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THE ENLIGHTENMENT
BOOK 2 OF THE BLOODMOON WARS SERIES ( A
PARANORMAL SHIFTER ROMANCE SERIES)
SARA SNOW
 CONTENTS

1. Elinor
2. Cyrus
3. Cyrus
4. Elinor
5. Will
6. Elinor
7. Elinor
8. Cyrus
9. Elinor
10. Elinor
11. Elinor
12. Cyrus
13. Elinor
14. Skye
15. Elinor
16. Skye

The Bloodmoon Wars Continues…

Also By Sara Snow
Enjoy This Book? I would love to hear from you…
About the Author
 1

ELINOR

I clenched my fists to stop my hands from trembling.

Connor, now in his wolf form, was looking at Will with
murder in his black eyes while I stood there, panicked.
Large droplets of rain fell around us as thunder rumbled loudly
above.
The sensation of having Will’s lips on mine faded, washed away
by the realization that my world was about to come crumbling down.
An Alpha-born werewolf—yes, me—caught kissing a vampire. If
anyone ever found out about this, life as I knew it would be over. My
actions would bring disgrace to the Blackwood name and subject our
pack to ridicule. And worse, if Connor didn’t kill Will, my father
surely would. Then he’d probably kill me as well.
What have I done?
Connor growled as he lowered his head to the ground, his fur
ruffling as the surrounding wind blew stronger. I looked at Will and
frowned at the calm expression on his face. He didn’t seem bothered
or the least bit frightened. Instead, he just stood there and stared at
Connor without even blinking.
Connor bared his fangs.
I stepped forward, my hands raised. "Connor, listen to me. You
didn't need to signal the others. I’m not in danger. Please, let me
explain what you just saw.”
He growled at me and snapped his jaws. It was clear he wasn’t
interested in listening to my explanation. He rushed forward with a
guttural growl. Beside me, Will became a blur, and before I could
stop him, he ran at Connor. I watched in horror as the two men—or
rather, one vamp and one wolf—collided.
My hand flew to my mouth as Connor’s large teeth missed Will’s
throat by an inch.
“Connor! Will! Stop this!” I yelled, but neither of them was
listening to me. “Please stop!”
As the Beta of my pack, it was Connor’s job to keep the peace.
While my father sat at the head of our pack, Connor was at the very
end, keeping everything together. He held immense power, carrying
out my father's orders and overseeing the pack when my father was
away.
He had howled the moment he’d found me with Will. More
wolves from my pack would arrive any minute. I reached behind me
to remove my dress. Perhaps if I shifted and tried to end their fight
in my wolf form, it would work.
I looked up when I heard a loud whimper—Will had thrown
Connor against the trunk of a tree. I watched as the pack Beta slid
down the trunk to the ground but was back on his feet swiftly. He
snarled loudly as he circled Will, his eyes never leaving Will’s face.
He was obviously looking for an opening to attack, but even with
Will's back to me, I realized there wouldn’t be one. There was a dark
aura around Will that I'd never seen before. He stood there, rooted
in one place, as Connor circled him.
Connor rushed forward, then to my surprise, he froze mid-attack.
I frowned as I watched him. Connor was still looking straight at Will,
but he didn’t move a muscle. Will took one step forward and then
another, and my frown deepened.
Will spoke, his words a mumbled whisper not even I was able to
hear.
What in Goddess’s name he is doing?
My hand fell to my side as I forgot about shifting. What was
happening, and why had the fight stopped so suddenly? However,
my confusion increased further when Will turned away from Connor
and began walking towards me.
 Behind him, Connor shook his head for a moment, then closed
his eyes and lifted his head up to the sky, howling long and hard. He
was telling the wolves he’d previously summoned that all was well
and there was no need for them to come.
My eyes moved back and forth between him and Will.
“What’s going on?” I asked Will as he drew closer. “What did you
do?”
He said nothing in response as he walked towards the cliff, his
hand brushing against mine as he passed me.
“Will?”
He strolled off the cliff without so much as a glance backward.
What the hell?
I turned around to find that Connor had already shifted into his
human form. He pinched the bridge of his nose for a moment, his
brows tightly knitted. “Connor? A-are you okay?”
He looked up, and his hand fell away from his face as he nodded.
“Yes, I’m fine.” He glared at me as his lips tightened, and my eyes
widened. “What the hell were you doing? I thought you were going
to fall over the cliff. Have you completely lost your mind?”
Um, what?
I said nothing, just stared at him in confusion. Did he hit his head
or something during the fight?
He arched a brow at me, as if I was the one acting out of
character. “I thought you had slipped . . .” He shook his head as he
looked down at his bare chest and then at his ripped shirt on the
ground. “You’re buying me another shirt.”
“So . . . you thought I was going to fall off the cliff?” I asked
hesitantly. He nodded. “Yeah, I was patrolling the woods when I
picked up on your scent. Why are you so far off our territory
anyway? Come on, let’s go.”
He turned to leave, but I was still in shock and unable to move.
What had Will done to him? It was as if someone had wiped and
replaced his memory. Were vampires capable of doing something
like that?
I remembered a rumor circulating a few years ago saying
vampires were capable of compelling their victims to make them
compliant. There were so many stories about vampires, nobody was
really sure what was true and what was not.
But compulsion was the only answer I could come up with right
now. What else could it have been?
I glanced at the cliff behind me and listened to the sound of the
rushing waves rolling up from below. I’d only known Will for a short
time, but he’d gotten under my skin so quickly and so easily. Yet I
knew so little about him. I reached up and touched my lips, closing
my eyes.
I came to our spot tonight to tell him we couldn’t see each other
anymore—that I was now promised to another. And then he’d kissed
me.
I opened my eyes and groaned with annoyance. Because I’d
kissed him back. I’d wanted it—craved it—and now that it was over, I
wanted more.
There was nothing to be done for it now. I turned around to
follow Connor, lost in thought as we walked to my house in silence.
One thought kept replaying in my mind, in a constant loop. Will had
saved my life, and after that, I'd been unable to get him off my
mind. Had he compelled me to believe I had feelings for him?
This was probably why vampires and werewolves didn’t mix.
Actually, this was probably why vampires and any species didn’t mix.
I sighed as my house came into view.
Again, I wondered . . . what if my feelings weren’t real? What if
Will had compelled me to want to be with him?
And if that was the case, what was I going to do about it?

Skye

I dropped the potatoes I had just bought into the bag that
Cyrus was carrying for me. We walked from vendor to
vendor, and soon, I only had one item left to get.
 "There is literally no one selling peaches," I grumbled under my
breath as I looked around the market. "I can't leave without them."
"It's getting late, Skye. I can return tomorrow to get some for
you," Cyrus offered, but I shook my head. Peaches were my
absolute favorite fruit.
“You know I can’t leave without them. Mom said she’d made pie
if I brought some home,” I grumbled. He sighed heavily.
I arched a brow at him, at the annoyance on his face, and
cleared my throat. "You offered to come with me, Cyrus. You could
have waited for me at the house."
“Such an appreciative woman,” he growled sarcastically as he
walked off. I followed him, still scanning the market for peaches.
“I see you two are still inseparable,” a voice said from behind me.
I turned around to see Yathleen—an elf known for her potent
healing herbs—smiling at me. “I’ve yet to get used to your friendship
—a demon and a werewolf.” She shook her head, then narrowed her
eyes. “Where is the third?”
“Oh, Elinor is at home. She’s been pretty busy lately,” I answered.
Yathleen smiled again. “I see.”
“So,” I grinned. “Do you have anything for me?”
Her long white hair blew wildly in the wind while my short dark
curls only moved a little. And her milky white skin was a distinct
contrast to mine. We looked like we lived on two different worlds.
“Of course,” she answered, her soft eerie voice, a given for all
elves, caressing my ear.
She reached into the basket in her hand and pulled out a bunch
of herbs tied together with a string. Even though werewolves usually
healed on their own, training to become a pack doctor included
learning about herbal medicines. Some wounds were beyond a
werewolf’s natural healing abilities, and we occasionally needed to
use supplemental treatments.
“Thank you.” I told her as I gave the herbs to Cyrus, who was
waiting impatiently behind me. He was usually easygoing, so I
couldn’t help but wonder what his problem was. I paid Yathleen, and
we said our goodbyes.
“Hey, what’s going on with you?” I asked him.
 He shook his head. “Nothing, I . . .” he sighed. “I need to feed.”
My brows arched at that as heat crept up my cheeks. As an
incubus, Cyrus was forced to feed on the sexual desires of others in
order to survive. Of course, the moment he said those words, I
instantly recalled him feeding on me—and the kiss we shared
afterward.
I cleared my throat. “I see. Well, um, we can take care of that
when we get home.”
His chuckle stopped me in my tracks. I glared up at him.
“You’re cute when you get flustered, Skye.” He leaned in, his face
just inches from mine. “I can go without feeding tonight, but I need
to take care of it soon. But look, I think what you’re looking for is
right behind you.”
I turned around, suddenly needing some distance between us.
“Oh, there they are.”
I walked away without saying another word, but I could feel his
eyes on me. Cyrus and I talking about things like this—out in the
open—could be a problem. No one knew about the feelings we had
for each other, and it had to stay that way. Although my pack openly
welcomed Cyrus despite his demon heritage, a romantic relationship
between us would push the boundaries of that goodwill past the
breaking point.
"Cyrus!" I heard a small voice call out as I took the bag of
peaches from the vendor I had been chatting with.
I turned around and found Cyrus circled by kids. They were all
talking at once, each one wanting his full attention. I remained
where I was as they bombarded him with questions until a female
centaur and elf joined them. I smiled at a little boy who was sitting
on the back of the centaur, stealing shy glances at Cyrus.
The half-woman, half-horse supernatural used her tail to gently
slap the boy on her back. "Still too shy to speak to Cyrus, are you,
David?”
