by E J Pay
He kisses my fingers again and again, my heart swelling and falling more and more with each touch. Then finally he sets my hand down and looks at me.
“Athena,” he says, “may I kiss you?” I am his servant. For him to ask for my kisses is unnecessary. He could take whatever he wanted without punishment. I would not be the first servant girl to be taken by her master. But that is not like Gileaus. He is gentle and he is kind and he is respectful. He cares for me and wants my happiness.
I think of his lips touching mine. But as soon as I imagine them brushing my face, I see bubbles and fish and water and steam. I see the faces of two other boys. One has skin so fair, he must come from the north. The other is dark like a Grecian, but his hair is so light it is confusing. Who are they? Why am I seeing them? There is so much Gileaus does not know about me. I am not who he thinks I am. I am not who I have told him I am. I am sick inside and suddenly light-headed.
“I…I…” I stammer instead of answering him. Gileaus just smiles and touches my cheek with his hand.
“Not tonight, then,” he says. “We can give it time.” He kisses my fingers again. “You are a very special young woman, Athena. I am more grateful to you than you can possibly know.”
I smile at him and nod my respect. I stand and head to my room. My head spinning in circles. My heart unsure of the future.
Chapter 21
Iwake in a fog this morning. My dreams were peppered with images of those boys, kissing them both, and of Gileaus. My mind is swirling as I stand and get ready for the day. I have promised Gileaus I will talk to his father. He doesn’t believe it will do much, but he is willing to humor me. I know it will change everything.
When the breakfast is ready for the family, I take the separate tray of food to Spiro’s room. He is rarely up early enough to eat his first meal with his family. The only time he is in the dining room this early is when he doesn’t go to bed. But last night, he capped his drinking off early enough to make it to his room.
I knock on his door and hear him mumble inside. I open the door slowly, peeking around the edge to make sure he is dressed. Spiro is still in his bed with the covers strewn all over the place. His nightdress is a mess, but everything is covered. His manservant has not yet been in to dress him. I will have a few moments alone to work on him then.
I breathe a sigh of relief and step in with the tray of eliopsomo bread and ellinikos coffee. Spiro stirs as I set the aromatic tray on his nightstand. He opens his eyes and struggles to see what is in front of him. Once he registers who is there, he lays back on his pillow and coughs.
“My dear girl,” he gets out between fits of coughing, “it is far too early for food. Take it away. I will enjoy it later I am sure.”
“But, sir, you must get up now and eat. You have much to do today.” I send waves of curiosity into Spiro’s mind, urging him to ask questions and have an interest in his life today.
His eyes open a fraction and he peers at me through his lashes. “What do you mean, my girl?” he asks, “What have I to do with the day?”
I smile and keep the curiosity flowing. “You have meetings with your political friends today, sir. They are eager to hear the news of your reformation.”
“Reformation?” he asks as he sits himself up. “What reformation? I know of no such thing.”
“Oh, but you do, sir,” I tell him, sending confidence to his thoughts. “You came up with it yourself last night.”
“What did I come up with? I don’t remember coming up with anything!” Spiro is growing agitated and confused. I direct a visual along with my words and confidence. The quiet and otherwise empty room help me hold my concentration. So much is riding on my success.
“You told Master Gileaus, sir. Last night after you finished your evening meal. You told him you wanted to reform yourself sir.”
“Reform myself?!” he exclaims. Then he settles softly into his pillow. “Yes, I…I do remember something about that,” he whispers. I send him images from my mind, conjuring a memory for him that was never there.
“Yes, sir,” I continue, “you told Gileaus that you were going to let go of your drinking.”
Spiro’s face snaps up to mine, his eyes wide and worried. “I did say that to him! I did promise my boy I would not touch the alcohol anymore.” Spiro looks into the space before his face, trying to see something that is not there. “But how do I stop?” His voice is a whisper again. “I’ve heard of men who try to give it up! They go stark raving mad!” He is on the verge of screaming. I send soft clouds of comfort and confidence to him.
“But you are no ordinary man, sir,” I say to him. “You can do extraordinary things. And you don’t have to do them alone. I can help you.”
Spiro moves his eyes slowly to mine. “You?” he asks. “You would help me? But why… and how?”
The ‘why’ of that question lives in the same house as Spiro and calls him father. The ‘why’ is Gileaus. I am willing to lay myself open to discovery if it means bringing comfort to him. I am doing this to protect him. To help him. To make him happy.
“I have a certain knowledge of herbs and powders that will help ease you out of the worst of the pain and hallucinations. It will be difficult, sir, but it is possible. You can overcome this thing.”
Spiro looks into my eyes with fear. I send him more comfort and more confidence in me. I am not lying. It will be a difficult road. But with my help, it can be done.
∞ ∞ ∞
“Athena! Athena!” Gileaus is calling to me from across the courtyard. I leave the bread I have just finished baking, wipe my hands, and walk toward him. When I reach Gileaus, his face is bright and his hair is wild. He is in high spirits, excited about something.
