Blood of an Empire: Helen of Sparta

by catt dahman

  Aethra pointed to a roll on the floor on my chambers, long and curious-looking, and then she retreated to the shadows. I fell several times as I left the bed, bruising my knees. I finally crawled to the roll, wondering what it might be.

  Up close, it smelled wonderful, spicy and delicious, like cinnamon, but with a touch of bitterness. Raking my hands over the sheet, I unwound it to reveal a young man who was drugged asleep with poppy. He smelled clean.

  I crawled closer and sniffed at his throat. He smelled wonderful. As I slid my fangs into his skin, I thought of cloves, sesame, dark wine, and old hay, but the flavor was still exquisite, and I gulped and nipped, almost growling with satisfaction.

  The man whined in his sleep, raised his hands a little to bat at me, and lay there, defeated.

  Does one pause during love making, at the pentacle of ecstasy, and think of dinner plans? Does one leap from a cliff and muse over the gardens? No, and I didn’t stop to consider the morals of what I was doing but fed, licking at the crimson flow, sucking at the liquid languidly, and filling my throat with dark wine.

  In a bit, I was full, and had someone approached me, I might have once again been a glutton and ripped his throat open for more of the ambrosia, unable to control myself.

  I was dangerous at this point. Aethra must have understood, for she came no closer than the shadows and was simply waiting and learning until I had crawled back into my bed after washing myself with a cloth and water from a pitcher on the table.

  I fell deeply asleep and didn’t toss, turn, or dream.

  And the next night, Theseus had a surprise for me. We dressed in plain clothing and covered our faces and hair with masks and hoods so that we were unrecognizable. Deep within a temple to Dionysus, we roamed through rooms and doorways until I was dizzy and lost.

  “You have no idea what this adventure cost me, so please enjoy yourself, and make it worth what I paid,” Theseus laughed as he whispered this to me.

  Couches lined the immense room, and we sat together on one. While we were dressed in plain dark clothing, most of the others were in bright red; the men were in red and brown.

  In a few minutes, smoke began to fill the room, and the scent wasn’t unpleasant, but was strange, bitter, and forest-like.

  Cups of wine were passed about, and I had never seen so much red wine. Some of it was sweet and cloying, some was sharp and sour, and some was light as air and fresh. We drank some from each kind of wine, as did everyone else.

  Theseus cautioned me about drinking too much. I relaxed and enjoyed when the women, obviously loose and intoxicated, danced in circles, waving their arms and hopping about. A drum and flute were all that accompanied the dance.

  As the smoke grew thicker and the wine flowed faster, the dancing became wilder and more alluring. First one and then several more women yanked away their clothing and tossed all to the side. Not embarrassed, they kissed and caressed one another as they danced.

  “Theseus….” I began, but he whispered to watch.

  The men in red shed their clothing as well, and right before us, the men and women coupled, sometimes in trios and once with four sharing delights of the flesh. I had never dreamed there could be so many positions for lovemaking, but these people shared them all. Women coupled with women, and men even lay with other men.

  I would have guessed this would be the end since all of them would be satisfied, but I was wrong. The passion rose and the coupling became more brutal and forceful, and at times, it was more like brutal rape than anything else, but no one left; they all continued.

  The wine bottles overflowed, while the naked men and women drank and indulged more and more, holding out their hands to those men dressed in brown and encouraging them to join in. Aroused, the men shed their brown peplos and let the men and women lead them into the complex orgy. All around was the sound of groaning and squeals; it made me feel tired and disgusted.

  Then, there was a sudden scream. One of the men tossed his head and drunkenly pushed his partner away, but the man who was holding him, tilted his head back to laugh as blood splattered everywhere. The man’s neck was bitten. A woman scampered over and clasped her mouth to the wound and drank deeply.

  Elsewhere, two women took turns lapping at the vein on a man’s pelvis as he moaned and thrashed; a man was sucking at his neck. A very pretty woman, hair like corn silk, stared into my eyes and bit into the wrist of the man she was with. Her pink tongue flickered at the blood wound, and she smiled seductively.

