ePublishing
by
BooksForABuck.com
ISBN:
1-60215-041-9
/
ISBN-13:
978-1-60215-041-6
Copyright
2006
by
Kristina
O’Donnelly,
aka
Kristin
V.
Donnelly
all
rights
reserved.
Dedicated
to the
Memory
of
Louise
Halley
Forshaw
This
sample
contains
the
opening
scenes
to
KORINNA
only.
You
can
purchase
the
entire
novel,
in
multiple
electronic
formats,
directly
from
BooksForABuck.com.
Chapter
1:
Prey
PANIC
SLAMMED
AT
KORINNA
the
instant
she
burst
out of
her
gray-walled
cell.
The
passage
into
the
vast
temple
curved
before
her
like a
giant
necklace
strung
with
cells
of the
other
girls.
At its
end,
like a
pendant,
stood
the
many-breasted
statue
of
Artemis,
the
Virgin
Goddess,
symbol
of the
temple
but
also
of
abundance,
hunting
and
wild
life.
Making
a
quick
curtsy
as she
ran
by,
she
streaked
through
the
sanctuary
and
out
into
the
street.
Forced
to
pause,
she
had to
blink
several
times
to
clear
her
sight.
The
deserted
Sacred
Way
stretched
far
into
the
distance,
sunlit,
its
whiteness
shimmering
with
heat,
blinding
her
after
the
dark
temple.
The
columns
bordering
it
stood
like
forbidding
priestesses.
She
threw
back a
worried
glance,
first
at the
marble
Goddess
with
her
crown
and a
garland
of
flowers
on her
breasts,
then
at the
temple,
and
smiled
with
relief:
Good,
no one
was
following
her!
Not
even
Nefru,
the
starving,
gray
calico
kitten
she
had
adopted
last
year
and
who
proved
himself
invaluable
by
decimating
the
mice
that
plagued
the
premises.
Just
as
importantly,
Nefru
intimidated
and
silenced
the
many
garden
spirits
–
those
invisible,
mischievous
beings
that
played
havoc
among
the
trees,
shrubs,
stones
and
fountains
of
these
ancient
grounds.
Drawing
a deep
breath
for
much
needed
courage,
Korinna
set
out at
a fast
jog.
Her
knee-length
green
chiton
had
ample
folds,
allowing
her
freedom
of
movement
without
getting
entangled.
She
had
walked
this
way
only
yesterday
with
other
temple
servitors
in
honor
of the
new
governor’s
arrival
in
Ephesus,
so she
had no
fear
of
getting
lost.
The
sense
of
suffocating
within
the
musty
walls
of her
cell
was
still
prevalent.
Nevertheless,
venturing
out
into
the
big
city
terrified
her.
But
her
need
was
worse;
it had
grown
steadily
from
the
time
she
realized
she
was
kept
away
from
the
other
girls
— for
what
reason?
Thankfully,
today
her
mentor
had
left
her
alone
for
these
few
hours.
Her
mind
raced.
Driven
by
terror
though
she
was,
she
had to
know
the
truth
about
herself.
It was
nothing
new
that
she
had
neither
parents
nor
other
family.
However,
yesterday,
Livia
had
insinuated
terrible
things
about
her
origin.
Korinna
had
never
been
out
without
a
chaperone,
yet
she
knew
that
in the
city
footprints
carved
into
the
paving
would
lead
her to
Melitta’s
house,
the
one
person
who
might
enlighten
her.
The
Sacred
Way, a
marble-paved
road,
snaked
onward
from
the
Artemiseion
to
Ephesus,
a
major
coastal
city
hearkening
to the
Trojan-era
Carians
and
Lydians,
today
embracing
250,000
freedmen
and
slaves
ruled
by
Rome.
The
Artemiseion,
first
started
by
King
Croesus,
had
taken
120
years
to
complete.
Through
Ephesus,
hailed
goods
from
exotic
China
and
the
eastern
provinces
bound
for
Italy.
Wide,
paved
avenues,
huge
public
buildings,
squares,
and
terraced
mansions
impressed
visitors
from
the
four
corners
of the
world.
