HETAERA: Daughter of the Gods (32 page)

Mara’s hands stilled. “Us?”

“Egypt is our home, now.” I propped my head up on
my hand. “Do they not remind you a little of Thrace? With their fire, their
passion…their beauty?”

Mara stared at the straw mattress. “I cannot say
they do.”

“Oh.” I felt a twinge of disappointment, for I’d
thought our hearts were more similar.

“Besides,” Mara continued. “You are far more
lovely and graceful than anyone I have seen here in Egypt. Even with too much
wine and not enough food in you.” She gave my nose a playful tweak.

“Oh, Mara.” I snuggled up beside her, grateful for
her soft, warm body. My shoulders ached from dancing and my cheeks were stiff
from the smile I’d plastered onto my face.

She smoothed the hair off my forehead. I listened
to her breathe for some time before she spoke.

“Dori, have you ever considered leaving this
place.” Her voice had lost its teasing lilt.

“Hmm,” I said with a half-laugh. “And where would
we go, sweet sister? Back to Greece? Do you wish to return to the temple so
quickly then?”

Her hand stilled. “No.” She bit her lip. “No, not
there. But I do not know how much longer I can continue, Dori.” She shuddered.

I sat up and leveled my gaze at her. “What is the
difference between these men and the temple
ktístai
? We were
nothing in the eyes of Greece, simple chattel to be mastered and broken. We
would not be proper women. And if we did marry, would you be content to live
out your days imprisoned in your home?”

“You could be
hetaera
.” Mara said. “Why
settle for Egypt when we could go elsewhere?”

“I’m not settling.” Somehow, the savage beauty of
Egypt had wormed its way into my soul. “I’m happy here. You could be, too.” I
sighed. “My beauty will not last forever, sweet sister. At least here, we have
some freedoms. I will not return to Greece to become any man’s wife or
concubine.”

“We could go to Lesbos, to the Poetess Sappho. You
told me she has a school for girls there. We could be together, Dori.”

“No, Mara.” I stood. “She is as dangerous as Aidne
ever was, I am sure of it. And I am no longer the girl I once was. Her way is
not mine, but if you wish to go, I will not stand in your way.”

Indecision flitted across her face like shadows.

“Do you not love me?” she asked. Her voice sounded
small.

“Of course, dearest,” I hugged her fiercely,
inhaling the scent of her sweet skin. “But I will not give up my hard-earned
freedom. Not even for you.” And I could not deny the strange attraction I felt
whenever Amasis was near.

I watched her affection for me battle her loathing
and wondered which would be the victor. Some long moments passed and she did
not answer.

“This is not a decision you can make after an
evening such as this. Think on it. I will abide by whatever your heart dictates
you must do. But,” I said as I put my hand over hers to soften my words. “Do
not think that I will go with you, if that is your choice. I have my place
here, in Egypt. Though it may break my heart, I will not go.”

Mara’s bottom lip trembled. I wanted to kiss her,
to soothe away the unrest in her soft cheeks, and to put my arms around her
slender waist. Instead, I walked away and left her with an uneasy decision.

The next morning, I had her decision. She left a
white rose on the chest beside my bed. I awoke to the powerful perfume of
devotion and two simple words scrawled in spidery Egyptian on a shard of
pottery.

I stay
.

*** ***

The following day I’d gone to the gardens with
Ladice, but she was so tongue-tied and uninteresting that it was nigh torture
for me to think of how to fill the silence. After the umpteenth time of sending
her servants for this sweet or a feathered fan, I promised to send an Egyptian
tutor round for both her and Mara. Perhaps it would help my near-sister to
receive the benefits to which I myself had applied. And for certain, it could
only help the poor Cyrene, as one of Amasis wives. Ladice thanked me with the
apathetic air of one used to needing extra tutelage.

The day was stifling, in her inner garden
courtyard. No breezes blew, and the sand gritted beneath our sandals like
shards of glass.

“You seem uncomfortable, my Princess. Perhaps you
should try to adopt a more comfortable form of dress.” I eyed her sweat-soaked
chiton.

