Hope of Earth (41 page)

The maidservant was already working at the hearth. She turned as she heard Jes, then her eyes widened. “Keep my secret,” Jes told her, and marched on into Ittai’s room.

She stood in the center, waiting until his eyes opened. Then she began to dance. She did know how to do it, having shared in family activities from childhood on. She whirled, making the skirt flare out and up, showing her legs right up to her bare crotch. She moved her knees and hips in the way Wona had taught her, making her body flex. She made graceful leaps, landing softly. She stepped forward and back, as if she had a partner.

And then she did have one. The trierarch joined her, matching her steps. Then he held her and turned her. Then he kissed her.

“Will you marry me?” he asked.

“No. I am still thinking.”

He stepped away from her.

“But I offer myself to you, this day.”

“I want that. But I want more.”

“How can I decide, if I know only part of you?”

At that he chuckled. “You are teasing me, you lovely creature.”

“No! I really am trying to decide. But it’s not fair to make me decide without knowing—what it would be like.”

He nodded. “Perhaps it is my groin speaking, but you have a point. So I will gamble again, bedding you without commitment. Come to me, if you really wish it.”

She hauled off the dress, flung herself into his embrace. They turned around, kissing, and then they were on the bed, and she was under him, wrapping her legs around him, and he was suddenly pushing into her with a sharp pain. She bit her lip, realizing that it was like this, the first time.

He pumped, and pumped again, and grunted as he swelled inside her, and erupted, and relaxed, panting. His weight was heavy on her, but she could handle it. She hugged him close, and stroked his head with one hand, loving being a woman despite the stinging in her groin. In any event, that discomfort was fading.

“You didn’t tell me you were a virgin,” he said, admonishing her.

“I said I lacked experience,” she reminded him.

“All women say that. I apologize; had I realized, I would have been far more gentle. There was no art in this, only my burgeoning desire for you, that I could not hold back. Another time, I promise, it will be different.”

“No, it was better to do it without art, the first time. I am glad to have this slight pain, of you.”

He kissed her face, wherever his lips would reach. “Oh, Jes, I know I can love you, if you let me. You are—everything.”

“Don’t speak in the passion of the moment,” she said. “Such decisions are not wise at such times.” She was actually speaking for herself, because she knew that if he asked her again to marry him, she would agree, regardless of the wisdom of it. He, not she, had had the sexual climax, but it was her passion that was burgeoning. She reined in her emotion, as she would during a battle. She still needed time to consider.

He got off her. “Then I will make one statement I know is rational,” he said. “That was the best bedding I have had since I lost my wife.” He turned away, evidently embarrassed to have made the comparison.

“Thank you.” She could not trust herself to say more. She knew she could not rely on anything she felt at this moment. She got up, recovered her dress from the floor, pulled it on, and returned to her own room to clean up. Again.

“I’m glad you are a woman,” the maid muttered as she passed.

The woman had feared the trierarch would take a boy to his bed? “So am I,” Jes agreed.

The bleeding wasn’t too bad, but she feared it could spot her uniform and betray her on the ship, so she stuffed in some cloth and hoped for the best. Then she donned her uniform, made sure she looked masculine, and went out to have breakfast.

“My maid approves of you,” Ittai said as they ate

“How does she know I am worthy of approval?”

“I don’t know, but her judgment is infallible. After she critiqued Wona, I realized she was correct.”

So that was how he had targeted Wona so accurately. A woman could see through a woman in ways a man could not.

After that, they went without further comment to the ship. Ittai addressed his crew in the manner Admiral Phormio had recommended, and the routine cautions seemed to have good effect, because they all knew that a severe test of their skills was coming up. They had shown that they could row rings around an enemy fleet, and they hoped to do so again.

