Sappho's Leap (18 page)

“Yes!”

“Her blond beauty is not nearly as particular as your raven looks. Trust me. This I know.”

“Then you find me beautiful?”

“In a completely singular way,” said Aesop. “Part of your beauty is your deep intelligence. Your eyes are limitless. They seem to see everything.”

I became uneasy at his admiration. “So do yours,” I told him. “You are the greatest teacher I have ever had.”

“I would rather be your lover than your teacher,” he said. “But I will take whatever I can get.”

I let this go. It was uncomfortable to hear of his yearning for me, since I still yearned for Alcaeus. I knew that Aesop loved me, but I tried to ignore it. I changed the subject.

“But may I remind you that you were
not
completely right about Rhodopis? She has
not
fallen to her fate. If anything, she has prospered.”

“
Not yet.
Wait, Sappho. You are too impatient. Rhodopis stands on the edge of a snake pit. She simply doesn't know it.”

“The siren and the snake pit!”

“Wait and see how my prophecy comes true!”

I shrugged. “I'll believe it when I see it.”

“My fables always come true—just like your songs.”

“So you are sure your fables are prophetic?”

“Absolutely sure. Aren't you sure your songs always please the gods?”

“Of course I am!” But I was far less sure than I claimed. I wished I had more of Rhodopis' brash confidence.

I had, in fact, composed a blistering song about my brother Charaxus and how he was duped by Rhodopis, but I was not entirely satisfied with it and I ripped the papyrus to bits. Years later, fragments of this song were found by my followers and used to prove slanderous things about my brother and me. It is not enough to rip up your rejected drafts. Burn them!

In the weeks that followed, the pharaoh outfitted a sailing ship for us and gave us fifty of his most muscular Nubians to row it, his greatest admiral to navigate, and all manner of cooks and servants to wait upon us. He had organized many colloquies in which he and his counselors prepared the most detailed questions for the oracle. We were to ask this—then we were to ask that—then we were to be sure to ask the other. There were great debates about the Pythia and how best to get her to pronounce the future. Some of the pharaoh's ministers wanted to come along for the ride. Who could resist a trip to Delphi? At first I was afraid the pharaoh would allow it. But as usual, Aesop's wisdom came to the rescue.

“As the Pythia is Greek and speaks Greek, she may be offended by barbarians. Not that your highness' advisors are not wise. They are very wise—wiser even than Greeks—but they do not speak the Pythia's tongue. Let us be careful not to offend her.”

The pharaoh thought and then he agreed. “It is best not to offend the Pythia,” he said.

“The Pythia is unusually fond of gold,” Aesop said. “And so are her minions. We have to be prepared.”

So the pharaoh's goldsmiths made a variety of cunning objects with which to propitiate the oracle—statues of gods and goddesses, birds, cats, horses, camels, sphinxes, basins, wine jugs, goblets, golden disks made to resemble the sun.

“We will represent you faithfully,” Aesop pledged.

“Of that I have no doubt. But it pains me to let the woman Sappho go. Return her to me unharmed and whole, or I will hunt you down and have you killed most lingeringly.”

“If the gods will it, Pharaoh, it shall be,” Aesop swore.

Egypt had changed me. It was not only the blossoming of my friendship with Aesop and what I learned about powerful men from the pharaoh, but the way power had shifted in my own family. I became the deliverer of my brothers and I planned never to let them forget it. Since they had not plotted against Pittacus, they could easily return to Lesbos. Someday I would need them again. I would remind them I might have left them to their fate!

But my daughter was never out of my thoughts. By now she would be walking, uttering nonsense syllables, and babbling. I had missed her entire infancy. I rarely spoke of her for fear I would be overwhelmed with sadness, but I went to sleep with her and woke up with her. In my dreams I held her. Her sweet infant smell was always in my nostrils.

We were only a week out of Naucratis bound for Delphi when Aesop and I became aware that the mariners kept descending into the hold of the ship for long periods of time and returning on deck looking drunk and disheveled. The ship's hold was not a pretty place. The oarsmen defecated there, as did the pigs and goats we carried for food. No one would go belowdecks who did not absolutely have to. We heard laughter echoing from below and often screams of glee.

Aesop interrogated the captain.

