His thoughts were interrupted when a familiar voice from the doorway said, “Welcome back, Magus Ries. I wanted to see if you wanted anything to eat or maybe to wash up, or get a bath before your meetings this evening?” He turned, surprised at how fluent her Greek had become in the short time since they had last spoken. From the proud little smile fighting to win freely on her lovely face, he could tell that his surprise must have shown.
He couldn’t have held back the grin, even if he wanted to. With a completely over the top formal bow, he returned her greeting, “Thank you for making me feel so welcome in your truly marvelous home. While the bath is quite tempting, having missed it on my first visit, I had to hear about it the entire way home. I would much rather hear news of what has happened since my last visit. How it is that your Greek has so vastly improved?” again, his grin only widened. He knew he must look a complete fool, but this Evita Young was always so full of surprises. “Please, join me?” he pointed to the second rough hewn chair by the small table.
She gave a quick word to someone standing just out of sight, around the corner of the room, then came in and took a seat. “Well then, before you leave us, you’ll certainly have to try the new and improved baths. I’m quite certain the others will be envious when you tell them of it.”
He nodded. “I’m certain that they will. Perhaps you can show me these improvements?” Her face flushed. At first he thought with excitement, but then perhaps he misread something? Her posture changed she became more guarded.
Slowly and in clipped words she said, “Where I come from such suggestion would be viewed as more than a little scandalous.”
He was a bit taken aback by the sudden change in her tone. He had thought that she liked him. Why was she now so offended, because he wanted to share some intimate time with her? Wasn’t this how it was done where she was from? Wasn’t this how all the others seemed to be doing it? He had done his homework before coming here. His mind raced furiously over the intelligence reports he had gathered... he thought he spotted his error. She seemed to relax, as if she would not hold his mistake against him, so maybe he could try this in a better way. The one they called Anju Gupta had approached the girl’s father and made a marriage contract. All the others had technically been sold, or sold themselves to their men. Maybe this was a class thing! He had offended her dignity by mistake! Such official arrangements were usually only done by nobles and very high end merchant families, but perhaps I have misjudged her status. He thought to himself, after all, they have this level of wealth as essentially survivors of a shipwreck of some sort. He looked up and met her eyes. “I am so sorry if I was careless with my intentions. I was not trying to suggest creating a scandal for you. Is it your father that I should petition? Would you give me his name, and perhaps what he may desire, that I might offer up something he will truly value?”
The flood of words that came next were all English, and while he couldn’t tell what she said, he quickly understood that what he had said was the wrong thing. All the frost giants of the north couldn’t have brought a greater chill to the room than when she finally returned to Greek and replied simply, “That would not be possible. I’ll leave you to rest before your meetings.” and then she stormed out of the room.
So it was that a very confused Magus Ries accepted a small platter of salted olives and sliced cheese, and a bottle of wine with two wine goblets from an equally confused tiny dark-haired girl. At her inquisitive glance, he could only shrug in bafflement.
Do those ideas still serve you?
Syria knew she was going to need help to understand this one. Helena rolled her eyes a bit when she heard what was going on. She liked Evita too, but poking your nose in other people's business didn’t seem like a smart thing to her. Especially people like Evita. Helena knew John said that people were all equal. She even thought that he believed that. She knew, and Syria should know, that that just wasn’t so, and believing something didn’t make it true. Evita was one of the strangers. Rich, and powerful, and smart, knowing things no one else ever even thought of. She and Syria were the daughters of fishermen, poor fishermen at that. Who were they to involve themselves in the affairs of people like Doctor Evita Young? They should just be grateful to have someone like John. Shouldn’t they?
Still, Syria was insistent, and while Georgia seemed exasperated, she did not seem to direct any of her ire at either of them. Likewise, when they discovered Evita a short time later. When they found an extremely agitated young woman with a tear-streaked face swearing in Greek, English, and some other language that neither Helena nor Syria could recognize or understand, standing in the middle of a pile of devastated firewood. The logs not split, but rather chipped or perhaps splintered. More fit for kindling than for maintaining a cooking fire. This did not seem to deter Evita from uttering a curse and driving the axe at an off centered angle into her next target, causing the wood to fly wildly in opposite directions.