Cyrus smiled as he moved closer to better see the human boy
who only tried to hide further. I chuckled to myself and Cyrus turned
to me. His piercing grey eyes stared into mine for a moment and my
heart skipped a beat before I hurriedly looked away.
 I’d known for a long time that Cyrus spent hours at an
orphanage for both the human children and supernatural ones here
in town during his free time. But I’d never actually seen him with the
kids. I watched him smile as he picked up a boy and girl, balancing
one on either hip easily.
It was obvious he loved children, and they adored him. Even the
young pups in my pack were obsessed with him. It was just more
proof of that Cyrus was special. He had saved my life back when we
were kids and had earned a place among my pack, though he was a
demon. Every day, he proved that he was one of a kind.
Yet I knew he still had those primal demon urges. But didn’t we
all have a little darkness within us?
After a moment, the elf and woman who ran the orphanage pried
the children away from Cyrus. Waving his goodbyes to them, he
returned to my side.
“I have an idea,” I said, ignoring the way he narrowed his eyes.
“Do you remember telling me you felt as if you don’t have a purpose
here?” His eyes narrowed further as he took the bag of peaches
from me. “Well, I think you should teach the pups in our pack.”
He paused. “Come on, Skye, don’t play around. I thought you
were being serious there for a minute.”
“I am! Just hear me out, okay? You’re great with children, so
you’d be a natural teacher. Why not help the pups in my pack? They
don’t start learning about dark creatures until they’re in their teens.
And even then, they only learn to fear those creatures, or worse,
hate them—even though they see you, a demon, around all the
time. You can educate them about all supernaturals, while also
showing them that not all creatures classified as dark are evil.”
I could see the wheels turning in his head as he glanced from
side to side. "I admit, that's not a bad idea. But Alpha Grayson will
have to agree to something like that. Sure, I'm allowed onto pack
territory freely and all, but I'm not exactly a part of the pack."
I rolled my eyes. “My mother raised you on pack territory. You’re
one of us, and you know it. I’m sure Alpha Grayson will see that my
idea is brilliant because hey, I’m brilliant. Now, I think I spotted a
merchant selling grapes over there. Wait here, will you?”
 Recently, Cyrus had confessed to me he felt he added nothing to
the pack, that he had no real purpose. True, he didn’t have a job,
per se, and was more of a wanderer. Still, I’d be damned if I allowed
him to think he didn’t belong with us. His habit of not feeding—even
when he was starving—drove me crazy enough as it was.
Escaping the Demon Realm as a child and being raised by
werewolves had been hard on Cyrus. When his urge to feed first
emerged, he had to leave us. Elinor, my mother, and I were at a loss
as to how to help him, and we were also at risk of being affected by
his uncontrollable power. We had no choice but to let him go. After
he returned several months later—in full control of his abilities and
thirst—he refused to discuss where he’d been and what he’d done
while he was gone. But he’d found his control somewhere.
Over time, I decided it was best I didn't know. But if he became
a teacher and worked around children daily, he'd have no choice but
to remain fed. Even though he didn’t grow up in the Demon Realm,
he was well-educated and well-traveled. The pups would learn a lot
from him.
A tingle went down my spine at the memory of us lying on the
floor of my house.
I shook my head as night drew closer and darkness steadily
settled over the world.
“Thank you,” I said as I took the grapes from the elderly human
merchant.
She nodded, and I walked back to Cyrus. The first vendor I had
come across had been selling her grapes for far too much money.
So, after asking Cyrus to wait on me, I was forced to make my way
through an alley to the other side of the market. That had been over
ten minutes ago. Still, since Cyrus hadn’t shown up yet to drag me
home, I guessed I was safe from his wrath.
I just knew it pissed him off, though. I really hadn’t planned on
staying out this long.
“Hey gorgeous, need some company?”
I stopped in my tracks, turning around quickly to see two
humans walking towards me. I rolled my eyes as I shook my head.
“You fools have a death wish? Go mess with someone else.”
 Even someone without heightened senses like mine would’ve
been able to smell the stench of alcohol on the two men as they
kept moving towards me, wearing in dirty rags that somehow passed
for clothing. “I said get lost!” I growled. My brown eyes changed to
black as my fangs elongated, and they took a step back, finally
seeming to realize the danger they were in.
Supernaturals and humans in this town lived in harmony most of
the time, but occasionally someone stepped out of line and caused
friction between the two species. I had no intention of being the one
to start anything, even if these fools were the aggressors.
My nostrils flared as I picked up on the scent of a third human,
but when I spun around, it was too late. I gasped as something
sharp pricked my neck. When I quickly pulled the object out of my
skin, I saw it was a needle coated in a green substance.
My eyes fell on the human that had sneaked up on me, his wide
grin revealing rotten teeth.
“You men are scum—” I said, but before I could finish, my legs
buckled. My eyes became blurry as I fell to the ground. I paled at
the sound of the sickening laughter coming from the three men.
No, no . . . this can’t be happening!
I tried to call on my wolf to shift, but the numbness in my legs
was steadily spreading to the rest of my body. A gust of wind blew
dust into my eyes, making me squint as I fell helplessly to the side,
my head hitting the ground hard.
A guttural growl echoed around me, and I fought against the
urge to close my eyes. The sound wasn’t the growl of a werewolf,
but an anguished sound that made goosebumps sprout on my skin.
Then red wings came into view.
I marshalled all my rapidly diminishing strength. “Cy-Cyrus.” It
came out no louder than a whisper.
A burst of heat engulfed me. I forced my eyes open as a man on
fire fell to the ground a few steps away from me. His frantic screams
filled the night.
“You fuckers! How dare you hurt her!”
I frowned inwardly—that deep baritone voice sounded familiar,
but at the same time, it was like nothing I'd ever heard before. Even
with my body numb, I felt a chill in the air. It was seeping into my
skin. I fought to move my head, and finally, Cyrus came into view.
My heart skipped a beat at the man—no, the beast—standing
before me. This wasn't a form he’d ever transformed into before—
not one I’d ever seen, at least. He seemed taller, his wingspan wider
than ever, and his fiery-red eyes appeared almost sinister. This
wasn’t the Cyrus I knew and loved.
I watched in fascination as the black tattoos covering his body all
seemed to be moving towards his face.
The man he was holding up by the throat—the one who had
given me a shot of something dangerous—was gasping for air.
Cyrus's head tilted to the side as he watched the man die slowly,
gasping for air, his legs dangling high above the ground.
Cyrus.
There was a crackling sound, and I cringed as I realized it was
the sound of my attacker's bones breaking. Cyrus had released him,
but he remained suspended in the air. The man’s legs and arms bent
and twisted in unnatural directions as his panicked screams filled the
surrounding air.
“You will never lay hands on another woman again,” Cyrus said,
his voice thundering through the alley.
If I’d been able to move or speak, I would have gasped as the
man exploded into a cloud of dust before my very eyes. Unable to
take any more, I let my eyes finally close. I welcomed the darkness
beyond my eyes as I felt the warmth from Cyrus's body.
“Stay with me, Skye.” I felt him pick me up. Then we rose into
the sky. I whimpered, sensing my heartbeat growing weak. “Please,
just stay with me.”
CYRUS
 A FEW WEEKS PRIOR

I inhaled deeply and noted how different the air was in the
Underworld, compared to Earth. Here, power vibrated
within the air, almost as if it was begging to be siphoned
and used by the demon inhabitants. The air on Earth held less
magic, felt lighter. Although I could pull less power from in the air on
Earth, I still missed it. And I wanted to go back, now. I had no
interest in playing the devoted son at my father’s ball.
And that was the problem. Here in the Demon Realm, those who
had the most power felt the weight of the magic in the air more.
And I felt it so much, I could hardly breathe.
I watched as demon after demon made their way into my father’s
castle. I could hear the music from inside the towering monstrosity
easily, along with the loud chatter and laughter of people I didn’t
know.
I inhaled deeply and exhaled heavily. This night would end badly.
How could it not? I was the Demon King’s son, but I lived on Earth.
No doubt someone was going to say something to piss me off.
My father had a lot of children. But because I’d chosen to live
elsewhere, I was the notorious one. Although my mother, with her
endless rambling about me one day taking over her Legion of
demons, didn’t help matters. Still, I had no interest in becoming the
next embodiment of Lust.
I slowly started making my way towards the dark castle. Black
clouds hung low above the stronghold as thunder rumbled in the
distance. How dramatic! It wasn’t as if the entire Demon Realm was
this gloomy, but of course, the Demon King made his home on a
mountain surrounded by lava.
I crossed the obsidian bridge as lava poured on either side of it.
Finally, I made it inside, surprised to discover that the inside looked
nothing like I expected.
Yes, this was the first time I’d ever seen my father’s home. My
high and mighty sperm donor might have done his part to bring me
into this world, but that was about the only thing he’d done for me.
Besides, the children he’d sired outside of his marriage to the
Demon Queen were of little interest to him. Everyone knew that. So
why the sudden interest in me?
While darkness shrouded the castle outside, the inside was much
brighter and smacked of luxury. Glistening crystals covered a
massive chandelier hanging high above a grand entrance, providing
brilliant illumination without any candles. The radiant light reflected
off the pure white marble of the elegant double staircases to my left.
Immaculately dressed demons chatted amongst each other as
they openly admired the luxurious surroundings.
All right, the sperm donor has taste. I'll give him that.
Since most of the guests were making their way to the second
floor, I figured that had to be where the ballroom was. And the
second floor was just as grand as the first. A large fountain with a
sculpture of Queen Asura at its center met me at the top of the
staircase. I'd never met the Demon Queen, but I'd heard rumors of
her beauty.
Still, I’d thought she’d be taller. I walked away, supposing tonight
I'd get to see her in person. I didn't expect to speak to my father, let
alone get close to him or the Queen. The only reason I was here
was to put in an appearance, as mother wanted me to, then leave as
soon as the opportunity arose.