“I am sure that nothing is amiss,” he said, “but let me check for myself.”

With that, the captain disappeared into the hold and did not return for several hours. The oars were as idle as the sails. We drifted with the current.

Aesop and I were worried. We didn't want to follow the captain into the hold for fear of insulting him, or questioning his authority, but we were alarmed.

“Shall we go and see for ourselves?” I asked Aesop.

“Let us be discreet.”

“How long shall our discretion last? Till we go down with the ship?”

“I'm sure there is no cause for concern,” Aesop said.

“I think we should go down now,” I countered.

Aesop and I proceeded cautiously down the companion way that led into the bowels of the ship. The lower you went, the more it reeked. We heard the sound of drunken laughter.

Who should we see in the hold but Rhodopis, who had unchained the oarsmen, seduced both slaves and officers, and was looking extremely pleased with herself.

“Sappho! Aesop!” she called. “Welcome!”

Cracked wine bowls were strewn around. The captain had passed out drunk. Amid these sleepy beasts, Rhodopis rose like Circe.

“Welcome, you two,” she said. “What fun we'll have in Delphi.”

“You are not in charge here,” Aesop said gravely.

“Am I not?” Rhodopis answered. “Who is in charge on the sea? Only Poseidon! I command Poseidon as Aphrodite commands even the gods! Who's to say I am not more Aphrodite than Aphrodite!”

“This is the pharaoh's ship,” I said quietly. “I will not comment on your hubris in challenging the gods.”

“I hardly fear your gods,” said Rhodopis. “Besides, the ship belongs to whomever the men obey. I feel sure somehow that they'll obey me. The captain is my special friend.” She pointed to the comatose captain.

“As the pharaoh is mine,” I said.

“But not here. Absent friends are of little use,” the siren said. “Now, shall we speak of our itinerary? I thought we should make way to Samos, Chios, then Lesbos—where, I promise you, Pittacus shall be apprised of your arrival. Then I can continue on to Delphi without worrying about the pharaoh's favorite. What do you think, little Sappho?”

But Aesop spoke before I could get a word in. “Sappho shall be glad to see Lesbos again—and her daughter. You cannot scare her with such a threat,” he said mildly. “Whatever the gods decree, she will accept. We will let you be our guide.”

“Good,” Rhodopis said. “First of all, I want your quarters. I am not so fond of being belowdecks.”

“Your wish is our command,” said Aesop.

I looked at him as though he were mad.

Rhodopis was obviously pleased. A smile turned up the corners of her mouth. “You know, Sappho,” she preened, “Charaxus promised to marry me.”

I laughed. “Of course, that's why you enslaved him and my other brother.”

“It was just a little joke between us—what is the difference anyway between slavery and marriage?” Rhodopis asked.

Now Aesop really had to twist my arm to keep me silent.

“Will you attend me at my marriage, Sappho?”

At that I burst out laughing.

“Laugh all you want,” Rhodopis said. “I know what I know.”

“You can discuss all this when we reach Mytilene,” Aesop said calmly. “Now I think we should focus on sailing or we'll never reach shore in Lesbos—or anywhere. Do try to rouse our captain, Rhodopis.”

But Rhodopis had another matter on her mind.

“Since I shall have you as my sister-in-law, Sappho, perhaps it's time for you to teach me the secrets of the symposium—or whatever it was you were teaching the pharaoh.”

Aesop pinched me again, then trod on my toe for good measure.

“I shall be delighted to do so,” I said. “Come up on deck and I shall teach you all I know.”

There on deck Praxinoa also awaited us. She had been napping while all this transpired. She could not have been more amazed to see Rhodopis.

“Praxinoa—fetch my lyre. It seems I have a new student.”

We drifted on the sea. I taught Rhodopis the rudiments of song. Aesop tried to rouse the crew and captain and get them to resume their duties, but they were too far gone. They slept while the ship floundered.

“We would be better to study navigation than to study singing,” I told Rhodopis. “Otherwise we may never reach Lesbos or Delphi—or indeed anywhere but the Land of the Dead. If you only knew the bad luck I've had sailing, you'd never have stowed away with me!”

Calmness had come over me, as it always did when I shared my craft. If the gods were with us, we'd be safe; if they were not, we were lost. All the rest was madness.

