Everything was familiar and then not, in this city. Naukratis was far different than Sais, and I felt a little lost among the conglomeration of races. There were so many people here. I prayed at least one vessel headed from Egypt.
I traded my cosmetics palette and mixing sticks for some beer, dried fish and bread, figuring I could smear kohl around my eyes with my fingertips. My mouth watered as I crouched by a trader of grapes, but I dared not snitch even the fallen ones. I did not want to be chased out of this city before I gained passage home, for then I truly would have nowhere to go.
I packed most of my food into my knotted peplos, contenting myself with only a few bites of bread. I needed a plan to get to Greece. First, I went to the docks, still leery of the thin Egyptian man, but the space where his barge had been moored was empty. A heavy weight lifted off my shoulders. I was safe.
I meandered between the traders and sailors, trying to find a vessel I could barter passage on. Tongues babbled in odd dialects, and everywhere was the noise of people. Cats streaked up and down the dock and slaves loading and unloading goods took care not to tread upon them, which is no easy feat with so many about. No wonder the rats kept a wide berth on the quays, preferring to infest the houses or cargo boats instead.
By afternoon, my head rang with the noise of the crowds. As the market began to shut down, I drew an irritated breath. I’d learned nothing about gaining passage to Greece. Worse, when the market cleared, the docks cleared as well. So, I trudged through the maze of streets and alleyways, pausing at familiar doorsteps here and there until I found my corner from the previous night. Hours crept by, as I crouched and swatted insects and ignored my groaning belly.
As evening fell, I shadowed a group of sailors as they ambled wearily to brothels and inns. Perhaps I could overhear who sailed towards my destination, as the men guzzled their beer and wine. The innkeeper eyed me as I padded up the narrow staircase. A few Egyptian girls trailed behind me, their eyes heavily lined with kohl and cheeks rouged so fiercely they almost appeared feverish in the dark interior. I envied them their well-fed forms and finery.
Foreigners supped and drank inside the tavern. The men at one table in particular stood out as quite unusual. They wore armor over their midsections, and all had long, dark locks that cascaded like a horse’s tail past their shoulders to their waists. One man had a young boy with him whose sole job, it seemed, was to care for his master’s hair. He brushed it out and arranged it, even at the table. The other men took no notice, but I thought the grooming to be quite out of place. They were obviously not from this country, nor any part of Greece that I could remember.
I tried to slip into the shadows, but the long haired man spotted me and motioned me over. “Here, girl,” he called in a heavily accented Egyptian.
The other men hooted and babbled in a tongue I did not recognize. One of them pulled his slanted eyelids into huge circles. The effect made hideous work of his brown, pockmarked face.
The long haired man called again. I did not wish to make trouble. The innkeeper jerked his chin at me, so I went.
“How much?” he asked in broken Egyptian.
His question angered me. Had I changed so little since Charaxus had freed me? Did I still look the part of a slave? Well, I suppose I did. Still, who was he to barter for me? I was not a common street whore! I was not one of those women who chased men for money!
I shook my head, but he repeated his question with more insistence. One of the Egyptian girls went to him and sat on his lap, glaring at me all the while. A second trod on my foot as she passed, though she moved as gracefully as the rest of her race and had no reason to stomp on my poor bared foot. I backed away, aware that this girl wished to encourage the man’s attention.
My retreat seemed to satisfy them for the time being, for they ceased to pay me any attention. I tried to listen to the conversation, but all too soon, the long haired man and the girl rose and went downstairs. He gave me a dark look as he passed and tightened his hold on the girl’s waist. I tried to melt into the shadows of the nearest corner, where I hoped to discover the ship that would sail me back to Greece.
The remaining patrons grew increasingly rowdy, and sweat trickled down my back. I realized just how precarious my situation was. Who would care if one of them should try to have his way with me? I was not such a fool then that I had forgotten the lessons of Young Iadmon. A man would have his dominance. I slipped away from the tavern feeling weak and lonely.
