Truth and Sparta

by Camille Oster

  She just needed to find a way to put her plan in action. Her parents had no links with Athens or Attica, but she remembered it mentioned that Panos had a second cousin that married an Athenian. She would have to seek him out. He might dismiss her idea as crazy, but he wouldn’t turn her in for asking. She couldn’t do it now, she was exhausted and Panos was likely out in the fields. She would have to do it in the evening, but first she needed to rest as walking to the village had taken more energy than she’d thought. Returning home was not an option, so she decided to ask Della if she could sleep in her cottage for a while before seeking out Panos. Maybe for the first time she would sleep without dreaming that a dangerous animal was stalking her baby. Hope sat like a shining jewel in her chest—a treasure more than any ruby that could be found. A secondary benefit was that they might have something to do if Doros’ activities draw the ire of the Spartans their way.

  Chapter 10

  Chara had a plan, but it still seemed completely unrealistic and unattainable. She was not the first woman to try to hide a child from the Spartans and it seldom worked. They took note of babies turning up in nearby villages so she had a place where her baby would be out of their reach. She would be putting her family in real danger doing this, but she had to try. She had searched every part of her plan, trying to find faults in it.

  She wanted to speak to Doros, but he wasn’t interesting in listening to her and she wasn’t sure he could ever see past how the baby came to be. She also wasn’t entirely sure if he was interested in helping her—his anger seemed to consume him. The only person she could talk to about this was her mother.

  Chara waited until her mother returned home to start preparing their evening meal.

  “Panos has a cousin in Athens,” she said not knowing how to start such a conversation. She decided to just come out with it. “If we hide this baby in Athens, it will be out of the reach of the Spartans.”

  “They will take their vengeance out of us,” her mother said with sadness.

  “Not if they don’t know.”

  “They are not stupid, my girl. They will know what’s happened the moment you are not there when they come for the child.”

  “But what if I am there when they come? If I am here going about my business, and the child doesn’t turn up, they will lose interest.”

  “They will notice the moment the child returns.”

  Chara considered her mother. She wasn’t entirely sure her mother would accept her plan, but she needed help from her family if she were to have any success in pulling this off.

  “I met a Messenian, he-“

  “You cannot trust Messenians, they are only interested in winning this war at any cost and they don’t care about us,” her mother cut her off.

  “I know, but he said the Athenians needed people in Attica to work the land. They suffered greatly at the hands of the Spartans and with the plague. They need people desperately.”

  “You would live in Attica?” her mother asked looking up from stew she was stirring.

  “I would live anywhere if I could be with my child.”

  “But what interested would they have in you and a child in Attica?”

  “They would if I took Doros with me.” Chara watched as her mother returned her attention to the stew, considering her words.

  “Doros absence would be noticed immediately,” her mother said. “They would kill you for lying to them.”

  “But your absence might not be noticed,” Chara said carefully. The Spartans rarely cared about older women, dismissing them as inconsequential. It had its benefits at time and it generally made her mother safer when the Spartans sought to implement their policies.

  “But what if it is?”

  “Then we suffer. I know it is fraught with risk, but I must save this baby.” Chara watched her mother’s eyes soften. “Then maybe Doros could have a future he can tolerate as well.” If she did this right, she could perhaps avoid Doros all the trouble he was inviting to himself and to them as well. “We could all go.”

  “We cannot go, we are too old to leave. Everything we know is here.”

  “We could have a new life in Attica, a new farm—with freedom.”

  “I think Doros’ madness has spread to you.”

  “I will not let them kill this child,” Chara stated.

  “So you think I should take the child to Athens?” her mother said. “It is a highly risky journey for a new born.”

  “What choice do I have?”

  “You are right,” her mother sighed, “but it may be the end of us all attempting such a foolhardy plan. Your father will never approve.”

  Chara felt her heart sink. Her plan looked like it was falling apart around her, placing her back in the situation where she would either have to let her baby suffer, or her family. If she could take all the suffering in their stead, she would in a heartbeat, but the world never gave such options.

  “I will take the baby,” her mother said after a while. Chara thought she’d heard wrong at first, then pulled her mother into a hugged made awkward by her large belly.

  “How do we tell father?” Chara asked pushing down the tears she felt well up with her mother’s support and understanding.

  “I think it is best that we tell him after it’s done.” Chara had never seen her mother defy her father before. Chara knew her mother had strength, she’d seen glimpses of it from time to time, but she had never seen it assert itself like this. “It shouldn’t be impossible to get to Megara, but to get to Athens might be more difficult. If all else fails, I can walk.” Chara felt terrible about the task she had just put on her mother, but equally she knew it was her only chance to save this baby.

