"I plan to learn about you," Halcyon said, calmly. She raised an eyebrow, and curiosity colored her features. "I want to know who you are and where you come from."
Sighing, Makistia disliked that Greeks spoke to her regardless of the barrier.
"And I will find out." Halcyon picked up a wine skyphos that Cesare had filled earlier. She rested the clay skyphos in her lap. "First, you can tell me your name." She raised the skyphos to her lips and sipped the sweet wine.
Makistia clenched her hands behind her back. Halcyon's eyes held expectations that were lost on her.
Halcyon set the skyphos on the table. After a thought, she placed her hand against her chest and said, "My name is Halcyon." Then her hand traveled to Makistia's arm. "Your name is?"
Makistia narrowed her eyes at Halcyon. It was clear that Halcyon was asking her something, but she failed to translate the request.
Halcyon gave a soft sigh, stood up, and approached her. Again, she rested her hand on her own chest. "Halcyon." Then she touched Makistia's shoulder.
Briefly looking at the hand on her shoulder, Makistia studied Halcyon's cool features again and finally stated, "Makistia."
Halcyon shook her head in disapproval. "Your birth name." She narrowed her eyes and added, "Makistia is your slave name."
Makistia had a thin furrow across her brow. For some reason, her reply was insufficient even though it was true. Then it occurred to Makistia that her owner wanted her name by birth, from her homelands. She focused on her owner's waiting look.
"Thora," Makistia stated, her voice tinged with dignity. She was rewarded with a thin smile.
"Th-or-ah," Halcyon said disjointedly and released her. Makistia's real name was from faraway lands and completely foreign to Halcyon.
Makistia shook her head and slowly drew out her name. "Ttthhhooorrraaa." From Halcyon's expression, Makistia repeated it slower. "Th-or-a."
Halcyon was confused by the first two letters, attempting it again. "Thhhoraaa." After Makistia's nod, she tried it again at normal pace. "Thora."
Makistia had a small smile and nodded. "Yes," she agreed in Greek tongue. It was obvious that her owner was pleased to learn her birth name.
Returning to her seat, Halcyon nodded to herself and ordered, "Go see Cesare."
Makistia, or rather rightly called Thora, dipped her head and then quietly left her owner.
Halcyon had a grape between her index finger and thumb. As she studied it, she considered her new slave's birth name. It was rather special, just like Thora. Halcyon wondered what the name meant in Thora's native tongue.
Halcyon was content to forget the name Makistia.
* * *
Over the days, the sun tirelessly trekked across the sky. Gradually, the new slave adapted more to her surroundings. Her beginnings had been difficult, but she learned to respect her new owner. The first blossom of understanding budded when Halcyon learned Thora's birth name. However, Thora's bottled pride and Halcyon's will were still as Greek fire.
Eventually, Thora learned that Halcyon's constant absence was due to her duty as a warrior. Or rather a hoplite, Thora mentally corrected. A few times, Thora caught glimpses of Halcyon leaving through the gate in the soft dawn light with reflective armor. On occasions, Halcyon left at sunset to carry out her duty. But Thora always saw Halcyon for the evening meal.
One day, Thora was especially busy. She had risen earlier than normal in order to be prepared for this evening's event, which included a regular guest. By now, she should have been accustomed to her owner's special guest, who was excessively snobbish. Halcyon wanted the evening handled in a particular way. Thora clamped down on her frustration over the situation.
Thora sighed but continued slicing the flatbread. Her wandering thoughts disrupted her focus, and the knife unexpectedly ran down her thumb. She cursed and dropped the knife. After inspecting her bleeding thumb, she clamped down tightly on the wound with the towel from her girdle.
Cesare entered with a flustered expression. "Thora, hurry!" With an overbearing wake, he pointed at the partially cut bread but paused upon seeing Thora clutching her hand. Once at her side, he tried inspecting her hand for the problem, but she kept refusing him. Annoyed because he wanted to help, Cesare swatted Thora's hand away. "Stop."
Thora followed the command from her superior and lowered her uninjured hand to her side.
