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Cabirius did not go directly back to his hut. He knew that he was covered in Attis's seed, and had to wash. He slipped down toward the sea. In this chill Winter weather, none would be around, he thought. He skirted the grove and climbed over the few small rocks that edged the sandy beach. He slipped off his gown and boots and walked naked into the sea. The water was cold, yes, very cold, but he welcomed its bracing bite on his feet and ankles. Small waves lapped against his calves, and he felt as though all trace of his coupling with Attis was being washed away, as though he were being left clean and innocent of those furtive gropings. How had Attis seduced him so easily, when so many previous attempts had been rebuffed without difficulty? He remembered the talisman that had hung around Attis's neck, and wondered if indeed the younger Priest had used sorcery to ensure his compliance. No, that was unfair. Cabirius could not deny that he had in some way at least desired Attis for as long as he could remember. The sea was as cold as ice, but Cabirius strode in until he was waist-deep, then dived beneath a wave. He surfaced with bursting lungs and shook his hair. He felt clean and new, and ready to return to the hut and face Kelle as if nothing had happened. As he turned and began to wade back to the shore, he saw that he was being watched. Cybele, of all people, was sitting on the moist sand with his discarded clothing. There was no way to avoid her, so he grimly surged through the water toward her. The air felt even colder than the sea as he emerged from the water. A sharp stinging on his back reminded him that not all traces of Attis had been washed away by the salty ocean. "I saw you walk past the grove," Cybele said to him as he came within range of her. "Strange weather for swimming." "I feel the cold no more than a seal," he said in jest. "Your goose-flesh seems to, though," she observed as he stood naked in front of her, shivering uncontrollably. He realised that she was actually sitting on his gown. "May I?" he asked, indicating his clothing. Cybele did not move, but eyed him as though appraising a young bull. "Methinks perhaps your clothing needs a wash, also," she said, and he felt a sinking fear that she could indeed smell the traces of seed. Surely not, though, it was simply a guess, having caught him sneaking to the sea for a wash in such cold weather. "Cybele, I am cold now, and I would kindly ask that you pass me my gown," he said firmly, as though losing his patience with her teasing. She could know nothing for sure, not yet anyways. It may well be that Attis would tell her in detail what had occurred, but he would as yet have had no chance. She pulled herself awkwardly to her feet, then tossed him the gown. He slipped it over his lithe tall body and pulled on his boots over sandy feet. The gown was damp and plastered with sand. He looked an even more bedraggled mess than before his swim. "You look terrible," she observed with a smile. He made a contemptuous sound, then began to walk up the hill toward the village. Cybele called after him. "Attis is in danger." Cabirius span to face her. "What? Why?" "I was given a letter in which he was clearly threatened." "From whom?" "I know not, it was unsigned. They stated not their purpose, only their allegiance to me and their belief that Attis was my enemy." Cabirius looked at her incredulously. "Your enemy?" "Yes, and that if I would not be done with him, then the writer intended to do so for me." "We must warn him!" Cabirius said urgently. "He knows already, and has no regard for the threat. He only shrugged and told me he is in the Goddess's hands as always." "But it may not be the Goddess at work here." Cybele threw up her hands. "He would not listen to me. Perhaps you should seek him out and try to make him see sense. I believe that he is in danger." Her voice filled suddenly with emotion. "I do not know what I would do without him." "What would any of us do without him?" said Cabirius gloomily. Cybele came up to him and embraced him. He held her in his arms and gently patted her back. "I will find him, Cybele. I will protect him with my life. I would give my life to protect either of you, by the Goddess." They walked back up the hill hand in hand, and entered her hut by the outer door so that none would see them. They walked into darkness. The fire had gone out, and no lamps were alight. Cybele fumbled in the dark with a flint and lit a small oil lamp. In the gentle light, they saw that they were not alone. Attis sat on the bed glaring at them moodily. "Attis, my friend, how are you?" asked Cabirius. He half expected a reply of "no different to half a heartbeat ago when you suckled my phallus," but