But there was one significant difference, this time. In the prior battle, the Spartan fleet had had to travel to a particular destination, and the Athenians had been able to make an ambush of their choosing. This time they had to defend their base of Naupactus. Should the enemy advance on that city, their own fleet would have to stand and fight, regardless of the odds against it. They were pinned down. It seemed very bad to Jes. If only those other twenty Athenian ships had arrived in time! With forty good ships against seventy-seven, they might have made a good fight of it. But as it was, the enemy could bring almost four ships to bear on each Athenian ship—and this time the Spartans were fast, cleared for action, and competently commanded. They would not be giving away any easy advantages.

However, it was not Jes’s place to brood about strategy. She just had to focus on her piping, and do the best she could. And hope that disaster was not close upon them. So she fixed instead on her feeling for Captain Ittai, but it had not yet settled into any measurable format. Her body longed to be in his embrace again, but her mind derided this as the folly of a girl without experience. A man in combat who was swept off his feet would soon be dead; similarly a woman who lost her bearings in passion would make a bad decision. Wona’s cynicism was surely well justified. Jes still needed time to get perspective. So she returned to consideration of the tactical situation of the ships.

The Spartan fleet was there, practicing maneuvers. The ships were so numerous that from a distance they seemed to form a dense cluster. Several came out to look at the Athenians, and they were indeed fast. The description did not apply to their actual speed in the water, but rather to their type; sometimes a speedy “slow” ship was faster than a poky “fast” ship. But these were fast in both senses of the word, and perhaps almost a match for the Athenian ships.

The enemy did not offer combat. It was merely showing off, teasing the defenders. The Athenians could not afford to attack; they would go right into disaster. So all they could do was watch and wait. There was no point in remaining out in the water; they needed to conserve their strength until the Spartan fleet made a move. So Admiral Phormio ordered his ships to land, where they beached. Now his cautioning about staying close to the ships counted; at any time there could be action, and any delay at all could be disastrous.

For several days the Spartan fleet practiced its maneuvers. Even from the distance of the full width of the gulf, they were impressive, and more so when the Athenian fleet moved up for a closer look. There was nothing clumsy here. But the Athenian crews were becoming restive; they did not like holding off from action so long.

Jes did not return to the trierarch’s house, though she longed to. Slowly her disciplined mind was gaining ground, reminding her of the difference in their stations, and of the enormous change in her situation an association with him would mean. As if in the distance, the sensible decision was taking shape.

During one of the frequent pauses, Jes happened to be near Captain Ittai; perhaps it was by his design. “The admiral is determined not to be drawn into the narrow confines of the gulf for battle,” he murmured, not facing her. “But I fear he will have no choice.”

“My fear, too,” she agreed.

“At times I wish I had accepted your offer. Then, if I die, I would at least have had that much.”

“Sir?”

“Or did I forget something?”

He was teasing her. She liked it. “Perhaps it was only a dream.”

He nodded. “A phenomenal dream. So there is no help for it but to win this battle and survive. Then perhaps we can try reality.”

“Yes, sir.” Once more, it was all she could utter.

He moved on, but her sensible decision was now out of sight over the horizon. His little ways charmed her. She tried to remember Wona’s cynicism, but that, too, was far gone. Prospects for close combat she could assess; the sense or nonsense of love defeated her.

The next day at dawn the Peloponnesian fleet moved out. It formed into four columns and turned east, into the gulf. The fastest ships were on the right wing.

“Damn!” the helmsman swore.

So the enemy was going for Naupactus. This was serious mischief.

The Athenians hurriedly embarked and moved east along the north coast, while the supporting force of Messenians made a similar move along the land. The Athenians formed into a single line, stretching out their formation so that the enemy could not make a sudden lunge and cut them off, beginning an envelopment. Ittai’s ship was in the middle; it would not seek the rear until it had to.

The Spartan fleet abruptly turned from its “line ahead” formation to “line abreast,” four ranks deep. It was a savage and brilliant maneuver, and it almost ended the battle right there. But the eleven leading ships of Phormio’s fleet stroked valiantly forward. “Play, piper!” the helmsman shouted as the boatswain lifted his palm.

Jes played, speeding the cadence, as the enemy fleet bore down. The ships ahead were pulling clear, thanks to their speed, but it looked as if Ittai’s ship was about to be caught. A Spartan ship’s ram was coming right at it.