  In truth, Chara knew very little about Attica. She knew it was the fertile area that served Athens. She didn’t know if there would be much opportunity for her there, particularly as a husbandless woman with a child. She would be much more attractive if Doros came with her—young men would be highly desired. She would have to convince him somehow. She would have to wait to broach the subject with him as he would likely blow up and ruin the plan, and she was not ready to risk her baby on his reaction. His reaction—whatever it were to be—could happen when the baby was away and safe. She would then convince him to join her when she was ready to leave and join the baby. Perhaps she would end up saving him from the destructive path he was headed down.

  The baby came on a cold spring day. The birthing started early in the morning, but the pains were so faint that Chara didn’t realize at first that the baby was ready.

  “It’s ready to come. The baby has moved down. I will get Thala,” her mother said. Chara swallowed her nervousness as her mother left, but she’d been reassured her that they would be back well in time and that there was no cause for worry. Chara had no choice but to trust her word.

  In fact, nothing happened while her mother was gone. She arrived back with Thala, who helped with birthings in the area. Chara couldn’t believe it was time; it seemed like such a surreal thing. Excitement and nervousness occupied her for the birth to come, but also because they needed to initiate their plan after this and it was scary, as was everything that was happening at the moment. The likelihood of something going wrong was high. Women died in childbirth and so did the baby. Chara knew that today could be her last day on this earth—only the gods knew her fate.

  The pain grew to the point where Chara didn’t think she could bear it anymore; it seemed to go on endlessly and Thala kept saying it wasn’t time yet. Chara was starting to wonder if it would ever end.

  It was dark by the time the baby came. Chara ignored her exhaustion and stared into the small face of her daughter. Happiness suffused every part of her as she held the little bundle that had been placed at her breast. It was a girl and she was beautiful. Her tiny little mouth mewled slightly as she adjusted to her introduction to the world. She had the smallest little fingers Chara had ever seen. Chara named her Elphia, which meant hope, because that is what she represented and
that is what she gave. They would need the support of the gods to help them through this endeavor and this little girl in her arms what the purpose for all Chara did. This child had given her a course in life and she now had someone to live for.

  Elphia fed and then they both slept, exhaustion claiming them both after a very difficult day. Chara slept dreamlessly, which might have been just as well because worry was starting to infringe on every part of her.

  Chara woke up some time later. It was night time, but someone had left a lamp burning for them. Elphia started to cry with hunger, sounding weak as a little kitten. Chara fed her and she couldn’t stop staring at the lovely little creature in her arms. She had blond hair that felt like as fine as a bird’s feathers and large eyes. It was too dark to see the color of her eyes, but it didn’t matter, Chara loved them anyway. She could see resonance of Nicias’ brow on the tiny girl, but she didn’t want thoughts of him to intrude on this time, so she dismissed any more such thoughts.

  They would have to part tomorrow. It felt like an impossible task, but one she had to endure. Her worry for the child only grew; she worried that her mother wouldn’t find enough to feed her along the way. Children could survive on goats’ milk, but not all thrived. She hoped the little girl was strong—she would need to be. She was to have a tumultuous start to her life, but it could not be avoided.

  Chara fed the girl through the night as the little girl would need as much strength as Chara could give. The morning and their time to part came all too quickly. Chara’s mother came into the small room that Chara was nursing in.

  “We must go soon,” she confirmed.

  “I’m not sure I can part with her,” Chara said honestly, knowing she didn’t have any choice.

  “I know this is hard, but it must be done.” Chara nodded, she knew it was true, but it just felt so incredibly wrong to part from her child. “We must be gone before the Spartan comes,” her mother continued. “I have told your father of our plan. He is not happy, but he will not stand in the way—he knows he would live the rest of his life without forgiveness if he does. We must hurry now.”

  Chara’s body protested as she moved to rise from the bed, she was sore and her heart was aching, but she forced herself up and to get ready for their departure. She prepared as much milk as she could into a bladder.

  “There will be women along the way who will help,” her mother tried to assure her. Chara knew that women were often willing to assist orphaned babies and Chara prayed to the gods that women were in charitable moods along this journey. She suppressed every tear in front of her mother, but her worry was great. Her mother tried to comfort her and fear kept her wits together.

  “It will be all right, you will see,” her mother said stroking her back. “You will come when you can and you will be together again in safety.” Chara absorbed the words of encouragement and hoped she was right. At the moment, their plans seemed absolutely crazy, but Chara’s mother stood by it even when Chara felt her resolve crumble. “This must be done,” her mother reiterated and Chara tried to bolster her own strength.

  Chara walked with the baby and her mother until they reached one of the main roads, where carts were traveling throughout the Spartan territory. It took them an hour to get there and Chara’s body protested every step. A cart stopped for them, agreeing to let them ride north. Chara hugged them both tightly and then watched as the cart started to carry them away. She couldn’t hold back the tears that had been threatening all morning.

  “This must be done,” she repeated her mother’s words over and over on the walk back to the cottage. This wasn’t technically an unhappy event; they were a future together—a happy and healthy future, maybe even a prosperous one if the gods were kind. Chara knew this would be the most difficult part of the plan, but it was absolutely essential. If she didn’t stay behind, the rest of her family would suffer. A bittersweet sorrow now would have great rewards and the thought reassured her. There were so many things that could go wrong, but she would visit the shrine every day to pray for assistance.

