by Rane, April
“I hold the power in my hand,” she hissed, and she knew from the frightened look in his eyes that he believed her. Aradia put it back in her pocket and with her fingers directed at him, made the sign of the evil eye.
Only then did she and Tomis step into the night, fog and darkness enshrouding them. Walking a short distance they came upon a small stable. The stable boy, giving Tomis a knowing glance, seemed ready and eagerly handed the reins of a deep russet colored destrier to him. Climbing up in front of him, allowing the rhythm of the horse to lull her and give her a sense of true peace for the first time in months, Aradia fell asleep in his arms.
Tomis did not know what he was going to do with this fascinating woman, but knew he could not lose her. He had never felt love before, but he was very aware this powerful feeling was far more than lust. Aradia rocking against him crazed him with desire, but the tender feelings welling up in his heart cautioned him to protect her and let her sleep. Those feelings won and always would, even though Tomis knew that to keep peace with his father, it was expected of him to marry for matters of state, and that this woman in his arms would never be a candidate for such a marriage.
Arriving in the dead of night at the Port at Piraeus, Tomis began to slow his steed. The dock was soundless. He knew of the many dangers that lurked in the shadows. His intent was to get Aradia aboard his waiting ship as soon as possible. The night was moonless as he peered out over the white-capped waves. He wondered if his beautiful queen was a good sailor. His intuition told him that the next few days on the open water would be intoxicating for a sea faring man, but challenging for a novice. He did not know exactly what devils followed Aradia, but he felt they would be safer once they boarded his ship.
Opening her eyes, Aradia turned toward Tomis and asked if he could see the ship they were to sail on. He assured her that he could, as he slid from the horse and held his hand up for her to dismount.
Finding a small rowing boat that was lacking one ore, Tomis smiled and said, “At least it seems to be minus any gaping holes.” Climbing into the tiny craft they headed for the silent ship, anchored and misted in a foggy veil of darkness.
As Tomis rowed against the jagged white waves his mind drifted to the problems he had been trying not to think about. Soon he would be parted from her again, a thought so uncomfortable that he forced it away.
Tomis’ mind raced back in time, before he met her… before he fell under Aradia’s spell, he thought affectionately. A league of diplomats had left his homeland, the city of Tomi, a large sea port on the Black Sea, to create a marriage between him and a Scythian princess. Once he saw Aradia that first time, he knew that he could not go through with it, but he had been unsuccessful at putting a stop to it. He knew only that he did not want to marry anyone but this beguiling creature in his arms.
As a consequence, his fate was unknown to him, except for the sure knowledge that his father would most assuredly disinherit him for marrying a woman that he would find beneath his status. Thinking of the beauty that sat beside him as he rowed, he recognized that he had been barely able to eat or sleep of late. He shook his head with the unbidden thought, most men in his position had a mistress, but it was absurd to think that this headstrong, auburn haired beauty would content herself with being anyone’s mistress.
As the sea was rough, Tomis had suggested that Aradia lie down until they reached the ship. Throwing her cloak over the damp wood she did just that, closing her eyes to the forceful stirring of the small boat.
“Ahoy…ahoy!” he called, as they approached the ship. Calling out again they heard scuffling above and soon saw faces peering over the rail. A rope ladder was thrown down to them and Tomis gave her instructions in how to climb in the windy condition that ensued.
Seeing the ladder swing violently in the wind, Tomis grabbed and held the bottom rung firmly with his weight. Aradia grasped it, her knuckles turning white as she struggled to get her foot securely on the ladder. His weight and hers did not stop it from slamming recklessly against the rocking ship. Slowly she climbed the unstable rope to the top. Tomis was right behind her, knowing that his weight served somewhat in stabilizing the precarious ladder.
Hearing an audible gasp Tomis looked up at the woman leaning over the rail who was holding her hand out toward the woman he loved.
Sovonya, his friend, had pushed the hardiest of his sailors out of the way, and she seemed to melt at the sight of Aradia.
“What hardship has this poor child endured?” she cried. “Oh dear, hurry follow me. Both of you are drenched, and the child is exhausted I see.” Seeing that the cold and trembling young woman could hardly stand, Sovonya clucked at him to carry her, watching to see that he followed closely as she led him to the cabin she had made ready for her charge. She had seen fifty years but still had a fiery spirit and the remnants of blaze in her hair. Her golden eyes never missed a thing. Slim and with a pleasant figure, she was sharp yet tactful.
When Tomis laid Aradia upon the bed, she did not rouse.
“You are in good hands, Bella Donna,” he whispered to her sleeping form. “I leave you with an old and powerful friend who is, like you, a sorceress. But she will teach you to keep your sorcery quiet, to keep you safe. It will do her good to have you for company. She quietly holds court over the villa we are headed to as if she owns it. You will love her as I do.”
Placing a kiss on her forehead, he turned to leave. Aradia, sighing, turned over and moved more deeply into a sound sleep.
Sovonya stepped out into the hallway with him, concern turning her golden eyes to bronze.