On my way out, I heard a grunt and shuffle from around the corner. I froze. There was a small cry and then nothing, save for the rustle of palm leaves in the breeze. I crept between the buildings, just in time to see the long haired man thrust his hips against the plaster wall. No, not the wall.
She was bent forward, her buttocks high in the air, while he mounted her from behind like the animals do. I heard her sigh. It had been a long time since I’d heard the sounds of desire. A budding tension coiled between my thighs as I watched them. I think it was the heat of the day, or the lack of food, but I was dizzy by the time they finished.
The long haired man withdrew and fished out a bauble from his robes. I could not see what it was, but the Egyptian girl rubbed her nose to his and straightened her skirts with a laugh. She clutched it to her chest and murmured, low and guttural.
Well, I would not be so low! I tried to picture myself trading such trinkets and sailing away to Thrace. It would not be such a bad bargain, but my flesh crawled at the thought.
*** ***
The next day I had even less luck finding passage home. The seas were rough, and there were fewer ships moored at the docks. I called and called to the sailors, but no one was headed out of Egypt. Two weeks, they told me. The harvest will be finished in two weeks and ships will sail from Egypt. It seemed an eternity to me, with hunger, thirst and fear shriveling my body. But I would wait. I had to.
The docks were well patrolled and I could not dig for cattail or papyrus bulbs to boil. I was so famished I could think of little else but how to fill my belly. I eyed my knotted peplos bundle, thinking of the rose-gold slippers. Surely they would be enough to trade for passage home. I parted with the last of my cosmetics, my precious, eye-protecting kohl, to buy some beer and bread. I’d not noticed, sheltered in Charaxus’ home, how much the kohl protected my light eyes from the glare of the sun and blowing grit. Out on the streets, my eyes watered and burned and I stumbled about like a blind drunkard.
To make matters worse, I was forced to trade away my last trinkets, a small tattered fan and a green faience cat, for a place to sleep. My corner had been discovered. Peacekeepers prodded me with staffs until I got up and moved. I wandered blearily through the moonlit streets, fear driving my weary steps until daybreak when I sank into the sandy marketplace and dozed for a few precious hours. During my nap, a thief tried to pry my knotted peplos from my grasp, but I woke and he ran off. I was too exhausted to shout for help. Besides, the peacekeepers would only ask me to move on.
I knew I would not last long without rest, so I bartered for two weeks’ space on a filthy hovel floor. I dared not leave my peplos there, for there were a number of unsavory characters, twenty of us in all, packed into a tiny, sweltering room. How different than the rented room I’d stayed in with Charaxus. I took to drowsing in the afternoon, instead of evening; there were fewer bodies crammed on the dirt floor.
The first week passed like grains of sand in the wind—timeless and dreary. My shoulders and forehead blistered from the sun’s rays. My stomach ached constantly for food, and my mouth was too dry to even wet my chapped, bleeding lips. Once, I went to drink from the shaduf, a bucket contraption that drew water from the Nile. After a few swallows of scummy, foul-tasting water, I left. That afternoon, my stomach rumbled audibly and my bowels turned to water. My limbs trembled and I was sick. I vowed not to drink of the river water again.
I went without food for the next three days, and my bowels stopped their cursed cramping. And then luck found me the n
ext morning. I overheard some sailors discussing a barge set for Cyprus on the next day. Cyprus was not so very far from Thrace. Infused with excitement, I dared to approach one of the sailors.
“Please,” I begged. “I wish to go to Greece. How much for a place on the barge.”
The men eyed me with interest. Their dark eyes traveled up and down the length of my body.
“You alone?” one asked. I did not like his tone, and although I counted them as dangerous, this was the best and perhaps only chance I might get to barter passage to Greece.
“I am a slave,” I lied. “My master, Charaxus of Mytilene, bids me come to him in Greece. H-he is waiting for me.” I forced my chin up a notch.
“Why does he not send a ship for you himself?” asked the other, stroking his whiskered chin. His eyes narrowed.
