Flo nodded. “That’s what I thought. Ned is our smartest member, but a woman with a figure and a will can make a fool of any man when she sets her mind to it. Ned can’t free himself. Neither can Sam, if he even suspects. That’s why we’ll have to do it for them.”
“She won’t go without reason,” Lin said, glancing across to where Wona sat watching the children. The children didn’t really need watching, but Wona never volunteered for any hard work, and this was easy work.
“I don’t like killing,” Jes said. “Not when it’s someone I know.” Actually she had never killed a human being. But she had been ready to, once when she and Ned had been caught away from home by men intent on rape and murder. She had distracted them, and Ned had stabbed them, and she felt responsible. Jes had no affection for Wona, but she did know her personally, and that made the difference.
“Neither do we,” Flo said. “So we’ll have to make a deal with her. I have thought this out. If we can get her a better man, by her definition—one who can put her in idle luxury—she’ll desert Sam. Sam may be unhappy for a while, but he’ll be better off, and he’ll be able to find another woman.”
Jes nodded. “With those muscles, he can get a woman. But who would take Wona? Anyone who knows her would know better. Sure, any man would make a wench of her, for a night or a fortnight, but wouldn’t marry her.”
“So we have to go farther afield,” Flo said. “In the big city there should be men who judge by nothing but appearance. That is the one thing she’s got. We’ve all seen how the men stare at her.”
“And how she encourages it,” Jes added. “It’s amazing how her robe falls open when she’s near a handsome or powerful man.” Jes was again privately jealous of that ability, but would never say so.
“Big city?” Lin asked. “Do you mean Geraestus?”
“No; that’s far too close. We don’t want her ever coming back. Athens.”
“But that’s seven days’ trek from here,” Jes protested.
Flo shook her head. “Three days, if you row across the bay. You can do it; you row every day.”
Jes nodded. “I like to row. Yes—and that would avoid Sam, if he is returning.”
“That was also my thought.”
“So I should take her, and find her a richer man,” Jes said. “So she is gone when Sam returns.”
Flo and Lin nodded.
“What of her child?”
“Wilda can remain with us. Wona’s not much of a mother to her anyway. She wanted a boy.”
True. Wona would be glad to be free of her daughter. “But it is not safe for two women traveling out of their territory.”
“A woman and a man to guard her,” Flo said.
“Her brother,” Lin added.
Jes pondered. “I don’t like it, but I agree it must be done. Can you talk her into it?”
“Yes,” Flo said grimly. “I Will give her harsh alternatives.”
“I have no stomach for that,” Jes said.
“You are too manlike,” Flo said, smiling. “You can’t bear to hurt a woman.”
“A beautiful woman,” Lin added teasingly.
“But you keep your word, once given, like a man,” Flo said. “She knows that.”
They had thought it out. “Then tell her I will conduct her to Athens, and not leave her until she is satisfied with a new man.”
Flo and Lin got up without further word and walked across to talk with Wona. Jes picked up the flail and began beating the wheat stalks. But as she worked, she watched, covertly. She saw Flo talking to Wona, gesturing forcefully. She saw Wona’s amazement, her defiance, then her capitulation. Jes knew that Flo had threatened to kill Wona if she didn’t go—and Flo did have the stomach to do what she had to. So she had offered Wona a less harsh alternative, and Wona had had no choice but to accept it.
Wona got up and went to her daughter Wilda, a child of three. She was saying farewell, and the child hardly seemed to notice. Wilda cared about Sam, who played with her, and Flo, who nursed her; to the child, Wona was just another person in the family.
Then Wona came across to Jes, while the other two remained with the children. She looked grim, and there were tears on her face. So the separation was not entirely easy for her. Jes disliked her less, for that.
“You will guide me safely to Athens?”
“Yes.”
“And neither harm me nor allow me to come to harm?”
“As best I can.”
“And not leave me until I say it is all right?”
That was harder. “Until you have a satisfactory man.”
“No. Until I say it is all right. I want a man satisfactory to me, not to you.”
She had a point. She feared that Jes would declare a man to be suitable, just to be rid of her. “Agreed.”
“Swear it.”
“I swear it.”
Wona looked at her cannily. “You will travel as a man?”
“Yes.”
“Then make an oath of brotherhood to me.”
“I’m not going to be a man to you!” Jes said, embarrassed. She liked to emulate the ways of a man, but she was always a woman beneath.
“But others won’t know that.”
Jes considered. A non-family man might indeed seek to make sexual use of a woman he guarded, while he had the opportunity. A brother would not; he would be seeking her best interests, and other men would appreciate that. “I swear to be your brother, for this mission,” Jes said reluctantly.
Wona smiled. “I trust you, Jes. Others may twist their logic, seeking ways around their oaths. You don’t. You hold to your given word without equivocation.”
“Yes.”
“Then I will travel with you now.”
“Now?”
“Flo wants me out of here now.”