“I need not ask what this lovely creature means to you,” she told him. “I can see all that you feel in your eyes. Tell me nothing more at this time. As for the future, I know it will be hard for you, but you must keep your distance as much as possible, for she is indeed a temptation. You are betrothed, though word has not yet come that the princess has accepted. Well…perhaps she will turn you down, not wanting the scoundrel of Tomi after all,” she teased. “We shall hope in that direction, it would make things easier I can see.”
In the next couple of days Tomis and Sovonya formulated a plan, whereby this young woman, Aradia, would become someone whose social acceptance would be dependent on the support which Sovonya would provide. She would see to it that the rumor was put abroad that she was being visited by a young relative from Corinth.
“They need know nothing more,” Sovonya told Tomis. “She is here and she is beautiful. The important thing is that people become accustomed to her presence.”
Sovonya was a romantic; she wanted to see Tomis have the woman of his dreams. Certainly, she did not want to see history repeat itself, for his father did not have the woman of his heart. She put the unbidden memories away. After all, what was she but an interfering old woman reminiscing about things that could never be? However, the thoughts were there, and could not be ignored. She pondered on them a moment before clearing her head, and then brushed them aside.
As Sovonya walked the deck the next morning, she realized that they were getting close to the island and she wondered how Rumaldea, when he returned from his latest voyage, would accept Aradia. He roared at times like a lion, and of course one of his ships bore that name, but he also helped many men find their way to fortune.
Trying to warm herself in the sun, Sovonya realized that when the word was out about her guest, the young men in her circle would be interested. But, she thought, she would try her best to protect Tomis’ interests. Of all the young men who had come through the villa that most people called Lyons Gate, he was her favorite. Suddenly Tomis’ voice interrupted the direction of her mind.
“Sovonya,” Tomis said as he grasped her hands in a warm greeting. “The sea agrees with you. May I speak plainly? Perhaps share with you more on what we have already touched upon.”
“You have always spoken plainly and with truth,” she said, “after all we are friends you and me.”
“I have spoken my heart to Aradia on the
night I beckoned her to come away with me,” Tomis said, “I know it was not proper. I cannot explain what came over me…”
He ran his hand through his golden mane, tossing it back. Thoughtfully he looked over the rail, but then shook his head from side to side in a manner of hopelessness.
“I did not ask for her hand in marriage, though I truly wanted to with all of my heart,” he continued. “I dare not tell her of the betrothal, for I fear she has already been through so much. I am not sure the nature of what has transpired, and I know she is not yet ready to take me into her confidence.” Tomis reached out to Sovonya, clasping her hands in his. “Please help me. What can I do?”
Tomis had spoken to Sovonya with such depth of emotion that it brought tears to the eyes of the great lady. But then she recomposed herself, for she knew she must keep her wits about her. Stepping back, she took her hands away from his.
“As for your marriage,” she said, “you are right that it would not be proper for you to break your obligations in that matter. Your people are depending on your marriage to bring trade and peace between your lands. If you fail because the Scythian Princess declines, you will then be released from your obligation. But you know as well as I do, that your father will not take well to your declining. Please Tomis, have mercy on your father for he means well.”
“You have always had a soft place in your heart for my father,” he told her. “I was very surprised when you left Tomi, but even more surprised finding you at Lyons Gate. My father was very angry when his council made it clear that he could not marry you. His dalliances would have been a temporary matter, I am sure. He was not used to being told no, he…”
“This is not a conversation to have now,” she interrupted. Desperately needing to change the subject she said, “It is time that we have some nourishment. I will see to that now.” Walking away she peeked in on her charge and then went to the galley to see if she could find a cook to serve them.
When she first arrived on the ship, Aradia had slept for thirty hours. The last couple of days, Sovonya had kept her busy with sketches for new apparel and wild stories of Lyons Gate. Having explained that the villa was on an island and that though it was a polis of Greece, the people that lived there did not pay as much attention to convention and enjoyed a freer existence. Men and women enjoyed music in the court yards, and plays in the amphitheater and they even dined together on special occasions. A few… very feisty and talented ladies on the island were philosophers and mathematicians. And no, they weren’t courtesans, she assured a stunned but happy Aradia. Then Sovonya teased her unmercifully as to just what she knew about courtesans.
“I have read about such things happening in Athens and personally I boil over at the thought that a courtesan can have such freedom simply because she gives sexual favor,” simmered Aradia, “and a learned woman such as myself has to be cloistered away as if she has leprosy. Then again, it is not the fault of the courtesan. I have nothing but high regard for one who has the intelligence to get around the ridiculous laws of stupid men! But I would ask when will they, if ever, recognize the error of their ways and allow…there you see! Even I use the term. Why should it be men who get to allow anything! Why in my country I…we…”
Sovonya sat, playing with her most prized possession, her fan, given to her by a client from the orient when she was young and beautiful. The fan, as herself, was somewhat faded and worn but still had strength and character.
“You and I are much alike,” said Sovonya. “But you are young and have not learned to pace yourself. Your beliefs are too true I am afraid, but you are a woman before her time. I shared with you that the land we are going to is more lax than Athens, but it is not an island in some future time- as in a story that we might tell the young ones. It none-the -less comes under the auspices of Greek men who honor money first, each other next, their family, and then possibly their wives-that is of course if she is a good little bird and never makes a peep.”
