HETAERA: Daughter of the Gods (13 page)

I glanced at the slave who accompanied me. He
tipped his chin at me and left but I did not go into the chamber. Instead, I
lingered in the corridor with my hand pressed against the cool stone wall for
support.

“He would have killed the girl, had I not
intervened! You know this!” Aesop’s voice continued. “He…he is unwell, Iadmon. And
he will not leave her be! Remember the amount of coin you had to pay restitution
to appease the other women’s families? Send the boy back to his mother on
Samos.”

“Aesop, you have been a faithful teacher and I
know your words are true. But I will not confine my son to a bit of floating
rock. He is my heir. My only son.”

“Better that rock, than a prison. He will face
ostracism, here. Especially after it becomes known he beat that courtesan to
death.”

The breath whooshed from my lungs. The lovely
woman, whose shawl I’d coveted…
dead
?
She’d never returned.
I’d thought her very wealthy, to have forgotten such a treasure.
Dead
?
Perspiration broke out under my arms.

“Why should they care so much about one
chamaitype
?
There are hundreds of whores roaming the city.” But Iadmon sounded afraid.

“She was not a simple whore and you know it. She
was a
hetaera
. The Abderans regard them almost as highly as the
Athenians do.”

Iadmon sighed. “Then we shall leave Abdera. We can
go to Thebes or Knossos. I hear they have a very fine assembly there. You can
teach him to be a proper man, be his mentor.”

“And then?” Aesop was angry now. “Will the
assembly protect the women of Knossos from your son? Will they protect your
slave, Doricha? Your property?” Aesop thundered. “Will both you and your son be
denied the Elysian Fields because of injustices inflicted on your chattel?”

“Calm down, Aesop. We are upstanding citizens; we
are good and pious people. We make many sacrifices. They would not dare!”

“Who knows what may be in the hearts of the gods?”
Aesop resorted to his maddening defense of dispute by way of questioning. “Are
they rulers of men, or by men do they rule? Think carefully. You may well risk
your soul on the answer.”

There was another long pause.

So, we were all to move away to another city,
another terror-filled, rented house where The Swine would attack me as he
pleased, simply because his father refused to send him away. I could not bear
to live in this house, or to move to any other. Ah, such was the life of a
slave, and how well I’d learnt it. What is a female slave compared to a son?

I’d had enough of skulking in hallways. Being
privy to my master’s thoughts did me little good for I could not speak for
myself. I might as well find out what fate awaited me.

“You sent for me?” I entered and knelt before
Iadmon, affixing my vision to the stone tiles at Iadmon’s feet.

I remembered the anguish in my father’s voice as
he called for me to run, to live free.
He knew
, I thought.
He
knew
.

“Come in, girl.” Iadmon spoke, breaking the awkward
silence. “I have decided.”

I bowed my head, no ready argument on my lips. His
decision was fixed already. What could I say to sway him?

“A slave is not his own man.” Iadmon continued. “He
can make no choice on where to build his home, nor the path by which he will
earn his food and keep. There is danger in the world, for a slave. I have
decided, therefore, I will grant you your freedom.”

I could not believe my ears!

My breath caught in my throat. My heart nearly
burst from my chest. The gods shone on me this day, to grant me the freedom I
so desperately desired. An overwhelming wave of relief flooded me. I would not
have to stay in this household. I would not have to stay, at all!

Then, I lifted my gaze from the floor and saw my
master’s stare directed not at me, but at Aesop. My old mentor appeared almost
as shocked as I.

Then, I saw red.

The color flushed and crawled its way up Aesop’s
neck to the skin under his beard and stained his cheeks. He opened his lips,
closed them, and opened them again, but for once, he had nothing to say.

I fisted my hands at my sides. I burned and froze
inside my soul. Aesop was my friend, my mentor! He was the only one who
protected me. Without him I would be utterly alone.

“They cannot come for you if you are not here,
Aesop. In this one thing, let me be your teacher. This solves everything. You
are free, my friend. Wander far from Greece. Your knowledge is wasted on us
all.”

