The trader looked puzzled. “Your…er…patrons?” He eyed the gold gleaming at my throat.
“Yes. The city will soon know how you have dealt with Rhodopis.”
It was the first time I’d thought of myself as anyone other than Doricha, the slave. The name flowed out my mouth like honey, and the trader’s tongue darted out to wet his lips as if he could taste the sweetness in it.
“Rhodopis, you say.” He made a short bow. “I had no idea…of course, a bargain should be struck. Perhaps if I were to offer you a more amenable price, your opinion would improve?” He smiled ingratiatingly.
“Perhaps,” I returned the grin, showing my teeth.
In the end, I paid less for my rose-gold slippers than he had originally offered. I ran home to show them off to Aesop.
“I thought I told you not to spend without consulting me? You are becoming quite unruly these days.” Aesop grumbled.
“Oh, don’t be angry with me Aesop. Look!”
There had been enough left over from our feast preparations to splurge on a flagon of wine for Aesop and myself. When the last drop was gone, I twirled about the room in a giddy fit. His eyes sparkled when he saw me dancing in the precious jingling slippers.
I took another mincing step. “I never thought I would own them again. Who would have thought we’d grow so wealthy?” I sang.
“You mean, you have grown so wealthy,” he said, sounding irritable. He eyed my delicate ankles. “I do not think these men come to hear me half as much as they do to see your fine pale body.”
“Don’t be silly,” I clasped his hands and tried to lead him into my stumbling dance. The room whirled in front of my eyes, and I ended up collapsing in a giggling heap on his lap.
He sucked air between his teeth and his hands went around my waist to steady me.
“Hush, you scoundrel. I am not heavy.” I leaned back against his chest and closed my eyes to block out the whirling room.
Aesop’s hands tightened. “Have I complained?” he asked. “Doricha, we must talk.” His voice was odd, but I did not care. The night was a rollicking dance of moonlight, jasmine breeze, and wine.
“Fa, I don’t want to talk. After listening to the Assyrian prattle on in his stilted Greek, I think I shall never want to talk again. I cannot believe you accepted an offer from him. Get up!” I stood and tried to yank him to his feet. “I want to dance!”
Aesop did stand but he grabbed me about the waist again, and pulled me close to him. “Little Flower.” His voice was thick. I dimly registered his body pressing against mine. “Come here.” He covered my mouth with his own.
Clarity pierced through my wine fogged brain. I pushed him away. “Aesop,” I said. “Stop that. What are you about?”
He stepped back and ran a hand through his hair. “I know not. Only that you drive me wild with the need to be near you.”
“Oh!” I cried and clapped my hands over my ears. “Stop this. I don’t want to hear anymore of men and their desires. I am full up of desire!”
It pained me to push him away, Aesop, my only friend. I cared for him, but not as a lover. He’d kissed me once before, long ago in Iadmon’s home. The outcome was no different. I was alarmed by his ardor, not enticed!
“Doricha.” He struggled to pull my hands away from my ears. “Dori, please. Let us make a new plan. We can finish our business here. I will take you back to Greece if you wish.”
“And what is my business, but to become a hetaera? The first in Egypt, I think!”
“You could be a wife,” he suggested, almost too softly to hear.
His words hit me like a fist. Aesop, the only one I trusted in all of Egypt wished to shackle me to a respectable house in Greece? I had long since given up on marriage proposals to secure my freedom.
“How dare you make me such an offer? Was it not you who bade me stay and live free in Egypt? Did you not warn me it was the only place I could live as I wished?”
“I will protect you.”
“Protect me from whom? I am your friend, Aesop. I do not wish to be your chattel in Greece. I have a mind of my own!”
He swiped a hand over his sweating forehead. “Please, I-I cannot watch these other men snarl over your sweet young body anymore. I want you for myself. No other woman has touched me here,” he pointed to his forehead, “as you have. I’d not thought it possible. But….”
“And what of your dear Sappho?” He stared at me blankly. “Did she not tantalize you with her mind? She warned you to set me free. Whoever loved me would be cursed by the gods. What of that?”