Thus,
the
Romans
referred
to
Ephesus
as
“the
first
and
greatest
metropolis
of
Asia.”
She
had
been
along
the
Sacred
Way
with
other
novices
on
festival
days —
always
guarded
by
mentors.
The
Way
into
the
city
was
long,
dotted
with
small
shrines,
statues
and
foliage
along
the
sides,
and
when
she
arrived
there
at
last,
she
was
perspiring
and
winded.
The
marble
city
and
the
smooth
street
were
far
larger
and
broader
than
she
remembered
from
her
last
foray,
disturbing
her.
The
raised
walkway
was
terrifyingly
close
to the
houses
that
bordered
it.
Windows,
some
of
glass
and
others
covered
with
translucent
rice
paper
framed
in
wooden
latticework,
stared
blankly
at
her.
Everyone
was
sleeping
away
the
blistering
noon
hours.
Korinna
scarcely
recognized
herself
as she
glimpsed
her
flustered
image
in an
occasional
glassed
window,
her
face
pinched
with
worry
behind
her
flying
veil.
Her
heart
fluttered
beneath
her
throat,
a
terrified
bird
desperate
to
break
free
from
its
cage.
No,
no, it
could
not be
true
that
she
belonged
to
that
other
place,
the
Grove!
The
Grove
of
Venus-Aphrodite.
The
girls
had
whispered,
looking
at her
as
pale-eyed
Livia
snickered
knowingly.
When
stern-faced,
gray-haired
High
Priestess
Thenis
came
into
the
courtyard,
they
had
scattered,
but
giggling
behind
hands
covering
their
sly
mouths.
In all
the
fifteen
years
of her
life,
Korinna
had
not
wondered
about
her
parentage.
There
had
been
no
need
to.
The
other
girls
too
were
either
waifs
like
her,
or
unwanted
daughters
brought
to the
shrine
by
their
parents,
as
offering
to the
Goddess.
That
other
place,
the
Grove,
was
where
girls
considered
surpluses
were
sent
upon
reaching
womanhood.
But in
the
Temple,
she
had
had
the
good
fortune
of an
extensive
training
to
read
and
write
in
several
languages
as
well
as
cipher,
and
now
reminded
herself
that
Melitta
might
help
her
find
such
work
to
support
herself.
Laconic
Thenis,
though
never
one to
easily
hand
out
compliments,
did
brag
that
Korinna
was
one of
the
best
students
in the
Temple’s
long
history,
fluent
in
several
languages,
even
able
to
translate
many
of the
ancient
cuneiform
and
hieroglyphic
texts.
Thenis
had
told
her
that
she
was
named
after
Korinna,
the
ancient
Greek
poetess
from
Boeotia,
renowned
as the
instructress
and
rival
of the
Theban
poet
Pindar,
whom
she
had
beaten
without
trouble
in a
poetry
contest.
Unlike
Pindar,
Korinna’s
poems
had
focused
on
local
myths,
drawing
parallels
between
the
world
of
mythology
and
ordinary
human
behavior.
In
honor
of her
win, a
monument
had
been
erected
to
her,
unleashing
malicious
gossip.
A sore
loser,
Pindar
had
claimed
that
she’d
won
due to
her
beauty
and
not
talent,
and
had
called
her a
sow.
But
even
though
hundreds
of
years
had
passed
since
her
death,
her
poems
were
still
being
read,
and
recently
Antipater
of
Thessalonica
had
listed
Korinna
the
Poetess
in his
catalogue
of
Nine
Mortal
Muses.
Uplifted
by the
thought
of her
namesake’s
victory
over
colicky
Pindar,
Korinna
smiled
to
herself.
She
had
always
looked
up to
this
poetess,
a
self-assured,
strong,
independent-minded
woman,
and
strived
to be
worthy
of
being
given
her
name.
Walking
along
at a
more
normal
pace,
her
mind
switched
to
other
things
that
Thenis
had
hinted
about
Melitta.
