HETAERA: Daughter of the Gods (27 page)

All in all, infamy was not so difficult to
maintain. There was the tailor who declared my dancing to be legendary and sent
me a gown so fine the Greek wife of Pharaoh, Ladice, would have been jealous. Then
the butcher, who pinched my soft flesh with his hammy fingers, and sent round a
brace of roasted geese dripping with honey. The jeweler who draped my pale,
naked body with ropes of gems and precious metals.

When I knelt and took him in my mouth, as Young
Iadmon had once bade me, the jeweler sucked air into his lungs so fast, I
thought I’d bitten him. He clenched his fingers in my long hair. A moan of
pleasure escaped his lips as I used my soft hands to finish him. When he departed,
he left everything, even the wide bronze collar of jasper and carnelian that
he’d spent himself on.

It was almost a breach of etiquette, payment for
services rendered. Such would ruin my reputation as a courtesan and could
reduce me back to the streets. So, I sent it back with a sharp reprimand for
him to consider our dealings more carefully. After a week’s time, the response
was an ill-crafted poem in my honor, and an elaborate diadem of electrum and
onyx to hold back the veils in which I draped myself from Egypt’s burning red
sun. This was a far better gift, to be sure.

Only one night out of the next ten banquets did
Aesop attend, draped three times over with a bevy of Egyptian girls who fawned
over him as if he’d strung stars across the desert sky. I wondered how many of
his “gifts” to them were paid with from my own labors. I snapped at him when he
returned the next morning, reeking of fine perfumes. He cursed me as a harpy
and stormed out, with angry eyes.

The following week, Aesop received an invitation
from the Babylonian King Nebuchadnezzar, who wished to meet him and become more
worldly though Aesop’s tutelage.

“Will you go?” I asked. I already knew his answer.

“I have always wished to see his miracle gardens,”
he said, “although I’m sure they are nothing compared to yours, Doricha.”

Ah, Aesop, ever the flatterer. “Then you must tell
me of them, when I see you next.”

He opened his mouth to speak and closed it again. Finally,
he said an abrupt farewell and kissed me once on the cheek. Tears stung my eyes
as I watched him pack his things and leave.

Though my heart ached, I knew it was for the best.
We could not continue, once he’d proclaimed his love. He had too much pride and
I too much guilt to live together now.

*** ***

Men of great importance all pass through
Naukratis. Soon it was said every Greek knew my name. Tales were spread far and
wide, only half of which were based in truth. I perpetuated the rumors, by making
extravagant gestures and throwing the most intriguing banquets. Coin flowed
like water from the Nile. I hired acrobats and revelers from the East, Nubian
dancers and jugglers. I bade a seamstress to attire me Grecian finery, Persian
silks, even a costume made of spotted cat fur that only just covered my breasts
and crotch.

"Rhodopis," my patrons cried, "You
must go to the home of Rhodopis!"

I would say I was a far more equitable host than
given credit, for I did not dance for only the Greeks. I danced and pleased
anyone who had enough coin or gifts to offer.

Now I had only myself to feed and clothe, I rented
a new house, away from the memories of Aesop, with a larger garden already
displaying the first green shoots of new growth. And every coin spent on
luxurious plants and furnishings only enhanced my reputation and returned to me
a hundred fold. My latest patrons, no longer common merchants and traders, now
included the son of a minor nome leader, a prince from Punt who brought ivory
and exotic spotted and striped animal skins of orange and black and gold, and
Setis, a bureaucrat.

Setis offered me the use of two servants which I
accepted. I trained the young girl to arrange my hair and serve, and the man I
put to work in the kitchen. The garden I tended myself. As I could afford to be
selective in my pursuits, I busied myself with creating my own paradise. My
days as a slave and a common street whore seemed very far away, indeed.

One day all the world will know your name as
a symbol of beauty and grace
, my mother had promised.

I smiled as I patted the soil around my new olive
tree. Though I did not think this was quite the infamy my mother had dreamt of
and the name was not truly my own, still, her words rang true. I was far better
off here, than in a vulnerable village in Perperek or cramped underneath a
mountain in a temple nest of vipers. But, I missed Aesop’s presence, for
without him, I was truly alone despite unending invitations from the curious
and the carnal.

I arranged for dancing girls to perform, and for
those lucky individuals with enough coin or influence, I donned my rose-gold
slippers and rendered them speechless. There are those who say my own influence
grew in those days, but as one who makes her living by satisfying the many passions
of others, I cannot say it is so.

I wanted for nothing, true, except for the one
thing denied me. I’d stopped praying for love with the fateful end of my affair
with Hori. What a silly girl I’d been to trifle with a charmer’s affections and
to think it love. Love was not for one such as me, no matter what my dream
goddess had promised. But freedom, ah yes, sweet freedom was quite another
thing. And wealth--a new advantage I distributed among my servants and the
other girls with equal aplomb. It kept them more loyal to me than any law of
Egypt.