  Chapter 11

  Nicias accepted his orders—he was being redeployed. He’d had to stand by and watch as the Athenians took the prisoners from Pylos. They had a truce that had allowed them to take food across the island to the prisoners and they had done so every day. The prisoners had asked for instruction from the Assembly and had been given none, which lead to their eventual surrender. The blow had been hard to their deflated morale, as well as to their faith in the strength of Sparta and the elders who made decisions for them. The elders had proved that they had no answers and now they stood here watching while their countrymen were being taken away on ships. The Spartan navy lay decimated and could do nothing to stop it. There was no way to describe the situation other than bleak.

  Nicias, along with the others, started the trek to the eastern coast, where the Athenians were making themselves into a nuisance. There were soldiers who wanted to march on Athens, to take the losses of the prisoners and to make the Athenians pay in blood for this—ransack the whole city and kill the men, fuck the women and then sell any survivors into slavery. All of Greece would rejoice if Athens was burnt to the ground.

  Spartans had never surrendered and the unconscionable had just happened. Winter refused to relent its grip on the land, compounding their misery—the warm summer days seemed far away. He suspected the summer coming would not be easy either as defeat has placed them in a poor position and the Athenians would likely press their advantage. It wouldn’t seem so bad if the Assembly didn’t seem divided and hamstrung, and unable to make a coherent decision.

  Long days of marching stretched before them promising nothing but drudgery. If they were rested and refreshed, it was an easy march with high spirited camaraderie to keep them entertained, but high spirits had been absent for a long time.

  He wished he was going home to his father’s house. He wanted to spend some time with his girl, buried in her warm, tight flesh—forgetting all these troubles. But he had no excuse to divert and they were needed on the coast now that the Athenians had cut their supply lines with Alexandria, which would hurt them. The men were itching for a fight. They wanted someone to bear the brunt of their frustration—preferably some Athenian soldiers, but Nicias was not sure they would be allowed to engage now that Athens had prisoners.

  They were exhausted when they got back to their barracks. One of his father’s slaves was waiting for him when he arrived. A waiting slave never proved good news.

  “You father sends a message that you must come,” the thin man said at the door of the barracks.

  “Why?” Nicias demanded with annoyance.

  “Your father wishes to inform you that there have been some consequences with a Helot girl that you must deal with,” the man said with a bow. Nicias knew full well that the euphemism stood for—the girl had fallen with child. Nicias growled with dismay and frustration, and the Helot cowered in fear. “Go,” he told the man before he actually did take his frustrations out on him.

  He knew that it was a risk when he took up with the girl—being neither unusual, nor uncommon. Such associations were actually encouraged by the elders, the army needed men and it was a good way of securing the future soldiers Sparta desperately needed. Citizens would be better, but the half castes were accepted in their stead. Taking the child off the mothers wasn’t a pleasant task, but it was vital lest they form attachment to the weak Helot side of their nature. Good soldiers had to be raised with the knowledge that the state was of supreme importance. Nicias hoped the child was not female as it would be an even more unpleasant task. But it was his duty and he must take care of it—shirking it would mean dire consequences. The Assembly would look very negatively of such things as it was seen as detrimental to the state and hence traitorous—men had been exiled for it.

  Nicias began the ride home after informing his superiors that he had to take an absence to sort out a pressing matter at home. He was given four days to do so. It didn’t give him
much time, so he had to hurry. He’d saddled one of the horses and departed at once.

  He arrived home in the morning, the land quiet and peaceful as he rode through the village shortly after dusk. Spring seems to have found the valley, with growth having started after the long winter. Nothing had changed here—it never did.

  He joined his father in the courtyard as he sat in the sun warming. Nicias didn’t need any heat, the ride this morning after a brief sleep along the way had warmed him sufficiently. His sluggish movements told him he could use a few more hours sleep though, but he wanted to take care of the unpleasant business before he had to spend too much time thinking about it. This was the exact reason he had not readily engaged with Helot girls before. Whores were fine, you spent the night and then left, and there were never consequences to be dealt with. But as he got older, the nameless, faceless whores were not enough; he’d wanted more and this was the consequences for having that.

  There was a chance the child wasn’t his, but he knew instinctively that it was. He’d made his claim on her known and anyone who touched her would be insulting him directly. He also felt that she was not the kind of girl who would be giving her favors away to others.

  “Have you seen the child?” he asked his father.

  “No.”

  “What must I do?” he asked. He wasn’t entirely sure how to go about this. He knew the children were taken to Sparta and the state cared for them from there.

  “Sinon will deliver the child,” the older man said indicating to the waiting servant and Nicias nodded. He departed the house, ordering a fresh horse from the stable. He hoped the girl would not fight him; he hoped she understood the necessity of this.