“I could never clothe myself in such indecent….” Her
voice trailed off, but this time I sensed it was because she did not wish to
insult me. “Well, I have not the figure for it.” She gave a nervous laugh and
swooshed the fabric of her dress back and forth. I could smell her body odor
lurking beneath the multitude of perfumes she wore. “You are all swan-like
grace in your…oh look!”

And she prattled on about a completely
unremarkable olive tree. I could not wait to escape and take respite in my own
courtyard.

I focused my attention on the blooming jasmine and
nightshade, so vivid against the garden’s plastered white walls.

“Oh, Rhodopis. I’m afraid I do not know people to
ask favors and keep my secrets in Egypt. It was not so in Cyrene. Before they
came, my sisters and I would chase the new ponies into the surrounding
fields…oh, such times we had together, there.”

“Cyrene is known for its fine steeds, Princess,” I
said, thinking of my own stables back in Naukratis.

“Yes, it is. Indeed, it is so.” Ladice wiped her
eyes and called for refreshment.

And that was the most interesting of our
conversations that day.

*** ***

Over the next week, Ladice requested me to escort
her around Sais three more times. Those next visits were filled with her
blatant frustration at being in the royal court of Egypt, a marked sign of her
uncouth trust in me, a fellow Grecian. I could not help but feel sorry for her,
being raised on a mountainside with her horses and sisters, and then sold as a
peace bargain to the very throne that destroyed her home.

“Oh...oh!” Ladice said when I arrived. “I am so
glad you are here. I have wanted to call for a healer woman and none of them,”
she gestured at her bevy of Egyptian ladies, “can understand me.”

“A healer? Are you ill?”

“Oh! It is only my woman’s time that pains me so. No,”
she waved her pudgy hand back and forth. “No, I am not ill.”

“Well then.” I smiled. “It is an easy remedy.” I
snapped my fingers at the Egyptian ladies who stood and bowed respectfully. Still,
they were a trifle slow to respond and I caught their sly glances and covert smiles.
“You there!” I said in Egyptian. “Shall I bring your name before our Great and
Holy Son of Ra as lacking in your duties to your honored Princess?”

At that, their faces blanched. I ordered them to
bring Ladice refreshments and a large fan to keep her cool. They crossed their
arms over their chests and scurried away like rats, while Ladice stared at me
with open-mouthed delight.

“They poke fun and insult me, I know. I recognize
their tone, if not the words. You do not know how grateful I am that you have
come to Sais.”

“Why do you not pick new ladies to attend you?” I
asked.

 “What would it matter?” She sighed and I
pretended not to recognize her unhappiness. She was so filled with longing for
Libya, that I thought it wise not to unleash the tempest of her tears. She was
much like Mara in that respect.

“You should try to apply yourself to your tutors,
my Princess. Your time would be easier spent here, if you became more
accustomed to our culture.” I urged, gently.

Ladice sniffed. “That is what you have done,
yourself?”

I supposed I had. I was more than immersed in
Egyptian culture. I’d troubled myself to learn everything I could, and in the
learning, came by an understanding that I had lacked before. Perhaps that is
why I couldn’t bear the hungry faces of the orphans on the street, or hear the
crack of a whip against a slave’s back.

The next week Amasis sent an invitation for me to
attend him, while he exercised his chariot horses. I was excited at the
prospect of seeing him again. And having owned a fine stable in Naukratis, I
was more than interested in seeing him race, and flattered that he should ask
me to attend. Part of me wondered if he realized his Cyrene wife was learned in
horseflesh, but I could not bring myself to ask.

He led me to a wide sandy track near the edge of
the city. There were a few others gathered to watch, including Neferenatu, the
vizier. I tried not to notice his angry, narrowed eyes as Amasis led me to the
pair of fine white horses.

He encouraged me to stroke their gleaming bodies,
while stable hands held their reins tight. The horses quivered under my touch,
and my gaze darted back to the gathered royalty, clustered in loose knots of
conversation. I identified with the horse’s emotions. Fear. Distrust.

“Sha,” I murmured low. “I won’t hurt you.” I blew
gently into his nostrils that he might become familiar with my scent. The horse
nickered in response and allowed me to catch hold of his rein.

Amasis put his hand on my shoulder and led me back
to inspect the chariot. It was a wonder--great and golden as Apollo’s sun
chariot. The entire carriage was bedecked in layers of gold, electrum, and
silver. The concave interior sported painted scenes of Amasis conquering a
horde of kneeling Nubians, his foot placed atop their heads.