“What is it, Master Gileaus?” I ask of him. He shakes his head and furrows his brows.
“I’ve told you to just call me Gil,” he says with a frown.
“How am I to do that, sir?” I ask. “I am your servant. If I am familiar with you in front of the other servants, there is no telling what could happen. Soon, everyone will be calling your mother and father by their given names and demanding greater wages. Your family will go broke and I will be forced to find work somewhere else to support the both of us.”
Gileaus smiles and shakes his head at me. He takes me by the shoulders and pulls me to him. My heart is already racing, but Gileaus is quick. He doesn’t give me time to think. His lips meet mine in a tender, sweet, smiling kiss. When he pulls away, his eyes are shining and his smile is broad.
“You are a very special human being, Athena,” he says while he brushes my hair away from my face. “I don’t know what you said to convince father, but he just came to me to talk about his plans for reformation. He is promising to give up drinking.” I smile, pleased that my Gileaus is happy. “What did you say to him?” he asks.
“I just told him that it was important to you and that he was strong enough to do it,” I answer.
Gileaus shakes his head again. “I’m not sure I believe that is all you said, but you have convinced him that he should and can do this thing.” He kisses me again, briefly. “There is so much hope for my future, Athena. Because of you, I finally have hope.” He kisses me again, longer this time. It is just the two of us. No images of nameless boys running through my mind. Just me. Just my Gileaus. Out in the sunshine of the courtyard where anyone can see.
∞ ∞ ∞
Making it through the first week of Spiro’s recovery is agonizing and difficult. He asks for me constantly, so I am always with him. Gileaus is often there, but has to take over certain duties on the estate until his father is able to do so again. I have done what I can to coax healing and pain relief from the herbs in the garden and fields, but Dom was so much better with the plants than I am. My heart aches for him and I have to take a moment to calm the tears that run, unbidden, down my cheeks. I breathe in the scent of lavender near me and regain my composure. Though I am not as skilled as my brother, I am able to make enough hot drinks, cold c
ompresses, and aromatic incense to bring Spiro out of the worst of his withdrawals.
While I care for her husband, Rhea is seeing to the necessary changes in the household. The many hiding places Spiro has around the house are raided. Rhea knows every single one of them. She finds the bottles and jars and pours them all ceremoniously into the garden. Each vessel is washed and cleansed until it no longer smells of the alcohol. The containers that will not lose their smell are broken and buried or given away. The cooking alcohol is given a new home in a cupboard with a lock and servants and family are told to not offer alcohol to Spiro.
“He is making a reformation,” I hear Rhea say to her friend and fellow politician’s wife. “He is determined to make a new man of himself.”
I am glad to hear that she has also bought fully into the idea of her husband’s healing. I haven’t had to use any mind manipulation on her. Her faith in the process is enough to keep her strong.
Spiro is another story. Despite my efforts with the herbs and remedies, he still struggles against the pain of withdrawal. He is haunted by hallucinations and I do my best to morph those into something of value. I send him images of what his future could be. I show him his wife, happy to be at his side. I show him his children, proud to call him father. I show him his friends, glad for their friend who has made such a change. I show him images of himself, strong and happy in his decision.
But I cannot be always with him. Nights are the worst. He has nightmares and terrors a few days into his withdrawal. I am awakened multiple times each night to come and tend to him. I see what plagues his mind. He is haunted by his past. Haunted by the people he has wronged. He is haunted by the choices he has made and the infidelity he has lived in. His mind is on fire with regret. Each time I am brought to him this way, I work to ease him back to sleep. I coax him with the beautiful dreams of tomorrow, but I am left seeing the terrors he was dreaming.
But it has been three nights since I have been awakened. Spiro’s mind has calmed and his body is free again. He treats me like a goddess and tells anyone who will listen that I saved him. The praise is nice, but after a few days I convince him to calm that portion of his memory. I don’t want or need the attention.
Spiro never regains the memory of how I came to be a servant in his house. I tell him that he brought me here for my knowledge and skills. I have been treated well here and am falling for his son. I have no desire to leave. Spiro is willing to believe me, so I leave it at that, wondering how many of the servants here were brought the same way I was. The black and silver cat has taken to sleeping in my room.
Gileaus has me into his room more frequently. We eat, we talk, we kiss. Time passes and we are both growing older. Gileaus wants more from our relationship.
“Marry me,” he whispers into my hair one night.
I pull away from his embrace, tears filling my eyes and a knot growing in my stomach.
“I can’t,” I say.
“Why not?”
“I am your servant. It is impossible for you to marry someone in my station.”
“Athena, you saved my father’s life. I am the son of a wealthy nobleman who stands to inherit everything his father has. I have enough power and you have enough of my family’s affection to make a marriage possible.”
I shake my head and my heart pulses wildly within me. Why can’t I marry him? I haven’t thought of escape since the first time I saw Gileaus. I may be a servant in this house until I die. Why not marry the man I love? But a burning inside tells me that escape is still possible - that I must try to run. I still have a mission to fulfill. Marrying this boy will end that mission for me and lead trouble to his doorstep. I don’t know the mission and I don’t know my future, but I cannot bring myself to hurt Gileaus.
