Noelle of Nisos, Elsha Hawk [most motivational books TXT] 📗

sea itself, was wrapped about her and Amos, as he had stepped forward to take her hands. They faced each other, grinning like fools while the ancient words were said, the song of joining was sung by the crowd, and the plaster platter was presented for ceremonial breaking. Noelle gripped it lightly, allowing Amos to do most of the smashing, humble as a wife should be. The people cheered as they left hand in hand to an ancient chariot that had been kept in good repair just for weddings.

The chariot lurched. The old donkey pulling it was a calm animal but not graceful. The crowd of villagers followed, shouting, cheering, and making merry. From here, it seemed the village supported their coupling, but Noelle knew they just wanted to feast and dance and drink themselves silly.

At her home, her parents welcomed all the guests and told the band where to set up out on the open roofed verandah. Cyprus filled flagons over and over. Noelle knew he had sacrificed three goats for the wine and had watered it all down to fill the 6 small barrels he’d traded some cheese for with the chariot owner. Noelle was relieved to sit down, after each guest congratulated the couple in the front room and began to mingle. Families each broke a small clay dish out on the verandah in their honor. Their cheers and clapping and stomping began to make her head throb. She leaned her newly cropped head on Amos’s shoulder. The guests ooed and ahhed, knowingly pleased. Noelle hated the attention and the rib elbowing she spied every time she and Amos moved. It was like she was the spectacle of one continuous inside joke. She was tired of being ogled already, and the midnight bell was nowhere near to ringing out her departure.

Families with young children left first, needing to get them off to bed. Then the older couples whose bodies could not take the late hours anymore. Finally, only the few bachelors of the town were left. Drunken jesting and boasting echoed over the soft final strains of the last song. The band left the house with three large loaves and the last small barrel of the wine, standard payment. Vivienne flushed the few remaining guests out as she handed her daughter her dowry bundle.

“I’m going to miss your morning coffee, darling!” Her mother hugged her, sniffling back tears.

“You will take great care of her, Amos.” Cyprus shook the groom’s hand warmly, then pulled him into a hug. The two parents traded places for a second set of hugs.

“No matter what anyone says, you follow your heart, Noelle. Remember that; follow your heart.” This was her father’s favorite line recently. At first Noelle took it as his blessing that she should marry instead of join the temple, but now it seemed deliberate and out of place. This was her happily ever after, wasn’t it? What more could her heart want?

When she pulled back from the long embrace with her father, Noelle saw that her mother stood with the lantern at the front of the donkey chariot. She was ready to lead her to her new home. This procession was much quieter than the last.

In the past, the guests would leave and follow the couple to their new home, presenting presents to them and welcoming them to their new life. But presents became harder to come by and the tradition began to fade. The temple also began giving smaller food tithes to the bridal parents as food became more scarce. Now they don’t even offer it. Wedding celebrations became more of a time of wine drinking and dancing than a feast and gift giving gala. Noelle wondered what tradition would change next.

At their new home, the groom’s parents waited in the darkness. They presented the couple with olives and figs instead of oranges and dates. Nuts were not in season and the orange groves had dwindled as arable land grew scarcer. More hugging and tears filled the candlelit front room that smelled of fresh whitewash. The two sets of parents exchanged pleasantries and well wishes and commented on the fabulous match their children made. The bridal parents offered kindly to take the groom’s parents home in the chariot. Finally, the newlyweds were alone.

“I’m so glad that is over!” Noelle collapsed into a chair.

“Too much wine?” Asked her husband.

“Not enough!” giggled Noelle. “I am exhausted. All that attention has worn me out!”

“Well, there is a freshly stuffed mattress in the bedroom just waiting to be laid upon,” suggested Amos.

“Mmm, I hear it calling my name,” smiled Noelle. “Would you help me with my dress?”

Amos sucked in a breath as he helped his bride slip out of her white gown. She crawled into the bed and he stripped down and followed her under the quilt, even though the night was warm. Amos loved the feel of Noelle’s soft smooth skin against his. He wrapped his arm around her, pulling her tightly to him. He breathed in the lavender scent from the perfumed waters of the bath that lingered in her hair.

The sky was filled with stars, the night was silent and breezy, but all they had energy left to do was cuddle up together and sleep on the promise that morning would bring them happiness.
* * *
Darkness fell upon a couple of Grecian tourists who had rented a small skiff for a day of picnicking at sea in the warm waters of the Mediterranean. They hadn’t counted on the sudden August winds from the North that propelled them far from their small rented room in Anafi.