Helena and Syria were both shocked when they heard Georgia say in an almost bored tone, “Ok, let’s have it. What this time?”
Evita wheeled angrily on her, “Go AWAY!”
Helena and Syria both started to back up, but froze, their mouths dropping open when Georgia continued, “No. Cause I gotta hear this! You’ve been floating around here for two-and-a-half months, humming and almost dancing after one night with this guy and you didn’t even kiss him. He’s intelligent, rich, successful in his career, that isn’t scamming people as you thought, so that’s a plus, oh and he’s literally fucking magic! After all this buildup, he’s not even here long enough to take his coat off, much less yours, and you’re throwing a fit? I gotta know. What excuses have you come up with not to just take the win and be happy this time? Did he have garlic breath? Maybe there was something in his teeth?” Syria was pretty certain that Georgia had forgotten the axe in Evita’s hand, but she was really afraid that Evita hadn’t.
Evita threw her hands up in the air. “He wanted me to show him the bath!”
Georgia snorted loudly, “Like you haven’t been waking the rest of us up moaning about that in your blankets for the last ten weeks!”
This time, Evita did raise the axe. “With the noise you and Marcus make, I don’t want to hear about it. Besides, dreaming about it and doing it are different. Hell, Georgia, people OWN other people here! I don’t mean like our guys who supposedly own these girls but in reality follow them around like lost puppy, I mean own people own people. How do I know what he would assume it meant? Even beyond no means no, which ok probably wouldn’t be said anyway, still it should always be a choice! But beyond that, what would he assume that meant for when he goes to leave?” She waved at Syria, “Like she says, would he think, For Ries?” she spat the last two words with such venom that Syria and Helena cringed back from her.
Georgia shook her head. “Excuses! Who cares what he assumes, it is up to you to set him straight! I think you’re still finding excuses hiding behind the same excuses as used from before. You know where those led. Is it really what you want now? Do those ideas really still serve you? You’re a grown woman, lay out the ground rules.”
Evita sarcastically spit out, “I was going to! Then he asked me how to get ahold of my father! What he might want in trade! Like I was a piece of meat to be bought! With no say in the matter at all!”
Georgia winced at this. “Ouch. Ok. His bad. Still, don’t you think it might be worth it to work on him rather than just throw it all away?”
Evita smashed the axe into another hapless piece of firewood with a bloodcurdling war cry, “Of course! Why do you think I am this mad?” Without another word, the axe fell again, and the three women quietly left her to vent.
Later, having heard what had happened, it was a small place after all. Hypathia of all people cautiously approached Evita. While animosity had cooled between them, there was still no love lost. Hypathia cleared her throat. “I know it isn’t my place to intrude,”
Before she could continue, Evita bluntly sa
id, “Then don’t”
Hypatia started to walk away, but then finally stopped. “I can’t. Miscommunication and misunderstanding caused a rift between us, and it is what it is going to be I suppose. It doesn’t have to be that way for him. I don’t know Magus Ries personally, mind you, but his actions follow a familiar pattern. He by all accounts approached you as he would any common woman, and was rejected and told it was scandalous. Only nobles or those particularly concerned with status would see it as such, so he asked for the needed information to approach according to their customs. I do not know what great secret method your people use for such matters, but before you judge him, you should tell him your customs. It could save,” she gave a light sniff, “everyone a great deal of trouble and embarrassment later.” Then she walked away without another word.
A very stunned Evita suddenly realized that she and Hypathia might just be, even after all.