Yet,
strangely,
Thenis
had
taken
her
there
often
enough,
on
visits
imbued
with
secrecy.
She
had
listened
to
them
discussing
the
invasions
of
Greek
colonies
by
Roman
and
Pontine
armies.
Silently
she
had
wondered
what
these
two
women
had to
do
with
military
concerns.
Ephesus
was
securely
ruled
by
Rome,
under
a
Roman
governor.
However,
these
visits
gave
her
the
sense
that
Melitta
cared
about
her,
and
would
help
when
asked.
Indeed,
Melitta,
wealthy
and
influential,
must
know
of
someone
who
would
hire
her
away
from
the
Artemiseion….
Everything
was
eerily
quiet
when
Korinna
reached
the
agora
–
marketplace.
Built
as a
square,
the
agora
was
surrounded
by
columns.
It had
three
gates,
one
from
the
front
of the
theatre
on the
northeast,
the
other
one
opening
to the
harbor
on the
west,
and
the
third
one
from
the
library.
The
north
side
of the
agora
was
left
open,
and a
portico,
filled
with
rows
of
shops,
surrounded
the
other
three
sides.
At the
center
of it
were a
sundial
and a
water
clock.
The
stalls
were
shuttered,
of
course,
for it
was
the
time
of
afternoon
rest.
They
would
open
again
in the
cool
of the
early
evening.
By
then
she
would
be
back,
enriched
by the
knowledge
of her
origin
and
with
the
hope
of
independence
as
well.
Korinna
looked
for
the
footprints
carved
into
the
street
leading
from
the
harbor
to the
Street
of
Joy.
Often
had
she
overheard
Melitta
tell
Thenis
that
anyone
could
find
her by
following
the
scarred
ones –
“Scarred
from
so
much
use,”
she
had
laughed
meaningfully.
“If
the
child
ever
gets
bored
with
that
drab
life
she
has
with
you,
Thenis,
look
out!”
Melitta
had
added,
“There’s
fire
in
her.
She
will
be at
the
end of
those
backwards
footprints
yet!
They
lead
to the
same
freedom
that I
enjoy.”
She
had
laughed
again,
looking
pleased
by the
older
woman’s
shocked
denial.
As her
memory
tripped,
Korinna
made a
connection
with
Livia’s
taunt.
The
urgency
gnawing
at her
insides,
increased
manifold.
Aghh,
she
had to
find
Melitta!
Besides,
she
admitted,
Melitta
was
the
only
person
she
knew
outside
the
sequestered
Temple.
Now
she
saw
the
marks.
They
were
cut
deeply
into
the
white
marble
street,
and
crossed
the
vast
market
area.
There
were
several
sets
passing
through
and
multiplying
off
into
different
streets.
Then
she
remembered
that
Melitta
had
said
the
Scarred
Ones.
Indeed,
this
would
lead
her to
the
house
of
Melitta!
Korinna
reached
where
the
prints
met,
and
then
found
the
scarred
ones.
Melitta
had
said
backwards,
hadn’t
she?
She
began
running
along
them,
eyes
to the
pavement.
As she
noticed
the
sail-furled
masts,
she
realized
she
was
near
the
harbor.
Sudden
fear
leapt
up at
her
from
the
road.
She
shuddered,
freezing
mid-step.
A
strong
sense
of
approaching
menace
floated
in the
air.
Eyes
widening,
her
panicked
gaze
swept
her
surroundings.
Ah,
she
was in
an
area
of
warehouses.
The
footprints
went
toward
the
ships
– no,
they
came
away
from
there….
Sounds
of
drunken
laughter
made
her
swallow
her
breath,
and
she
glanced
around
again,
unsure
for
what.
The
sounds
came
closer;
it
would
be
prudent
to
find
some
shelter.
Alas,
there
was no
space
where
she
could
hide
quickly.
She
turned
to
retrace
her
steps,
but it
was
too
late.
Three
young
men
staggered
jauntily
around
the
corner
of a
blank-fronted
warehouse,
one of
them
recognizable
as a
Roman
legionary,
wearing
no
helmet
but
light
leather
armor
over a
short
red
tunic,
and
greaves,
metal
shin
guards
strapped
on
behind
the
knees
and
ankles.