A pounding ache massed behind my eyes and I thought I might be sick. The wine churned in my stomach. I could not believe Aesop, my only friend, should turn on me like this.
“I…I…” he turned away from me, but said no more. I’d struck the great Fabulist dumb, and I’d never felt worse in my heart. “I care for you, girl. Do you not feel the tiniest bit inclined to love me in return?”
I put my arms around him, resting my head against his broad back. “Sappho herself warned you. I am not meant for love. You are my dearest friend, my savior. Do you remember when you kissed me long ago in Abdera?” I felt him nod, or perhaps he merely trembled beneath my cheek. “It was wrong, even then.”
After a long moment, when I felt certain my heart would break, he turned away from me. “Yes, yes, of course. You are right. It is nothing. Forget I mentioned it.” He glanced at the door. “I’ll be back soon.” He quit our house as if nothing at all was amiss.
But, I did not sleep for a long time, and Aesop had not returned by the time I closed my eyes for rest.
*** ***
The following year was filled with new patrons. The Inundation swelled the Nile’s banks and ships sailed easily to and fro throughout all of Egypt. Trade was brisk, and my business was no exception. Aesop began to absent himself from the banquets, so I was forced to negotiate on my own behalf.
I hired a few of the prettier Egyptian girls full time to entertain my lesser patrons, while I jested and recited some of Aesop’s fables. I took fewer and fewer assignations myself, until the day came, when I had enough wealth and influence, my name was spoken in the upper echelons. I was the foremost courtesan of Naukratis, and I lay with fewer than a handful of men in any given season. A mock rivalry surfaced amongst my patrons, and I delighted in their transparent attempts to curry my favor. I, who once had to beg in the streets…what a short memory the city has!
All in all, infamy was not so difficult to maintain. There was the tailor who declared my dancing to be legendary and sent me a gown so fine the Greek wife of Pharaoh, Ladice, would have been jealous. Then the butcher, who pinched my soft flesh with his hammy fingers, and sent round a brace of roasted geese dripping with honey. The jeweler who draped my pale, naked body with ropes of gems and precious metals.
When I knelt and took him in my mouth, as Young Iadmon had once bade me, the jeweler sucked air into his lungs so fast, I thought I’d bitten him. He clenched his fingers in my long hair. A moan of pleasure escaped his lips as I used my soft hands to finish him. When he departed, he left everything, even the wide bronze collar of jasper and carnelian that he’d spent himself on.
It was almost a breach of etiquette, payment for services rendered. Such would ruin my reputation as a courtesan and could reduce me back to the streets. So, I sent it back with a sharp reprimand for him to consider our dealings more carefully. After a week’s time, the response was an ill-crafted poem in my honor, and an elaborate diadem of electrum and onyx to hold back the veils in which I draped myself from Egypt’s burning red sun. This was a far better gift, to be sure.
Only one night out of the next ten banquets did Aesop attend, draped three times over with a bevy of Egyptian girls who fawned over him as if he’d strung stars across the desert sky. I wondered how many of his “gifts” to them were paid with from my own labors. I snapped at him when he returned the next morning, reeking of fine perfumes. He cursed me as a harpy and stormed out, with angry eyes.
The following week, Aesop received an invitation from the Babylonian King Nebuchadnezzar, who wished to meet him and become more worldly though Aesop’s tutelage.
“Will you go?” I asked. I already knew his answer.
“I have always wished to see his miracle gardens,” he said, “although I’m sure they are nothing compared to yours, Doricha.”
Ah, Aesop, ever the flatterer. “Then you must tell me of them, when I see you next.”
He opened his mouth to speak and closed it again. Finally, he said an abrupt farewell and kissed me once on the cheek. Tears stung my eyes as I watched him pack his things and leave.
Though my heart ached, I knew it was for the best. We could not continue, once he’d proclaimed his love. He had too much pride and I too much guilt to live together now.