“Wow, if it isn’t Cyrus. How nice of you to grace us with your
presence, brother.”
I sighed, then turned around and came face to face with one of
my positively delightful half-brothers. Orias, as the second son of the
King and Queen, wasn’t the heir to the throne but acted as if he
was. We’d only met a few times, but his hatred for me was clear.
The feeling was mutual. His spoiled and entitled behavior made me
sick—and I wasn’t alone in thinking that. In fact, I was sure most of
the nobles in the Demon Realm would agree with me.
“Half-brother,” I corrected.
He waved his hand dismissively. "Of course, what else could you
be?" His bald head reflected the light from above and was more than
a little distracting. "I wasn't expecting to see trash like you here. You
really didn’t have to come tonight, Cyrus. No one would’ve missed
you."
I tilted my head to the side and smiled. “I think those succubi
behind you are making fun of your hair . . . or lack of it.” Sure
enough, all three women erupted into laughter when he looked
around. He narrowed his pale green eyes at me, but I didn’t care.
He wasn’t worth my time. “Don’t worry, Orias. I’m sure our father’s
ballroom is big enough that we won’t have to breathe the same air.”
Demons were stopping to watch our little altercation—exactly the
situation I’d wanted to avoid. I turned to walk away when I felt him
grab my elbow. My rage flared, and I clenched my fists once and
then released them. I wasn’t about to let him provoke me. So I took
a deep breath and tried to calm down instead.
His face twisted with hate. “There it is . . . that fucking smug
attitude. You’re not as strong as you think, Cyrus. And don’t think
that just because you inherited our father’s wings, you’re special.
You’re nothing.”
Does this man-child really think he has what it takes to one day
be the Demon King?
I said nothing in response as I stared at his fingers still wrapped
around my arm. I pulled out of his hold, then glared at him, letting
him know with a glance just how little I thought of him. Though he
was on the bulky side and had strong fire magic, this fool wasn’t
strong enough to beat me if it came to a fight.
And he knew it.
He hated me since the moment we’d first met—the moment he
realized that I inherited our father’s signature red wings . . . and he
hadn’t. “I don’t have time for this, Orias. Go have a hissy fit about
some other unnecessary shit elsewhere. I thought you would have
grown up by now.”
“Who do you think you are?” he growled as his eyes changed to
black.
The surrounding demons gasped, and a new power filled the air.
Behind Orias, a woman appeared out of thin air, her red hair flowing
down to her ankles. She looked at Orias, and then at me, before her
red painted lips slowly curved into a smile.
“Mother?” Orias said, then turned around and slowly bowed his
head. All the demons around us did the same.
I bowed my head as well, when suddenly, I felt a hand on my
shoulder. How had she moved so quickly?
“Don’t pick fights you can’t win,” she whispered, her voice soft
and melodic.
Huh?
As I looked up, my brows furrowed. I realized that while her
hand was on my shoulder, she was looking at Orias. His green gaze,
so like hers, fell to her hand on my shoulder, and his eyes slowly
widened with shock.
“Mom, what are you doing?” he asked through clenched teeth, as
the Queen’s hand fell away from my shoulder.
“This is a party, Orias—your father’s party. What are you doing,
causing a scene like this? Leave and come back when you’re thinking
clearly. Or would you rather I tell your father you’ve chosen this
moment to have one of your tantrums?”
Orias' face turned red with rage, but he turned and walked away,
the red cloak he was wearing billowing behind him. I shook my head
as I turned to the Queen and found her eyes already on me, a
puzzling smile on her lips.
“So you’re Cyrus . . .” Her eyes roamed up and down my body.
“It’s so nice to finally meet you.”
“Likewise, Queen Asura. I’m surprised you’d trouble yourself to
know someone like me,” I said, interlocking my fingers behind my
back.
She chuckled, then held her hand out for us to walk together, the
tail of the red dress she was wearing dragging behind her on the
ground. Behind us, her guards—giant hound demons in human form
—were watching everyone’s move, including mine. If anyone dared
to attack or anger the Queen, those guards would transform into
massive dogs with teeth and claws powerful enough to bite or tear
through steel itself.
"I consider it my duty to know about all the children my husband
has brought into this world." The smile on her lips was constant, and
her voice never rose above a whisper. "You, however, are peculiar. I
see a lot more of him in you than in my son Orias.”
I clenched my jaw. “Forgive me, Your Majesty, but I’m nothing
like my father.”
She chuckled and shook her head. “You don’t even know him.
How can you make such a statement?”
We came to a stop before towering golden double doors that led
into a grand hall. Thousands of demons were inside, but the loud
chatter and clinking glasses stopped the moment the Queen and I
appeared at the door. She held her hand out to me, and I raised my
arm for her to hold.
"I'll be watching you, Cyrus. You have significant power." Then
she took a step forward, and I did the same, while all the while
cursing my bad luck. I’d gone from hoping I’d go unnoticed,
blending into the crowd, to having all eyes on me the moment I
arrived.
The crowd before us suddenly parted, creating a path straight to
the King at the very end of the hall. The Queen sashayed her way
through the crowd to a chorus of compliments from her subjects,
forcing me to escort her halfway to the King's throne before her
guards moved me to the side.
I suppose that would be as close as I’d get to my father, since
there was another line of guards keeping the crowd away from the
King as well.
He was sitting atop his throne, in all his golden-cloak-wearing
glory. His black hair was long and straight, and while his Queen wore
a large dazzling crown, he had nothing on his head. Even sitting
down, it was obvious he was staggeringly tall. I guessed him to be
about 7’2” in height.
 Thinking of the Queen’s words, I studied my father, quickly
noticing how much my face shape resembled his. Our noses were
both slightly crooked. Of course, I knew there would be some
resemblance between us, but I hadn't expected this much.
I look like a younger version of him. In fact, if I let my hair grow,
I’d be the spitting image of him.
His red eyes had remained on me from the moment I had
entered with his wife on my arm. Only once before had I seen this
man, when I was but a child. But now, I was fully grown and able to
hold his stare without backing down.
Finally, the Queen took her seat beside the King, and I walked
away happily, making my way through the crowd of demons that all
still had their eyes on me. Then suddenly, someone called my name.
I held back a growl as I turned and spotted my mother waving at
me. Her silver dress—if the garment could actually be called a dress,
since it only covered her breasts, arms, and thighs—was glistening
from the crystals sewn onto it.
“My boy,” she gushed as she finally reached me and kissed my
cheeks. “You look so handsome!”
“You picked out what I’m wearing, Mother. I found it in my room
along with your note.”
She shrugged. "Well, of course, I wouldn’t let you come here
dressed the way you usually are when you're . . .” She sighed and
rolled her eyes. ". . . on Earth."
I couldn’t stop myself from laughing. “You looked like you were
going to throw up just from saying the word ‘Earth.’”
“I was,” she gritted out. I shook my head, still chuckling.
She winked at me with a smile before leaning forward and
moving a strand of perfectly curled black hair behind her ear. “What
were you just doing with the Queen? What were you two talking
about?”
“You waste no time, do you, Mother?” I asked. She smiled
sweetly, even though we both knew there was nothing sweet about
her. This woman had a black hole where her heart should be. “We
weren’t talking about anything interesting.”
 “The Queen singled you out. She must have had a reason,” she
argued. I only shrugged.
She ran her hand down the sleeve of the black cotton shirt she
had picked out for me. She’d painted her pointy nails in black and
decorated them with crystals that matched the ones on her dress—
and the ones that ran down the sides of my cloak. To an outsider, it
would appear as if my mother loved me. But I knew better. It was
my father who made me special to her. She’d do anything for the
King. Hell, if he told her to cut her arm off right now, I’d bet she’d
do it without a moment of hesitation.
I looked around the room and wondered how many demons
would say no if asked to do something similar.
“You look pale, Cyrus.” She narrowed her eyes and pressed her
lips together. “You need to feed. I told you to take care of that
before you came. I even sent three humans to your room.”
“I’m not hungry,” I replied almost immediately. “And I sent your
pets away.”
The three human girls had reeked of the other incubi they had
been with. I watched as my mother’s face became expressionless,
even as the veins on her neck began to throb. I knew what she was
thinking, but she couldn’t say it, not with everyone around. She
hated the fact that I lived on Earth, that I chose werewolves as my
family. And even more, she hated that I refused to lose myself and
become the sex-crazed person she was. Just because I was required
to feed on the desire of others to survive didn’t mean I shouldn’t
exercise a little self-control about how and when and who I did it
with.
“Valencia?”
My mother and I looked towards the person who had called her
name. When I saw who it was, I knew another confrontation was
about to happen. Draped in a deep green cloak with white feathers
around the hood, Greed—one of the other sins like my mother—
looked me up and down with his observant emerald eyes before
drifting over to my mother.
“Hello, my dear.” The tall, thin man bent forward and kissed her
cheek. “You look stunning, as always.”
 “Aw, thank you, Shax,” my mom replied. Then Shax’s attention
landed on me as the sound of a piano being played filled the air.
“I wasn’t expecting to see you here,” he said, running his fingers
through his dark brown hair.
Shax had always had a thing for my mother. And as the
embodiment of the sin Greed, he thought she should belong to him
—and him only. Of course, she'd slept with him, but considering she
was a succubus—and the sin Lust—that meant nothing. She wasn’t
exactly choosy about who she slept with. He wasn’t anything special
to her, but he refused to see it. And he hated me for the attention
she gave me.
“Now, now, be nice, boys,” she quickly intervened. “This is a
party, after all. Don’t make a scene.”
Shax ignored her, his green eyes turning black. Here it comes. I
looked at my mother. “Why did you make me come here, again?”
“You don’t deserve to be the next leader of your mother’s Legion.
