“Oh, Lady,” I whispered and admired my reflection. Tears poured down my face. What could possibly compare to this precious gift? I was more than just a slave. I was Beauty. What a treasure! What a fine, fine gift.
“Ah,” she cautioned and waved her fingers before my eyes. “You must make a choice.” With trembling fingers and much regret I released the girdle’s clasp. I exhaled as the weight of it slipped free from my body for I had not realized how heavy it was.
She seemed amused. Her other hand extended from the folds of her pleated gown. When I saw what she offered, I did not know what to say.
A rose.
A single, perfect, living rose of the purest white. It was whiter than the untainted dove, paler than the foam on the waves….even purer than the white of my lover’s pearly grin. Her fingers nestled cautiously between the sharp, spiked thorns on the stem. The scent of the rose was rich and sweet.
When she offered it to me, I cradled the fragile blossom between my palms--afraid even my skin might stain it. The stem wound around my arms like a serpent. I felt the prickle of thorns and loosened my grip. I took one last whiff of the rose’s sweet scent and placed it back into her hands.
“Which of them will you choose?” asked the Lady. “Which of them suits you?”
Well, there could be no indecision! My hands reached eagerly for the fine golden girdle, but just shy of grasping it, I paused.
Was this yet another test? Could the two gifts really be what they seemed?
All my life I’ve reached for what I could not attain without forethought to the consequences. I dared not incur a goddess’ wrath now. The hairs on the back of my neck prickled. There was more to this, I was certain.
“A moment,” I begged and walked a few steps to the edge of my cot.
Chapter Eighteen
Aesop had ever cautioned me to think before I acted.
Well, I could not afford to scorn a Goddess. The girdle was a treasure to be sure, but it was also an object of binding. Was it meant to constrain me in more than one way? And here was the rose she offered, wild and sweet, but thorny. A living plant grew and blossomed, reseeded and died, and grew again.
Did I deserve a goddess’ treasure? Surely not. The Lady wished to see if my eternal pride would cheat her out of my loyalty. I weighed my options with no small measure of indecision.
The girdle served a purpose. That counted for something. It could be used. What use did a rose have other than adornment and adoration?
The Lady watched me pacing back and forth before my window. I caught her sly smile and the way her fingers tightened on her girdle. Slightly, yes, but I saw her. Did she loathe to part with it? Or was it the gift she wished for me to choose? Oh, the indecision was driving me mad. Where was Aesop with his logic to guide me?
“Your choice,” the Lady cooed. “What is it?” She smiled archly.
I thought a moment more.
Thanks to my master Charaxus, I had treasures aplenty. The girdle was a lifeless thing. And I had been raised to treasure life and freedoms. The rose was alive, and so therefore, more precious to me. So, I made my decision.
I grasped the Lady’s hand, the one holding the white rose. The thorns scratched my hands, and a jagged, painful line of crimson bloomed on the side of my marriage finger--the one leading to the heart.
“This is my choice,” I gasped. I winced as the stem curled around my palms and more thorns stung me like a serpent. This is what I deserved from a goddess.
“So be it,” said the Lady. I could not tell if she were pleased.
She drew my bleeding fingers into the hot, moist cavern of her perfect red lips. Her tongue laved the blood from my finger tip. In an instant, I arched in ecstasy, and my body convulsed and flooded with release. When she withdrew my finger to smile at me with blood-stained teeth, I awoke with a jerk in my cold, narrow cot. I glanced at my hands, but there was no mark from the thorns on my palms. The throb of fulfilled desire strummed through me like a lyre and the sweet scent of roses clung to the air.
I slept soundly the rest of the night.
*** ***
The next morning Charaxus sailed to Naukratis, to check on the arrival of his Lesbian wine. With my master away, I’d decided to try out more of my new language by haggling for some new plants for my courtyard garden.
I successfully negotiated for a scraggly, white climbing rose, which reminded me in a vague and pitiful way of the Lady’s gift. The blooms were ivory, rather than white, true, and the perfume not as potent, but still it would do. Some careful tending and I was sure I could make it grow.