“Ride with me,” he commanded.

This time, I did not hesitate.

I handed my cup of wine to the nearest servant. Amasis
stepped up first, and I stood just behind. In the chariot there was enough room
for us to stand side by side, but I was content to let more practiced hands
hold the reins. He widened his stance, his muscular thighs straining at the
tight pleats of his
shenti
. I braced myself, holding onto the
sides of the chariot.

With a shout from the stable hands, we were off. At
the first rushing jolt, I abandoned my hold on the wooden chariot and flung my
arms around Amasis’ midsection.

“Are you sure this is safe?” I called, over the
rushing wind.

He laughed and called for the horses to go faster.
I leaned against the strength of his broad shoulders, and let go my inhibitions.
If he thought it safe, I would not gainsay him. The wind whipped through my
hair, and my heart pounded in my chest in time to the beat of the horses’
hooves. Once I’d let go of my fear, the sensation was indescribable.

We were flying!

We pounded down the sandy track, away from the
city. I risked a glance over my shoulder and saw the white plaster buildings of
Sais grow smaller. The wind whistled in my ears and I could not help but laugh.
I felt as free as the falcons circling overhead. The sun blazed and turned the
dunes to gold.

He tossed me a grin, and for a moment I saw the
boy he must have been, eyes twinkling with delight and his tanned face creased
with joy. No more the heavy cares of the throne of Egypt.

We turned a corner and he pulled back on the reins
slowing the chariot. Gravel spewed from the horses hooves and we rolled to a
stop.

“Well,” he said. “What say you? Did you enjoy the
ride?”

What could I say? That it was frightening and
thrilling all at once? That the sensation mimicked the feeling in my stomach
when he drew near?

“It...it was the most precious of your gifts to
me,” I smiled. I pushed the unkempt locks of my hair out of my eyes, not even
caring that I looked a mess.

His expression grew serious and he pulled me close
to him. His eyes fixed on my mouth. “Not many women of the court would share
your enthusiasm for such coarse pastimes, Rhodopis.”

I was dizzy from the speed of our ride and the
nearness of his body. A wave of desire engulfed me; every inch of my flesh was
attuned to him. Oh, why did I seem to go into heat every time he was near? Me,
who’d never needed a man’s touch!

“I was raised a soldier’s daughter,” I said. “I am
not afraid.”

His lips quirked. “And yet I feel your body
trembling like a palm frond.” He shifted his weight so that the length of him
touched me from foot to chest. The hard muscles of his body pressed through my
fine linen as if we were alone and naked before the sight of the gods.

“Only from the nearness of you, Nesu.” I
confessed.

His brow rose. “Rhodopis…” he murmured.

Now, I thought. Surely now he will kiss me. I felt
my lids droop in anticipation. His lips were inches away. I felt his fingers
grasp at my hands.

“Here.” His voice was more a sigh against my lips,
than speech.

“What?” I looked down and found he’d slipped the
leather reins into my sweating palm.

He smirked. “Let us see how a soldier’s daughter
handles herself.”

My nerves were a jangled mess by the time we
reached the palace. My back and legs ached from bracing myself against the bouncing
chariot and the surging horses. All the while, he balanced easily behind me
with his hands resting lightly around my waist. He directed me through his
words and his touch, showing me the easiest way to grip the leather reins, so
that I afforded the horses enough room for the proud arch of their necks, while
not allowing them too much freedom.

By the time we arrived, half the royals had
departed for more interesting company. I was grateful, for my hair was a
tangled mess, and my gown sodden with sweat. When Amasis gave me leave to
depart, I limped to a litter. Then I spent the rest of the afternoon soaking my
sore muscles in my courtyard pool, but the feel of his body against mine did
not leave me.

*** ***

When Ladice summoned me yet again that week, I am
ashamed to say I sent Mara instead. Though I pitied Ladice, I could not stand
the thought of listening to her mindless babble after I’d spent long lovely
hours reveling in her husband’s company. Besides, my coffers were in need of
replenishing, and Mara did not seem to mind the Princess’ company, so I was
content to let her go in my stead.