She
knew
that
greaves
were
not
worn
by
Romans
of any
rank,
save
for
centurion,
as a
badge
of
office.
They
came
toward
her,
bumping
into
each
other
amid
laughter.
Their
raucous
voices
grated
on her
ears.
At
times,
they
dipped
off
the
walkway
into
the
street.
Drunken
louts!
Signaling
trouble
for
her.
“Keep
your
feet
on the
footsteps,
Tiberius!”
one of
the
men
roared
at the
centurion,
and
bent
down
to
touch
the
carved
markings.
The
others
laughed
and
hallooed,
one
flapping
his
arms
as he
leaned
forward
to
look,
while
another
danced
off
into
the
street
and
back
as he
tried
to
stand
still.
“The
city
of
Ephesus
knows
what
woman-starved
men
like
us
need!”
He
broke
out in
peals
of
laughter,
“The
name
Ephesus
means
Maiden
of
Choice,
or
Desirable,
and
she
sure
lives
up to
her
name!
I’m so
desirous
of her
that
I’ve
just
reached
the
end of
my
rope!”
They
howled
with
appreciative
laughter,
grabbing
at
each
other
playfully
below
the
belly
while
the
first
one
declared,
“But
no
limp
ropes
here,
lads!”
Korinna
turned
and
ran as
if a
bat
let
loose
from
Vulcan’s
workshop.
She
had
seen
no one
carrying
a
rope,
limp
or
otherwise,
but
something
about
their
shifty-eyed
amusement
terrified
her.
“Look
at
that!”
cried
one
from
behind
her in
delighted
surprise,
and
she
knew
herself
to be
“that.”
She
pumped
faster,
looking
for
any
kind
of
space
between
the
solid
line
of
buildings.
No,
there
was no
escape!
The
clatter
of
unsteady
metal-soled
sandals
cut
space
between
her
and
her
pursuers.
If
only
she
could
get to
a
place
where
someone
might
see
her
and
help.
“Merciful
Goddess,
divine
Virgin,
help
me!”
Labored
breath
seared
her
throat,
heat
from
stones
shimmered
up
into
her
gasping
mouth.
How
long
could
she
hold
out at
this
pace?
Korinna
continued
running
as in
a bad
dream,
her
pursuers’
breath
panting
ever
closer.
Self-incrimination
for
daring
to be
out on
the
city
streets,
whipped
her.
Simultaneously
anger
raised
its
head,
pointing
out
that
while
everyone
knew
venturing
out in
a
storm
might
cause
being
struck
by
lightning,
those
who
had
to go
out
never
let
this
possibility
stand
in
their
way.
Suddenly
a hand
seized
her
veil
and
she
turned
and
ran
from
under
it,
gold-streaked
dark
red
hair
streaming
behind
her.
Her
lungs
were
about
to
burst!
She
could
no
longer
see,
she
only
moved,
her
feet
pounding,
hands
plunging
forward,
every
muscle
wrenched
with
pain.
Sounds
of a
heavy
fall
at her
heels,
and a
hand
seized
her
ankle.
Korinna
dropped
in a
heap
at the
edge
of the
square,
tangled
with
the
three
men.
“Got
her!
Stay
away
Septimus,
she is
mine,”
the
dark-haired
tall
one
they
called
Tiberius,
boasted.
Pulling
her
ankle,
he
dragged
her to
himself
and
struggled
to his
knees.
“No!
She
looks
Greek,
and
you’re
Roman,
so
she’s
for
me,”
Glaucus
yelled,
grabbing
her
other
foot.
Wanting
to
scream
and to
cry,
she
held
back,
struggling
stoically.
What
were
they
trying
to do
to
her?
Tear
her
apart
limb
by
limb?
“Who
says
she’s
Greek
or
Roman?”
the
third
one
roared,
staggering
to his
feet.
“I,
Septimus,
declare:
With
that
hair
she’s
likely
from
Celtia.
