by L. E. Waters
Leander gets off and nods to me. “Don’t waste your tears. He died a coward.”
With that, he rolls Arcen over to show five broken arrows in his back.
He was shot while running away.
“Oh no, oh no, oh no.”
This is great shame to a family. Leander and I will be disgraced and Kali might not even be able to marry now. There’s nothing so vile as a coward in Sparta; a leper’s more welcome at a ceremony. To be the mother of a coward is like death. Ophira pulls me up the hill and I can see Leander up ahead hesitating at Theodon.
He shouts down to me, grabbing Theodon’s thick shoulder. “You see this! This is what a real son looks like! This is something a man like me should have! I would’ve been better off breeding with this helot!” He points despairingly toward Ophira.
I can’t take it anymore and burst out, “No need for that! Theodon is yours! He’s both of ours! He was born Arcen’s twin! He came from my womb! I nursed him for a year!”
Leander looks shocked at first and then amused. “Is this true, Ophira, or is she losing her mind?”
Ophira lets go of me in anger, turns to me, and says, “Of course she’s losing her mind. What else will jealousy and a cowardly dead son do?”
I look at Theodon, who seems so utterly confused. Ophira goes up to him and whispers something in his ear, rubs his shoulder, and takes him to his horse. I can’t believe Ophira took this from me. Leander walks up to Kali, who is tottering around sweetly, mindless of what’s occurring in front of her.
He shouts, “And once this mothax turns ten, we’re sending her away!”
His angry voice now scares her, and she comes running to me. I hold her tight as I cry in her hair and watch Arcen’s dead body lie still.
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Other than commands and nods, Ophira and I stop talking. Though she still works for me, it’s amazing how little we have to communicate. I understand why she had to deny my confession for both our sakes, but we still cannot repair the disconnect I caused. I find out through Nereus that Theodon has finally joined the Citizens’ Army. Nereus says he’s already winning great acclaim and respect. All Ophira and I have is Kali, and we enjoy her separately. She’s torn between us, but it becomes normal for her. Leander leaves for war again as soon as Arcen is buried: not in a hero’s grave, but a regular civilian’s grave, given his cowardice.
A few months later, Nereus is found dead in his sleep by one of his household helots. We place him in his boat and send him adrift with his sails flying—to finally float indefinitely. I keep the knife he gave me on me daily, still wrapped in my sandal straps in memory of him. His household is passed down to me, his only surviving relative. I now am in charge of three households, an almost unheard of feat.
We watch Kali grow, and her looks start to change. Her nose becomes slightly eagle-shaped, and her lips lose their deep color. Her hair is wispy, and her shape is long and lanky. I’d hoped her beauty would attract a man who would overlook her mixed breeding, but now I see her fading. Every week, I get in my cart and force Kali to come with me to the oracle of Helen where we pray for Helen to bestow her beauty on her. Each time, we make our way to the temple on the mountaintop, past the statues lining the steep path, and climb the stairs to the columned circle. The air is hard to breathe so high up; I nearly faint when I bow before the oracle. I hold Kali’s hand as we recite our prayer, and when she drinks from the temple spring, I notice Ophira has given Kali her powerful medallion to wear. We do this for a year, and sure enough, she blossoms once again. Her muscle tone builds up to give her curves where there were none; her hair turns a bright strawberry-blonde, flowing thickly over her shoulders, and her eyes flash unusual amber.
She’s not allowed to go to the festivals, being a mothax, but every time I go into the city, I bring her with me to be seen. I see how all of the men and women notice her. I watch from the house as Ophira teaches her to dance in the fields below. Kali’s almost as graceful as she is; they look like two sirens flittering between the bushes and trees. I worry every day that passes is one day closer to her being sent away. I pray to Hades to take Leander's life. I think if he never comes back, no one will know she is still with me. Leander survives, to my regret. He comes home again up the dirt road on his warhorse. He aged, though, much older than my forty-five years. War took a toll on him, and he’s walking stiffer and slower for it.