“Flower.” Hori caught my arm as I turned down a narrow side street. He pulled me against the nearest wall and crushed my potted plant between us. “I pine for you,” he said and kissed me hard and quick on the mouth. He tasted like cinnamon. “Why do you not come to see me?”
The air between us was thick with heat and roses as the squashed petals released their fragrance into the air.
“Hori, please.” I pushed him back and busied my quaking hands by fussing over the crooked stems. My heart took flight from his nearness and the touch of his mouth on mine. “You are Rada’s man. I have no business with you.”
Hori looked thunderstruck, as if Boreas had speared him with a lightning bolt. “No business?” he cried. “No business! What of love, sweet Flower?”
Love. The word buffeted around my thumping heart until I was sure my soul would leap from my chest and into Hori’s arms. Perhaps this was the gift of my Lady? Was not the very symbol of it, the rose, here in my arms?
“You are promised to Rada.” I protested.
“I am yours.” Hori stroked the hair from my face. “Meet me in your garden courtyard when the moon is high.” And he turned the corner and was gone.
I don’t know how I found my way back home. Thank the gods it was a familiar route. Rada quirked her brow at me, but I turned away and went to the courtyard to plant my rose where the fragrance could waft into my room. As I raked the soil and watered the roots, my fingers trembled. What was I doing? Regret and anticipation warred within me. I should not have offered to meet Hori. No, wait, I deserved this. This is my goddess’ gift. Hori of the smooth copper skin and the pearly white teeth.
I could not eat the evening meal, for indecision made me ill. The servants cleaned up without comment and retired for the evening, leaving only old Menekhet and Rada. How I wished Rada would go home to her own family. But she and the old man Menekhet lived at the house. Still….
“Rada?” I caught her in the hall. “I wish you to visit with your family tonight. Your mother must be longing to see you.”
I caught a flash of yearning, quickly replaced by suspicion in Rada’s kohl-rimmed gaze.
“Why?” she asked.
My heart sank. I am a horrid liar. “Charaxus is away.” Why not state the obvious? “I am retiring to bed. I…I haven’t felt well all day.”
True enough. I’d been unable to sit still for longer than the briefest of moments and I’d eaten nothing all afternoon. My stomach churned to burning froth and butterflies.
“You should take this opportunity to visit with your family.” Ha! She could not turn down my offer without appearing to be ungracious. I felt a stab of guilt. Hori might not want her, but I still wished her to be happy.
Rada considered me for a long moment. Then, she smiled. “Thank you. I will.”
I watched her depart until the swaying outline of her silhouette faded into the sunset sky. Then I paced the hallway until Menekhet gave me a toothless grin. I shooed him towards the slave quarters with a stern glare. His shoulders drooped as he trudged out.
The moon crept across the indigo sky. I brushed out my hair and put on my best gown, wondering if Hori was as anxious as I. His lithe form danced through my thoughts as I rubbed cosmetics into my nipples in Egyptian fashion. I imagined his hand caressing me and they beaded with the pressure. Would he think me alluring? I hoped so.
He must want me, I thought.
I needed Hori to buy my freedom from Charaxus.
Moments stretched to minutes and minutes seemed like hours. I tried to chart the moon’s path through the sky as I had been taught in the temple, but there were far too many stars. I jumped at every sound, so I lit a small lamp hoping for comfort from night’s cool blanket. Chill bumps puckered my exposed flesh.
When the moon was directly overhead, I began to worry. What could be keeping Hori? Had he been attacked by thieves? Or, far worse, was he already in the arms of another woman? Rada had been exceedingly eager to leave. Perhaps she…a soft thump at the far end of the courtyard interrupted my thoughts. I leapt up from the bench, wishing I had something with which to protect myself. I brandished my garden trowel, abandoned earlier that afternoon.
“Mrrrrow?” Ankh stalked from the shadows and rubbed his stiff whiskers and furry head on my ankles. Weak with relief, I tossed the trowel into the bushes and laughed at my own foolishness.
“Naughty beast,” I whispered as I gathered him into my arms. His soft, furry body smelled like oleander and dust. He squirmed and leapt to the ground.