“I need some air,” Aradia claimed, and standing abruptly she discarded the sewing in her lap and rushed out of the cabin.
Tomis found her at the rail, looking pale as she watched the white-capped waves strike the side of the ship. As they conversed the sky darkened and the waves suddenly threatened to wash over the hull. He escorted her back to the cabin where she remained for the rest of the rough voyage.
Sitting on comfortable cushions, wrapped in blankets provided by Tomis, she and Sovonya bumped along in an old wagon, on a rutted road leading to the villa. Aradia was weak, and thrilled to be on land. Her heart embraced her excursion. But her stomach had protested the journey, nearly from the moment she boarded the ship.
Aradia’s first view of Lyons Gate, a rare two story country house on a small hill overlooking the Aegean Sea, took her breath away. Egyptian blue, she murmured nearly hypnotized by the color of the bay, lying west and below the grand villa. Promptly she fell back to sleep, and was carried upstairs to her room by one of the slaves, as Tomis had put back to sea.
Aradia stood for hours never complaining, while the seamstress poked and prodded, turning her, this way and that, muttering now and again that she loved working with Aradia’s proud stature. Everything the seamstress made looked stunning and she was able to charge double, as all the garments were needed quickly. Besides, as well she knew, when it was disclosed that it was she that had fashioned what Aradia wore there would never be a lack of business from that day forward. And she was to keep the sketches, she had been told. That alone was worth its weight in gold, as she could never draw such lovely things.
And when the sweet, willowy seamstress complimented Aradia for being able to stand so still, and asked her how she was able to do it, Aradia gave her an enigmatic smile while saying nothing and the seamstress, already enamored of her decided she was a goddess come to earth.
“The poor thing had nothing to wear when she arrived,” she confided in the cook who was anxious to hear everything about the mysterious Aradia. “It makes you wonder where she came from.” The cook, a large pleasant woman with a trusting face, nodded at the remark about Aradia’s wonderful figure. She had her own plans to fatten her up; put some meat on her bones cause she’s too thin, said the cook, who had been at the villa for thirty years. She thought everyone should put on a few pounds, and would have no trouble doing so if they ate the delicious meals she cooked.
The cherub faced cook loved it when Aradia came in to sit with her while she prepared the evening meal. They laughed together and she learned about herbs for healing. She thought herbs were better used to cook with, than to repeat some strange-sounding words while drinking them or spreading them around. Yet, hadn’t she had already seen Aradia’s magic heal the maids with coughs in their chest and fever in their blood?
Still, having heard the rumors about the mistress Sovonya, she was not surprised. Like were drawn to like, she often told herself. But how few were like these two women, old and young, and yet capable, she guessed, of so much more than anyone knew.
Aradia marveled at the palatial gardens that were at her disposal. As she lounged with Sovonya in the courtyard she was aware that each of them was trying to move the conversation to a topic lying close to their hearts. Sovonya finally launched into what she felt was an essential discussion: the importance of decorum. Aradia listened closely, knowing that Greek customs were very different than those she had known and railed about that fact. Yet also she wanted to appreciate that she was out of Athens, where she was under the daily threat of being sold as a slave.
Perhaps, she thought, as Sovonya went on about the visit that was being made to their household soon by a legendary bard, almost as well known as Homer, she should confide in her about her family. But how would she start a conversation, she wondered, about being transported to Athens after your family had been butchered and would have been sold as a slave if not for a chance meeting with a sad and lonely woman. How, she thought, do you begin to tell a story such as she had lived through, and not elicit pity o
r questions about what she had suffered at the hand of the barbarians.
Aradia could not be certain how much Tomis had told her as to how he had happened to come into possession of her, or if he had stated his intentions, though since coming here, she had not seen him at all. He was away on business matters, Sovonya had explained.
“Perhaps I should tell you,” Aradia began with great effort when Sovonya paused for a moment. But try as she may the words did not come.
“You have not found it within you to take me into your confidence,” said Sovonya, “to share the tragedy that has befallen to you. But I know that it is grave. I have no intention of prying, and yet you came to us with no past, so I have invented one. Trust me on this matter, and you will have no regrets.
“The evening that the bard joins us,” continued Sovonya, “you and I along with many of my friends, will be able to attend. An arbor has been set up for us. We will not be directly with the men, but we will be close enough that the men will have a clear view of the weaker sex. Well, I have a surprise for them! Rumors have spread of a beautiful young maiden staying here in the villa. Your dropping out of nowhere has set tongues to wagging.”
With a touch of excitement, the normally regal Sovonya rose. Smoothing her gown she began pacing and speaking with animation. “Hearing of your beauty all of the town women are jealous, yet vying to come to see what will unfold. Well … you, my dear, will unfold… so to speak.
“The women from the town want nothing more than to find that you have a tarnished reputation,” she continued, “which would take you out of the running in their minds. However, the men hope you do have a scandalous past, so they will be in the running and into your bed. Of course that will not happen because you have more sense … and I have more power than most.”