  I was confused by the smoke and shocked at the scene playing out, but I couldn’t stop myself from rising off the couch and leaning towards the woman with the pale hair.

  Theseus stroked my thigh, making me desire him, but I desired the blood much more. I walked over and then went to my hands and knees to crawl towards the woman who lapped at the blood; she was teasing me, not drinking her fill, but only tasting and playing.

  Very gently, so as not to frighten me, the girl leaned over to me and kissed my lips, allowing the blood to join us. I eagerly licked her mouth clean and waited. She raised the man’s arm, and he drunkenly giggled, making her smile.

  “I am Tara. Drink, beautiful one.”

  I felt almost insane with need and could not define what it was I so desperately wanted; there were sexual pleasures, wine, the incense, the blood, dancing, and so much abandonment that my head spun delightfully. Pacing myself, I licked at the wound and bit so it was more open and flowing beautifully, but I held back politely.

  “Don’t hold back.” Tara pointed to the statue of Dionysus, his member erect and huge and his back draped by a leopard skin someone had placed there. “He is wine and music, and he connects us to the dead with blood. He is the liberator.”

  “I….”

  “Let go. Let him enter your veins.”

  I drank of the man’s blood and felt the wine take effect, as I felt stronger and lovelier than before.

  Tara whispered that I was beautiful, and she undressed me lovingly. I crouched over a man, drinking of his blood, naked, and yet, in my mind’s eye I saw a huntress, a powerful beast full of hunger and raw sexuality.

  Theseus, unable to contain his own lust another second, grabbed me, and took me as I drank the blood-wine. I grew so drunk on the sex, the wine, and incense that I hardly recalled how many ways we made love and how often Tara was part of our coupling, but it was for a very long time.

  When we awakened, the rest had crept to couches to sleep, and we had to pull ourselves loose from the sticky fluids that glued us to the marble floor.

  Everywhere I looked were pools of drying blood and spilled wine, discarded clothing, and sleeping bodies. The festival was over except for wine-induced headaches and a few dead bodies to dispatch of.

  I dressed alongside Theseus, and we didn’t speak of what we had joined, but I knew it had cost him a great deal of gold to be included, and it was his way of embracing my true nature. It was a gift I treasured.

  We want to be accepted for who we are.

  Chapter 9

  An Unwanted Rescue

  Thus months passed in which my captors, ne friends, brought my repast to me each month, and during the rest of the time, I was able to swim, ride horse back, go for long walks, and make love with Theseus. We attended the festival of Dionysus three more times during that time, and no other man touched me but my beloved.

  One day, my happiness was destroyed.

  We heard noise, men’s voices and nervous activity. Theseus said, “The Dioscuri is here with a regiment of soldiers, and they have brought the gold as arranged. However, they are angry and demanding, and they have Menestheus with them to challenge my rights to the throne.”

  The Dioscuri was my brothers Castor and Pollux, two of the fiercest warriors when angered.

  This I could fix, so I asked to speak to them. Wearing a white peplos with no jewelry and my hair brushed back in a twist, I hugged each brother, genuinely glad to see my beloved brothers. I showed them how healthy and well treated
I was. I was more guest than captive, and there was no need to be angry or fight. Castor clasped me closely, telling me how well I looked and how happy he was to see me. Pollux smothered me with kisses on my cheeks and said he had missed me.

  “We’ve come to rescue you.”

  “I don’t need rescuing. I have been treated with honor and respect, and Theseus’ own mother is my nurse and chaperone. Theseus has shown me nothing but respect and honor.”

  “We have the gold.”

  “I am aware of the bargain father made. Leave the gold, be about your business, and take your soldiers with you.”

  “We are here, and we will not be turned away.” Pollux was angry and serious. He would not be swayed. “Helen, you speak foolishly. It is about your honor. You will be leaving with us.”

  “It is done, Helen,” Castor said. He wouldn’t give, either. “This is not the political advantage we had hoped for when there is another laying claim to the throne. Menestheus claims the throne.”

