by Mira Zamin
Pyp’s breath caught in the back of his throat, darts of nervous heat nettling his chest. Quick, sharp pricks of panic; his world constricted to encompass himself, his aggressor, and fright, his most steadfast companion of late.
“Well then?” continued the gravelly voice.
With a purposeful blink, a summoning of all things brave in that small twitch of a lid, Pyp turned around to face his captor. He was preparing himself to flee when he recognized him. His stomach swung even lower—with relief.
“Koisis!” exclaimed Pyp. He was immediately enveloped in a warm, putrid hug; where Koisis had once worn the perfume of flour, fish, and wine, he now smelled of sweat and dirt beneath the aroma of food. It was another reminder of the distance traveled in the space of a few monumental months...There were quick flashes of darkness when Pyp could not even summon his father’s face.
“Koisis!” repeated Pyp, disbelievingly. “Koisis, Koisis, Koisis. How long since I have seen you! How have you been? What are you doing here? What is happening in Portus Tarrus?”
Koisis grinned widely, molding the skin of his cheeks into tiny valleys. “I was taking a walk Master Pyp, Domina Olympia.”
Olympia embraced Koisis. “It is good to see you, old friend,” she said into his shoulder. She looked pale beneath the leeching light but she breathed in the fresh salty air with new vigor. A light and happy smile crossed her face. She could still recall her husband’s face with loving clarity, her memory blurring the marks of time into youth.
“Where should we go?” Olympia asked. She brushed Pyp’s now-gritty, once-soft curls as he ran into her soiled woolen skirts.
Pursing his lips in thought, Koisis said, “I’m none too sure. Once they discover you missing, they’re bound to tear up the entire town searching for you.” Koisis paused but when no divine inspiration struck him, he added, “Let’s go into the woods where we’ll be hidden from view.”
Olympia’s robe quivered tellingly but her face was wreathed in a beatific smile of thanks. She ducked beneath the boughs, following Koisis until they arrived at the tiniest of clearings, hidden by a sprawl of bushes and thorns. Olympia sank to the ground, laying her cheek on the cool, damp earth, steadily inhaling the sweet scent of the soil.
“Where’s Maro?” asked Pyp eagerly, looking about to see if perhaps his friend were hiding behind a tree.
“He’s working in the stables, but under heavy watch, Master Pyp, especially after he tried to get to you in the cellar and then pulled a series of pranks on Avaritus when he failed. Avaritus was all for having him killed, but me and Daphne convinced him to watch the boy closely. I had a talk with young Maro about behaving himself. But don’t worry Master Pyp! I see to it that he’s well-fed and taken care of.”
A flash of guilt crossed Olympia’s face at Koisis’ mention of Daphne.
“Can you bring him to us?” asked Pyp eagerly.
Kosis grew grim. “If only. Like I said, eyes are always upon him—he was never good at being inconspicuous that one—and he rarely leaves the stables. If he came to wherever you hide, it would draw too much attention.” Seeing Pyp’s downcast eyes, Koisis quickly added, “But I’m sure you’ll see him soon enough, lad!”
Hoping Koisis was right, Pyp lay his head against his mother’s stomach. Olympia stroked his hair with a newly renewed sense of wonder. “Thank you, thank you, thank you,” she murmured to no one in particular and yet to all, imbibing her surroundings as if they were wine and she was dying of thirst.
“It was my honor, Domina,” Koisis answered gruffly. “Domina, perhaps…what would you say to hiding in the tavern of my sister’s husband? I have good stock there with the man. I’ve supplied him with something or another from the villa many a time, begging your pardon,” he added abashedly.
Olympia looked uncertain. “What of his politics? And what if someone searched the premises?”
“I…” Koisis looked stumped, his brow knit in thought.
Pyp attempted to exchange worried glances with his mother, but she gave him a look of such determined optimism that a sudden sense of peace and softness wrapped around Pyp. Tenderly, he kissed Olympia’s cheek.
With a steely look in her eye, Olympia touched the kiss and clutched Pyp closer to her. “What do you think, my little man?” asked Olympia, turning towards Pyp with a mild smile. “What do you suggest?”
Feeling once again like the child he was after many, many months, Pyp shrugged. “I don’t know.”
Olympia pulled Pyp up and straightened his dirty tunic, gently brushing the caked mud off. As her hands moved absently, she thought, knowing that this decision would very well determine her survival, her son’s survival. She knew that she owed it to Lucretius to live, to scream defiance until breath left her body. “Let’s go to Koisis’ sister’s tavern. We have nowhere else and a roof, even a risky one, is better than none.” Iron resolve laced through Olympia’s voice. Olympia unpinned her messy locks, letting them tumble to her back. “How will we get into the tavern?” she asked Koisis.
“We walk.”