Truth and Sparta

by Camille Oster

  Chara got a ride on a cart heading up to Megara, the town that tended to trade some of the Helot’s rare excess harvest for implements or furniture. Finding carts going there wasn’t difficult, but it was a slow and tedious ride, which Chara filled by worrying. She worried that the trip had been too arduous for her baby, or her mother. She worried that they’d met with misfortune or that they’d been turned away by Panos’ cousin.

  It took several days to reach Megara. They passed through the gates of the fortified township without much difficulty. The guards looked them over, inspected their goods and let them pass. It wasn’t unusual to see farmers with their goods entering the city. Megara was the largest town Chara had ever seen and she knew Athens would be even bigger. Thousands of people must be living there. Houses seemed to be stack on top of one another, built of stone and wood. The wealthier villas were white with plaster and decorated with all sorts of pictures. The roads were narrow and the houses almost seemed to loom on top of them.

  There were soldiers everywhere—not Spartans, but Megaran soldiers. Chara noticed that there appeared to be a general feeling of anticipation and fear in the city—the signs of militarisation were everywhere. There were also signs of poverty as well, including beggars asking for coin or food. Chara had neither to give as she only had enough for her journey. She felt awful turning away from them, but the people around her ignored their presence completely. Chara knew if things went badly for her, she could end up that way; although more likely, she would just be killed—it might be a preferable outcome. Knowing that her mother and baby could be faring that way urged her to seek a way to Athens as soon as possible.

  There were no carts going from Megara to Athens. There were ships going to other ports open to trading with Athens, but she didn’t have the means to fund it. The only option was to walk northwards. The guards at the northern gate eyed her suspiciously, but she hardly looked like a spy so they didn’t interfere as she passed.

  The long and desolate walk gave her no respite to her fear or worry. She came across few people as there was little activity of any kind between the warring states, but after days of walking the farms appeared a little closer together and activity increased. She secured a ride on the back of a cart and she was assured that she would see Athens by night fall. The farmer who offered her a ride couldn’t help with finding Panos’ cousin’s residence, but it shouldn’t prove impossible he had reassured her.

  It proved more difficult that she’d hoped, the city was unbelievably large and Panos only knew the general area of where his cousin lived. Chara had to ask around without much luck until she found someone who knew of the household. She caught a glimpse of the Parthenon between buildings as she walked and the sight made her hesitate; it was by far the most beautiful building she had ever seen, as well as being the largest. Its white marble seemed to glow in the sunlight—a building worthy of the gods, as well as a tribute to the victory over the Persians. Even though she had never been told any details of what it looked like, she still knew exactly what it was when she laid eyes on it.

  The streets of Athens were narrow and there were people wherever she turned. There were stores and markets, and slaves going about their business. She watched as the Athenian men existing in a seemingly slower state—they walked slower, they sat in groups, played games and discussed the affairs of the city. She could hear snippets for conversation as she passed; they talked of the war and of their leadership.

  These people hated the Spartans and everything they stood for. They were the polar opposite in ideology—both believing the future of Greece depended on their victory. And all else suffered as they struggled for control.

  Chara eventually reached Panos’ counsin’s house after a surly man pointed the building out. Chara’s heart started beating in her chest; her baby was near or else she would receive very distressing news. A young man answered the door, obviously a slave.

  “I am Chara and I am looking for my mother.”

  “The helot woman?” he said looking her over.

  “Yes.” Chara felt her spirits lift at the news that there was a Helot woman there.

  “This way,” the man said and stepped aside for her. She followed him through the building and the small courtyard. Chara could not make heads of tails of the numerous buildings in the complex, but she was eventually led to a small door at the back of one of the buildings.

  Chara felt sheer joy when her mother opened the door and she rushed to embrace her.

  “How is she?”

  “She is sleeping.” The last piece of worry left Chara, her baby was fine and alive—anything else she could deal with later. Chara walked over to the small cot where a bundle wrapped in white linen lay. She gazed at the tiny face of her baby as she lay in peaceful repose. Her pink mouth was tiny and golden lashes rested on large round cheeks. Chara had to stop herself from picking her up and cuddling her. She knew instantly that all she had done was worth it—Elphia was worth fighting for.

  “How was your journey?” Chara asked her mother.

  “Hard,” her mother said and placed her hand on Chara’s shoulder as they watched the sleeping baby.

  “I am sorry. But we are here now.”

  Chara spent the rest of the day being with Elphia, feeding her and playing with her. Chara could not get enough of her, her perfect tiny little hands and she smelled so incredibly lovely.

  “Now what?” Chara’s mother asked.

  “Now we must go to Attica.”

  “What if they won’t accept us?”