Finally the day came when my world turned golden
and bright. I’d gone to the
agora
early for there was aught I
would buy. I cannot remember now what it was, perhaps a new plant for the
garden.

I crossed the slave stocks as I went, and happened
to notice a number of new arrivals standing there for sale. Many of them bore
the familiar features of Greece and a few sported red or gold hair. I pitied
them. I could not help myself, I drew nearer. As I did, one figure stood out
from the rest--a figure that made my heart leap into my throat and my hands
clench.

“Mara!” I cried.

She turned her head dully at my voice. Her eyes
focused blearily on me, and then to my horror, she crumpled right there on the
stand. A trader strode over to her and began to prod her.

My feet grew wings. I hitched up my skirts and
ran, heedless of the men whistling at me. It seemed I would never reach her. I
ran all the way up on the platform and threw myself over her rousing form.

“Stop!” I shouted as the trader moved to deliver
another blow. “Stop, I will buy her. I wish to buy this girl.” The words rushed
out of my mouth. Me, who swore never to house a slave.

“She is a lazy slut, and ill besides,” called
another trader. “Have a look at my stock instead.”

“No.” I fumbled with my full coin purse. I tried
to regain my composure and help the still silent Mara to her feet. She looked
about her in a daze, and I saw her cheeks and eyes redden in a way that meant tears
would follow. “No, I want only this one. Here,” and I thrust some coins at the
dumbfounded trader, before he could react. “Here, she is mine, now!”

In a fit, I yanked the leather cord off her neck and
guided her off the platform. I scarce recall making my mark, but somehow the
deal was done.

“Safe,” I murmured to Mara. “You are safe, now.”

Mara stared at me. “You’re alive,” she said. Her
unsteady hand reached out to stroke my hair. Gods, but she was pale and thin.
“You’re alive,” she repeated, and crumpled again at my feet.

“Merikos went mad after you were forced out of the
temple,” Mara croaked. “He raved up and down the hallways shouting your
mother’s name and tearing at his robes.”

“I don’t believe it.” I set a cup of warmed wine
with honey next to her. The healers I’d hired assured me Mara would heal with
rest and care, and I meant to give her the best of both.

She took a sip and winced as it hit her raw
throat. “It’s true. He threw himself off a ledge outside the temple. I saw his
body, broken and bleeding at the bottom of the cliffs.” She shuddered. “Such a
waste. The gods will not have him, now. Aidne ordered him buried without a
blessing. She took complete control of the temple afterwards. She blackened the
names of you and your mother, and I was afraid, so I ran away.”

“You were very brave.” I smoothed her hair away
from her face. “Aidne was too powerful. She would have given you trouble, I am
certain. You were wise and brave to cheat her of that pleasure.”

Mara grabbed my hand and held it tight, as a
drowning man reaches for a low branch.

“No, Dori. I was
foolish
. I was
frightened of Aidne, when I should’ve been more frightened of what exists
outside our temple….” Her voice trailed off and she looked away. “Ho-how did
you…I mean, how could you…stand…what they did?” I waited for her to finish, but
she did not speak for a long moment and she would not meet my eyes.

The hairs on the back of my neck prickled. “What
who
did, Mara?”

I put my fingers under her chin and tipped her
face so she could not look away. Her blue eyes were shadowed. My heart felt as
if it would break. I wanted to know the whole story, I
had
to know, and
yet I knew deep down this was an experience I never dreamed I’d share with my
near sister.

“Slavers caught me on the roadside. There were
three of them. Horrid, stinking, filthy beasts. They did things to me…and for
so long afterwards.” She shook her head fiercely just as the first of her tears
plopped onto her flushed cheeks. Her eyes closed and her breath grew rapid and
shallow as a sparrow.

I gathered her to my bosom. “I know, my dearest, I
know,” I crooned.

And I did know.

We were alike, she and I, in so many ways. But I
refused to succumb to despair. Aesop said this world was not for women. Well, I
would make it so, if only here in Egypt, in my own little sphere of influence. And
I would protect Mara in the process. I had more wealth than I could imagine,
and patrons who were even more wealthy and influential. The city lauded me, and
commoners bowed as I passed them in the streets. All I had at my disposal I
could offer to Mara, my near sister.

My voice was steady as I described my plight with
Cyrus, Iadmon, and Aesop. She gripped my hands in her icy fingers and nodded
her head. Young Iadmon, the Lady, Sappho and Charaxus, Hori…I told it all from
beginning to end. What happened back then, and what I did now, to live freely.

When I finished, she lay back on the bed and
stared at me.

“So,” she said at last. And nothing else.