You don’t care about the Demon Realm at all. You’ve lived . . . on
Earth—” He practically spat the word. “—all your life. So why should
you receive such an honor?" He stepped closer to me and my
mother stepped back, a grin on her lips. Despite what she had said
about not making a scene, this was beyond entertaining for her.
“You’re wasting your time,” I answered. “I don’t care what you or
anyone here thinks of me. My mother asked me to attend, so here I
am.”
I saw his hand rise, but slowly, as if the world around me was
moving as slow as honey. Shax had always had a temper, despite
being the sin of Greed and not Wrath. Ironically, Wrath was usually
pretty calm.
My wings burst from my back and loud gasps filled the room as
demons scattered to avoid being knocked over by them. I could see
Shax visibly rethinking his plan of grabbing me, as his hand froze
mid-air. Good. I folded my wings behind me and stepped forward,
pointedly ignoring Shax as I walked around him.
I left Shax and my mother behind, eyeing a bottle of wine across
the room. I rarely drank, but I was going to need something to get
through this night. There was no going back for me now, no
blending into the crowd and silently leaving.
I ignored the whispers that met my ears—demons commenting
on my wings, wondering why I had them, guessing why I’d come
tonight. It was not lost on me how confusing this must have been
for demons who didn’t know who I was. First, I entered with the
Queen on my arm, and then I flashed my wings, which, according to
demon lore, I shouldn’t even have.
Only the King, his first son and heir to the throne, and the third
crowned prince sported red wings—the symbol of the Demon Realm.
And then there I was, the son of one of his booty calls, a son who
few demons even knew of, who lived on Earth instead of being glued
to his side for approval, like the rest of his kids.
It seemed like people down here didn’t understand how the
inheritance of traits worked. Any of Father’s children could have
inherited his wings. Just because red wings were rarely seen outside
the royal family didn’t mean it never happened.
Okay, so I could understand Orias hating my guts for that. He
was the only crowned prince who didn't get wings.
I got myself a glass of wine and leaned against the wall by an
open window. Loud music drowned out the sound of thunder
outside, but at least I didn’t have to listen to all the gossip suddenly
running wild about me.
Loud drums echoed through the grand hall and everyone turned
their attention to the door as demons in gold masks started making
their way inside. Behind them, women wearing similar gold masks
were dancing to the beat of the drums.
Swirling gold lines twisted around their every curve, while a thin,
sheer fabric covered their breasts. However, the rest of the women’s
bodies were on display for all to see. Loud whistles echoed among
the people as the girls disbursed within the crowd, their hips moving
wildly with the rapid beat of the drums.
“Well, well, look who it is.”
I tilted my head to the side as a man with thick blond hair and
blue eyes grinned at me. I narrowed my eyes at him, wondering why
he looked so happy to see me, especially considering I had no idea
who he was.
He came to a stop beside me and tapped his glass against mine.
“How long has it been, brother?”
I blinked as I realized who was standing before me. “Theanos?” I
guessed, and his smile grew wider.
“In the flesh,” he replied as he finished his wine in one swig,
though some of it ran down his long chin. He threw the glass
through the window and wiped his chin, then chuckled. “I was
hoping you'd turn up. But I hadn't imagined you being the center of
attention.”
“Yeah, you and me both,” I grumbled, and he laughed.
Before I had left the Demon Realm and moved to Earth when I
was a boy, Theanos had been the only sibling I could stand, the only
one who’d ever been kind to me. Because he was the son of a
Dragon King, our mother used to drive him crazy, the way she did to
me now that I was no longer the weak boy I used to be. Once it
became known that I had inherited the King’s wings, I quickly
became her new obsession. I liked it a lot better when she’d focused
all her attention on her dragon-born son—though I didn’t know if
Theanos would agree.
I never thought I’d miss the days when my mother didn’t give a
damn about me.
"It's nice to see you, Cyrus," he said in a low voice.
I nodded. “It’s nice to see you too, Theanos,” I answered
truthfully. I was thankful there was at least one person in this place
that didn’t hate me.
The tempo of the drums changed, and Theanos and I watched as
the palace staff led more humans into the hall. Both women and
men were naked, dancing without a care in the world that they were
being offered up as playthings and food.
I swallowed hard as my hand twitched by my side.
Maybe I should have fed before coming here.
I could smell the desire rolling off the humans in waves, and I
quickly looked away as an incubus grabbed a nearby woman and
sank his fangs into her throat. My kind didn't feed on blood, but
biting our victims allowed us to introduce a chemical into their
system that heightened their arousal even further.
It was also how we made our mark once we decided to take that
path. It was, of course, not common to see since most incubi and
succubi preferred to remain single.
“Are you going to feed?” Theanos asked.
I shook my head. Living among the wolves in Skye’s and Elinor’s
pack had forced me to control myself, restraining my hunger to the
point where I become ill. Yes, I knew that it wasn’t healthy, but my
feelings for Skye had played a large part in preventing me from
feeding on anyone else.
I’d yet to tell her about my feelings, of what I’d felt for her ever
since we were children. But I felt as if I’d betrayed her each time I
had another woman beneath me. I didn’t learn not to care about
such things—the way most demons do—because I grew up with
wolves who dedicated themselves to one partner.
“In that case, I want to talk to you about something,” he added. I
nodded, thankful for the chance to get out of this place.
We made our way through the castle until the loud music and the
feeding frenzy going on in the ballroom didn’t seem so loud. I
inhaled the scent of flowers as we entered a garden, trying to forget
the sweet smell of sex we left behind.
I caught Theanos looking at me curiously after we found a bench
to sit down on, so I stopped taking deep breaths and arched a brow.
“What?”
He shook his head. “Nothing. I just wanted to talk to you about
using your portal.”
That piqued my interest, and I crossed my arms over my chest.
It was common to find unmapped portals in the Demon Realm—
gateways that could take you to any other realm. After finding one
close to Skye’s pack as a child, I spelled it so no one else could use it
without my permission. It had taken me years to perfect the spell to
the point where it would notify me if someone tried to break it.
“Why?” I asked.
His brows pulled together with frustration. “You and I are the
only two sons Valencia has that are of royal blood. You got away . . .
but I wasn’t so lucky.” He inhaled and held his head back to stare up
at the black starry sky above us. “You and I think alike, but because
of you, she keeps a close eye on me, watching me every time I go
to Earth.” He looked my way, and I nodded with understanding. He’d
grown tired of her, too. “I need a break, Cyrus.”
More than anyone, I understood the weight on Theanos’s
shoulders. Our mother wasn’t plaguing him to be the next leader of
her Legion, but being the second-born son of a Dragon King, she
forced him to stay close—just in case. As the ‘spare’, he’d be next in
line for the throne if anything happened to his brother, the heir.
“Sure,” I answered. It would be nice to have him visit sometime.
And I was sure the girls would like to meet him.
He was a little wild, maybe, but he was a good guy. At least, he
had been when we were kids. Maybe inviting him before knowing
how much he'd changed was a bad idea, but having at least one
person from my family on my side couldn't be a bad thing.
The towering form of the King appeared at the entrance of the
garden, and Theanos and I fell silent.
“King Abraxas, is everything okay?” Theanos asked as he stood
up and bowed in respect. I remained seated.
“Yes, of course, Theanos, thank you.” His red eyes drifted to me.
“I'd like to speak to my son.”
My eyes lowered at that, and Theanos looked my way. “Of
course,” he replied and turned to leave, but not before raising a
curious brow my way.
“You don’t have to leave, Theanos.” King Abraxas raised his hand
and Theanos froze. “This won't take long.”
Theanos looked from the King to me and then back again.
“Okay.”
We waited in silence for a moment. Then the King’s lips curved
with a smile. “You’re not what I had expected. You’re not the little
boy I remember.”
“That was many years ago,” I answered as I finally stood up. “A
lot has changed.”
He nodded once in agreement. “I’m looking forward to the time
you take over your mother’s Legion. She speaks highly of you.”
 “I’m afraid I won’t be her successor. My older brother Baxton is in
line to be the next Sin,” I replied, and his thick brow arched ever so
slightly.
“Let me rephrase that.” His voice was gravelly, as if he was
growling each time a word left his lips. But as he stepped forward,
his voice deepened. The air of calm that had surrounded him
vanished, and Theanos and I got a glimpse of the powerful king he
truly was.
His eyes abruptly flared and the dark power vibrating off his body
grew almost stifling. “You’re my son. You bear my wings as proof of
that. No son of mine with your potential will be wasted among
mortals. I’ll give you three more years on Earth, but after that time,
you’ll return to me in the Underworld. Do you understand? If you
still refuse to return—the way your mother has been telling me
you’re doing—I’ll give you a reason to come back. And you won’t like
it.”
I clenched my jaws at his blatant threat but remained quiet.
Although I really wanted to take him down, I was no match for the
Demon King in a fight. Not yet, and probably never. But I didn’t like
the threat to my family on Earth. There was no doubt in my mind
that, like my mother, he wouldn’t hesitate to hurt Skye or Elinor if it
suited his personal agenda. Clearly, my mother had been telling him
everything.
He turned to leave without waiting for my response. “My door is
always open for you, my son. I’ll be seeing you soon.”
Another random document with
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question as to the function and purpose of that strange
Mesopotamian institution of temple-prostitutes. But, leaving this latter
alone for the moment, we find explicit testimony in Herodotus to the
fact with which we are immediately concerned. In describing the
great temple of Bel at Babylon,265.1 he asserts, on the authority of
his “Chaldean priests,” that the deity chose as his nightly partner
some native woman, who was supposed to pass the night on the
couch with him, and who was obliged to abstain from all other
intercourse with men; and he compares a similar practice of belief
found in the temple of Zeus in Egyptian Thebes, and in the oracular
shrine of Apollo at Patara in Lycia. Now Herodotus’ trustworthiness
in this matter has been doubted by Assyriologists;265.2 nevertheless,
a phrase used in the code of Hammurabi concerning a holy woman
dedicated to temple service, calling her “a wife of Marduk,” seems to
give some colour to the Herodotean statement.265.3 Only, this term
might have merely a spiritual-symbolic significance, like the
designation of a nun as “the bride of Christ”; for the original
Babylonian documents have supplied as yet, so far as I am aware,
no evidence of a woman fulfilling the rôle of Belit, the wife of Bel.