Cesare was grateful and removed the towel, only to sigh at the minor cut. Ripping a piece of towel, he tied it over the bleeding wound, then handed her the towel while pointing at the bread again. "Hurry."
Thora nodded and returned to her task. She saw Cesare picking up a filled wine oinochoe from the counter and heading out of the kitchen. She stilled her knife and called, "Cesare?"
Cesare paused next to the entrance.
"Thank... you."
For once, Cesare traded a smile and then dashed out of the kitchen without another word.
Soon Thora placed the cut flatbread onto a wooden board. The board already held a large bowl of herbed olive oil, feta, and another bowl of grapes. She hoisted the substantial board off the counter, then left the kitchen.
Thora entered the courtyard, then turned to her right and climbed a small flight of steps. The upstairs had a small social room known as the gynaikeion that was reserved for the wife. Spartans continued many Greek traditions, despite the fact that Spartan women held full control of the house because their husbands were often in the barracks or at war. Thora thought the Greek home's segregation was strange compared to her homelands.
Thora hurried into the gynaikeion and found Cesare pouring wine for the guest. She wondered if Cesare knew of her disdain for the person.
Halcyon was pleased by Thora's arrival. "Thora," she said and pointed at her guest, who was sprawled out on a comfortable kline.
Thora understood and barely withheld her sigh. She went over and lowered the tray while the guest took her time selecting the food. Thora's patience was strained by her growing irritation.
The guest dipped a piece of flatbread in the oil and chomped down on it. "When does Euclid return home from the barracks?"
Halcyon finished sipping her sweet wine then lowered the skyphos onto the kline's soft linen. "Not for another month, Selene." Her fingers tangled in one of the skyphos's handles.
Selene chuckled and dipped her bread again. "Pity for him," she said, casually.
Halcyon grinned, not at the joke, but at the desire in Selene's eyes.
Selene took a few pieces of feta, and then she waved at Thora to leave her.
Thora crossed over to Halcyon and lowered the tray.
After eating a piece of feta, Halcyon freed a vine of grapes from the bowl. She peered up at Thora and pointed to the low table that was between her and Selene.
Bowing her head, Thora moved to the table to put down the board, then joined Cesare, who stood by the door with a beautiful clay oinochoe in his hands.
Selene considered the strange slave. "The barbar seems to have improved." Her insult about Thora's status as a barbarian was not lost on any.
"The stables appear to have helped her disposition."
Selene heartily laughed at Halcyon. "Your training is always effective." There was dark amusement in her eyes.
"I have been well taught," Halcyon said. She thought of her father, who was once an Athenaeum. He had moved his daughter, his ailing wife, and his fortunes to Sparta. In his late life, he taught Halcyon how to train slaves.
"Yes," Selene said. "Only the champion of the Heraea Games could do such."
Halcyon's eyes slotted at the mention of the games. She crossed her legs, which caused the slit in her chiton to reveal muscular calves. "The Heraea Games were child's play."
Selene softly laughed and said, "Perhaps to you, but many women struggle in those games."
"We fare well in those games."
"Maybe one day, you will find yourself in Olympia." Selene's grin was wide.
Halcyon remained neutral although s
he inwardly seethed at the mention of the games. In less than a month, the city of Sparta would send their most celebrated competitors to the seventy-fifth games in Olympia. However, Halcyon would be forbidden to enter the Olympics simply due to her gender. Not even her fame as the Iron Edge was enough to change the games' rules. Yet it was public knowledge that Halcyon sent her finest horses to the chariot games in Olympia and profited from the wins.
After a heavy sigh, Halcyon said, "Not even upon the death of Zeus would they allow women to compete."
Selene wagged an index finger. "Never doubt your fate."
Halcyon dismissed Selene's opinion.
Selene sobered after a curious thought. "When do you return to the barrack?"
"A little more than a fortnight," Halcyon replied. She was grateful it was on the very same day that the games started in Olympia. She needed the distraction.
"King Leonidas speaks highly of you." Selene dreamily pictured Halcyon in her bronze armor. She lost her smile and asked, "Have you been successful in seeking out a translator?"
Halcyon sipped her wine first. "I have found one who may assist me. He is due to arrive from Athens any day now."