Jes looked across to Flo. They were too far apart for Flo to have heard, but the woman nodded. Jes realized that she didn’t want to give Ned any chance to reappear either. This had to be clean, involving no man. So it had to be now, while Sam was on a distant mission, and Dirk and Bry were out foraging for rebuilding materials. All the men must be innocent of this deed, though they would surely suspect its nature.
“Then get your things,” Jes said. “I will get mine.”
They went to the half-repaired house and packed their bags. Then they set off together, saying farewell to no one else.
They walked to the shore. They lived near the southern tip of Euboea, and so were part of the Delian League. The stately trieres of Athens, the ships with three banks of oars, protected them from any direct attack by the Spartans, who were not strong on water. It wasn’t enough, however; that was why Sam had gone far afield to trade for vital supplies, and why Wona had become too much of a burden to support any longer. Wona was mischief, certainly, and had to be dealt with; but even if she had not cheated on Sam, she would still have been a liability, because she didn’t pull her weight.
Jes’s small rowboat was one of the things they had that was especially useful. She employed it to get around the long coast, trading supplies (in better times) with neighbors for many leagues around. Jes liked to row; the boat was so smooth, and carried so much, compared to portage across land. She could, and often did, keep it up for many hours at a time, pretending she was an oarsman on a trieres. There was a special joy in sustained moderate exercise that made her forget for a while her general dissatisfaction with life.
They got in. Wona made no pretense of helping; even had she been of such a mind, her thin arms would not have been able to do much. So she sat in the bow, watching ahead, while Jes faced back and took the oars. She hardly needed to see where she was going; she was well familiar with this shore.
They crossed to a small island Jes knew, and another island, heading west as darkness came. Then, at the western shore of the island, they camped. Jes had used this site before, and had no hesitation. She dug out blankets from the cache she kept here; then threw out a line to fish. Then she made a small fire an
d cooked the fish, sharing it with Wona. There was no point trying to make the woman do anything constructive, and Jes did not bother. Neither did she attempt to engage in conversation; Wona had nothing worthwhile to offer there, either.
They slept, without event, though Jes remained alert for sounds, just in case. It was part of her manly training, never to, be caught off-guard, even during slumber.
In the morning she rearranged her homespun cloak, tying it in the masculine way. From here on, she would play the part of a man. Fortunately the clothing of men and women did not differ much; both wore loose-fitting garments that hung from the shoulder. Either a cloak called a peplos, or a sewn tunic called a chiton, made of homespun wool. The wealthy might don a cool linen chiton during the warm months, and have underclothing to alleviate the roughness of the wool. So about all Jes had to do, to change genders, was to tie a band of cloth around her chest to flatten her breasts, and arrange her short hair in the masculine way. And set her face in the somewhat superior mode men affected, especially in the presence of women.
There was one other thing: She used a peplos that had a special property. She had made it herself, and taken considerable trouble. It was reversible, sewn so that either side could be the exterior. The “male” side was rough gray; the “female” side was dull yellow. No man would wear yellow, unless in a play where he portrayed a woman.
They got in the boat, and set out across the channel. Jes stroked tirelessly, not pushing herself beyond her pace, for the distance was what would have been a day’s march on land. Now Wona had to participate, because she knew the likely consequence of a wrong direction: much longer time in the water, and possibly getting caught by a wrong current or wind and being borne entirely out to sea. Neither of them wanted that. They were hardly friends, but they had a common mission to travel safely. Meanwhile, in the long silences, Jes could pretend she was alone, and experience some of the deep relaxation of it. She knew that she could never actually row aboard a trieres, because she lacked the huge tough muscles, but by herself she could dream.
In six hours they made it to the mainland shore. Jes had not pushed herself too hard, but her arms knew they had had a solid workout, and she was glad to give her legs a turn. She hauled the boat to a thicket and concealed it carefully. Normally coastal residents respected private property, but after the devastation of the raiders that might have been here, it wasn’t safe to make assumptions.
Then Jes slung her bow over her shoulder, made sure of her knife, and was ready to travel. Wona, of course, was rested.
They set out on the hike westward. They were now on mainland Attica, the home territory of Athens. Jes had been here before, when trading on rare occasions with coastal folk, so knew there was a road not far inland. They walked until they encountered this, then Jes turned south.
“But isn’t Athens west?” Wona asked.
“It is, as the crow flies. But it will be much easier to follow the road, because it follows the contour and is clear, as well as leading past sanctuaries and settlements. It will curve west soon enough. All roads in Attica go to Athens, ultimately.”
“Oh.”
They followed the road south, and sure enough, within the hour it curved grandly west, passing a defiled sanctuary and a harbor with wreckage. The raiders had certainly been here.
There was something in the road ahead. It turned out to be a human body. Wona averted her gaze, but Jes kneeled to examine it. It was a man, his blood turning brown on the dirt, his equipment gone. Evidently a farmer or laborer, caught and murdered by the raiders, robbed and left where he had fallen.
“I don’t like this,” Jes murmured, a coldness going through her gut. She had hoped it wouldn’t come to this. Now she had to steel herself for violence.