As regards the adjacent religions, the idea that a mortal might
enter into this mode of communion with the divinity was probably an
ancient heritage of the Phrygian religions, for it crops up in various
forms. The priest of Attis was himself called Attis, and, therefore,
probably had loving intercourse with the goddess, and the later
mysteries of Kybele extended this idea and offered to every votary
the glory of a mystic marriage;266.1 it was the unconscious stimulus
of an immemorial tradition that prompted the Phrygian heresiarch
Montanus to give himself out as the husband of the Virgin Mary.266.2
It also appears as a fundamental tenet of the Sabazian mystery and
of the Hellenistic-Egyptian Hermetic theosophy. The simple ritual-
fact, namely, that a woman serves as the bride of the god, could
probably be traced far afield through many widely distant peoples.
According to Sahagun,266.3 the human sacrifices of the Mexicans
had sometimes the purpose of sending away a woman victim into
divine wedlock. In pre-Christian Sweden we find a priestess
generally regarded as the wife of the god Freyr, and enjoying
considerable power from the connection.266.4 Similar examples can
be quoted from modern savage communities. Therefore if we find
the same institution in the Mediterranean, we shall not think it
necessary to suppose that it was an import from Babylon or from any
Semitic people. As regards the Minoan worship, it is legitimate at
least to regard the legend of Pasiphaë and her amour with the bull-
god as an unfortunate aetiologic myth distorting the true sense of a
ritual in which a mortal woman enjoyed this kind of divine
communion, and here again we should mark a religious affinity
between Crete and Phrygia. And it is likely that the idea was not
unfamiliar to the Hellenes, though the record of it is scanty and
uncertain. According to the early Christian fathers, the inspiration of
the Pythia of Delphi was due to a corporeal union with Apollo akin at
least to—if not identical with—sexual intercourse. Of more value is
Herodotus’ definite assertion that the priestess of Patara gained her
inspiration by her nuptial union with Apollo. In the rare cases where
the cult of a Hellenic god was administered by a priestess we may
suspect that a ἱερὸς γάμος was part of the temple-ritual; in the two
examples that I have been able to find, the cults of Poseidon at
Kalaureia and of Heracles at Thespiai, the priestess must be a
maiden, as on this theory would be natural.267.1 The maiden-
priestesses of the Leukippides, the divine brides of the Dioskouroi at
Sparta, were themselves called Leukippides; in all probability
because they were their mortal representatives in some ceremony of
holy marriage.267.2 But the most salient and explicitly recorded
example is the yearly marriage of the Queen-Archon at Athens with
Dionysos, the bull-god, in the feast of Anthesteria, the significance of
which I have discussed elsewhere.267.3 It seems that the Queen by
uniting her body with the god’s, unites to him the whole Athenian
state and secures its prosperity and fruitfulness; this historic fact may
also explain the myth of the union of Althaia, Queen of Kalydon, with
the same god. Finally, let us observe that nothing in any of these
Hellenic records suggests any element of what we should call
impurity in the ritual; we are not told that these holy marriages were
ever consummated by the priest as the human representative of the
god; or that the ceremony involved any real loss of virginity in the
maiden-priestess. The marriage could have been consummated
symbolically by use of a puppet or image of the deity. We may
believe that the rite descends from pre-Homeric antiquity; the ritual
which the Queen-Archon performed might naturally have been
established at the time of the adoption into Athens of the Dionysiac
cult, and there are reasons for dating this event earlier than 1000
B.C.268.1
We now come to a very difficult and important question concerning
the position of women in the old Mesopotamian temple-ritual. Our
first document of value is the code of Hammurabi, in which we find
certain social regulations concerning the status of a class of women
designated by a name which Winckler translates doubtfully as
“God’s-sisters,” regarding it, however, as equivalent to consecrated,
while Johns translates it merely as “votary.”268.2 At least, we have
proof of a class of holy women who have certain privileges and are
under certain restrictions. They were the daughters of good families
dedicated by their fathers to religion; they could inherit property,
which was exempt from the burden of army-tax; they could not
marry, and were prohibited from setting-up or even entering a wine-
shop under penalty of death. It is something to know even as much
as this about them, but we would very gladly learn more. Is it to their
order that the personage described as “the wife of Marduk”269.1
belongs, who has been considered above? Is it from among them
that the priestesses of Ishtar were chosen, who interpreted the
oracles of the goddess?269.2 It seems clear that a father could
dedicate his daughter to any divinity, that their position was
honourable, and that they are not to be identified with the temple-
prostitutes of Babylon or Erech, who excited the wonder and often
the reprobation of the later Greek world. This peculiar order of
temple-harlots is also recognised—according to some of the best
authorities269.3—in Hammurabi’s code, where they are mentioned in
the same context with the “consecrated” or the “God-sisters,” and yet
are clearly distinct from them; another clause seems to refer to male
prostitutes (§ 187). Certain rules are laid down concerning their
inheritance of property, and concerning the rearing of their children, if
they had any, who might be adopted into private families. Evidently
these “Qadishtu” were a permanent institution, and there is no hint of
any dishonour. There may be other references in Babylonian
literature to these temple-women; in the Epic of Gilgamesh, the
courtesan who won over Eabani evidently belongs to the retinue of
Ishtar of Erech.
From these two institutions we must distinguish that other, for
which Herodotus is our earliest authority:269.4 according to his
explicit statement, once in her lifetime every Babylonian woman,
high or low, had to stand in the temple-precincts of the goddess
Mylitta—probably a functional appellative of Ishtar, meaning “the
helper of childbirth”—and to prostitute herself to any stranger who
threw money into her lap and claimed her with the formula, “I invoke
the goddess Mylitta for you.” Herodotus hastens to assure us that
this single act of unchastity—which took place outside the temple—
did not afterwards lower the morality of the women, who, as he
declares, were otherwise exemplary in this respect. But he is
evidently shocked by the custom, and the early Christian and
modern writers have quoted it as the worst example of gross pagan
or Oriental licentiousness. Some devoted Assyriologists have tried to
throw doubt on the historian’s veracity:270.1 the wish is father to the
thought: and it is indeed difficult for the ordinary civilised man to
understand how an ancient civilisation of otherwise advanced
morality could have sanctioned such a practice. But Herodotus’
testimony ought not to be so impugned; nor is it sufficient evidence
for rejecting it that no reference to the custom which he describes
has been found hitherto in the cuneiform literature. Strabo merely
repeats what Herodotus has said; but independent evidence of some
value is gathered from the apocryphal Epistle of Jeremias:270.2 “The
women also with cords about them sit in the ways, burning bran for
incense; but if any of them, drawn by some that pass by, lie with
them, she reproacheth her fellow that she was not thought as worthy
as herself, nor her cord broken.” The context is altogether religious,
and this is no ordinary secular immorality; certain details in the
narrative remind us of Herodotus, and make it clear that the writer
has in mind the same social usage that the historian vouches for.
This usage may be described as the consecration to the goddess of
the first-fruits of the woman’s virginity before marriage; for, though
Herodotus does not explicitly say that it was a rite preliminary to
marriage, yet the records of similar practices elsewhere in Asia
Minor assure us on this point.
We have now to begin the comparative search in the adjacent
regions, keeping distinct the three types of consecration which I have
specified above, which are too often confused.271.1
The first type has its close analogies with the early Christian,
mediaeval, and modern conventual life of women. The code of
Hammurabi presents us with the earliest example of what may be
called the religious sisterhood; the Babylonian votaries were
dedicated to religion, and while the Christian nuns are often called
the brides of Christ, their earliest prototypes enjoyed the less
questionable title of “God’s-sisters.” We find no exact parallel to this
practice in ancient Greece; from the earliest period, no doubt, the
custom prevailed of consecrating individual women of certain
families as priestesses to serve certain cults, and sometimes chastity
was enforced upon them; but these did not form a conventual
society; and usually, apart from their occasional religious duties, they
could lead a secular life. In fact, the monastic system was of Eastern
origin and only reached Europe in later times, being opposed to the
civic character of the religion of the old Aryan states.