there was no such accusation. "Well, Cabirius, and you?" His tone was dark, and Cybele sensed some conflict between the two, but it seemed to quickly lighten. "Have you been for a walk in this charming weather?" "We were looking for you, Attis. I am worried about the threat," Cybele replied. "There is no need to concern yourself, dear Chosen One. I can well look after myself." With this, there was a swish and glimmer between them, followed by a resounding thud. Cybele and Cabirius looked behind, and a dagger vibrated in the timber of the doorframe. It had missed them both by a hand's span. "Very amusing, Attis," she said angrily. "You seem determined to turn all your friends to foe." He gave a chillingly deep laugh which resonated around the stone walls of the hut. "Argh! What am I to do with you?" said Cybele in frustration. "Do you not know?" he asked with a wicked grin. Cabirius stepped forward. "Attis, we are concerned. We all know how easily one can be poisoned or killed by some other surreptitious means." "My enemy is not Cerridwen," Attis replied without concern. "There is no subtlety in the means of my death." "See?" said Cybele to Cabirius. "He even sees his own death, but will not lift a hand to stay it." "Attis, be not so passive," Cabirius begged. "Passive, am I?" he asked, with an amused raise of his eyebrow. "You know well what he means," Cybele said. "You act as if you would not move a muscle if someone came up and tried to slit your throat." "If I know that I shall die anyways, why bother to run?" he replied. "You said that you serve me, Attis. Then why do you torment me so in this regard?" "What serves you best is not necessarily what you desire for yourself," he replied evenly. "What mean you? How could I be served by your death?" Oblivious of Cabirius's presence suddenly, she pleaded with Attis. "I love you." He did not reply, but sprung from the bed and left by the garden door. Cybele went to follow, but Cabirius caught her by the arm. "I will go, I think I can make him listen," he said forcefully. She relented, and Cabirius ran after the younger Priest. Cybele was left alone in the hut, and took the gold coin of her father from a box beside the bed. She clutched it to her chest as she lay on the bed, and tried to summon a vision. All she saw, though, was darkness swirling about her, licking at her with icy flames. Beside the Temple, Cabirius caught up with Attis. Attis did not slow, so Cabirius caught him roughly by the back of his gown. "We must talk," he demanded, and pulled Attis into the empty Temple. Cabirius closed the heavy door behind them and turned to face the other Priest. "What is happening, Attis? What is it all about? I should have known something was amiss when you sought me out this morning." Attis stared at him, his dark eyes flashing. "Speak to me!" Cabirius demanded, and his voice echoed around the hollow building. "What is there to say?" Attis said with quiet intensity. "That I shall die? We all must die, Cabirius. Even the Gods are not truly immortal." Cabirius could think of no reply, and leaned forward to kiss Attis's lips. Attis had also washed, but there was still the vague bittersweet taste of seed in his mouth. "But why must you die now?" Cabirius whispered. Attis smiled. "Not quite yet, I have a pulse still," he said lightly, and pulled Cabirius's fingers up to feel the throbbing artery in his throat. "You know well what I mean," Cabirius replied angrily. "We do not want to lose you." "We? Speak to me not of the wants of others." "I, then. I do not want to lose you. I love you, Attis." "That sounds familiar somehow," he said with an ironic smile, and walked away from Cabirius toward the altar. When he reached it, he turned back to face Cabirius who stood still beside the door. "Bolt it," he called across the vast empty space. Cabirius did as he was instructed, then walked toward the altar. "Why must you die?" Cabirius said in a deep voice as he walked toward the younger Priest. "Because if I do not, I will breed a whole litter of followers of the Crone. I have the wolf within me, and with each Full Moon I have less and less control." "Shape-shifting?" Cabirius asked, slack-mouthed. "I know not. I know only that I am unable to resist any longer the urge to run into the forest and couple with the pack." "Can Cybele do nothing?" "I am afraid I may hurt her if she tries. They have tried to kill her before now, remember. If I continue to refuse them what they seek, they will try again." "So this was what the letter said? It spoke of your bond with the Crone?" Attis nodded silently in reply. "There must be something we can do," Cabirius protested. "It will be resolved," Attis said gently. "By your death? Over my dead body!" Attis turned angrily to Cabirius. "No!" he