  “Side with Theseus, and send the pretender away,” I grumbled, tired of politics.

  “It’s too late.”

  Theseus held me in his arms. He had already made provisions for his mother and me to be safely whisked away to safety as soon as he knew my brothers were there with Menestheus.

  He would deal with my brothers and the situation in whatever way he thought best. I didn’t like this, but what could I do? We kissed desperately and finally parted, and I left the palace secretly with Aethra.

  I felt sure this wouldn’t end well for anyone.

  Instead of hours of arguing, they debated and then fought for days. Then weeks.

  For months, we waited, and I cried uncontrollably; I felt I would never see my beloved again. I didn’t even notice the first month when I missed my courses.

  The second time I missed them, I thought I had cried too much and eaten too little and dismissed it, glad not have to go hunting when I was so miserable. Every morning I vomited and was so sleepy all the time. The third month I missed my courses, Aethra told me what I already knew: I was with child: Theseus’ child.

  I rejoiced to have the babe in my womb, but if anyone knew, it would go badly for the father, for me, and assuredly for the child. An heir to Theseus’ throne would not be allowed to live, especially in my father’s kingdom and certainly not in Theseus’ kingdom that was in shambles and being questioned. I shuddered to think what the opposing force might do with Theseus’ heir.

  Even now, my father Tyndareus claimed I had not been touched and suitors could sue for my hand; a virginal Helen would marry well, but a Helen with a snotty nosed child in tow would be a burden. In fact, because it was the child of Theseus, things would go even worse for me.

  About this time, my brothers came for me and told me they had left Theseus and Menestheus to fight for the throne. At least my true love was alive. Their job was done now that they had left Theseus to fight for his throne and that his kingdom was in an uproar. Sadly, I had no choice but to return home, but I demanded to have Aethra go with me.

  Soon, we were in Sparta, and I felt I had been jerked from a wonderful dream and thrown into a terrible place. My father was not pleased that I had begged to stay, and we quarreled often. When he accused me of being unusually moody and difficult, Aethra saved me, for had he guessed I was pregnant, he would have killed Theseus and my child for sure.

  “Why are you brooding, Helen? Stop this moodiness,” he demanded, “the Athenian life has spoiled you.”

  “I resent that you were in any way part in my kidnapping.”

  “It’s politics. What do you know of that? Had there not been a fight over the throne, I may have married you to Theseus. But Menestheus says the throne is his. Why would I align myself with a king who may be tossed from his kingdom? If Menestheus wins the throne, I may marry you to him.”

  I was livid. “Menestheus? No, I will not marry him.”

  My father was equally as angry. “Who are you to argue with me? What daughter argues her marriage this way?” He yanked at his hair in fury and stomped about the room. “In all the lands, I have the most disagreeable daughter? Spoiled child.”

  “I am angry at being kidnapped and taken away and then grabbed from there and brought back. None of that is respectable for me. If I were kidnapped, then it would be as a wife. Why was I not married to Theseus?”

  Tyndareus glared. “You would have been, had he claimed you, or had we decided it. He didn’t claim you.”

  “Because he wanted your agreement. You wouldn’t agree because you were awaiting the outcome of the battle between him and Menestheus. You were awaiting the victor. How is that honorable?”

  “Honor? Oh, Helen, honor is but a word and ideal. It isn’t anything a man can live up to. How can any man put truth and goodness above his own nature? There is no such thing as honor.”

  I sank to a bench, crying.

  “A father sires sons for heirs and battle, to carry on his name. He sires daughters to expand kingdoms and cull favors. Theseus could have been the one, but he wasn’t; Helen, you are a prize to be won. Men want to marry you, not only to be in an alliance with me, but also because of your beauty. You are a desirable wife in that you will make a fair wife and produce beautiful heirs.”

  His words broke my heart.

  I am sure my father meant this complimentary, but I could only hear that I was meant to be a brood mare and not prized for anything but breeding heirs for other kingdoms and warriors who might die in wars. I couldn’t have been more depressed.