Selene considered this further. "It seems an awful waste of coin to hire him just so he can teach your helot to speak our native tongue." She had learned that Halcyon had coin stored away from her father's inheritance. Such wealth in Sparta was rare.
Halcyon tilted her head at Selene. "Indeed." She set down her wine and plucked several grapes from the food board. "I am curious to learn her history." She had kept Thora's purchase private and allowed Selene to assume Thora was owned by the polis.
"She is a helot," Selene said, almost bitterly. "What matters is that she is skilled enough to cook decently."
Halcyon remained silent and waved Cesare over for a wine refill. After he approached, she held out a hand to the food. "Eat, Selene. Do not let my feta go waste."
Selene obliged and took a handful of the feta cubes. She curled back up on the kline.
Halcyon smiled and asked, "Can you stay tonight, Selene?"
Selene revealed a wicked grin at the invitation. "Of course." She enjoyed the glint in Halcyon's green eyes. It rekindled the heat low in her belly and the wetness between her legs.
Halcyon turned to the slaves. "Cesare, see that Thora begins preparing our meal."
"Yes, ěra." Cesare bowed, grabbed Thora's wrist, and left with her. In the kitchen, he assisted Thora with making the meal.
Later, Thora returned to the gynaikeion and served Selene and then Halcyon. She placed the empty tray by the wooden board that was nearly barren. She went near the door, turned, and pressed her back against the wall.
Tonight was only the second time that Thora helped Cesare serve Halcyon and Selene together. Over the month, Thora had seen and heard Selene from a distance. She was not impressed by Selene. However, Thora tried to remain neutral toward Selene, who was important to Halcyon.
Thora openly observed the pair while they were immersed in their dinner and chatter. She first watched Halcyon, who was much more dignified in her dining form. Over the years, Thora had actually picked up a few techniques of proper Greek dining etiquette by studying her owners. Then there was Selene, whom Thora had secretly nicknamed Linnr in her own tongue. Like the linnr in her homelands, Selene was a monster that slithered and hissed often at her.
Thora had grown to dislike Linnr. Mutually, Selene held no respect for Thora, a slave and a barbarian. Selene questioned why Halcyon had chosen the slave when there were more capable helots available from the polis. At least the beastly slave was Halcyon's problem, Selene thought.
With a careful eye, Thora assessed Selene, who was short compared to Thora. Selene's eyes were a dark brown and were nearly lost by her mammoth nose. Her hair was a classic mousy color with tight wavy locks. She often wore her hair up in a bun with a few curly strands falling about her shoulders and nape. Typically, Selene wore the same white chiton, but Thora imagined she owned more than one set. Selene was close to Thora's age, unmarried, and seeking a husband.
The traditions were different in Sparta than in Athens. The Athenian women married in their fifteenth year. The Spartan women wed closer to eighteen or even as late as twenty-two. Thora recalled being married shortly after her sixteenth birthday. She pushed away her old memories of home and her husband after Halcyon called her. She hastened and collected the empty plates.
"What a daydreamer," Selene said accusingly. "I cannot imagine what her barbaric mind is thinking up." She stared coldly up at Thora when she came to collect the empty plate from the table.
Sensing Selene's judgmental stare, Thora ignored it while collecting the dirty plates. Once gone from the room, she released a sigh and went to the kitchen to rid of the dishes in the wash tub. In a hurry, the strange but sweet dessert was organized, and Thora left with it and a full oinochoe.
When Thora returned to the suite, she placed the cut gastrin dessert onto the table and filled both the freewomen's skyphoi. Eventually, she returned to her quiet spot by the door and watched the women dine. The food's smells were making her stomach gently rumble, but memories from her homelands helped divert her attention.
"Thora!"
Thora jumped from Halcyon's shout and hastened to fill her and Selene's empty skyphoi.
"Perhaps she requires another punishment to get her out of her daydreams." Selene's gaze went cold as it lifted to Thora.
Curbing her annoyance, Thora finished pouring and grabbed the dessert plate before leaving the suite.
The freewomen continued talking, and the wine soaked through their resolve. At some point, while Thora was gone, Halcyon had moved to the kline beside her upright guest.