“Oho,” I said. “My ankles will do, but not my embrace, you capricious thing!” Ankh padded into the darkness, his tail upright and twitching.
“Hello?” called a soft voice from just beyond my lantern’s glow. “Flower?”
It was Hori!
I ran to him with my slippers jingling welcome. We embraced beneath the stars. Hori ran his hands through my hair and down my shoulders. He tweaked my nipples, cupping my bare left breast in his hot palm, and whispered unintelligible words into my mouth as he kissed me.
Oh, how sweet the taste of forbidden flesh! Hori should not be here, I knew this, and yet I could not resist the surge of my blood. At last I would lie with a man of my own choosing!
Hori felt warm and strong. His arms encircled me and I inhaled the scent of his skin rich with cedar and spice. What did I care if the weave of his shenti was not fine? The whites of his eyes shone like stars, beacons in the darker rims of kohl lining them.
“Your hair is soft as the feathery papyrus and your eyes as bright as the sun on the Nile,” he said. His hand inched up my thigh. His hand squeezed my breasts urgently. “Kiss me, Flower.”
I did, but perhaps Hori was not as practiced in the arts of love as I had dreamed, for my passion was not roused. Indeed, I did not feel anything. I tried to focus on him, many times I tried, without success.
Hori’s hand crept again and again up my thigh. I don’t know why I persisted in shifting away, but something was not quite right.
“Here, let us not stand as strangers,” I said and pointed to the bench. We sat together. Hori kissed the back of my neck, but he did not please me.
“What is wrong?” Hori asked.
I did not know how to answer, save that this was not the greater glory I had imagined in my head. Still, I needed to entice him, for how else would a man wish to purchase me, if not for desire?
“Wait.” I smiled to soften the blow. “Let me come to you tomorrow. I need to think.”
“What is there to think of, but me?” Hori smiled winningly.
“I am in earnest, Hori. Go now, before we are discovered.” I put my hands against his smooth chest and pushed him lightly to his feet.
He reached for me again, but when he saw I would not relent, he scowled like a child denied a favorite toy and clambered back over the wall without bidding me good night.
*** ***
In the morning, Rada stomped about the dining hall. She plunked the platters of food in front of me. I kept my eyes and face neutral, but Menekhet stared at the pair of us as if we’d grown goat’s horns.
As the morning meal drew to a close, I fled from Rada’s temper and delivered some food to Hori. He had no woman to cook for him, and after last night, I wanted to play the part of an adoring lover. Perhaps it might entice my heart to be more moved by Hori’s caresses. This might be my only chance to gain some measure of happiness that was not purchased or decided for me.
The thought of gaining freedom after so many years made my heartbeat quicken as I turned down the alley to Hori. As I entered the workshop, I saw Hori with his hands up the skirt of a pretty young Egyptian girl. She couldn’t have been much older than I was when I’d left the temple. I watched his buttocks flex as he pushed into her. My stomach lurched. With each pleasured moan, every shred of interest I’d felt for Hori’s affections dissipated like steam rising from the desert sands, along with my hopes for being free. I thought I might be sick.
The bread I’d brought slid onto the floor followed by the beer which sprayed over the effigy of Ptah, the artificer, in the alcove by the door.
Hori whirled, his eyes glazed with lust. “Flower?” He jerked away from the girl with an unmanly squeak, his upright phallus pointing like a spear at my heart.
It was then I realized that I was a mere vessel for his lust. He did not want me—he wanted anyone who was willing. Surely, this could not be the promise of my Lady!
Hori would never want to see me freed.
“Flower,” he began. The girl turned her face to the wall.
“Don’t.” I backed away. “Never darken my house with your shadow again.” I turned and ran up the side street before he could come after me.
If he even planned to come after me at all.
I’m not certain how I made my way home. My mind reeled, and I think my feet moved of their own accord to the paths of slavery where I was most accustomed. I wandered through the marketplace for some time, until Rada found me and dragged me home. She must have been spying on me again. She clutched my arm and pushed me into the house of Charaxus, scolding me all the while.