“So,” I responded.

“How can you bear it?”

Oh, what a complex question. “Because I must? I
don’t know, Mara. This is not the life I was trained for in the temple, but I
find I can bear it better than my bonds of slavery.”

She made a displeased snort. “You are still a
slave. You just don’t recognize what binds you.”

I stared at her. “No, Mara.
No
. I am
mistress, here. For all that I am built for pleasing, it is I who demand
pleasure--in all its forms. Look around you. Should I give up my home, my
garden, the fine food and drink? Tell me?”

“You are a slave to your passions.” She shuddered
again. “Your god-given talents should be used for more than mere base
pleasures.” Her eyes welled anew.

“What will I do then?” I asked. “If I find these
so-called shackles tolerable, will you begrudge me some measure of contentment?
After all I have endured?”

Mara’s cheeks turned pink. “I will not.”

“Good. Tomorrow, then, I will go to the docks and
proclaim you are free.”

“Oh, Dori.” Mara gasped. “You cannot! What would I
do then? Will you expect me to earn my keep as you have chosen?”

“Don’t be ridiculous!” I began, but Mara cut me
off.

“I won’t do it. I will never dance for any man. And
I am not suited for anything else, but to be a slave.”

“Mara, no! You can live here. With me.” The very
idea of slavery was abhorrent to me. I would
not
allow it, not
for her.

“And make myself another burden for which you must
ply your trade? Never!” Mara coughed violently and I waited until she took
another sip of honeyed wine.

“You would never be a burden to me, near sister.” I
stroked her soft cheek. It was true. Mara was as dear to me as my own life.

“Then let me stay under your protection. Do not
free me. If not your slave, I can be your concubine, then. And I can tend you
better than any of these dark-eyed strangers.”

“Mara!” I did not think of Egyptians as strangers.
Not anymore.

“You must think of your reputation. There are
places a woman of influence cannot traverse,” Mara urged.

“Fah! This is not Greece, Mara. Women have more
freedoms, here. You will see. I am safe enough in Naukratis.”

“Just the same. I will stay as your handmaiden.” Her
blue eyes filled with tears again. “Say you will let me, Dori. I don’t want to
be parted from you ever again.”

I thought for a moment. Perhaps it would be best
to allow this. It would keep Mara near to me, and we would be much happier
together than we could ever be apart.

“As you wish, dearest. But for now, you must let
me care for you.”

Mara’s eyes lost a little of their sadness. “I
never knew you were so strong, Dori. I am glad for it.”

I found myself cursing the men who could injure
her so, for this was not the Mara of my memory. It would take time to heal her,
and in more than just her body.

“We will both be strong, dearest.” I whispered.

When Mara finally closed her eyes and slept, my
shoulders ached from tending her. I left her slumbering peacefully, with what I
hoped was a lighter heart.

My near sister was home.

*** ***

The following week, Pharaoh’s barge docked in
Naukratis. After all my careful avoidance, it seemed I could avoid his notice
no longer.

I was well-established as Egypt’s foremost
courtesan by that time and made many offerings to the temples of Isis and Ra. I
entertained in true
hetaerae
fashion, throwing elaborate banquets
and feasts. I even hired a few reported poets and philosophers, though they
were nothing compared to my Aesop. I bested them easily and my patrons loved me
for it. I hired the best musicians, offered the finest food and drink, and
toyed with potential assignations, which only made my would-be admirers work
harder to earn my notice. Life was good for me. My coffers were full to
overflowing. And yet I found myself strangely dissatisfied, for Mara’s words
still echoed in my soul. There was something missing, some greater glory absent
from my designs.

It would be many long weeks before I would
discover it.

I did not go to the docks when the god-king landed
in Naukratis, but I heard a firsthand account from one of my hired servants who
possessed a flair for dramatic storytelling. As he spoke, I saw images in my
mind’s eye--Amasis’ gilded barge, the attendants, servants, and priestesses
posed in perfect formation around his throne. When they unloaded the vessel and
Pharaoh retired to his prepared residence, the servant claimed every furnishing
transported from the barge bore gilding of gold and electrum, and those that
did not were encrusted with precious gems and costly paint. It sounded like
Pharaoh was indeed a man who appreciated beauty and luxury. Well, I could not
fault him for that which I, myself, held dear.

An invitation to Pharaoh’s welcoming feast came
from one of my patrons, a Greek by the name of Praxitlytes, who traded in wool.
And I, no longer fearing to be sold, found myself somewhat curious about this
lover of Greek cultures, this god-king. Praxitlytes, my patron, was brash and
over-concerned with gossip, as a young man can be when he has made a fortune
early in life. And since the city could talk of nothing else but the
festivities surrounding the Pharaoh’s arrival, even he could not keep his mind
on our business.