Thora entered the room with her refilled oinochoe. Cesare joined her but on the other side of the doorway.
Selene laughed at something, set her skyphos on the table, and placed her left hand on Halcyon's knee. "I cannot imagine."
Halcyon moved her skyphos away from her lips and revealed a grin. "Hopefully, I will never upstage my husband, though, in such a manner." She had already outranked her husband as a hippeus, an elite guard to the king, while Euclid continued as a low-ranking hoplite in the army.
Selene rolled her eyes. "How the people would talk. A husband's wife bested him in fair combat."
"I am not sure it would boast well in the barracks."
Selene shook her head. "I hear the men talk about you… the tales about the Iron Edge. They say the kings, especially King Leonidas, are fascinated by you." She leaned into the older woman. "I cannot blame them."
"Seleeene," Halcyon drew out. She set her skyphos down beside the other one. "This will not be going on for much longer."
Selene frowned, but it changed into a grin. "Yes, soon I will be the wife seeking the affections of a young maiden." She chuckled at her lover's seductive smile.
"I pray yours is as fine as mine has been," Halcyon said huskily. She leaned down to Selene.
Selene touched Halcyon's left cheek, then her lips met the soft ones above hers. Her eyes closed, and she enjoyed the long kiss.
Thora lowered her head when she saw the women kiss, but an excited heat started on her face, and she chided herself for it. Rarely did women show such affection in Thora's homelands compared to Spartan traditions.
Cesare was hardly embarrassed by Halcyon's romance with Selene. He was born and raised in the Greek culture. He was Greek himself, even if he was sold into slavery by his father.
Selene smiled at the end of the sensuous kiss and picked up her skyphos. "Thora?" She smirked at Thora's bowed head.
Thora neared Selene and tilted the clay oinochoe over Linnr's skyphos.
Halcyon openly assessed Thora, appreciating Thora's rare beauty. Selene caught Halcyon's interest in the beautiful slave, which turned her stomach. She suddenly leaned in for another warm kiss.
Thora clenched her teeth at the purposeful kiss. With a spark of defiance, she moved the tipped oinochoe forward
until the red wine spilled all over a white lap.
Selene jerked out of the kiss and yelled, "By the gods!" The chilled liquid soaked through her lap. She stood up with the overflowing skyphos splashing over her chest.
Thora stepped back with a satisfied smirk.
Halcyon jumped to her feet. After a glance at Selene, she narrowed her eyes at Thora. Halcyon's features hardened, and she turned to Cesare. "Get some rags!"
Cesare had neared the group earlier, but he rushed out to handle the request.
Halcyon stepped around her cursing guest and approached Thora. She was shorter than Thora, yet her muscular build and raised anger made her powerful.
Selene turned her ire on Thora. "She purposely did that." She started coming after Thora.
Halcyon halted Selene. "She is my slave. Now sit."
Selene froze and saw the fire behind those green eyes. She sank down on the kline and waited for Cesare.
Halcyon centered her fury on Thora, who held her ground. Thora's blue eyes stormed with defiance.
There was no warning as a sickening smack echoed in the room. Thora went down from the sheer power in the slap. The clay oinochoe broke, and wine washed over the floor. Thora blinked back the natural sting in her eyes. She sharply inhaled the sweet scent of the wine, which reminded her why she was struck in the first place.
Halcyon bared her teeth at her fallen slave. She observed Thora touching her red cheek. Her eyes flickered to the clay pieces and the red wine over the floor. When Thora met her gaze, Halcyon saw the passionate fire in Thora that reminded her of herself as a hoplite. She turned to Cesare, who was shocked by her rare punitive demonstration. "Clean up the mess, Cesare, and remove her."
"Yes, ěra." Cesare refocused, went around the kline, and came to Thora's side. It was rare that Halcyon ever harmed her slaves and preferred punishment over violence. He sympathized with Thora but suspected additional punishment would follow tomorrow, if not tonight. He cleaned the mess with his rags and helped Thora to her feet, hastening her out of the room before anything else happened.
Selene was stiff from the dampness. She looked as if she had been attacked and had bled on her chiton.
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