“He…he did. I was separated from our household. And…and now my master is ill. I must get to Greece. Please, I can pay.” My lies grew more convoluted by the minute. These men would surely see right through me.
The first man raised his brow at the other. “She says she can pay.”
“Show us then,” replied the other.
Did I dare to hope? Swiftly so they might not walk away, I unknotted the peplos and drew out my slippers. I saw their faces change from skepticism to disbelief to awe. The slippers were magnificent. They would believe me now.
“Fine,” said the first, wiping his hand over his cheeks. He threw a glance over his shoulder. “But we have no use for slippers. There is a trader who deals in goods at the end of the next street. You get the coin for these, and passage you shall have.”
Oh, great fortune! I thanked the men profusely before racing to the recommended trader. The men waved before heading towards a knot of sailors mending ropes near the docks. They gestured to me and grinned, no doubt telling their companions a place should be reserved for me. I strode down the street, filled with purpose, and scanned the signs for the trader’s mark.
The interior of the shop was cool and dark. It smelled of earth and metal. Piles of goods were stacked haphazardly--polished granite effigies, bronze baubles, bright blue and gold faience cosmetic pots, papyrus and hollow reeds, and some jewelry.
The trader was shrewd. He took one look at my ragged appearance and said, “Get out. I have no use for you.”
I cleared my throat. The merchants in Sais, well aware of Charaxus’ deep purse, had been quite accommodating. What a difference, now that I had only myself to rely on. Still, I remembered my lessons from haggling in Abdera. I must not appear overeager, or he would short my exchange. I straightened my shoulders and used my most graceful walk to draw near to him.
“I wish to trade.” I pulled out my slippers.
He blinked. “Stolen, no doubt,” he replied, crossing his arms over his chest.
“They are not, they are mine. See here!” I put the slippers on so he might see they fit me well. His eyes glimmered when I did a little dancing step. The bells on my slippers jangled and a wave of guilt and heartache took me. I stopped mid-position and let my hands fall to my sides. I’d been loved once, not by the man who made these, but by the one who purchased them. I took the slippers off and handed them to the trader.
He named a price that was obscenely low. I could be insulted and leave, but then I might never have another chance to barter for I knew no other traders.
“I’d heard you give an honest price.” I took back the slippers. He released them with slight hesitation. “I paid over three times that amount for them, from a craftsman to the Pharaoh himself! You will find nothing like them anywhere in Naukratis.”
“You are tall for a woman,” he said with a shrug. “And your feet are large. A buyer will not be easy to find.”
My feet were not large! I was taller than most Egyptians, true, but my feet were delicate compared to some I’d seen in the temple. His words were an attempt to cover his ridiculous offer under the guise of sensibility. Well, I knew how to barter.
“We shall see what the next trader has to offer, then. Perhaps his wife has large feet, too.” I moved towards the doorway, straining my ears for the sound of his voice, but he did not speak. A bead of sweat trickled down my forehead. Would he let me leave? Perhaps he really did not want the slippers? What was I to do now?
I took one step outside of his shop before he stopped me.
“Wait,” he called. I turned to see him shuffling after me. “Wait! I might’ve been mistaken. Ah, see! The sun shines here, and your feet are not half as large as I thought. My old eyes.” His eyes bulged and he blinked. I could not help but smile. We returned to the shop to haggle on a price.
In the end, he gave me much less than what Charaxus had paid, but I did not care. The sailors had marked him as fair, and so I hoped the coin he gave me was enough to satisfy them. I fidgeted as he counted out his offer, coin by coin.
I started back to the docks with the coins clutched to my chest. I ran as fast as I could through the alleyways and narrow side streets, avoiding the throng of the market and thinking all the while that tomorrow I would be closer to Thrace than I’d been in years. Something snagged my foot, and I tripped.
The coins flew onto the alley as I toppled face down. Quickly, I scrabbled in the sand for them, just as a foot stomped on my hands. I jerked it away with a yelp and looked up.