The second class of consecrated women served as temple-harlots
in certain cult-centres of Asia Minor. We cannot say that the custom
in all cases emanated from Babylon; for there is reason to think that
it was a tradition attaching to the cult of the goddess among the
polytheistic Semitic stocks. We have clear allusions in the Bible to
temple-prostitution practised by both sexes in the Canaanite
communities adjacent to the Israelites, who were themselves
sometimes contaminated by the practice.272.1 We hear of “hierodouli”
among the pagan Arabs,272.2 of women “of the congregation of the
people of Astarte” at Carthage,272.3 of numbers of dedicated slave
women in the cult of Aphrodite at Eryx,272.4 which was at least semi-
Semitic; and it is likely that some of these at least were devoted to
the impure religious practice. As regards non-Semitic worships, it is
only clearly attested of two, namely, of the worship of Mā at Comana
in Pontos,272.5 and of Aphrodite Ourania in Corinth.272.6 In these
cases we have the right to assume Semitic influences at work; for we
do not find traces of this practice in the ancient cult of Kybele; and
Ma of Cappadocia and Pontus, who had affinities with her, was partly
contaminated with Anahita, a Persian goddess, who had taken on
Babylonian fashions. Nor can we doubt that the practice gained
recognition at Corinth in post-Homeric times through its Oriental
trade; for it was attached to the cult of Aphrodite Ourania, whose
personality, partly at least, was identical with that of the Semitic
goddess. The practice survived in Lydia in the later period of the
Graeco-Roman culture. For a woman of Tralles, by name Aurelia
Aemilia, erected a column with an inscription that has been
published by Sir William Ramsay,273.1 in which she proclaims with
pride that she had prostituted herself in the temple service “at the
command of an oracle,” and that her female ancestors had done
likewise. Finally, we may find the cult-practice reflected in certain
legends; in the legend of Iconium, for instance, of the woman who
enticed all strangers to her embraces and afterwards slew them, but
was herself turned to stone by Perseus, and whose stone image
gave the name to the State.273.2
The other custom recorded by Herodotus of Babylon, the
consecration of the first-fruits of virginity to the goddess before
marriage, which I have considered as distinct from the foregoing,
may often have been combined or confused with it; for the temple-
harlotry, carried on for some considerable period, might be
occasionally a preliminary to marriage. The most exact parallels to
the Babylonian custom are found in the records of Byblos, Cyprus,
and the Syrian Heliopolis or Baalbec. Lucian attests the rule
prevailing at Byblos, that in the festival of Adonis women exposed
themselves for purchase on one single day, and that only strangers
were allowed to enjoy them; but that this service was only imposed
upon them if they refused to cut off their hair in lamentation for
Adonis.274.1 Similarly the Byzantine historian Sozomenos declared
that at Heliopolis (Baalbec), in the temple of Astarte, each maiden
was obliged to prostitute herself before marriage, until the custom
and the cult were abolished by Constantine.274.2 The statements
about Cyprus, though less explicit, point to the same institution:
Herodotus, having described at length the Babylonian practice,
declares that it prevailed in Cyprus also, and Justin274.3 that it was a
custom of the Cyprians “to send their virgins before marriage on
fixed days to the shore, to earn their dowry by prostitution, so as to
pay a first-offering to Venus for their virtue henceforth (pro reliqua
pudicitia libamenta Veneri soluturas).” The procession to the shore
may indicate the rule that intercourse was only allowed them with
strangers,274.4 and nothing points to prolonged prostitution. It is
probably the same rite that the Locrians of the West vowed to
perform in honour of Aphrodite in the event of deliverance from a
dangerous war.275.1 But in the worship of Anaitis at Akilisene in
Armenia, according to Strabo,275.2 the unmarried women served as
temple-harlots for an indefinite time until they married; and Aurelia
Aemilia of Tralles may have been only maintaining the same ancient
ritual in Lydia. In these two countries, then, it seems as if there had
been a fusion of two institutions that elsewhere were distinct one
from another, harlot-service for a prolonged period in a temple, and
the consecration of each maiden’s virginity as a preliminary to
marriage.
Such institutions mark the sharpest antagonism between the early
religious sentiment of the East and the West. Of no European State
is there any record, religious or other, that the sacrifice before
marriage of a woman’s virginity to a mortal was at any time regarded
as demanded by temple ritual. Such a rite was abhorrent to the
genuine Hellenic, as it was to the Hebraic, spirit; and only in later
times do we find one or two Hellenic cult-centres catching the taint of
the Oriental tradition: while such legends as that of Melanippos and
Komaitho and the story of Laokoon’s sin express the feeling of horror
which any sexual licence in a temple aroused in the Greek.275.3
It is imperative to try to understand the original purpose or
significance of the Semitic and Anatolian rites that we have been
dealing with. To regard them as the early Christian and some
modern writers have done, as mere examples of unbridled Oriental
lust masquerading in the guise of religion, is a false and unjust view.
According to Herodotus, the same society that ordained this sacrifice
of virginity upon the daughters of families maintained in other
respects a high standard of virtue, which appears also attested by
Babylonian religious and secular documents. Modern anthropology
has handled the problem with greater insight and seriousness; but
certain current explanations are not convincing. To take the rite
described by Herodotus first, which is always to be distinguished
from the permanent institution of “hierodulai” in the sense of temple-
harlots: Mannhardt, who was the first to apply modern science to the
problem, explained it as a development of vegetation-ritual.276.1
Aphrodite and Adonis, Ishtar and Tammuz, represent vegetation, and
their yearly union causes general fertility; the women are playing the
part of the goddess, and the stranger represents Adonis! The
Babylonian rite, then, is partly religious μιμησις, the human acting of
a divine drama, partly religious magic good for the crops. But in spite
of Mannhardt’s great and real services to science, his vegetation-
theory leads him often astray, and only one who was desperately
defending a thesis would explain that stranger, a necessary
personage in the ritual at Babylon, Byblos, Cyprus, and Baalbec, as
the native god. There is no kind of reason for connecting the
Babylonian rite with Tammuz, or for supposing that the women were
representing the goddess,277.1 or that their act directly influenced the
crops, except in the sense that all due performance of religious
ceremonies has been considered at certain stages of belief as
favouring the prosperity of the land. Sir William Ramsay, in his Cities
and Bishoprics of Phrygia,277.2 would explain the custom as
preserving the tradition of the communism of women before regular
marriage was instituted. Dr. Frazer, who has dealt more fully with the
question, accepts this explanation,277.3 as he also accepts
Mannhardt’s in full; and, while he associates—as I think, wrongly—
the Babylonian rite with general temple-prostitution, he adds a third
suggestion, prompted by his theory of kingship: the king himself
might have to mate with one or more of the temple-harlots “who
played Astarte to his Adonis”:277.4 such unions might serve to
maintain the supply of human deities, one of whom might succeed to
the throne, and another might be sacrificed in his father’s stead
when religion demanded the life of the royal man-god. I do not find
this theory coherent even with itself; and, like the others, it fails to
explain all the facts, and, on the other hand, it imagines data which
are not given us by the records.
That state of communism when sexual union was entirely
promiscuous is receding further and further into the anthropological
background: it is dangerous to predicate it of the most backward
Anatolian State in any period which can come into our ken. When
the Byzantine Sokrates gravely tells us that the men of Heliopolis
had their wives in common, he does not know what he is saying. And
if this sacrifice of virginity before marriage was a recognition of the
original rights of all the males of the community, why did not some
representative of the community take the virginity, the priest or some
head-man? This ill-considered sociologic hypothesis shipwrecks on
that mysterious stranger.278.1
Prof. Westermarck, in his Origin and Development of the Moral
Ideas,278.2 regards the Mylitta-rite as intended to ensure fertility in
women through direct appeal to the goddess of fertility, and he
explains the formula which the stranger uttered—ἐπικαλέω τοι τὴν
θεὸν Μύλιττα—as signifying generally “May the goddess Mylitta
prosper thee.” Obviously the phrase, “I invoke the goddess for thee,”
could as naturally mean, “I claim thee in the name of the goddess,”
the stranger basing his right to the woman on this appeal. But his
general theory appears not so unsound as those which have just
been noted.
The comparative method ought to help us here; and though we
have no exact parallel, as far as I am aware, recorded of any people
outside the Mediterranean area to the Babylonian custom, we find
usages reported elsewhere that agree with it in one essential.
Lubbock quotes instances from modern India of the rule imposed
upon women of presenting themselves before marriage in the temple
of Juggernaut for the purpose—as he implies—of offering up their
virginity, though no such custom is recorded in the Vedic period of
religion;278.3 cases also are chronicled of the rule prevailing among
uncultured or semi-cultured tribes that the medicine-man or the
priest should take the virginity of the bride before the marriage
ceremony.279.1 These are probably illustrations of the working of the
same idea as that which inspired the Babylonian custom. Marriage
involves the entering upon a new state; change of life is generally
dangerous, and must be safeguarded by what Van Gennep has
called “rites de passage”; more especially is the sexual union with a
virgin dangerous and liable to be regarded with awe by primitive
sentiment; before it is safe to marry her, the tabu that is upon her
must first be removed by a religious act securing the divinity’s
sanction for the removal; just as the ripe cornfield must not be
reaped before religious rites, such as the consecration of first-fruits,
have loosened the tabu upon it: we may believe that Hellenic
marriage ritual secured the same end as the Babylonian by what
seems to us the more innocent method of offering the προτέλεια. So
the Babylonian safeguards the coming marriage by offering the first-
fruits of his daughter to the goddess who presides over the powers
and processes of life and birth. Under her protection, after appeal to
her, the process loses its special danger; or if there is danger still, it
falls upon the head of the stranger.279.2 For I can find no other way of
accounting for his presence as a necessary agent, in the ritual of at
least four widely separate communities of Semitic race: this
comparative ubiquity prevents us explaining it as due to some
capricious accidental impulse of delicacy, as if the act would become
less indelicate if a stranger who would not continue in the place
participated in it.
In his essay on the question, Mr. Hartland explains the Babylonian
rite as belonging to the class of puberty-ceremonies; nor would this
account of it conflict with the view here put forth, if, as he maintains,
primitive puberty-ceremonies to which girls are subjected are usually
preliminary to the marriage which speedily follows.280.1 But puberty-
ceremonies are generally performed at initiation-mysteries, and none
of the rites that we are considering appear to have been associated
with mysteries except, perhaps, at Cyprus, where the late record
speaks of mysteries instituted by Kinyras that had a sexual
significance, and which may have been the occasion of the
consecration of virginity that Justin describes;280.2 but the institution
of mysteries has not yet been proved for any purely Semitic religion.
In any case, Mr. Hartland’s statement does not explain why the loss
of virginity should be considered desirable in a puberty-ceremony or
as a preliminary to marriage.
 The significance of the action, as I have interpreted it, is negative
rather than positive, the avoidance of a vague peril or the removal of
a tabu rather than the attainment of the blessing of fertility, as Dr.
