The high priest-archgalli Malcolm had called him,neared their position. He moved slowly, wailing in a shrill voice and weeping while beating himself with a long flail. He held a scepter made of reeds in his other hand. Behind him came sweating bearers with a heavy litter. On it rode the gilded statue of a gorgeous young man in a soft, peaked cap. His “shirt” was open to the groin, leaving his chest and belly bare to well below the navel. His trousers were carved with diamond shaped cutouts like a Harlequin’s costume. In one hand he held what looked like a walking cane.
In the other, he held a small tympani drum exactly like the ones carried by wailing priests who trailed behind. They beat their drums with flails, then beat themselves, then sounded the tympanies again. Priests behind them, also wailing at the top of their lungs, carried more of the reed scepters. Behind them came another litter earned by sweating priests. On it was a statue of a tree. Sunstruck pine cones glittered with gold leaf
”A pine tree?” Margo asked doubtfully.
”Shh! Later! Look!”
Margo widened her eyes. “My God…”
Half a dozen men each held thick leather leashes which chained a pair of lions. The huge cats glared at the crowd with hateful amber eyes. Margo clutched Malcolm’s arm. “They’re not even caged!” The lion handlers were sweating profusely, dragging on the leashes to keep their charges in the center of the street. Behind the stalking lions came another great litter. On it rode a gilded statue of a tall, beautiful woman. She rode a chariot drawn by lions.