Aesop took one stumbling step forward. He almost
tripped over me as I knelt before Iadmon. I think he’d quite forgotten me.

Aesop clasped Iadmon’s hand and embraced him. They
towered over me, like a rocking column of manhood. As a mere woman, I was still
on my knees, alone, and cowering beneath them.

“Now, then. As to the other matter. Take this girl
to Samos. Let her work in my wife’s household.” Iadmon released him.

Aesop frowned. “That is unwise. They are one and
the same. Your son will follow her there.”

“Why should he? He detests his mother’s house. And
there are plenty of women here or wherever we travel. She will be forgotten, if
she has not already.” Iadmon sipped from his cup.

Aesop eyed me. Perhaps he felt a flash of guilt.

“No, Iadmon. There are very few like this one. She
will only grow more beautiful, and your son’s vanity has been cheated. He will
not let her be. You owe her this much for the wounds he has already inflicted.”

Iadmon considered me. It was as if he’d never seen
me before. I flinched at the depth with which his eyes touched me. “Take her to
Samos,” he ordered. He ran a shaking palm over his brows and turned away from
us both.

Aesop made a noise to protest and Iadmon held up a
hand.

“No, no…not to my wife. Bring her to Xanthes. He
is a friend. Tell him to take Doricha away and sell her to someone who will
care for her. Someone who can afford to protect her. A man without sons. Promise
me, Aesop, as a last request from your master. For the sake of my soul and that
of my son’s, promise me, you will do this thing.”

Aesop glanced at me. “As you wish.”

*** ***

We boarded a ship for the island of Samos a week
later, when at last my bleeding had stopped. I had no fond farewells for any
save for Kailoise. Her face flushed and she put a kitchen rag over her head and
wept, as we hurried out of the gates. It seemed I should always be leaving
someone I cared for behind. Aesop and I shouldered our meager things and walked
the city streets to the docks. White seabirds cried and wheeled overhead, as if
to mock me.

He was in a fine mood, whistling as we loaded
provisions for the short trip onto a small vessel with a square white sail. He
stopped when I glared at him.

“I have been a slave since I was born,” he said as
if by way of an apology.

“You were
never
a slave,” I replied,
allowing my anger to taint my words with bitterness. “You lived better than any
slave, a friend and teacher to your wealthy master.” I tossed a sack of onions
into the hull. “What do you know of slavery?”

“And what do you know of my life? I was born into
slavery, the son of the son of a slave!” Aesop tucked a crate of chickens into
the boat cargo, a gift for Xanthes the Samian. “Do not think you know my heart
so well!”

My innards ignited with righteous fire.

“It should have been
me
,” I spat. “The
Swine never harmed you.
My
life was risked--
my
body
violated. It should have been me who was given freedom.”

Aesop rounded on me. “You are a foolish girl. Do
you think to be the only woman who has ever cried to the gods for mercy from
the prick of an unwanted spear? The goddesses themselves were raped. Lido,
Alcmene…Bah! Even my own mother. You are not so much a child as to
misunderstand these things. You are simply a woman. And this world was not made
for women.”

“Woman or no, I was born free and sold against my
will!” I retorted. “Which of us has the right to freedom? You, who have never
known it, or one who had it snatched from her?”

It was true! What could a lifelong slave know of
my suffering? Me, who once tread the hallowed paths of the gods, now forced to
this low and base status. I should not be, I vowed. For the sake of my proud
father and my beautiful mother, it should not.

Aesop was silent. He stared out across the docks
into the sea for a long time.

“There are some who say to teach a woman is to
give more poison to a serpent. Now I can see why,” he said. “You shame me with
your words, Doricha. Me. A
man
. May the gods have mercy on me for
giving you the power to do so.”

We loaded the rest of the vessel in silence and
climbed aboard.

The oar master set upon his drum with a fury which
matched my own. I wondered what he’d heard of our exchange, but his face
remained as impassive. The wretched creatures, dock slaves, hunched in rows
behind long, wooden paddles, muscles bunching with strain as we sailed far from
shore and everything I’d ever known.