He comes into the house without even acknowledging me, throws down his feathered helmet, and declares, “I have decided to wife-share with Nicholas. She has produced four fine sons, all fine specimens, all excelling in agoge even though they’re still young. He’s agreed to share her as long as I promise my household to the future child, and I’m agreeing to this.”
I was expecting this one day and am ready for it. “If you are asking me for my permission, you can have it, but there is a price.”
He looks curious but wary. “What price?”
“Kali can stay, and when it comes time, I get to decide who I leave my households to.” He nods in agreement, but I continue, “You will also live in your house until you’re dead, and then you can give it to whomever you want.”
Even though it’s beneficial for a woman to own three households, it’s important only if you have someone to give them to. Kali’s all I have left, and she can own a household only through marriage. He picks up his helmet, walks out to his horse, and rides out on my dirt road for the last time. Neither of us even cared enough to say good-bye. I feel free from the worry of Leander sending Kali away. Ophira seems to understand what happened after Leander never comes back, even though she knows the army has returned. She seems a little happier too.
It catches us off guard when the ephor returns with a horse, cart, and six soldiers.
I ask, “What brings you here?”
“We have come to collect the mothax,” the ephor calls out.
“There is no mothax in our house.”
“It’s written here and signed by your mark that you birthed a child of Spartan-helot descent. Is this not your mark?”
“Yes it is, but that child perished.”
He must have heard this before upon collecting, since he retorts, “We have searched the records before we were sent here.”
Unfortunately, Kali runs up to us at this time.
“I presume this is the child.” He reads his orders. “Female, age ten.”
“This is my helot’s child,” I say, hoping Ophira will play along again.
“Is that true?” he asks Ophira.
Ophira does not hesitate. “She’s my child.”
“Every helot born has to be recorded as state property.”
“She has a record.” Ophira’s at least buying us time. He looks suspicious but knows he has to have proof before removing her.
“I’ll be back if I find no ten-year-old, female, full helot bound to this residence.”
“Ephor!” I call out, “Where are you sending the mothakes?”
He smiles suspiciously. “The kings have been generous enough to grant them their own colony of Tarentum. They’ll be able to live amongst their own kind. It’s what is best for them.”
Kali jumps into Ophira’s arms when he leaves, and Ophira says, “We’ll never let them take you.”
Ophira looks at me and, for the first time in a long while, speaks to me directly. “How much time do we have?”
“I don’t know, a week?”
Ophira gives Kali a push. “We need to talk. Go play.”
Kali, looking thrilled we’re talking to each other, runs off.
“Alcina, we could send her to live amongst the helots.”
I consider this. “But the only helot we trust is in the Citizens’ Army. Can she be left at ten to fend for herself?”
“I could always take her and get another home to work in.”
“That means you’d have to bring her with you, and they would want her full helot papers, which we don’t have.”
&
nbsp; Ophira shakes her head. “She is too young to marry.”
“We might have no choice.”
We both sit down in frustrated silence.
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A week later, the ephor’s back, looking greatly displeased. We’ve prepared her for this day and where she’ll be going. She must have been scared, but she didn’t want us to feel guilty.
She even says in her cheerful voice, “This will be good for me. I can’t wait to be with people my own age.”
We pack her bags, hug her, and I tell her, “You will come back. This is your home, and we’ll send for you as soon as we can.” I take out the dog-skin cap I’d been saving and place it on her small head. “This was your father’s.”
That causes a lone tear to stream down her cheek, but she sucks back any others. “I’ll be fine. I love you, Mother.” She gives me another hug and turns. “I love you, Ophira.”
Ophira’s a mess of tears. Kali gets onto the cart stoically, waves to us with a gleaming smile, grasping her bag. When she disappears down the hill, I turn to Ophira, and we cry in each other’s arms.
