And a worshipper of Bacchus! Not that Forrester had anything against the orgiastic rites indulged in by the Dionysians, the Panites, the Apollones or even the worst and wildest of them all, the Venerans. If that was how the Gods wanted to be worshipped, then that was how they should be worshipped.
And, as a matter of fact, it sounded like fun—if, Forrester considered, entirely too public for his taste.
If he preferred the quieter rites of Athena, or of Juno, Diana or Ceres—and even Ceresians became a little wild during the spring fertility rites, especially in the country, where the farmers depended on her for successful crops—well, that was no more than a personal preference.
But the idea of Ed Symes involved in a Bacchic orgy was just a little too much for the normal mind, or the normal stomach.
"Hey," Ed said suddenly. "Where's Gerda? Still in the Temple?"
"I didn't see her," Forrester said. There had been a woman who'd looked like her. But that hadn't been Gerda. She'd have waited for him here.
And—
"Funny," Ed said.
"Why?" Forrester said. "I didn't see her. I don't think she attended the service this morning, that's all."
He wanted very badly to hit Symes. Just once. But he knew he couldn't.