cried. "Never say that! It is you who must continue on. You, who are so good and pure. Your death would accomplish nothing. Say you will not risk your own life for anything!" He shook Cabirius by the shoulders. "Not for me, not for Cybele, not for anything! Say it!" Cabirius pulled back far enough to swing a fisted blow at Attis's chin. The force of the blow swung Attis around against the altar. He turned back to face Cabirius. "I need your co-operation, Cabirius, not your blows." "You wish to die!" Cabirius said hoarsely, rubbing his fist with his other hand. "No, but I will not resist it. And you have a part to play in my resurrection." "What mean you? You speak always in riddle." "You will know, when the time comes. And now, can I ask a favour of you?" "Anything." "Never say that before you hear the request, Cabirius. You are too trusting for your own good." "I would gladly give you anything, Attis." Attis reached down beside the altar and opened a pot of woad. "I seem to have left my knife behind..." he said. Cabirius pulled his own from his belt. "Here." "Thank you. I want you to give me the mark of Priapus yourself." "But I am no artist, and I would also be afraid to hurt you." Attis laughed. "It will hurt just as much nomatter who does the cutting!" "Kelle would know of some herb no numb the pain. We could ask her..." "I do not mind pain, Cabirius." "I mind causing it!" "Then I promise not to cry out." He turned to face Cabirius and jumped to sitting on the altar, then pulled up his gown to show his phallus. Cabirius touched it lightly, as though inspecting how best to start. "I cannot do it," he said. "Of course you can," Attis said then leaned forward to kiss him again. "I think I may even enjoy it. But look, you will have to make it erect first or it will be impossible." Cabirius reluctantly massaged it slowly until it reached nearly its full size. "Do you wish me to make the first cut?" Attis offered. Cabirius nodded, and Attis took the sharp knife and slit a diagonal cut in his own flesh. It oozed blood slightly, and Attis continued to drag the blade around until he could reach no further underneath. "You will need to take over now," he said gently. He had seemed barely even to flinch, and Cabirius took the dagger and continued the bloody line around the phallus. It did not even soften as Cabirius had expected with the pain. As he cut the skin, Attis rubbed blue woad stain into the line to make the mark permanent. It seemed to take forever but in the whole time, Attis's erection did not flag. Finally, it was finished. They rubbed the woad deep into the oozing wounds, until his entire phallus was blue, with the snake clear and dark. "Do you wish now to make mine?" Cabirius asked, as he washed his hands in a bowl of water beside the wall. "No, I think it would be best left to your lover who knows so much of herbs." "It did hurt you, then?" Cabirius asked him with concern. Attis smiled at him. "I live." "Do not joke about such things, Attis, else I will cut your throat myself!" Attis laughed, and Cabirius joined in reluctantly. "You have done a beautiful job, Cabirius, but it is not my final request of you," Attis said with a seductive laugh. "What do you want now?" Cabirius asked in mock exasperation. Attis looked at him with sudden seriousness. "I want you to be Consort, and I the Goddess." "What? What mean you?" "What do you think I mean? I want you to couple with me. Here, on the altar of Ceres." "That is blasphemous!" cried Cabirius. "I understand the Goddess's will better than you know, Cabirius. It is she who asks it of me." "Surely not. Cybele is Chosen One, and you are Consort." "Come now, you know as well as I that Cybele is not the only one who couples on this altar as the Goddess. Every Priestess takes turn." "Exactly, every Priestess. Not Priest! Have you forgotten that it is a phallus you have, Attis, not a passage?" "We all have a passage, Cabirius, and women have two." "You mean you... want me to... couple with you... there?" Cabirius said in clear disgust. "It is not so unlike a woman, I assure you." "Yes, well you would probably know better than I. My experience is very limited, and limited to women at that." "I thought you said you would give me anything?" Attis said harshly. "That is unfair! I knew not what you wished of me." "So I warned you. You made a promise before you asked terms. You were foolish, and now I demand the debt be fulfilled." "But I cannot do it, Attis. I just cannot do it." Attis smiled slyly. "Of course you can, Cabirius. And you know what frightens you? You will enjoy it. You love Kelle, but you want to shove your erection into my behind." "You disgust me," said Cabirius angrily. "Do I?" asked Attis with a wicked smile. Cabirius caught his breath. He