“Go!” the helmsmen cried, shooting his own hand upward.

Jes increased her cadence as rapidly as she could without outstripping the best beat the oarsmen could match evenly. The oarsmen, spooked by the threat of the ram, responded with a final surge of power. The ship pulled just clear of the enemy vessel, so close that some of the opposing oars collided.

The boatswain brought his hand down part way. Jes slowed the cadence, allowing the oarsmen to get their stroke back. Now the ship pulled rapidly away from the enemy, because of the time it took for the Spartan ships to turn and pursue.

Jes, facing back, could see the carnage behind. All nine ships caught by the sudden charge were driven in flight toward the land; they had no room and no time to maneuver to get into fighting position. They were quickly overrun and made useless. The Athenians dived into the water and swam to land; any who didn’t escape were killed.

With one exception: the Spartans managed to encircle and capture one ship with its crew intact. The Athenians on that one did not dare move, lest they be summarily slaughtered; enemy bowmen had them completely covered.

The Peloponnesians wasted no time; they tied ropes and started towing away the empty ships. The one captured entire they required to row itself where they directed; only by obeying could its crew hope to survive. The spoils of war were already being taken.

But the battle was not yet done. The Messenian land force arrived and went immediately into action. The Messenians hated the Spartans, and were eager for battle. They charged into the sea in full armor, overtaking several of the captured ships as they were being towed, and threatening the enemy crews. There were far more Messenians than Spartans, but the Messenians could not effectively reach the ships in deeper water. They did board several of the towed ships, and recaptured them in fierce fighting on the decks. They also recovered the ship with the full crew, a significant prize. Jes had not before fully appreciated the importance of land support; she had thought it was only to assist the crews as they took their meal and comfort breaks. Not so!

Meanwhile she continued playing the Straight Ahead tune. They were the last in a line of eleven ships, now being closely pursued by twenty fast Peloponnesian ships. It was apparent that the enemy ships were not quite as fast as the Athenian ships, not because of any inferiority of design, but because their crews were not as well honed. The ten ships before Ittai’s were pulling slowly away, reaching the harbor at Naupactus in time to range themselves in the “Line Abreast by the Temple of Apollo” formation, ready for defensive action. Their bows faced seaward as they waited for the onslaught.

All except Ittai’s ship. The boatswain was signaling with his palm down, bidding Jes to slow the cadence. She did, cautiously, and now the ship lost distance ahead of the pursuit. The enemy fleet’ believing that it could catch the laggard, was putting forth all due effort, and the twenty ships were spreading out as the faster crews outpaced their neighbors. Soon the leaders would flank Ittai’s ship and attack it from either side with bow and spear.

What was the captain thinking of? She remembered Admiral Phormio’s directive that Ittai perform rearguard action, and this he was doing—but the force behind was overwhelmingly greater, and would soon destroy the single ship. What was to be gained by offering up this sacrifice?

Well, maybe it wasn’t entirely futile, because one Leucadian trieres was now significantly outpacing the others. It might be possible to fight it alone, before the others caught up. Still, even if they won, it was only one ship, with many more rapidly closing. Much more was needed, if there was to be any chance to save Naupactus.

Their ship reached the harbor barely ahead of the Leucadian. Jes could hear the Peloponnesians singing the paean for the final attack. Normally the crews were silent; noise was the mark of an ill-disciplined crew. But this was the exception; they were working themselves up for the final slaughter.

Ittai’s ship passed a merchant ship that was anchored in deep water, as such vessels normally were. Such noncombatants were normally ignored in battle; they were part of the booty, not capable of fighting.

But as they passed it, the boatswain gave the Hard Right Turn signal. Surprised, Jes played it, and the oarsmen obeyed automatically. The ship made an exceedingly tight turn, going behind the merchanter, as if hiding. There was laughter from the pursuing ship.

But there was no Slow Cadence signal. What were they doing? The ship continued its turn, looping entirely around the merchant without slowing more than it had to to make the turn.