  “They have to.” There was no other choice. If things went poorly in Attica they would be in great trouble. “Tomorrow I will find out who to talk to.” Chara knew she had to find the right person to petition. If there was anything the Athenians did well it was administration. There would be an administrator for Attica she guessed she needed to reach them. She wasn’t entirely sure how this worked, but somehow she would make them officially accept her family into the community. If it was true that Athens was desperate with the ravages incurred to Attica due to war and the plague, then she had a real chance.

  Finding the administrator for Attica wasn’t difficult. The city had a clear administrative area surrounding the Assembly and it was only a matter of finding the right office. This was where the illustrious figures of the Athenian society went about their business. The man she needed to deal with was in his forties, a sober thin man with a sharp nose. He sat at a desk at the back of the office, but his clerks restricted access to him.

  “Are you lodging a petition?”

  “I seek to establish in Attica,” she said trying to clear the nervousness out of her voice.

  The younger man looked her up and down. She could tell that he had serious reservations about her and her claim.

  “I represent my family. We are farmers.”—technically they were slaves, but effectively they were farmers—“My family has been working land for generations and we have the skills to grow crops.” The man gave her more seriously consideration. “My brother is young and strong and my father has considerable experience.” Chara held her breath; her entire future depended on convincing this man that she had something substantial to offer. The man didn’t say anything, but he nodded his head slightly toward the administrator’s desk.

  She approached the man sitting at the desk writing hurriedly on parchment. He had an air of importance around him—an assurance that he belonged in office.

  “Yes?” he said without looking up.

  “I seek to settle in Attica with my family,” she said feeling more confident as she had managed to convince this man’s underling. The man looked up, his serious gray eyes looking her over without really settling on her.

  “And from where to you come?”

  “We are Helots,” she said and straightened her back.

  “You’ve come a long way for a Helot.”

  “We are motivated to seek a better life and I understand you required skilled farmers. I and my family have produced
strong harvests consistently all our lives.”

  “So you say,” he said and finally looked her in the eye. Chara was worried that she had lost him, said the wrong thing.

  “You need farmers and we are farmers.”

  He sighed and leaned back into his chair looking her over.

  “Barley, olives, grapes, whatever you need, we can grow it.” Chara held herself tensely as he assessed her. She couldn’t think of anything else to say. “We even have an ox.”

  “Why is your father sending a girl to petition in his stead?”

  “The Spartans are making things difficult,” she said carefully without elaborating. She had no other real reason to give and she hoped he would accept her answer.

  The man narrowed his eyes and picked up his quill. He scribbled quickly on a bit of parchment and handed it to her. “Show this to Klenias in Archernae,” he said with a dismissive wave of his hand. Chara had to reach across the desk for the note as man had returned his attention to his writing.

  She clutched the note to her chest as she left the administrator’s office, nothing would make her let go of this note; she knew it was the ticket to her future. This introduction would get her seen by the person who could achieve her official settlement in Attica. Archernae she said to herself—that was the place where her future lay. She’d never heard of the place and knew nothing of it, but it was shining hope as far as she was concerned.

  Chapter 14

  Chara and her mother departed for Archernae a couple of days later. They both thanked Panos’ cousin profusely for the assistance they’d been given and the woman was good enough to send them off with some bread and cheese. Chara tied Elphia around her chest in a sling where she slept quite happily there throughout the journey. Farmers’ generosity meant that they didn’t have to walk for long stretches.

  When they arrived, Chara settled Elphia and her mother under a tree near the village square while she searched out the man recommended to her—Klenias—who appeared to be the Administration’s man in the town. He wasn’t hard to find and she should have guessed as it was the wealthiest looking villa in the village. She had to wait in line outside with other petitioners before she was given admission into the villa’s offices.

  She dutifully passed on the note the Athenian administrator had given her to the man. He looked much kinder than the writer of the note, which gave her hope. He heard her plea and seemed to think it over before suggesting a property that was currently occupied by an elderly woman with no family left. They could settle there provided they were willing to care for the woman who was frail and alone. The man looked a bit uncertain about his own suggestion, but she quickly agreed before he could think of a reason to change his mind. She would care for a garrison of elderly women if it was a pass to a safe future. She felt like jumping and clapping, but she contained herself until she got outside. She still couldn’t believe she had pulled this off—they had a place, a place where Elphia could live and grow. There had been times when she thought nothing would come of this mad venture and it had all come to fruition.

  She had the crude map that the man had drawn for her. He’d assured her it was three hours walk from the village and they set out immediately in the direction they’d been shown.

  They found the farm as it had been described and it was a site of devastation. The olive trees had all been felled and the vines had been burnt. As far as Chara could see, there was nothing actually growing on the farm apart from weeds. This was the handiwork of the Spartans and the woman here was clearly incapable of managing it.