“I hate gore,” Wona agreed.
Jes grimaced. She wasn’t partial to human gore herself, but it happened. They had seen the leavings of occasional quarrels on Euboea. “He hasn’t been dead long enough.”
“What does it matter? Two days or five days, he’ll still stink.”
“Precisely. He doesn’t stink. This man died within hours.”
Wona half turned, nervously. “Hours?”
“There has barely been time for the ants to find him. He was killed this morning.”
“But that means—”
“That the raiders are still here,” Jes finished grimly. “Probably a rear guard, to see that stragglers are collected, and that no Athenian troops are massing for a counterattack.”
Wona was increasingly alarmed. “They are supposed to be gone.”
“They are gone from Euboea, if they ever touched it. But this is farther in toward Athens. They must have recalled the outlying parties before withdrawing the main force. That’s standard practice. An army needs spies ahead and behind, so it neither walks into an ambush nor allows an ambush to close in its rear. The peripheral troops are probably headed north now, after a final sweep. But we had better be watchful, in case some remain in the vicinity. We are following closer than we thought.”
“Yes,” Wona agreed, looking rapidly about. “What of this one?”
“We’ll leave him. We have to reach a safe place to sleep, by nightfall.”
Wona nodded. “How far to—to a safe place?”
“There is a walled settlement within range by nightfall, if we travel well. I haven’t been there, but I know of it. From there it should be only another day to Athens.”
They resumed their trek, faster than before. Wona had been a slight drag, but now she kept the pace very well. She had good legs, and could walk when she had to.
But with raiders actually in the area, would walking well be enough? Jes knew that they would be foolish to gamble on that. She would have to educate Wona for war.
“You have a knife,” Jes said.
“Yes.”
“Do you know how to use it?”
“Ye&.”
“Demonstrate.”
Wona fumbled inside her garment, hauling out a tied purse-bag.
“You should have it readier to hand than that,” Jes said sternly. “If we encounter raiders intent on mayhem, you must be ready to defend yourself instantly. I can’t do it all.”
Wona nodded, appreciating the point.
“Now pretend I am a man grabbing for you,” Jes said, turning to her. “How do you dispatch me?”
Wona lifted the knife up above her head, pointing down.
“No good! He’ll just knock your arm aside and take it from you.” Jes demonstrated by blocking, then catching the woman’s arm and twisting it slowly until the knife was about to drop. She took it from the flaccid hand and stepped back. “Now suppose I am the woman, and you the man. Come at me.”
Wona reached for her. Jes brought the knife up from below her hip, until the point touched Wona’s belly. “Fast and hard, there, where he is soft. Twist as it enters. Then step back and let him fall.”
The woman seemed about to vomit. “I couldn’t—”
“You would rather be beaten, raped, and killed?” Jes asked harshly. “This will not be a nice, gentle man like Sam whom you can twist around your finger. He will likely see you as a fruit to be bitten and thrown away. You may have just one chance to get him, before he gets you. So keep this in mind, and act when you have to.”
Wona nodded wanly.
Jes had mercy on her. “Maybe we won’t encounter any raiders. We just have to be ready, in case.”
But in another hour, as the road bore northwest, they encountered exactly that kind of trouble. An enemy party of five men was marching down the road, toward them. Enemy mercenaries.
“Spartans!” Wona exclaimed.
“No,” Jes said tersely. “Persian mercenaries.”
“How do you know?”
“The Spartans generally don’t use bows. They have bronze helms with red plumes. These men use wicker shields covered in leather, and cloth head wrappings.”
“You know a lot about warriors,” Wona said, impressed.
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The two groups had sighted each other at the same time; it was too late to leave the road and hide. “This is mischief,” Jes muttered, bringing her bow down from her shoulders. “Too many to fight, too late to escape.”
“But they’ll—”
“Kill the man and rape the woman,” Jes said. “To start. We don’t want that. We’ll have to use desperate measures. I’ll flee; you open your robe and scream helplessly.”
“But your oath—”
“I’m not deserting you!” Jes snapped. “I can take out two with arrows; you can take out one with your knife, as I showed you. Don’t let him see it before you use it. It’s the other two we have to finesse. You must distract them, just long enough. Trust me, and do your part. Do you understand?”
Cunning showed through Wona’s fear. She did have half a notion of the ways of necessity. She nodded. The knife was in her hand, hidden behind a fold of her robe.
“Wait for my signal,” Jes said. “Remember: underhand, hard into the gut, and twist.” Her heart was pounding, but she had already appraised the opposition. It was a rag-tag bunch, rather than a disciplined group; they might have been drinking pilfered wine while on patrol. Two had bows; three had spears. She had to take out the bowmen first.
She kneeled, nocking an arrow and taking careful aim. She had never before taken aim with intent to kill a human being, but she abated this concern by reminding herself that the enemy would surely do worse to the two of them if it got the chance, just as she had told Wona. Unless she could bluff them off.
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