*** ***
Men of great importance all pass through Naukratis. Soon it was said every Greek knew my name. Tales were spread far and wide, only half of which were based in truth. I perpetuated the rumors, by making extravagant gestures and throwing the most intriguing banquets. Coin flowed like water from the Nile. I hired acrobats and revelers from the East, Nubian dancers and jugglers. I bade a seamstress to attire me Grecian finery, Persian silks, even a costume made of spotted cat fur that only just covered my breasts and crotch.
"Rhodopis," my patrons cried, "You must go to the home of Rhodopis!"
I would say I was a far more equitable host than given credit, for I did not dance for only the Greeks. I danced and pleased anyone who had enough coin or gifts to offer.
Now I had only myself to feed and clothe, I rented a new house, away from the memories of Aesop, with a larger garden already displaying the first green shoots of new growth. And every coin spent on luxurious plants and furnishings only enhanced my reputation and returned to me a hundred fold. My latest patrons, no longer common merchants and traders, now included the son of a minor nome leader, a prince from Punt who brought ivory and exotic spotted and striped animal skins of orange and black and gold, and Setis, a bureaucrat.
Setis offered me the use of two servants which I accepted. I trained the young girl to arrange my hair and serve, and the man I put to work in the kitchen. The garden I tended myself. As I could afford to be selective in my pursuits, I busied myself with creating my own paradise. My days as a slave and a common street whore seemed very far away, indeed.
One day all the world will know your name as a symbol of beauty and grace, my mother had promised.
I smiled as I patted the soil around my new olive tree. Though I did not think this was quite the infamy my mother had dreamt of and the name was not truly my own, still, her words rang true. I was far better off here, than in a vulnerable village in Perperek or cramped underneath a mountain in a temple nest of vipers. But, I missed Aesop’s presence, for without him, I was truly alone despite unending invitations from the curious and the carnal.
I arranged for dancing girls to perform, and for those lucky individuals with enough coin or influence, I donned my rose-gold slippers and rendered them speechless. There are those who say my own influence grew in those days, but as one who makes her living by satisfying the many passions of others, I cannot say it is so.
I wanted for nothing, true, except for the one thing denied me. I’d stopped praying for love with the fateful end of my affair with Hori. What a silly girl I’d been to trifle with a charmer’s affections and to think it love. Love was not for one such as me, no matter what my dream goddess had promised. But freedom, ah yes, sweet freedom was quite another thing. And wealth--a new advantage I distributed among my servants and the other girls with equal aplomb. It kept them more loyal to me than any law of Egypt.
Finally the day came when my world turned golden and bright. I’d gone to the agora early for there was aught I would buy. I cannot remember now what it was, perhaps a new plant for the garden.
I crossed the slave stocks as I went, and happened to notice a number of new arrivals standing there for sale. Many of them bore the familiar features of Greece and a few sported red or gold hair. I pitied them. I could not help myself, I drew nearer. As I did, one figure stood out from the rest--a figure that made my heart leap into my throat and my hands clench.
“Mara!” I cried.
She turned her head dully at my voice. Her eyes focused blearily on me, and then to my horror, she crumpled right there on the stand. A trader strode over to her and began to prod her.
My feet grew wings. I hitched up my skirts and ran, heedless of the men whistling at me. It seemed I would never reach her. I ran all the way up on the platform and threw myself over her rousing form.
“Stop!” I shouted as the trader moved to deliver another blow. “Stop, I will buy her. I wish to buy this girl.” The words rushed out of my mouth. Me, who swore never to house a slave.
“She is a lazy slut, and ill besides,” called another trader. “Have a look at my stock instead.”
“No.” I fumbled with my full coin purse. I tried to regain my composure and help the still silent Mara to her feet. She looked about her in a daze, and I saw her cheeks and eyes redden in a way that meant tears would follow. “No, I want only this one. Here,” and I thrust some coins at the dumbfounded trader, before he could react. “Here, she is mine, now!”
In a fit, I yanked the leather cord off her neck guided her off the platform. I scarce recall making my mark, but somehow the deal was done.
“Safe,” I murmured to Mara. “You are safe, now.”