Free
for
all,
anyway,
out of
her
house.
I
mean:
Slave
to
all!”
He
roared
at his
own
humor
as he
bent
unsteadily
above
them.
Korinna
could
not
hold
back
the
screams
now,
and
struggled,
managing
to sit
up and
beat
against
the
hands
that
held
her.
Her
robe
was
around
her
hips
in
tight
wrinkles,
revealing
her
thighs
and to
them
she
feared
a
glimpse
of
something
more
tantalizing.
She
tugged
to
free
her
feet
and
flailed
against
the
two
men.
They
held
on,
staring
greedily
until
Tiberius
pulled
her
skirt
down
to her
knees.
“Shame
on
you,
fellows,”
he
chuckled,
“in
public,
too!”
He
dragged
her up
to her
feet
and
dizzy
with
gratitude,
she
clung
to
him.
She
could
no
longer
hold
back
the
sobs,
“Oh,
please,
please,
help
me!”
“By
all
means,
little
one,”
and he
patted
her
buttocks.
“Where
is
your
house?”
“I’m
from
the
Temple!”
she
gasped,
“I
have
no
house.”
“Oh,
so
we’ve
snared
a real
prize,”
the
man
declared.
“Hear
that,
fellows?
Venus
be
praised!
Only I
have
not a
fit
offering
with
me
now,
to
pay.
We can
manage
that
afterward.”
The
other
two
scrambled
to
their
feet,
sobering
somewhat.
One
took a
lock
of her
hair
and
pulled
as he
tried
groping
her
breasts.
“No
you
don’t,
Septimus,”
Glaucus
said.
“She’s
certainly
not
yours
alone,
Glaucus!”
muttered
Septimus.
“Surely
you’ve
heard
of the
Grove
of
Aphrodite,”
Glaucus
cut
in.
“The
sacred
priestesses
there
prostitute
themselves
as
Holy
Women
in
honor
of the
Goddess.”
Tiberius
grinned,
“After
I see
what
this
Grove
is
like,
I have
business
there
with
its
esteemed
high
priestess,
Chrysanthé.
I’ll
see
that
this
little
one
returns
home
in
good
time.”
His
hands
cupped
one
breast
and
Korinna
shrank
away
in
terror.
“Aphrodite
owned
that
Grove
before
you
uncouth
Romans
ever
called
her
Venus,”
Glaucus
grunted.
Tiberius
gave
Korinna
a
quick
hug.
“You’ll
not
deny
any of
us,
will
you,
pretty
pigeon?”
Tiberius
partly
carried
her as
they
moved
along.
Korinna
could
scarcely
move
her
legs.
She no
longer
wanted
to see
Melitta;
she
had to
regain
strength
to
escape
these
drunken
men!
Down
an
alley
between
laurel
hedges
dividing
two
estates,
they
stopped.
One of
the
men
grunted
and
pulled
her
from
Tiberius’
support
to the
ground.
Muttering,
“I
can’t
hold
it,”
Glaucus
tried
to
force
his
knees
between
hers.
Some
horrible
warmth
ran
over
her
thighs
and he
cursed
while
she
screamed.
Tiberius
roared
with
laughter
and
kicked
the
man
away.
“Limp
rope –
away,
eunuch!”
Tiberius
pushed
Glaucus
against
Septimus.
Both
men
sprang
up
laughing
goodnaturedly
and
grabbed
his
arms,
wrestling
him
back
among
the
laurels.
Korinna
surged
to her
feet
and
ran,
fresh
energy
powering
her
legs.
Tiberius
thrust
the
others
into
the
bushes
and
strode
after
her.
He
grabbed
a
handful
of
hair
and
flung
her to
the
ground.
“Here,
my
little
pigeon,
look,
a real
man
for
you at
last!”
She
twisted
her
head
from
side
to
side,
screaming,
but
his
fingers
caught
strands
of her
hair
at the
temples,
stilling
her.
He
kissed
her,
his
teeth
grinding
against
her
lips.
Wrapping
the
strands
about
her
throat,
he
almost
choked
her.