*** ***

I’d never sailed before.

My stomach lurched as we pushed off.

It is no small thing to leave the soil of one’s
birth behind. My tears were bitterer than any ocean spray. The gentle swell and
splash of the water took
the
place of
solid rock beneath my feet. I have heard sailors fear a woman on ship. If they
gave me any dark looks, I did not notice, but stared out over the waters and offered
my sorrow to the gods.

It wasn’t fair, I thought.

I did not understand what I had done to be so
cursed by the gods. Did I not honor them with my face and figure? Did I not
attend the religious services in Iadmon’s household dutifully, as I ought?

But after many hours measured by the oarsmen’s
drum, the angry fire in my breast burnt itself out.

I eyed Aesop, standing at the railing furthest
from shore. The decision had rested entirely with Iadmon, I knew this. Aesop had
done his best to spare me further pain. He was my protector. It was not his
fault that men receive the blessings while women must bear the curses. I’d
wronged him, and I do hate to be wrong.

So, I went to the prow of the vessel to make my
peace with him.

“See there, Doricha? It is the walls of Troy we
pass,” he said. “Soon we will skirt the island of Lesbos. Have you traveled
there?” His words were amiable, even if his eyes were a touch cautious.

I shook my head. I’d never been outside of my own
village until my flight to the temple.

“No?” Aesop continued. “Well, the Greeks rested
there after they defeated Troy. It’s an important trade port. A city of
politics, culture and finery. Why, Sappho herself hails from the island. You
would do Sappho proud with your words, you know.”

“Sappho?”

“A famed poetess and more. She carries power in
the city of Mytilene--no small feat for a woman, as you can well imagine.”

“A
woman
?” Such a thing might be
harder for a man to consider, than I. Still, I was surprised. “Is she
hetaerae
?”
I asked.

“No, no. She hosts an
academia
of
sorts for young women of the upper echelons. Lovers, poets, musicians…they
compose new marriage hymns and play music without peer, or so I’m told. Perhaps
we should stop there for the midday meal. I would not be unwelcome in her
home.” He glanced at me out of the corner of his eye, as if to judge my
reaction.

I could not stay angry at him.

“I am sorry if my words caused you pain, Aesop. You
are not the one I blame.” My apology curdled in my mouth.

How I loathed admitting fault! If only I could
learn to curb my tongue, I should never have to apologize again.

“I know.” He looked satisfied.

We circumnavigated the isle of Lesbos until we
reached the docks of the white, shining city of Mytilene on the northeastern
side of the island. The city itself gleamed on the side of the hilltop, like a
maze of pearled steps leading upwards to the gods.

Aesop spoke true. Mytilene was very beautiful.

I was glad Aesop had suggested we stop. My stomach
was not accustomed to sea travel. I came close to spewing my morning meal. I
was already tired of the salt crusting my hair and my clothing. The sun’s rays
reflected off the waves, and I felt sweat, slick and dripping, beneath my armpits
and the backs of my knees.

The rowers and captain elected to stay aboard. One
of them made a reference to a newly born calf, and they snickered at us as we
departed. Our unsteady legs amused them after the many hours spent at sea. Aesop
led me through the busy streets to a public bathhouse where he spent some of
the coin Iadmon had given him.

We began in the
laconicums
, the
separate sweat baths for males and females, built in the form of a rotunda,
with a roof that tapered off into a cone shape with a round opening at the top.
A bronze lid operated by chains could seal the opening, controlling the
temperature.

Aesop sent a slave to inquire at the home of
Sappho and we cleansed ourselves while we waited for a response. I sighed, and
allowed the knots in my shoulders to loosen in the warm, scented humidity. After
a suitable sheen built on my skin, we moved to a tepid water bath, followed by
a massage of scented oils. Flowers were strung through my hair, which curled
prettily around my face. I felt almost myself.

Soon enough, the slave returned with an invitation
inviting Aesop and I to call upon the Poetess of Mytilene.