could not believe that his body was rebelling against his own preference and judgement, and swelling beneath his gown. "I know you want it as much as the Goddess does," Attis told him. "And you?" Cabirius asked. "What do you think?" Attis said, and pulled his gown up to reveal his huge blue erection. "You are a witch, Attis," Cabirius cursed, but moved forward. Attis moved forward to the edge of the heavy stone altar, and Cabirius gripped him behind as he spread his long legs up over Cabirius's arms. Attis let his body fall back so that he was lying on the altar, and looked away from Cabirius. "You will need some oil," he said, with a small hint of something approaching shame in his voice. Cabirius reached down beside the altar and found another jar. This one was filled with a mixture of mulberry juice and almond oil, and was used for Initiation ceremonies in which virgins were broken with a Herm. He smeared the thick oil on his pulsing erection, then turned back to Attis. He gripped Attis firmly by the hips and touched the head of his phallus to the young Priest's body. Attis's opening twitched in response. "Are you sure?" Cabirius whispered, as Attis seemed suddenly quiet. "Yes. Do you mind if I say the Great Marriage?" "If that is what She tells you to do," Cabirius said gently. He marvelled at how Attis had managed to turn the situation so expertly that Cabirius felt as though he had initiated it, and Attis was the one merely complying. He entered Attis with a strong thrust, and the Priest let out a small whimper, then began to recite the words of the Great Marriage service. "Hebe, Hera, Hecate..... I am one, but I am... three..." Attis gasped for breath in between Cabirius's strong thrusts, as though this caused him far more pain that the blade on his phallus had done. "Virgin was, and Mother... be... but in the third... then... death is me.." Cabirius had never truly listened to the words of the service, even though he had witnessed it many times. The words stuck him as darkly ominous in this context, but he continued thrusting. Attis's voice was quiet and high, as though intended for no-one's ears but the Goddess. "Stain my altar.." It was certainly stained, freshly with woad and now the mulberry with which Cabirius had lubricated his erection. "Drink my blood... I bring you feast... I bring you flood... I bring you life... deny me not... guard well the child... that I begot... for birth... is earth on which... we dwell... and without... me... all is Hel." Cabirius had never been able to hold very long, and Attis made no move to assist him in delaying his peak, as he had done earlier that morning. He spilt suddenly and without warning, then quickly withdrew and turned away from Attis until he had pulled down his gown and sat upright. "Do you hate me so much?" Attis asked him quietly. "I hate myself," Cabirius replied, then hung his head in both hands. "I am sorry I drove you to it," Attis told him tenderly. "When the Goddess makes a demand of me, I will do anything in my power to fulfil her wish. I have used you unfairly. She has used us both unfairly." "I wish I could believe you, but you spoke truthfully before. I wanted to do it. Not for the Goddess, not even for you, but for myself." Cabirius bowed his head in shame. "And who do you think planted you with the desire to do so? Think you the Goddess is open and honest when she makes demands of us? No, she disguises them as our own will and wish, lest we think to rebel." "You say you are no politician, Attis. But you could convince the stars to stand still in the sky, or the sun to rise in the west." "And I could convince you to hate me, when all I truly want is your friendship," Attis said to him gently. "I am your friend still. Just give me time to recover." "I mean not to remind you, Cabirius, but there is not much time left." "When is it to be?" Cabirius asked him, finally meeting his gaze. "I think it is better if you do not know, else you would feel bound to intercede, and I wish that not." Cabirius took him by the hand and pulled him forward to the floor. Attis's legs buckled a little, and Cabirius went to support him. "By the Goddess, did I hurt you?" Cabirius asked with concern. "No," Attis replied, "You have healed many of my hurts this day." He kissed Cabirius on the cheek as a friend, and they walked to the door. As they reached the door of the Temple, Cabirius asked Attis quietly, "The words of the Marriage. Guard well the child. Is that what you wish of me? To guard your child?" Attis smiled at him, but did not answer. They did not see the curtain behind the altar move as Cabirius closed the heavy wooden door of the Temple, nor the figure slip quietly away from the small side door.
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