New Year, New Start
Late at Night
Magus Ries was overwhelmed. It seemed everyone was aware of his personal humiliation with the very confusing Evita Young, but were being too polite to mention it directly and instead just dropping vague comments about patience and the trials of spirited headstrong women. Even his very serious meeting with Eli Davidson was tinged with the man’s faint, if mostly covert, amusement at the situation.
Thinking of his meeting with Davidson, Ries looked down at the small metal disk and gave a shudder. The boy, the child really who had put the hole so neatly in it had spoken rapidly and in most of the words were in English so he didn’t claim to fully understand it all, but the results were undeniable. He had figured out that “Kicks like a mule” referred to the apparent recoil of the contraption. Much like a catapult when released, he assumed. Even with the thickly padded shoulder on his tunic, he was still rubbing his shoulder, but it didn’t dampen his triumphant grin. What a “Kentucky Long Rifle” or “Steroids” were or why one would be on the other, he couldn’t sort out, but the noise was as if Zeus himself had released a thunderbolt and this tiny target no larger than his palm was struck from what he estimated was over two hundred paces away. With the tiny bolt going right through, though, this be as thick as any Hippolyte’s armor. It was a feat he doubted even the great high magi of the vast city empires of the mainland could match, yet the child did it with only mild discomfort to his shoulder. It was truly disturbing.
Oh, not to mention the wonders of the workshop! Such precision! A screw for moving water, sure, that had been done since the ancients, but for directing the cutting surface? Or for applying pressure of a press? Of presses! Their “Printing Press” alone was a miracle of miracles! He had hoped that the famed baths would clear his mind, but he spent the first half trying to puzzle out how the water flowed hot straight from the wall. Then one of the maids had brought in some fine soap. He had reached for her, but to his surprise she drew away from him, giggling. She had just said, “Better if we don’t, trust me on this.” and left the room. He wasn’t offended, it wasn’t that important, but who ever heard of slaves acting like that before? Besides, what did she mean better if we didn’t? He was still trying to sort through all of these things swirling in his mind like debris in the current after a storm when there was a soft knock on the door. Looking up, he saw Evita standing in the doorway, holding a small bundle. Her hair was down, and she wore a soft formless knit gown that, while modest by any definition he could call to mind, hung in such a way that it conformed to her natural curves in a way that made it difficult to concentrate.
In a soft voice she asked, “May I come in? I think we should talk.”
He found that his mouth was dry, and the words didn’t seem to want to come out as smoothly as they should, still he managed to stutter through, “Of course, I thought...” he trailed off realizing that after a day like today thinking wouldn’t be his strong suit.
She smiled as she sat down. “I,” she began and then hesitated and took a deep breath before continuing, “may have, I don’t want to say over reacted, but maybe reacted to what I heard you say, rather than what you were trying to say.” She let out a deep sigh. “Someone reminded me that we have different cultures, and that expecting you to abide by mine, without even knowing what mine is, is unrealistic. I wasn’t happy to be let in on that little secret,” she smile ruefully at him and was glad she only got a bit of a shy smile back, “because it meant I didn’t have the right to be mad at you. YET! and I had worked up so many good reasons to be mad at you too...” she trailed off a little wistfully. Giving him a slightly embarrassed smile when she heard him chuckle. “So here goes... Are you listening?”
“Attentively,” he said, the stupid grin back in place. Damn him, he did have to make it hard to stay mad, she thought.
“Good!” she said firmly. “No excuses afterward. Then I can be mad if I want to be without feeling bad about it!” she couldn’t maintain the stern look on her face as she heard his soft bark of laughter. Why did conversations with him have to be so enjoyable? “Where I come from, the woman gets to choose who she is with. Not her father, not anyone. A man needs to ask HER, nicely and with respect, after he’s earned the right, then if he’s really lucky, she says yes. It isn’t something done lightly, or to just be discarded when the man is bored. That is how it is done right!” she nodded her head firmly.
