their own minds? It would have been simpler surely to have tossed them into the sea once drugged, like poor Ioin.'

'Methinks that we seek a different culprit for that crime, who is less squeamish at death than the Priests' new God.'

'What mean you? I know so little of the Priests' God, apart from the fact that he is Priapus no longer and needs neither name nor Goddess beside him.'

'He is a bloodless God, who follows not a cycle like the Goddess. And when there is no chance to be reborn, then death is more feared. It is their greatest tenet of faith, to not cause death. Even to cause one's own death is a mortal crime.'

'So think you that Kelle and Cabirius have been given this living death to avoid the wrath of the new God?'

'I can see no other cause - certainly death would have been far simpler and had less risk. One day, Kelle and Cabirius may recover enough to tell their tale, now that we have chanced upon the poison.'

'But still, we have no reason. For Cabirius, perhaps. He was my closest counsel and most trusted friend. My leadership has suffered for lack of him, and this would well suit the new God's designs. But Kelle? She had spoken often in class of her desire to become a Healer, which was why none were surprised when Jenna took her in after the crime.'

'Perhaps she simply got caught and crushed under the wheels of their intrigue.'

'But why have we two not been struck down? We are for the Goddess more even than Cabirius, and surely a more direct threat to their plans,' she asked.

'Even they who now seek to deny the Goddess still fear her vengeance. He touched the bright crescent-moon birthmark on his own naked chest. 'This defends us better than any armour. There has been none with the mark since my mother's mother, until we two.'

'Is it true that your mother's mother was last Chosen One, then?' Cybele asked.

'Fifty summers ago. Yes.'

'Who was she?'

'Know you not? I am sure that you do. You have seen the book, and you feel the bond. You are my mother's mother, Cybele. That is why we both bear the mark, and why together we will make that which will resurrect the Goddess to full glory.'

'You speak in riddles, Attis.'

'I can speak it no plainer, Cybele. I know only that my part is now complete.'

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