The
glowing
mass
of
hair
spread
in
tangled
swatches
upon
the
earth.
Her
heart
nearly
burst
as she
felt
herself
go
weak
all
over
with
terror.
He
smoothed
her
hair
back
from
her
throat,
muttering
in her
ear,
“That’s
it,
little
pigeon,
relax.
I’ll
pay
the
Goddess,
don’t
you
worry;
I’ll
send
great
gifts
for
your
service
to
her.”
His
hands
found
her
tender
breasts,
shoving
away
the
torn
chiton,
sending
sparks
of
gut-wrenching
pain
through
her.
Stunned,
she
was
dimly
aware
of his
leg
forcing
her
thighs
apart.
All of
a
sudden,
the
furious
high-pitched
growl
and
hiss
of a
cat
rent
the
air.
She
twisted
her
head
aside
in its
direction
just
as he
thrust
against
her.
Blind
agony
shot
through
her
making
her
scream
from
the
top of
her
lungs;
then
he
gasped,
stopped,
and
cursed.
He
gasped
again
as the
slender
cat
leapt
out
from
the
bushes
and
landed
on his
back,
sharp
claws
sinking
into
his
flesh
above
the
armor.
Without
trying
to
shake
or
pull
the
cat
off,
Tiberius
freed
her,
sat
back
on his
haunches,
crashing
her
knees,
and
stared
down
at
her.
The
cat,
Nefru,
dug
and
trailed
his
claws
downward
from
Tiberius’
neck,
but
then
released
him
and
came
to
her,
nuzzling
her.
Tiberius’
oblong
face,
topped
by
forward-combed,
thick
and
curly
black
hair,
loomed
in
Korinna’s
vision.
The
features
were
blurred
through
her
tears
and
yet
her
eyes
focused
on his
broad
forehead
crossed
by a
long,
old
scar,
and
then
the
blood
she
saw
rivuleting
from
his
neck
down
to his
heaving
chest.
Something
deep
in her
screamed
that
this
drunken
man,
who
was
doing
something
terrible
to
her,
had
been
wounded
and
felt
pain,
and
she
was
glad.
Ceasing
her
struggle,
she
watched
as the
centurion
loosened
his
iron
grip
on her
stiff
form.
“Please
stop
hurting
me!”
she
moaned
into
his
now
puzzled
eyes.
Her
own
were
dried
in the
heat
of her
terror.
“For
the
love
of
Apollo!
She’s
a
virgin,”
Tiberius
muttered
to
himself,
incredulous,
“and
from
the
Grove….”
He
rolled
off
her
but
she
was
unable
to
move.
The
residue
of
pain
in her
scalp
numbed
while
it
lingered
between
her
legs.
“Temple!”
she
managed
to
scream,
“I am
not
from
the
Grove,
you
uncouth
idiot,
but
the
Temple!
Artemiseion!”
This
concludes
the
opening
scene
to
KORINNA
by
Kristina
O’Donnelly.
You
can
buy
the
entire
eNovel,
in
multiple
electronic
formats,
directly
from
BooksForABuck.com.
TRAVELERS,
including
this
author,
have
called
Anatolia
“The
Largest
Open
Air
Museum
in the
World,”
and
one
day,
dear
Reader,
you
too
might
travel
there,
immerse
yourself
in
layer
upon
layer
of
your
own,
multi-cultural,
multi-ethnic,
multi-racial
human
history,
and
judge
it for
yourself.
Korinna,
Daughters
of the
Fire,
I,
First
edition,
November
2006
This
is a
work
of
fiction.
Names,
characters,
places
and
incidents
are
the
product
of the
author’s
imagination
or are
used
fictitiously
and
are
not to
be
construed
as
real.
Any
resemblance
to
actual
persons,
living
or
dead,
is
entirely
coincidental.
All
rights
reserved.
No
part
of
this
book
may be
reproduced
or
transmitted
in any
form,
by any
means,
electronic
or
mechanical,
including
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retrieval
system,
without
the
express
consent
of the
copyright
holder.
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Intro
and
Historical
Background
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Korinna
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