Westermarck would regard it. And this idea, the removal of a tabu,
seems expressed in the phrase of Herodotus281.1 by which he
describes the state of the woman after the ceremony—
ἀποσιωσαμένη τῇ θεῷ; and the parallel that I have suggested, the
consecration of the first-fruits of the harvest to remove the tabu from
the rest of the crop, is somewhat justified by the words of Justin
already quoted—“pro reliqua pudicitia libamenta Veneri soluturas.”
As regards the other institution, the maintenance of “hierodoulai” in
temples as “consecrated” women, “kadeschim,” unmarried, who for a
period of years indulged in sexual intercourse with visitors, the
original intention and significance of it is hard to decide. We may be
sure that it did not originate in mere profligacy, and the inscription of
Tralles shows that even in the later Roman period it had not lost its
religious prestige.281.2 Such a custom could naturally arise in a
society that allowed freedom of sexual intercourse among young
unmarried persons—and this is not uncommonly found at a primitive
level of culture—and that was devoted to the worship of a goddess
of sexual fertility. The rituals in the temples of Ishtar of Erech, Anaitis
of Armenia, Mā of Comana, must have been instituted for some
national and social purpose; therefore Mr. Hartland’s suggestion, that
the original object of the Armenian rite was to give the maidens a
chance of securing themselves a suitable husband by experience,
seems insufficient. Dr. Frazer’s theory, that connects the institution
with some of the mystic purposes of kingship,282.1 floats in the air; for
there is not a particle of evidence showing any relation between
these women and the monarch or the royal harem or the
monarchical succession or the death of a royal victim. A simpler
suggestion is that the “hierodoulai,” or temple-women, were the
human vehicles for diffusing through the community the peculiar
virtue or potency of the goddess, the much-coveted blessing of
human fertility. Thus to consecrate slaves or even daughters to this
service was a pious social act.
The significance of the facts that we have been examining is of the
highest for the history of religious morality, especially for the varied
history of the idea of purity. We call this temple-harlotry vile and
impure; the civilised Babylonian, who in private life valued purity and
morality, called the women “kadistu,” that is, “pure” or clean in the
ritualistic sense, or as Zimmern interprets the ideogram, “not
unclean.”282.2 In fact, the Mediterranean old-world religions, all save
the Hebraic, agreed in regarding the processes of the propagation of
life as divine, at least as something not alien or abhorrent to
godhead. But the early Christian propagandists, working here on
Hebraic lines, intensified the isolation of God from the simple
phenomena of birth, thereby engendering at times an anti-sexual
bias, and preparing a discord between any possible biological view
and the current religious dogma, and modern ethical thought has not
been wholly a gainer thereby.
The subject that has been discussed at some length is also
connected with the whole question of ritual-purity and purification.
The primitive conception of purity had at an early stage in its
evolution been adopted by higher religion; and the essential effect of
impurity was to debar a person from intercourse with God and with
his fellow-men. Hence arises a code of rules to regulate temple-
ritual. So far as I am aware, the Babylonian rules for safeguarding
the purity of the shrines were not conspicuously different from the
Greek or the Hebraic.283.1 The taint of bloodshed and other physical
impurities was kept aloof; and it is in the highest degree probable
that the function of the “hetairai” was only performed outside the
temple, for Herodotus specially tells us that this rule was observed in
the Mylitta-rite. The cathartic methods of East and West agree in
many points. The use of holy water for purifying purposes was
known to the early Greeks.283.2 It was still more in evidence in the
Babylonian ritual: the holy water of the Euphrates or Tigris was used
for a variety of purposes, for the washing of the king’s hands before
he touched the statues, for the washing of the idol’s mouths,283.3
perhaps also for baptism. For we hear of some such rite in a hymn to
Enlil translated by Dr. Langdon284.1—the line that he renders “Son
whom in the sacred bowl she baptized,” seems to refer to a human
child. Ablution was prominent also in the exorcism-ritual, and the
“House of Washing” or “House of Baptism” was the centre of a liturgy
that had for its object deliverance from demons.284.2 The whole State
was at times purified by water.284.3 And in all this ritual the water
must itself be of a peculiar purity—rain-water, for instance,284.4 or the
water of the Euphrates, whence came probably the Water of Life that
was kept in Marduk’s temple with which the Gods and the Annunaki
washed their faces, and which was used in the feast of the Doom-
fixing.284.5 According to the Babylonian view ordinary water was
naturally impure (we may well believe that it was so at Babylon,
where the river and canals were so pressed into the service of man),
and a person incurred impurity by stepping over a puddle or other
unpurified water.284.6 The Greek did not need to be so scrupulous,
for most water in his land was naturally pure, being spring or brook;
yet in his cathartic rules we find often that only a special water was
suitable for the religious purpose, running water especially, or sea-
water, or in a particular locality one sacred fountain only.284.7 But
though it was to him as to most peoples, the simple and natural
means of purification, he did not apply it to such various cathartic
purposes as the Babylonian. Nor as far as we can discover had he
developed in old days the interesting rite of baptism: we hear of it
first in the records of the fifth century, and in relation to alien cults
like that of the Thracian goddess Kotytto.285.1
Equally prominent in the cathartic ritual of Mesopotamia was the
element of fire: in the prayer that followed upon the purification-
ceremonies we find the formula, “May the torch of the gleaming Fire-
God cleanse me.”285.2 The Fire-God, Nusku, is implored “to burn
away the evil magicians,”285.3 and we may believe that he owes his
development and exalted position as a high spiritual god to the ritual
use of fire, just as in the Vedic religion did Agni. The conception of
fire as a mighty purifying element, which appears in the Old and New
Testaments and in Christian eschatology, has arisen, no doubt, from
the cathartic ritual of the ancient Semites. Doubtless also the
spiritual or magic potency of this element was known in ancient
Europe: it is clearly revealed in the primitive ceremonies of the old
German “Notfeuer,” with which the cattle, fields, and men were
purified in time of pestilence.285.4 And there are several indications of
its use in Greek cathartic ritual; a noteworthy example is the
purification of Lemnos by the bringing of holy fire from Delos;285.5 the
curious Attic ritual of running with the new-born babe round the
hearth, called the Amphidromia, may have had a similar
intention;286.1 even the holy water, the χέρνιψ, seems to have been
hallowed by the insertion of a torch;286.2 and in the later records fire
is often mentioned among the usual implements of cleansing.286.3
The Eleusinian myth concerning Demeter holding the infant
Demophon in the flame to make him immortal was suggested
probably by some purificatory rite in which fire was used. Finally, the
fire-ordeal, which was practised both in Babylonia and Greece,286.4
may have been associated at a certain period with the cathartic
properties of fire. Nevertheless, the Hellenic divinities specially
concerned with this element, Hestia and Hephaistos, had little
personal interest in this ritual, and did not rise to the same height in
the national theology as Nusku rose in the Babylonian.
We might find other coincidences in detail between Hellenic and
Assyrian ritual, such as the purificatory employment of salt, onions,
and the sacrificial skin of the animal-victim.286.5 One of the most
interesting phenomena presented by the cathartic law of old
Babylonia is a rule that possessed an obvious moral value; we find,
namely, on one of the cylinders of Gudea, that during the period
when Gudea was purifying the city the master must not strike the
slave, and no action at law must be brought against any one; for
seven days perfect equality reigned, no bad word was uttered, the
widow and the orphan went free from wrong.287.1 The conception
underlying this rule is intelligible: all quarrelling and oppression,
being often accompanied with bloodshed and death, disturbs the
general purity which is desired to prevail; and I have indicated
elsewhere a similar law regulating the conduct of the Eleusinian
mysteries and the Dionysiac festival at Athens, both ceremonies of
cathartic value,287.2 and I have pointed out a similar ordinance
observed recently by a North-American Indian tribe, and formerly by
the Peruvians; to these instances may be added the statement by
Livy,287.3 that in the Roman “lectisternia,” when a table with offerings
was laid before the gods, no quarrelling was allowed and prisoners
were released, and the historian gives to the institution of the
lectisternia a piacular significance.
We must also bear in mind certain striking differences between the
Hellenic and the Babylonian cathartic systems. In certain purification-
ceremonies of Hellas, those in which the homicide was purged from
his stain, the washing with the blood of the piacular victim was the
most potent means of grace.287.4 We may find analogies in Vedic,
Roman, and Hebraic ritual, but hitherto none have been presented
by the religious documents of Babylon, where, as has been already
pointed out, scarcely any mystic use appears to have been made of
the blood of the victim.288.1 Again, the Babylonian purification
included the confession of sins, a purgation unknown and apparently
unnatural to the Hellene;288.2 and generally the Babylonian, while
most of its methods, like the Hellenic, are modes of transference or
physical riddance of impurity, had a higher spiritual and religious
significance; for it includes lamentations for sin and prayers to the
divinity that are not mentioned in the record of any Greek “katharsis.”
A long ritual-document is preserved containing the details of the
purification of the king:288.3 certain forms agree with the Hellenic, but
one who was only versed in the latter would find much that was
strange and unintelligible both in the particulars and in general
atmosphere. We discern an interesting mixture of magic and religion.
The gods are partly entreated, partly bribed, partly constrained; and
at the end the evil is physically expelled from the palace. The purifier
puts on dark garments, just as the ministers of the underworld-
deities did occasionally in Greece. The king himself performs much
of the ceremony, and utters words of power: “May my sins be rent
away, may I be pure and live before Shamash.” The ordering of the
cathartic apparatus is guided partly by astrology. It is curious also to
find that every article used in the process is identified by name with
some divinity: the cypress is the god Adad, the fragrant spices the
god Ninib, the censer the god Ib, etc.; and the commentary that
accompanies the ritual-text explains that these substances compel
the deities thus associated with them to come and give aid.
In fact, the differences between East and West in this religious
sphere are so important that we should not be able to believe that
the cathartic system of Greece was borrowed from Babylonia, even if
the points of resemblance were much more numerous and striking
than they are. For it would be possible to draw up a striking list of
coincidences between Hellenic and Vedic cathartic rites, and yet no
one would be able on the strength of it to establish a hypothesis of
borrowing.
