But the priest seized her shoulder again. “Get out,” he stormed. “The priests even now are coming up the road with visitors. Get out, I say.”
Theria had no time for either dignity or resistance. The youth pushed her out of the cella, across the temple porch and down the steps.
She fled across the platform. A single glance showed her the whole Precinct below. The little shrines, unearthly in new golden light, the bronze tripods all aglitter. Yes, and the Way! The priests coming up the Way. She was in terror—not of punishment, but of more unkindness. She was almost sobbing.
CHAPTER XIII
IN PLEISTOS WOODS
She sped across the road and hid behind the Phokian offering. She could hear the priests’ pleasant voices talking of Delphi. From where she stood a little path set out here behind the shrines and treasuries. She followed it to the Precinct wall and went searching for a side gate. Found one at last. The keeper was almost asleep.
“Let me pass out,” she commanded. “Let me pass at once.”
The man spat. “Now, Missy, this here lock’s rusty. You go on down to the big gate. It won’t be far.”
“I will not go to the great gate. Be quick or I shall have you punished.” Theria’s voice had a ring of command. Besides, she did not speak the dialect of women, but the speech of men.