“Please, Gil,” I say, “if I honestly thought it were possible, I would marry you today. But there is too much between us.”
“Do you not want to marry me?” he asks through tender kisses. “I thought you loved me.”
“I do love you,” I assure him. “I love you more than I ever thought possible.” I kiss his lips, running my fingers through his wavy black hair. He holds me close to him and whispers into my ear again.
“I love you, Athena. I want you to be my wife. I want you by my side to turn the estate around. I want your guidance and your counsel when I work with the elder politicians. I want you to be my partner in life. I want to know you are by my side in everything, every day, and every night.”
I cannot stop the tears pouring out of my eyes. I lift my head and hold his face in my hands, forcing his eyes to see into mine. What I would give to show him everything about me, but that puts us both at risk. I have lost so much already because of who I have become. I cannot see that same ruin come to him.
“I don’t understand, Athena.” His eyes are filled with tears and pleading. “It is time in life for me to marry. I don’t want anyone else by my side. You are my equal, Athena. How can I lead without your steadying hand? How can I create a life and a family with anyone else? No one else could be the rock that I need to survive. Please, Athena. Please.”
He whispers the last word into a kiss. I stay in his embrace, feeling myself melting into him. I let go of my worries and fears for a moment and let my heart dream of what our life could be: children, a home of our own, making a difference in the world. I see all of it.
He sees it too.
I haven’t been careful with my thoughts. I wanted so much to share with him that I have actually done it. Gileaus pulls away from my face slowly and looks into my eyes.
“Who are you?”
His question is a whisper, but it stings like a knife. He has seen what I meant to keep hidden. I have to get away. I cannot stay and endanger him.
I run from his room, determined to find a way out of his life.
Chapter 22
It isn’t easy to avoid Gileaus for the next several days. I have started finding jobs to do. I start early each morning, preparing the daily meals well before anyone else is awake. I clean everything I can find long after everyone is sent to bed. Whenever I am told that Master Gileaus wants to see me, I persuade the person to tell him they cannot find me. Whenever I hear him coming, I hide.
I am eating little and listening much. I cannot run if I have nowhere to go. I strain to hear every word the servants say. If there is any news of jobs on other estates or a caravan traveling through, I want to know. When I cannot hear what they are saying, I find my way into their minds to learn what they know. I get a whole lot more than what I bargained for this way. If I were a lesser person, I could easily use what I know against them, against anyone. I could bribe and blackmail my way into any position. Theft, affairs, secret plans to harm each other. I see all of it. I see it and I am glad I haven’t developed many lasting relationships with the people here. The people I am closest to are Gileaus and Namaah.
Namaah senses that I am in distress. She tries multiple times to get me to talk to her, to let her know what is happening in my mind and in my heart. But with each attempt, I shake my head, unwilling to break my silence. Maybe that is what happened to Namaah. Maybe she loved and lost, too, and that is why she never speaks. Maybe she is protecting someone.
Days turn into weeks and Gileaus leaves to stay a few days in his sister’s house. I am relieved to not have to work so hard to avoid him. I hear of a caravan of performers traveling through the area. Perhaps I can find a way into their group.
Tonight, the servants have a night off. Many are heading out to see the traveling performers camped nearby. Some are pairing off in the wilderness outside the estate. The remaining family is on a trip to the coast. This is my chance to escape.
My bag is packed with the few items I own. I take some of the food I have made for my journey and add it to my bag. I will not steal anything of value from this family, though I could certainly feel justified. All I want is a clean break - a chance to get away with as little harm as possible. I want memories of love with me as I run.
I leave my room once the house is silent and tiptoe to the outer door. Once I am outside, I keep my eyes and ears open, ready to hide myself and my traveling bag if anyone sees me. After half an hour of walking, I am finally to the outer gates of the estate. I haven’t been this far since I first arrived and I have no idea what is on the other side of that wall.
The tall, dry grass scrapes at my exposed ankles and I open the gate to the outside world. I remember vividly the day I first arrived here and how the dry grass scratched the bottoms of my feet. I let the sensation run through me as I reach up to lift the latch on the gate. A crunching sound echoes in the night behind me. A footstep. I pause and listen and its owner pauses and listens, too. I cannot tell where the sound came from. I look around me but see no one. I have to get out and get out now. I have to run.
I ignore the pounding in my chest and I reach for the latch again, this time determined to lift it no matter what. I grasp the iron handle, lift it with all my strength and the door swings open. The cool breeze of freedom brushes my face and neck and hair. I breathe it in and step toward its promise.
A hand reaches my wrist before my foot steps outside. I pull like mad to get free, but the grasp is iron. I look to my captor and look straight into the face of the man I love.
“Gileaus, what are you doing?”
“I was going to ask you the same thing.”
“Your family is traveling. The servants have taken the night off. I was going to explore outside the estate.”