In any case, it may be said, the question of borrowing does not
arise within the narrow limits of our inquiry, which is limited to the
pre-Homeric period, since all Greek “katharsis” is post-Homeric. The
latter dictum is obviously not literally true, as a glance through the
Homeric poems will prove. Homer is aware of the necessity of
purification by water before making prayer or libation to the gods:
Achilles washes his hands and the cups before he pours forth wine
and prays to Zeus,289.1 Telemachos washes his hands in sea-water
before he prays to Athena289.2; and there is a significant account of
the purification of the whole Achaean host after the plague;289.3 as
the later Greeks would have done, the Achaeans throw away into the
sea their λύματα, the infected implements of purification, wool or
whatever they used, that absorbed the evil from them. But it has
been generally observed that Homer does not appear to have been
aware of any need for purification from the stain of bloodshed or
from the ghostly contagion of death. It is true that Odysseus purifies
his hall with fire and sulphur after slaying the suitors, but we are not
sure that the act had any further significance than the riddance of the
smell of blood from the house. Sulphur is there called κακῶν
ἄκος,290.1 “a remedy against evil things”; but we cannot attach any
moral or spiritual sense to κακὰ, nor is Homeric κάθαρσις related, as
far as we can see, to any animistic belief. There is one passage
where Homer’s silence is valuable and gives positive evidence;
Theoklumenos, who has slain a man of his own tribe and fled from
his home, in consequence approaches Telemachos when the latter
is sacrificing and implores and receives his protection: there is no
hint of any feeling that there is a stain upon him, or that he needs
purification, or that his presence pollutes the sacrifice.290.2 All this
would have been felt by the later Greek; and in the post-Homeric
period we have to reckon with a momentous growth of the idea of
impurity and of a complex system of purification, especially in regard
to homicide, leading to important developments in the sphere of law
and morality which I have tried to trace out on other occasions.290.3
But Homer may well be regarded as the spokesman of a gifted race,
the Achaeans, as we call them, on whom the burden of the doctrine
of purification lay lightly, and for whom the ghostly world had
comparatively little terror or interest. Besides the Achaeans,
however, and their kindred races there was the submerged
population of the older culture who enter into the composition of the
various Hellenes of history. Therefore the varied development in the
post-Homeric period of cathartic ideas may be only a renaissance, a
recrudescence of forces that were active enough in the second
millennium. Attica may have been the home where the old tradition
survived, and cathartic rites such as the Thargelia and the trial of the
axe for murder in the Bouphonia have the savour of great antiquity.
May not the Minoan religion of Crete have been permeated with the
ideas of the impurity of bloodshed and the craving for purification
from sin? For at the beginning of the historic period Crete seems to
have been the centre of what may be called the cathartic mission;
from this island came Apollo Delphinios, the divine purifier par
excellence, to this island the god came to be purified from the death
of Python; and in later times, Crete lent to Athens its purifying
prophet Epimenides.291.1 If we believe, then, that the post-Homeric
blood-purification was really a recrudescence of the tradition of an
older indigenous culture, we should use this as another argument for
the view that the Greece of the second millennium was untouched or
scarcely touched by Babylonian influence. For, as we have seen,
purification by blood or from blood appears to have been wholly alien
to Babylonian religious and legal practice.
The ritual of purification belongs as much to the history of magic
as religion. Now, the student of religion is not permitted to refuse to
touch the domain of magic; nor can we exclude its consideration
even from the highest topics of religious speculation. Some general
remarks have already been made291.2 concerning the part played by
magic both in the worship and in the social life of the peoples that we
are comparing. Any exact and detailed comparison would be fruitless
for our present purpose; for, while the knowledge of early Babylonian
magic is beginning to be considerable, we cannot say that we know
anything definite concerning the practices in this department of the
Hellenic and adjacent peoples in the early period with which we are
dealing. From the Homeric poems we can gather little more than that
magic of some kind existed; and that Homer and his gifted audience
probably despised it as they despised ghosts and demons. It is only
by inference that we can venture to ascribe to the earliest period of
the Greek race some of the magic rites that are recorded by the later
writers. It would require a lengthy investigation and treatise to range
through the whole of Greek ritual and to disentangle and expose the
magic element which was undoubtedly there, and which in some
measure is latent in the ritual of every higher religion yet examined.
By way of salient illustration we may quote the ceremonies of the
scapegoat and the φαρμακός,292.1 modes of the magic-transference
of sin and evil; the strewing of sacred food-stuff that is instinct with
divine potency over the fields in the Thesmophoria; the rain magic
performed by the priests of Zeus Lykaios;292.2 we hear at Kleonai of
an official class of “Magi” who controlled the wind and the weather by
spells, and occasionally in their excitement gashed their own hands,
like the priests of Baal;292.3 such blood-magic being explicable as a
violent mode of discharging personal energy upon the outer objects
which one wishes to subdue to one’s will. Another and more thrilling
example of blood-magic is the process of water-finding by pouring
human blood about the earth, a method revealed by an old legend of
Haliartos in Boeotia about the man who desired water, and in order
to find it consulted Delphi, and was recommended by the oracle to
slay the first person who met him on his return; his own young son
met him first, and the father stabbed him with his sword; the
wounded youth ran round about, and wherever the blood dripped
water sprang up from the earth.293.1 No one will now venture to say
that all these things are post-Homeric; the natural view is that they
were an inheritance of crude and primitive thought indigenous to the
land. Many of them belong to world-wide custom; on the other hand,
some of the striking and specialised rites, such as the blood-magic
and the ritual of the φαρμακός, are not found at Babylon.
But before prejudging the question, some salient and peculiar
developments of Babylonian magic ought to be considered. One
great achievement of Mesopotamian civilisation was the early
development of astrology, to which perhaps the whole world has
been indebted for good and for evil, and which was associated with
magic and put to magic uses. Astrological observation led to the
attachment of a magic value to numbers and to certain special
numbers, such as number seven. Whether the Judaic name and
institution of the Sabbath is of Babylonian origin or not, does not
concern our question. But it concerns us to know that the seventh
days, the 14th, the 21st, and 28th of certain months, if not of all,
were sacred at Babylon, and were days of penance and piacular
duties when ordinary occupation was suspended.293.2 We can
discern the origin of the sanctity of this number: the observation of
the seven planets, and the division of the lunar month into four
quarters of seven days. The early Greeks, doubtless, had their
astrological superstitions, as most races have had; the new moon is
naturally lucky, the waning moon unlucky; but no one can discover
any numerical or other principle in the Hesiodic system, which is our
earliest evidence of Hellenic lucky and unlucky days. His scheme is
presented in naïve confusion, and he concludes humorously, “one
man praises one day, one another, and few know anything about
it.”294.1 His page of verse reflects the anarchy of the Greek
calendars; and we should find it hard to credit that either Hesiod or
the legislators that drew up those had sat attentively at the feet of
Babylonian teachers. But a few coincidences may be noted. Hesiod
puts a special tabu on the fifth day of the month; in fact, it is the only
one in his list that is wholly unlucky, a day when it would seem to be
best to do nothing at all, at least outside the house, for on this day
the Erinyes are wandering about.294.2 Now, a Babylonian text
published by Dr. Langdon contains the dogma that on the fifth day of
Nisan “he who fears Marduk and Zarpanit shall not go out to
work.”294.3 This Babylonian rule is the earliest example of what may
be strictly called Sabbatarianism, abstinence from work through fear
of offending the high god. Such would probably not be the true
account of Hellenic feeling concerning the “forbidden days,” which
were called ἀποφράδες or μιαραί.294.4 The high god had issued to
the Hellene no moral commandment about “keeping the Sabbath-
day holy”; his reluctance to do certain work on certain days rested on
a more primitive sentiment concerning them. Thus it was unlucky
both for himself and the city that Alcibiades should return to the
Piraeus when the Plynteria were going on; for this latter was a
cathartic ceremony, and evil influences were abroad. Nor, as
Xenophon declares, would any one venture to engage in a serious
work on this day.295.1 Nor were these μιαραὶ ᾑμέραι, like the seventh
days of the Babylonian months, necessarily days of gloom when
offended deities had to be propitiated; on the contrary, the day of
Χόες was a day of merry drinking and yet μιαρά: in fact, we best
understand the latter phrase by translating it “tabooed,” rather than
“sad” or “gloomy.”295.2
Another coincidence that may arrest attention is that in Hesiod’s
scheme the seventh day of the month was sacred because Apollo
was born on it; and throughout the later period this god maintains his
connection with the seventh day, also apparently with the first, the
fourteenth, and the twentieth of the month.295.3 This almost coincides
with the Sabbatical division of the Babylonian months. But we cannot
suppose that in Hellas these were days of mortification as they were
in the East; else they would not have been associated with the bright
deity Apollo.
Such dubious coincidences, balanced by still more striking
diversities, are but frail supports for the hypothesis of race-contact.
In Babylonian thaumaturgy nothing is more significant than the
magic power of the Word, whether spoken or written: and the Word,
as we have noted, was raised to a cosmic divine power and
possessed inherent creative force.295.4 This is only a reflection upon
the heavens of the human use of the magical or mesmeric word or
set of words. This use of them is found, indeed, all round the globe.
What seems unique in the Mesopotamian culture is that religion,
religious literature, and poetry should have reached so high a pitch
and yet never have risen above or shaken off the magic which is its
constant accompaniment. Men and gods equally use magic against
the demons; the most fervid hymn of praise, the most pathetic litany,
is only part of an exorcism-ritual; and so inevitably does the shadow
of magic dog religion here that Dr. Langdon is justified in his
conjecture296.1 that in a great hymn to Enlil, which contains scarcely