Ries favored her with a sidelong look. There was no way any society could function if this really was the way it was expected to function all the time. Women were such fickle creatures they would be continually inventing new ways to have men ‘prove’ their affections to coddle their various insecurities, still, he’d play along, this one was worth the games as long as they didn’t go too far, anyway. He smiled at her, “Seems a bit one sided,” he gave a thoughtful look and noticed the slightly crushed expression that came to her face and added quickly, “Though perhaps if all women are as amazing as you where you come from, it would be worth it.” he let the discussion drop there. Her concern had melted back away. He did actually like this one. She WAS different and impressive, if a bit impractical and a bit overly attached to some rather odd ideals. Ah well, people grew with time, perhaps in time they would find a mix that fit. “I promised you a gift the last time we met. Are you ready?” He asked with a smile.
Evita’s eyes narrowed slightly, and she looked at him. “Is this one of those gifts where you give it and suddenly I’m yours?”
Ries barked a laugh openly and then cringed, putting his hand over his mouth, not wanting to wake anyone. Seeing this she fought down gales of giggles as well, but the quirked an eyebrow at him as if to say ‘and’. He let out a soft sigh. With a hesitant nod he said, “By our customs, many would accept this gift as a rather extravagant, and given the personal effort and time that went into it, intimate such a gift.” he hesitated only briefly as if coming to some private conclusion before quickly adding, “However for YOU,” he stressed, “it is only a gift.” Seeing her look of wary hesitation he added with what he hoped was his most reassuring smile, though at the moment the disappointment he felt didn’t make that easy, “Truly.”
Her smile brightened the room. “Then I happily accept.” He stood, went over to his pack, and retrieved the small bundle. He unwrapped a white silk rose in full bloom. Having seen thousands of these in her own world, Evita tried to remind herself that here this would be rare are precious and that it was the thought that counted. All concern with faking appreciation vanished as he coaxed some of his magic into the flower, and it began to glow somewhat brighter than the lamp on the table. It was much like the light from an electric light back home, but somehow softer and warmer, and the flower wasn’t so bright as to hurt her eyes, she could clearly see it, yet it was also bright enough to light up the entirety of his small room. “It’s beautiful!” she gasped. He couldn’t help but smile. This was what he had been hoping for when he planned this project out. The hours spent, not to mention the cost involved, seemed worth it for the look of awe in her eyes. After a moment, she recovered
. She had a bit of a strange smile. He couldn’t really judge her thoughts, but she simply said “Thank you, I will treasure it. Now, I have made a gift for you as well...”
“Oh,” then with a grin he teased, “Is this the type of gift that you give and I belong to you?” he asked.
Not even missing a beat, she replied, “Of course, but for you, it is simply a token of my great respect and admiration.” Watching his eyebrows climb his forehead, she couldn’t stifle the giggle fit that broke loose. She silently chided herself. Pull it together Evita! What are you twelve talking to your first crush? Then with a more haute tone of voice she quipped, “See, that is how a gift is presented with grace, style, and class.”
Grinning madly now he found himself choking back laugher, “Well, how could I refuse then?” When she placed her bundle on the table. He pulled away the cloth wrapping and below was a clay box with an inlaid mother-of-pearl and simple polished shell. The hinges and latch that closed the little box were quite intricate, more of their amazing precision craftsmanship. Evita had stolen those hinges from the small medicine cabinet in the wreck's latrine, but she wasn’t about to admit their origins to Ries now, or likely ever. He looked up to see the eager anticipation on her face and tried to hide the confusion on his own as he opened the little box. Inside there were thirty-two little clay figures. Sixteen a reddish terra-cotta color that had been whitewashed with lime and sixteen more that had been coated in a tar, fired, then perhaps polished with a wax until they were a shiny black color. His confusion deepened. He didn’t want to say the wrong thing here. Were these the household gods of her people, perhaps? “They are extraordinary.” he finally settled on as the safest thing. He looked up, startled, as he heard her giggle.
World Wright Incorporated (World Wright Inc. Book 1) Page 14