Three men stared at me, their mean eyes full of greed. I recognized them. They were companions of the two sailors who negotiated passage with me. I’d seen them in the crowd mending ropes.
“Tell them I’m coming,” I said, thinking they’d been sent to hurry me along. I nursed my sore fingers.
One of them grunted and hauled me up by the arm with a grimy, chapped hand. “Give ‘em over.” He jerked my arm.
A second man gathered up the rest of my fallen coins, while the third looked beyond us to the corner.
“Please,” I said. “I will take them now. If you just let me go, I will br-”
His hand clamped over my face. He shoved me back against the plaster wall and placed his other hand around my neck. Then he started to squeeze.
I could not breathe. His palm covered my mouth and his fleshy fingers smashed my nostrils. I squirmed, trying to get free, but he held me fast. The second started to look nervous.
“Give us the coins!” growled my attacker.
I shook my head as much as I could with his meaty palm holding me in place, and tried to kick him in the groin. He sidestepped and his fingers slipped off my nose. I gulped a mouthful of air before he clamped over my mouth again. My heartbeat pounded in my head. It felt as if my skull would burst.
He called for the others to search me and clamped his hand around my throat. Black fog clouded the edges of my vision. My lungs ached for air. I wheezed, trying to suck air between his fingers. The second man whispered a curse and pried my balled fists apart. His nails dug into my palms, like burrowing insects. One by one, he pilfered away my precious hopes.
When the all the coins were stolen, my attacker laughed. I gathered my strength and kicked him, this time connecting with his kneecap. He yelped and released me. My lungs felt like lead. I fell to my knees, gasping for air. The ground spun beneath me, and pounding pressure mounted behind my eyes. If I’d had anything in my stomach, I would have been sick.
“Someone approaches. We go, now!” called the third, who’d watched me with pitiless eyes. I heard the pounding of footsteps and dust sifted into the air. I pushed up to my knees, trying to stand. The sand burned my hands and stuck to my bloody scratches.
“Stay away from the docks,” my attacker threatened as he made his escape.
I could not let them rob me of my homeland!
As soon as I was able to follow, I went to the docks. My knees trembled, but I had to try. With no money, and nothing left to barter, my last chance rested on the ship bound for Greece in the morning.
The sailors were nowhere in sight. I walked up and down the docks and poked my head into the inns, but I did not find them. I c
hecked the long stone jetties and weedy fields along the river bank. I even went to the Egyptian whore house, but they would not let me in. So, I waited outside and scanned the face of every man until I could not see their faces, even by the faint light of the crescent moon.
I stumbled to my rented, stinking hovel and crawled into a miserable ball. Then I cried. I’d lost my dearest treasure--my rose-gold slippers. I’d bartered them for passage home, and even that had been stolen from me. What would I do now? How would I survive?
In the blackness, a voice echoed in my memory. Live free. Live free.
I would. I swore I would.
Tomorrow, I would rise before the sun and go to the ship. I would demand passage from those treacherous brutes. They could steal my coin, but they could not take my spirit.
Chapter Twenty One
I went to the docks the following morning, well before daylight broke over the sand dunes to the east. A group of sailors gathered there. My knees trembled, but I searched for the pair who had promised me passage. At last, I found them, lounging near the jetty.
“You promised me passage,” I said to them. “But your companions stole my coin before I could pay it.”
“Do you recognize this woman?” one asked the other. The second picked at his teeth and looked me up and down.
“No,” he said. “I’ve never seen such a sorry creature before.”
“You have!” I protested. My heart raged with injustice. Just then, I saw a familiar man swagger down the gangplank. His mean eyes widened when he saw me. It was the man who’d kept watch in the alley.
He whistled over his shoulder. A flock of sea birds shrieked in the distance and the faces of my two attackers popped over the edge of the ship. They’d cheated me. This pair had set me up and stolen my livelihood.
HETAERA: Daughter of the Gods Page 24