  “Why are you wailing like a child, Helen?”

  Aethra came to my rescue and told him that I had a silly girl’s crush on Theseus who had simply been about a political and business deal and who had no eye for such a silly child. But she said I was at the age when being love struck could cause problems and make me physically ill and emotionally wrought.

  My father listened, interested in this. Aethra said many girls who had a first, unrequited love refused food and literally mourned themselves to death for something that wasn’t real. She feared I was badly infatuated and making myself ill.

  “What shall we do?” my father asked.

  Let me be with Theseus, I thought but stayed silent.

  “Give me time with her. Let me lock us away in our rooms, and I will slowly pull her out of this melancholy; I think I can do it safely if I have enough time, a half-year or more. When I am done, she will be the child you knew before. She just needs time to come to herself and be told how things work in this world, to clear herself of childish notions.”

  “Go; do whatever you must.”

  Father looked at me with sadness in his eyes, but I felt nothing.

  Behind locked doors, Aethra told me, “We will bring this babe into the world and think of something to do about it, but together we can do this. This is my son’s child, and I will do anything to bring it here safely.”

  Chapter 10

  Being with Child

  At Sparta, Helen kept her pregnancy a secret although Dareus had to suspect something. He didn’t see Helen, and by not knowing the truth, he could pretend it wasn’t so, but she stayed in her area, secluded. Had her brothers found out, they would have hunted down Theseus, and either they or he would have died.

  Aethra made sure Helen ate the best foods, exercised diligently so her figure would quickly return after the birth of her baby, and slept as much as possible. They still had no plan as to how to hide the baby, but she thought about finding a girl from the village to conceal the child; silence was hard to keep.

  Right before labor began, Clytemnestra came to Sparta for a visit. Helen was thrilled to see her sister and eager for news since she had not heard of things that went on outside her chambers for months. When Helen saw her sister, Helen gasped aloud.

  Clytemnestra had left Sparta as a rosy, plump, beautiful woman, madly in love with her groom and eager to begin her new life, but this person before Helen was almost unrecognizable. Clytemnestra’s hair was stringy an
d patchy about her pale face, her skin was dull and rough, and her figure was painfully thin. Her once soft brown eyes that glittered with gold were dark coals encircled with purple shadows. Periodically, the woman stopped to yank at her ugly, brownish dress and tear at her hair, moaning and stomping about when she wasn’t weeping.

  “What is it?” Helen asked.

  “Agamemnon.”

  Helen racked her brain and came up with a mental image of the man. He was gruff, enjoyed posturing, and was frequently a little loud, especially when drunk or encouraged by his peers. “What has he done?”

  “He broke into our palace, Helen, and he killed my love, my ­­­­­­­­Tantalus, right before my eyes. He murdered him. He has taken Pisa as his own,” Clytemnestra wailed. “My home and husband are lost.”

  Helen sent Aethra for tea, fruit, and cheese; her sister had to eat some food since she was so pale and weak. “Tell me of this.

  “Agamemnon has claimed the kingdom as his own, and I am now his wife. He’s a horrible man.” She took a breath and fairly screamed, “Helen, I had my newborn son, and Agamemnon took the child, tossed him against the stone wall, and then threw over the wall to the ground.””

  “Oh, Nessie….”

  “I fell to the ground, grieving for my husband and child and would have thrown myself into the sea had the cruel man not commanded me to live.”

  Helen wept with Clytemnestra. When the tea and food came, Helen enticed her sister to eat some of the fruits: pears, figs, and plums, and the cheese with yoghurt and bread.

  “I just took a tisane of blue cohosh root, wormwood, and mugwort.”

  Aethra almost dropped the tray of food.

  Clytemnestra wept. “It was horrible. The cramps were so bad I thought I would die, and they went on so long, but I was able to rid myself of Agamemnon’s child. The disgusting thing was expelled from my womb and tossed out with the other garbage.”

  “ Oh, sister,” Helen cried, “you’ve been through such misery.” She couldn’t imagine the pain of losing a newborn and then having to abort a child of rape.