“Praxitlytes, if you will not recline here next to
me, at least stop pacing. You remind me of a lion trapped in the sand caves.” I
eyed the servant who brought a fresh amphora of Grecian wine and motioned for
it to be set on the low bench next to me. “How about a game of
senet
?”
I stood and moved to the chest that housed my wooden board.

The object of
senet
is to be the
first to clear the board of all your colored stone pieces. Even children can
play, but there are trap positions and a deeper strategy at play on the board,
for those who are clever enough to comprehend it. Praxitlytes did not, but I
let him win often enough so his pride would not be pricked.

He whirled away from the balcony edge with his
arms extended. “Rumor has it the Pharaoh’s welcoming festival will rival the
Feast of Horus. It will be quite a sight! Say you will let me escort you,
Rhodopis.”

“I will not. I have no desire to see this Pharaoh.
The less notice he takes of me and my affairs the better. Besides, you yourself
declare nothing rivals my own celebrations. The Pharaoh must not spend as
readily as I, for he has an entire nation to govern, while I have only myself. Now,
will you take wine or shall I call for beer?” I fiddled with the compartments
of the board and released the game pieces, polished blue and black obelisks,
into my hand.

“Ah, but you will have to make an accounting of
all your affairs at the year’s end, now Pharaoh has passed his law.” He gestured
for me to pour the wine.

“You are as ridiculous as you ever were, Praxitlytes.”
The polished stone pieces were cool against my palms. “I don’t know why I allow
your attentions.”

In truth, I knew very well why. I’d begun a fine
stable of horses, on his gifts alone. And he amused me, in his own way. I liked
his vigor and he did have a good head for politics. Though Egypt governed the
city, it was the Greeks who controlled most of the trade that passed through
Naukratis. And Praxitlytes was swiftly gaining influence, which could only
benefit me and my treasuries.

“There is no hiding what you are, Rhodopis. I
think half the city will not function, unless it is by your sway…well, at least
the Greek half.” He reached out and stroked my shoulder. “You should make
yourself known to Amasis. Come. Don’t make me beg you.”

I felt my cheeks heat. His invitation reminded me
of Charaxus’ determination to display me before Amasis. “How you jest, sweet
Praxitlytes, when I am in no mood for jesting.” I did not have to feign my
displeasure. “You need not parade me before the god-king. Pharaoh has any
number of desirable women in his court.”

“He has many wives, it’s true. And yet he spends
so little time with them, his reputation as a lover of women is in serious
jeopardy. Last week he prayed to his gods to give him a wife worthy of being
queen.” Praxitlytes guffawed before he downed a huge gulp of wine. “Perhaps you
can influence him, when others cannot. I’ve heard of his fondness for Greece.”

I snatched up my small feathered fan and waved it
impatiently in front of my face. “He has Ladice, a Grecian princess to keep him
company.”

“Ha, she has the face and figure of a pig! He will
not make her Mistress of the Palace.”

“Then he is a fool,” I said. “The Greeks do not
take insults well.”

“A fool? No…certainly not. He’s passed his law,
where each man must report to his nomarch and make an accounting of his chosen
trade. It’s a clever idea, for it keeps an accounting of where the nation earns
its coin. We should do just the same in Greece, for I swear half the government
would be forced to decry themselves as thieves and liars!” When I smiled, as I
knew he wished me to, he slapped his knee and chuckled. “No, Amasis is less a
fool than you or I might think.” He moved to my chaise and drew up a stool on
the opposite side of the gaming board.

I’d heard rumors of displeasure circling the upper
echelons of Egyptian royalty. I wondered if that is what Wakheptry had alluded
to in her garden, on the day of my release long ago. “And what say the noble
families to this new law?” I tossed the sticks and moved my first piece.

“Some approve. Others…well, they would not
approve, even if Amasis paved their courtyards with gold from the new taxes
that will come of such a system. I’ve heard the nobility is in open dissent. There
is talk of giving over to the Persian king Kourosh.” Praxitlytes moved his own
piece and frowned at the board. “I don’t know why I play you, Rhodopis. You are
sure to best me.”

“You play because like most men, you enjoy the
challenge. Would not the nobility support the increase of their wealth,
whatever the cause?”

Praxitlytes drained his wine cup in a gulp that
would have left me, a Thracian, reeling. “There are some who feel Amasis is
beneath them. He was a soldier. His family was not well connected. Even a lowly
man can attain wealth and power in the army, if he is strong, but Amasis had no
claim to nobility, when he conquered Apries. I think they resent him.” He
frowned and moved his next piece into position. “He is certain to be unusual,
my sweetling. Are you not the least bit curious?”

I sighed. “You paint a very compelling picture.”

“Then, you’ll come with me? Pharaoh will weep to
see such beauty.”