As they tried to battle the winds, a fierce storm blew up, spiraling them out further southwest. In a panic, the sails were not lowered in time and ripped to shreds. Waves tossed the boat like a toy. The now sodden couple could do nothing more than hang on until the storm passed.

Surprised at the sudden stop as the small craft was thrown upon a rocky beach in the pitch blackness, the weary couple unwrapped their numb arms from the rail. Using the last of his energy, the husband cut and dragged a bit of sail inland to drape between two rocks, forming a makeshift shelter. Exhausted, they dragged their bodies beneath it and slept. In the early morning gray, the husband awoke and pulled his fancy cell phone from the plastic bag he wisely tied around his waist and checked their location. Nisos Anydros, an island thought to be uninhabited.
Behind him sounded the crunch of sandals on rocky soil.

“Honey? Is that you?”

He squinted into the half-light, seeing a shadow move. Blinded by a sudden light, a lantern cover had been lifted, the yellow shaft cast upon him left those carrying it in darkness. A figure moved into the beam as his wife scrabbled from the shelter to crouch behind her husband.

“Are there only two of you?” a woman’s voice inquired in ancient Greek.

“Y-yes,” stammered the man. He gulped as two spearheads glinted in the glow of two more lanterns. Shadows moved beyond them. It seemed there stood an army before him. “Please, we were shipwrecked here. Do you have any food?”

“The goddess does not wish to be disturbed. Since you have no vessel with which to leave her island, you must be vanquished!”

“What does that mean?” The man leaned back to protect his wife with his body. The two spears lowered to point at the couple.

“You shall be a sacrifice to the goddess!”

The man frowned. He turned to look at his wife, whose face was pure anger rather than fear. Not to be outdone, he took on her countenance. “Very funny. Cut the drama and just let me call the Harbor Corps. I’m sure we’ll be out of your hair by lunch.” He held his cell phone up to his face.

“We do not welcome intruders. Guards!”

As the eastern sky turned into a dusky gray from merely dim, the man and his wife were silenced, their bodies thrown in the sea. Loud thumps and cracking wood echoed across the beach, sounds swallowed by the crash of the sea as the ship was dismantled and its parts carted off by the men. By sunrise, not a single splinter was left.

As a sliver of red-orange sun lit up the churning sea, a figure slid from a crack in the cliff face, ghosting up toward the village.
* * * * *
Talon paced outside the temple doors. His best friend was inside making a stupid decision. Getting married could endanger the whole mission. He wanted to stop the wedding, but could not jeopardize what he had spent the past 5 years working so diligently on. The last thing they needed was another person involved, especially her.

Talon had fallen head over heels for her the first time he’d seen her. Amos had been a nervous wreck, asking the younger friend for relationship advice he was in no position to give. Jealous, Talon had followed Amos, single wildflower in hand, as he bumbled over the words to say to Noelle under the archway outside of the temple library.

He had begun to steel himself to her beauty that day. The more she came around, the harder he pushed her away. He thought he’d given a pretty clear message that he was not interested in her. She was smitten with Amos anyway. He said the right things, amazed her parents, and was well-connected in the community. He was the image of ideal husband material of the village.

Noelle was not made of ideal wife material. The whole village was convinced she was temple material. She had perfect looks, was great at meditating, and dutifully performed any task she was given. The High Priestess chose the best looking young women for her personal entourage, giving them special duties that raised them above the rest. The village whispered that Noelle and her sister Fallina would both be chosen, making them the first siblings ever to serve and honoring their family greatly. The thought turned Talon’s stomach.

He had run into Noelle in the library more than once. She was betrothed, of course, so in an effort to push her away, he often played the opposite role to whatever she brought up. This only seemed to provoke her to action. The very thing he taunted her with, he would find her later researching it. That was the kind of person not destined for the temple. Too curious and the High priestess would get rid of her, somehow. That was the Noelle no one knew and that was the kind of person he did not need hanging around. The secrets he and Amos had so carefully hidden did not need to be exposed. If she ever found out, he’d have to protect her; and he didn’t trust himself with the job while his best friend was her husband.

Talon chose to slip inside the chapel where all the ceremonies had taken place since the Ancients had built it. Huge columns built from a white marble not even native to the island stood ironically over those that worshiped inside them; a society