Chapter 9
Months later, one of my more loyal helots comes yelling, “An enemy’s invading Sparta!”
Ophira rushes with me over the mountains and into the city to hear more on the situation. The same steel-eyed ephor who took Kali away is standing in the middle of the square. Women, children, and old men are gathered, desperate for news. The rest of the normally crowded city streets are deserted—the calm before the storm.
“This is an emergency,” the ephor shouts to the worried crowd. The marble statue of King Leonidas looms above. “The majority of our army is engaged in Crete. Pyrrhus has taken this vulnerable time to attack. It’ll take days for reinforcements to get here. The only defense we have is the Citizens’ Army and agoge. We have merely slaves, young men, and boys to rely on now.” The crowd surges, but the ephor screams louder, “Sparta’s sending all of its women and children to refuge in Crete.”
Furious uproar rolls over the crowd.
A woman among us stands up and shouts, “Don’t let them take us away! So we survive? We’ll have nothing to come back to!”
Everyone cheers and rallies behind her.
I call out, “Spartan women! If we send our sons off to die for Sparta, then we must stay and die for Sparta too!”
Ophira stands up with me in the pulsing crowd, fists hammering toward the sky in unyielding patriotism.
The ephor gets up to speak again. “Our brave women of Sparta, we should have known you would not be taken from your city! Let us all stand together and fight!”
We watch the Citizens’ Army march into the center square in their thinner, simpler armor. Theodon walks beside important leaders in the front. He nods slightly in our direction but stands stoically at the arm of his commander.
His leader speaks. “Women of Sparta, we commend you for your allegiance. The enemy is fast approaching with numbers tripling the forces we have at our disposal. With no fortifications we need to dig deep trenches immediately, all around the city entrances to keep their elephants at bay.”
“Elephants?” Ophira looks at me anxiously.
I stand up again and yell, “To our spades!”
The crowd pours like a flooded river out of the square and to the large cart full of shovels. Each woman picks one up and breaks into groups to dig trenches outside the city.
Ophira and I dig all day beside Theodon’s army, ignoring throbbing, bleeding blisters. When night falls, a woman from our group stands up and shouts, “All soldiers go home! Put down your spades and give them to your mothers. We’ll dig so you can rest and give your all for our country tomorrow!”
The women cheer, and the leader of their group bows low to us and takes his troops back inside the city. Theodon breaks formation to turn around and give us a worried nod before another soldier pulls him back by his chest strap. We continue throughout the night with staked torches as our only light.
The sun rises in a vibrant, red haze, and we can see thousands of little shadows assembling on the mountains surrounding Sparta.
Someone shouts, “Mothers find safety within the city!” as trumpets give forlorn warning.
Filthy and stiff from exhaustion, Ophira and I hobble back with them. The women are corralled into the stately assembly building above the square. We arm ourselves with whatever we can gather: shovels, pitchforks, sickles. Some women wear ropes cinched around their necks because they’ll rather hang than be taken captive. Our building is three stories tall and set high in the city, giving us a good vantage point. We all huddle at the windows and watch with mouths agape as the enemy assembles into tight, well-disciplined formation. Ophira finds her medallion, brings it to her lips, and clutches my hand as she chants something I don’t understand. I pray that the Athenians will stay their distance, and every woman jumps back when the sea of men begins to surge forward toward Sparta. Knowing we have nowhere to run, I take Ophira’s shaking hand and bring her back to the window. Far off, roaring forward, come the horrid, gigantic beasts called elephants leading the charge. They’re like nothing we’ve ever seen before. Ophira shuts her eyes tight and brings her hands to her mouth in more whispered prayers.