Well, if she knew my shame, then so would the entire city, and if the city knew, then Charaxus would find out soon enough. I did not care. My heart was swallowed up in misery. Why was I so lacking that I should not inspire love, even in a lowly craftsman? I’d hoped his love would win me my freedom.
I crawled onto my bed and would not eat for the rest of the day or night. How much I wanted to cry, and yet I found I could not. I was as dry and empty as the vast desert beyond my courtyard walls.
I stared up at the ceiling of my room and prayed to the Lady. Aside from a dream rose, my prayers had gone unanswered, and while the dream was as vivid as the roses growing in my garden, it was of little consequence to me. Perhaps she held no power here, but I prayed nonetheless.
Lady, I am your servant. I do not understand why you withhold your gifts from me.
I was so desperate to be free I would have given myself over to an unfaithful craftsman. I was worse than unworthy of my goddess. I’d called her Love, and yet I had not followed my heart. Truly, I was a desperate and stupid creature.
Charaxus arrived home the next day. I should have seen what was to come, but I was too full of my own grief to notice. My goddess had abandoned me.
“Doricha?” He found me by the pool. He looked tired. I swear he shriveled before my eyes.
I tried to muster some emotion that he had returned to me safely, but I could not. I was shackled, perhaps forever to be his woman. And no proper woman at that, for my heart was dead.
I looked away.
“Petal? What is it? What is wrong?” He knelt and embraced me. The scent of salty brine was still on his robes, and his hands left filthy smudges on my skin. At that, inexplicably, tears pricked behind my eyes. I began to cry. I could not help it.
“Shh, Petal! I am here now. There is no need for tears. I am safely home.” He rocked me in his arms.
I am ashamed now of the way I clutched at him--at the way I let him cradle me. How I fooled him into thinking the tears I cried were for him. I sobbed. I wailed. I pulled at my hair.
He lifted me in his arms and kissed me. He led me to the pool’s edge and we sank into the water together, while my clothing dragged at our twining limbs. He kissed my cheeks, my lips and my eyes. I let him. I did more than let him.
I suckled his
bottom lip. My fingernails marked his back as I clung to him and I panted like a wild creature, like the Maenads of my forbearers. I wanted him inside me with a desperation I’d never felt. I welcomed the bite of the pool’s stone edge against my backside as he pawed aside the fabric floating between us and thrust into me. His tongue plunged into my mouth and I cried out with pleasure. I moaned and thrust my hips against him.
I wanted to feel something, anything….
“Ah, Petal, my love…my love…” Charaxus sank his teeth into my soft shoulder before he released his seed.
I reveled in the pain. I felt.
“Yes, yes!” I shouted as he spent himself inside me. “You do love me. You love me, Charaxus.” I held him tightly, until his senses returned.
He stiffened and pulled away, staring at me with an odd expression. His eyes became suspicious. “You are different, Petal. What goes here?”
I could not bear to look at him. I slogged out of the pool and peeled the sodden clothing from my skin. I hoped the sight of my nakedness would distract him, but it did not. The haze of lust had already faded from him.
“Petal? What has happened while I was away?” His brows drew together.
“Nothing,” I lied. “Nothing happened.” I thought to love an Egyptian craftsman who did not love me, I finished in my head.
Charaxus frowned and pushed me towards the house. “Get dressed.”
I sloshed to my room, spattering droplets of water like tears the entire length of the hall. With shaking hands, I pulled on my second best dress. I heard Charaxus call to Rada and the other servants to make a report. What would they tell? What could they say? I had not done anything with Hori, really. Just kissed his supple lips and stroked his smooth, copper skin. I’d let him touch me, but not for long. Let Rada make her report. I told myself I did not care but I crept nearer to the doorway and strained my ears for any sound.
Silence fell over the house. After a few moments, I went back and dried my hair. I tried to arrange it; without Rada’s hands to help me, I could not train my long locks into any semblance of order. I let it dry, long and flowing as a young girl’s. Then I waited and waited longer still.
HETAERA: Daughter of the Gods Page 21