  There was an uncomfortable moment when Chara explained to the woman that they’d been sent to manage the farm. The woman wasn’t entirely welcoming, but the sight of Elphia seemed to soften her a bit. It turned out that the woman’s family had suffered greatly with the plague and she alone had survived its ravages. She eventually invited them into the modest stone house she lived in.

  Chara only spent a few days in Archernae before having to return to her father. The shorter her absence, the less likely it would be that it had been noticed. Her mother and Elphia settled into the room they had been allocated as the elderly woman slowly accepted assistance around the house, alleviating some of the burden on the woman’s severely arthritic knees. Chara was sorry to leave Elphia again, but hopefully this would be for the last time. They would all be here soon, starting their new life as free people away from the tyranny of the Spartans.

  She knew that she could get Doros to pay attention now that they had a farm that desperately needed them. She suspected he’d dismissed her claims and intentions outright, but she’d proved him wrong—she’d gotten a farm for them and there was no reason for any of them to stay in Sparta now.

  It took her awhile to get back and she had to traverse the village before she reached her father’s farm. It turned out that many in the village were happy to see her back; she hadn’t realized how many had known she’d been gone, but they all reassured her that her absence had been well hidden. Chara sought out her friend.

  “I’ve found a place for us,” Chara confessed to Della after a quick embrace.

  “Truly?” Della said disbelievingly.

  “A farm. It requires a great deal of restoration. It will be hard work and it may produce little to begin with, but once it comes right, it will be a good life.”

  “And what if they take it back off you when you have restored it?”

  “There is no one to give it to,” Chara explained. “They would have restored it already if there was someone to do it. It has been close to a year since the Spartans stopped their assaults on the place and nothing has been done to the place since that time, and many others as well.”

  “I hope you are right, I worry so much about you—and your brother.” Chara realized that Della might have developed more tender feelings for her brother than she’d realized. This also meant that her activities were taking him away.

  “You should consider joining us,” Chara stated. “I know it’s a scary proposition, but so far, it has worked.” Della looked uncertain, but she finally said she would think on it.

  They parted as Chara needed to find her brother and father, and convince them that it was time to leave. She expected that she might have a battle ahead, but she was not going to lose. Her father would likely be more open to the idea, especially when she reported how much her mother had liked the farm and had seen good potential in it.

  Nicias had a few days of rest after fierce skirmishes to regain and protect Cythera—months of campaigning had further depleted the men. Now there were disturbing reports that Athens were preparing to move against Megara. The Spartan spies had all confirmed that they were preparing for something substantial.

  The generals were meeting with the Assembly to decide on Sparta’s actions and if their key ally needed defending. They were just too few to do all the things needed and they were all tired. He didn’t mind the campaigning; in fact he’d been doing it his whole adult life, but there was something new on his mind now. His mind had started turning to more domestic matters and the potential life he could have if they ever reached a state of peace. He could not stop being a soldier, but there would be more room for such considerations if the war concluded—not that it was looking to any time soon. These were things he never used to consider at all. He knew his girl was a part of the reason his perspective was changing.

  She was coming around, he could feel it, her body reacted to him—she welcomed him. It was a heady knowledge that sat in the back of his mind constantly. He now longed for the days when he could have a few days to return to his father’s estate and if they were marching to Megara, he would have a chance to return. He wanted to move her to his own promised estate and to keep her there, but this war left him with little time for personal pursuits—and the Assembly with little time for matter such as assigning estates.

  But the idea of marching north was building excitement in him, the kind of excitement he used to feel heading into battle.


  “Doros, you have to come. The farm in beautiful and it’s all ours.” Chara was pleading with her brother. He hadn’t outright said no, but he had a look of suspicious disbelief—like she would lie about it, she thought to herself. She suspected that she might have to change tactics. “I’ve invited Della to join us.” She just wanted to see what his reaction would be. He frowned. Well, that was an interesting reaction, she surmised. Maybe Della’s apparent feeling for Doros was returned—this could mean that she might be better off trying to convince Della.

  “I am a Helot and I am proud of it,” he said, but Chara could tell there was an edge of detached interest in his voice. He hadn’t outright dismissed it. She knew it was no use speaking further—he needed to think things over. The stubborn little mule he was could only take on so much before he ground his heels in and she knew not to push further. She would just work on Della in the meantime. Her success so far had given her confidence—had achieved the unthinkable—she had worked with the cumbersome Athenian administration and achieved the outcome she wanted. Growing up under the thumb of the Spartan’s, it wasn’t an expectation that one’s efforts would ever meet with any kind of success.

  She also knew that she didn’t have much time—each day she was here only increased the chance of someone telling the wrong person what she was up to. She needed to get her father to Attica, and her brother too—if that included persuading Della to join them, all the better. She had already broached the idea with Della and she would continue the conversation. From the looks of the land when she travelled back southwards, there were more than a few farms that needed care.