Mara stared at me. “You’re alive,” she said. Her unsteady hand reached out to stroke my hair. Gods, but she was pale and thin. “You’re alive,” she repeated, and crumpled again at my feet.
Chapter Twenty Three
“Merikos went mad after you were forced out of the temple,” Mara croaked. “He raved up and down the hallways shouting your mother’s name and tearing at his robes.”
“I don’t believe it.” I set a cup of warmed wine with honey next to her. The healers I’d hired assured me Mara would heal with rest and care, and I meant to give her the best of both.
She took a sip and winced as it hit her raw throat. “It’s true. He threw himself off a ledge outside the temple. I saw his body, broken and bleeding at the bottom of the cliffs.” She shuddered. “Such a waste. The gods will not have him, now. Aidne ordered him buried without a blessing. She took complete control of the temple afterwards. She blackened the names of you and your mother, and I was afraid, so I ran away.”
“You were very brave.” I smoothed her hair away from her face. “Aidne was too powerful. She would have given you trouble, I am certain. You were wise and brave to cheat her of that pleasure.”
Mara grabbed my hand and held it tight, as a drowning man reaches for a low branch.
“No, Dori. I was foolish. I was frightened of Aidne, when I should’ve been more frightened of what exists outside our temple….” Her voice trailed off and she looked away. “Ho-how did you…I mean, how could you…stand…what they did?” I waited for her to finish, but she did not speak for a long moment and she would not meet my eyes.
The hairs on the back of my neck prickled. “What who did, Mara?”
I put my fingers under her chin and tipped her face so she could not look away. Her blue eyes were shadowed. My heart felt as if it would break. I wanted to know the whole story, I had to know, and yet I knew deep down this was an experience I never dreamed I’d share with my near sister.
“Slavers caught me on the roadside. There were three of them. Horrid, stinking, filthy beasts. They did things to me…and for so long afterwards.” She shook her head fiercely just as the first of her tears plopped onto her flushed cheeks. Her eyes closed and her breath grew rapid and shallow as a sparrow.
I gathered her to my bosom. “I know, my dearest, I know,” I crooned.
And I did know.
We were alike, she and I, in so many ways. But I refused to succumb to despair. Aesop said this world was not for women. Well, I woul
d make it so, if only here in Egypt, in my own little sphere of influence. And I would protect Mara in the process. I had more wealth than I could imagine, and patrons who were even more wealthy and influential. The city lauded me, and commoners bowed as I passed them in the streets. All I had at my disposal I could offer to Mara, my near sister.
My voice was steady as I described my plight with Cyrus, Iadmon, and Aesop. She gripped my hands in her icy fingers and nodded her head. Young Iadmon, the Lady, Sappho and Charaxus, Hori…I told it all from beginning to end. What happened back then, and what I did now, to live freely.
When I finished, she lay back on the bed and stared at me.
“So,” she said at last. And nothing else.
“So,” I responded.
“How can you bear it?”
Oh, what a complex question. “Because I must? I don’t know, Mara. This is not the life I was trained for in the temple, but I find I can bear it better than my bonds of slavery.”
She made a displeased snort. “You are still a slave. You just don’t recognize what binds you.”
I stared at her. “No, Mara. No. I am mistress, here. For all that I am built for pleasing, it is I who demand pleasure--in all its forms. Look around you. Should I give up my home, my garden, the fine food and drink? Tell me?”
“You are a slave to your passions.” She shuddered again. “Your god-given talents should be used for more than mere base pleasures.” Her eyes welled anew.
“What will I do then?” I asked. “If I find these so-called shackles tolerable, will you begrudge me some measure of contentment? After all I have endured?”
Mara’s cheeks turned pink. “I will not.”
“Good. Tomorrow, then, I will go to the docks and proclaim you are free.”
“Oh, Dori.” Mara gasped. “You cannot! What would I do then? Will you expect me to earn my keep as you have chosen?”
“Don’t be ridiculous!” I began, but Mara cut me off.
“I won’t do it. I will never dance for any man. And I am not suited for anything else, but to be a slave.”
HETAERA: Daughter of the Gods Page 27