“We'd better be allies,” I told Rhodopis, “or we may not last the voyage at all. I have been shipwrecked time and time again, set upon by pirates, doomed to float forever in the blistering sun, the cold moon. The sea is cruel even to stowaways.”

After she'd heard about my shipwrecks, Rhodopis hastily excused herself and went belowdecks to help Aesop in rousing the captain and crew. It was no easy matter. They had drunk her drug-laced wine and could have slept for days.

Praxinoa and I scanned the horizon as the sun set. Was it our imagination, or was another ship approaching?

No doubt of it. Little by little a red-sailed ship came into view. On the deck were men with curly beards, brandishing bronze spears. They were as alert and ferocious as our crew was drugged. They easily lassoed our battering ram, dragged us to them, and boarded us.

A tall beautiful young man with an aureole of red hair and a hauntingly familiar face approached me. At first I thought it was Alcaeus and my heart lurched.

“Antimenidas of Lesbos, fresh from Babylon and the service of the great Nebuchadnezzar,” the beautiful man introduced himself. “We have seen the Hanging Gardens, expelled from Jerusalem the Jews who believe in circumcision and one god, followed the spice routes through the desert to the great red city of the Nabateans, and now we are sailing back to the civilized world where men speak Greek.”

“And women, sir. We are Sappho and Praxinoa of Lesbos.”

“Sappho! I am the brother of Alcaeus! “Antimenidas exclaimed.

Whereupon the three of us fell into each other's arms weeping. It might not be Alcaeus, but it was indeed his flesh and blood. I wanted to throw my arms around Antimenidas simply because he looked so much like Alcaeus!

“When have you last seen your brother?” I asked.

“At the court of Alyattes, whence he was dispatched to Delphi.”

“And where is he now?”

“The gods alone know,” Antimenidas said. “I trust he is alive, else I should surely have heard. He could be in Delphi, in Sardis, in Syracuse, in Ephesus—who knows?”

“Your brother is indeed alive,” a teasing voice said. It was Rhodopis emerging from belowdecks, wearing her most seductive smile, her strong perfumes, and nothing else. “Would you have news of him? Come closer. I'll tell you all I learned of him in Delphi.”

I looked at Praxinoa in a panic. All we needed was for Rhodopis to seduce these new sailors.

Aesop now came on deck, took in the scene, and asked Antimenidas for a private word with him. Antimenidas' men were about to search the ship for treasure, but he detained them.

Aesop and Antimenidas spoke for a long time. There was much persuasion and argument.

Finally they seemed to have reached an agreement. Praxinoa and I watched in amazement as Antimenidas gave orders to his men in a savage tongue I did not understand.

The men promptly took Rhodopis, gagged her, bound her hand and foot until she resembled an Egyptian mummy. She made guttural sounds through her gag. We just stood there gaping. She flashed her eyes at me as if to say,
You've hardly seen the last of me!
Then she was carried onto the other ship. Rhodopis was off our hands!

We rewarded Antimenidas' men with a share of our golden offerings. We even gave them some of our comatose crew, piled like so many corpses after a battle. Wouldn't those Egyptian sailors be amazed when they awoke and found themselves on the way to Babylon rather than Delphi!

Antimenidas' men were delighted to get Rhodopis—not to mention the gold. They bowed low before Antimenidas and thanked him profusely. Wait till they found out what a handful she was! Then they reboarded their ship.

Antimenidas embraced us warmly and wished us well before he too departed.

“If you see my dear brother, give him all my love,” he said.

“Of that you may be sure,” I said, feasting on Antimenidas' face, which was so like my beloved's. Watching him wave and sail away, I remembered my departure from Alcaeus and it reopened the wound of missing him.

“What did you tell Antimenidas?” I asked Aesop.

“I merely reminded Antimenidas of something he already knew. Nebuchadnezzar is very fond of blond courtesans and Rhodopis might fetch a large price in Babylon. On the way there, they might also have some fun.”

“So you sold Rhodopis to the Babylonian king?”

“I would never sell another human being into slavery—I merely suggested how much she'd be worth as an ornament for the Hanging Gardens. Besides, Rhodopis never remains anyone's slave for long. She knows how to turn a master into a slave. Some women only know how to turn slaves into masters.”