I’m scared for Theodon and for Sparta. Every time the enemy moves to approach the city, Sparta sends out troops to push them back. Some of their men put down their spears and rush to fill the trenches in segments so that the elephants can cross, all the while under a deluge of spears and arrows from the roofs of the single-story city dwellings walling in the city. As each enemy falls into the trenches, their comrades carelessly shovel dirt on top of them. Once the elephants gain passage, the enemy looms along the perimeter of the city, testing every entrance. Inside the city, our stone streets are filled with soldiers and boys running to their commands. It’s amazing that in so much chaos, control is still being kept. Many loyal helots step forward with farm tools in vast numbers to defend the city. We have to buy Sparta time.
An impressive phalanx formation of red-cloaked hoplites, the only regiment left behind to protect the city, marches right outside the square. They look ethereal with their feathered, beak-faced helmets and bronze body armor—like beautiful, deadly birds. Spear and shield expertly positioned, they go out to repel a heavy attack. We can’t see the elephants but can hear them, right outside the fortress of our city. They sound like I’ve always imagined the sea monsters in Nereus’s tales, echoing a thundering horn blow. I hope we’ll never see one up close, that they will not be let into the city.
Later, we wait, sitting on the floor, listening to the battle in the background, when we hear the men shouting especially loud. We rush to the window to see, to our horror, ten elephants have broken into one of the side streets and are charging down to the square. Ophira clutches on to me in terror.
My imagination can’t have created such a creature. It’s the height of three men and the weight of ten horses. White horns which the enemy has tipped with iron protrude out of its face, and a long snake-like appendage curls and twists as it charges. On its head are huge, flapping pieces of flesh that move like wings! These elephants trample over any men standing in their way. Spears are thrown at them, yet they bounce off their thick skins. The beasts thrash their horned heads back and forth, throwing men against stone buildings. Worse yet, they grab men with their snakes and throw them against the ground, then squash them with their giant heads.
Half the men go running from them, while the other half courageously stays to either stab the beasts or perish. The elephants start to fall in massive heaps in the streets. One of them goes through a wall, causing a whole building to collapse upon it. Once an elephant falls, the soldiers pounce on the elephant handler in rage. Each remaining elephant is led off in different directions. All goes quiet as they disappear. The women are silent at the horror of what they witnessed. I have a new understanding of how terrified Arcen must have been in battle. I could never have
dreamed of these kinds of atrocities and total disregard for life. We hear men running down to the square and see six Citizens’ Army men turning around at a familiar voice.
Theodon calls to them, “Stop running! I order you to face this beast together! It’s our only chance!”
They gather and steady for the command to throw their spears. The elephant comes into view and speeds right toward the cluster. I spring up, pull away from Ophira’s tight hold, and run out the door with Nereus’s knife in hand. I stand on the steps of the building as the men release their spears and dash out of the way to every direction. I watch as the furious beast turns around and charges at two of the men, crushing one under its feet and throwing the other with its tusks. I gasp as Theodon catches the elephant’s back leg with a rope, stands on it, and sticks his spear into its flank as it turns on him. The beast tries to get away, but Theodon pulls the spear back out, runs around to the other side, and thrusts it in its flank with an earth-shaking death cry. He steps back as the elephant staggers and falls onto the statue of Leonidas, tipping it over and shattering the hero king into meaningless pieces.
My eyes well up with pride as I look upon the baby who was once too weak to cry.
Satisfied he’s safe, I start back up the stairs but halt when I hear another trumpeting. I turn to see a different beast coming down the other direction, handlerless and out of control. It has a spear stuck deep in its flank, painting its stone-skin with blood. Theodon has little time to react but manages to raise his shield in front of him as the elephant tosses him against the building. I fly down the steps with Nereus’s knife raised, hoping I can get there in time to protect him. Theodon lays motionless as the beast steps back to charge forward with its head down, intent on crushing him. I hit its head at full speed and stab into the spongy flesh of the snake. The elephant reels back trumpeting, shakes its massive head, and throws me. I hit the ground so hard I hear my bones crack on impact. I can’t move. I can only watch as Theodon struggles with the beast, spearing it, and hear its thunderous fall.