Tericles grabbed her veil and ripped it from her body. Her eyes glared at the slave trader, but she still looked proud and stood tall as if dressed as a queen, making no attempt to hide herself. Long hair, black as night, flowing down her back was the first thing Orestes noticed. Walking around her as if surveying the goods, like any buyer, he couldn't help but take in her striking features. The woman should have been a model for the statues of Athena, goddess of war. Nothing of her figure spoke of idling around a house. She bore scars like his, from fighting. Spartan perhaps, as he reached the far side of her, he caught sight of her arm covered by a winding tattooed vine. The marks of a soldier, but not a Greek one, they used no such markings. Tall and lean, her rope like muscles, belied her active lifestyle, but the exercise did not diminish the size of her breasts. No archer then, they would have gotten in the way. Above and below the elbow, fine gold bracelets decorated around her arm mimicking the winding tattoo. They were all she had been left with, they were delicate enough they would have been destroyed in their removal.
Ilias, Orestes’ youngest brother at sixteen years old, stopped behind Orestes. “Help her, Orestes.” His whisper low so no one else heard him.
"A younger brother, I take it. She would be a fine teacher before he marries and a fine mistress for you.” Tericles announced.
"Give her back her clothes, I've seen enough. But if I'm buying her for my brother, can you assure me that she is untested by the likes of you? I would hate to think of my brother getting whatever you have picked up on your travels."
They feigned shock at the accusation as Orestes heard his brother gasp behind him. “I assure you we have not touched her since she came into our possession. Before that we will make no claims since she was not under our control. You never know about those Politicians’ daughters, anything to cause trouble."
Orestes looked over at the woman as she finished covering herself. “What price are you asking?"
"Only the debt her father sold her for.” They announced a sum. Orestes frowned. No shame showed on her face, only hatred. He didn't blame her.
"Which I assume was quite great and then of course, there is your fee for handling the deal."
Tericles and Herakles looked at each other for a moment. Perhaps realizing Orestes wasn't as naïve as they thought. “Are a Politician's debt ever small? She is more than worth the price we ask.” Herakles answered, a slight waver to his voice.
"Oh by the looks of her, she is worth more than the two of you put together. But do tell me, why is such a man selling off his daughter? He may have to pay her dowry, but there is prestige to gain in marrying her to a good family. There are other ways to pay off a debt, especially for the rich.” Orestes saw a slight grin appear on the face of the girl. She obviously enjoyed watching her captors squirm.
"We are selling quality goods, I assure you. You will be the envy of all your neighbors with a Greek slave that was once rich."
"And why would such a man tattoo his Greek daughter in the manner of the Phrygians? You are not a Greek Politician's daughter are you?” Orestes asked her directly. The quick movement of her head to look at Orestes showed him, she did not expect to be spoken to.
"Of course not,” she answered.
"You...” Tericles yelled, but Orestes grabbed his hand before he could hit her. Although the man struggled, Orestes held fast. “I will buy her, but we are going to negotiate the price. I am not paying some made up debt just to line your pockets. Now, again, what price are you asking?"
A much lower sum was offered this time, probably owing to the fact that Orestes squeezed quite hard. The sweat slid down Tericles forehead readily.
"Ilias, go get the money.” Orestes ordered when he heard. When Ilias returned, the deal completed quickly as a multitude of coins traded hands. Many less than the traders first wanted as Orestes still held tight to the man's hand. The two visiting brothers remained on the doorstep as if expecting to be invited in for breakfast. Orestes did not feel in a favorable mood.
"You have a long journey back to wherever you bought her,” Orestes announced after letting her pass by him into the house. He closed the door firmly in the trader's faces.
"Orestes, how could you? I said help her, not buy her for me.” Ilias cried.
"Ilias, go find her some clothes and wake Sofi. Have her get the extra room ready."
"What is Mother going to say?” The boy whined.
"That this woman could have ended up with worse Masters than us. Go do as I ask."
Ilias glared at his brother before running off.
Orestes asked her to follow him into a courtyard bathed in the Greek sun. Doric columns carved with Acanthus leaves held up the roof over the walkway. A simple pediment overhead on all four sides ran around a pool in the center that caught the rainwater. The courtyard boasted many flowers and plants. Several stone benches provided seating, a table sat between two of them. In the corners of the courtyard, stood several pottery jars of enormous size painted with scenes of battles. She settled on one side of the table when he asked her to, with the flowers’ scent floating around her. The courtyard looked beautiful. A beautiful house, too, for being so far from anything. It belonged in a grand city. She looked over the frescoes decorating the wall, many depicting battles as fine as any she'd ever seen. Orestes sat so long, chin resting on his folded hands, she started to worry.
For the first time, she really looked at him. She saw a well-built man with large arms and a broad chest, no doubt from working in the vineyard. Not an ounce of fat could be found on him, unlike the two she had just been purchased from. His black hair, thick and wavy, one lock kept falling across his forehead. He swept the hair back into place. His face, deeply tanned from working in the sun, matched the rest of him. He could have come from any statue of the gods she had seen. Orestes struck her as extremely handsome. Of course, his brother had been also. Looking confident in himself, he sat there seeming to know he did not have to worry about anyone bothering him. Except maybe the women, but he didn't look vain about that either. After what seemed an eternity, he raised his head and looked at her with dark eyes.
"You will not be a slave in the house, but at least for now, I have to ask that the sum be worked off. You will earn what the laborers earn that we hire at harvest. It is the end of the year before the harvest when funds are at the lowest. We can not afford to not get something for the money we have spent."
Her mouth opened and closed at words she never expected to hear. Finally, she found her voice. “You have no slaves here?"
"Between me and the rest of the family, there are enough here that we get all what needs to be done, completed. As I mentioned though, we do hire extra hands at harvest."
"And just what work am I to do?” Her eyes narrowed, had he forgotten his words at the door?
He laughed. “We are wine makers and it takes many hands to accomplish the task. There will be more than enough work for you, without having to come to our beds. That is, unless you wish to do so.” Orestes grinned at her. She could not help, but start laughing. Sofi came to the door, a pretty girl with the coloring of her brother. The whole family so far looked much like Orestes. All could have been statues of the gods.
"The room is ready and I have gotten some extra clothes out. They are on the bed when you wish to change."
"Come, I will show you to your room."
She followed him through the elaborate house. They have money, but why no slaves? Maybe this part of Greece did things differently. She was far from the dictates of the city-states. While traveling captive, she sighted shepherds with thousands of sheep and goats. A lake lay, at most, only half a mile away. Even though her captors did not tell her, she realized they traveled practically to the northern edge of Greece. It looked an absolutely beautiful place to live, she admitted to herself. Orestes opened a door to reveal a well-furnished room. Not the corner of a room, perhaps shared with many others, as she expected for a servant or a slave. It was a room fit for of one of the famil
y.
"I will be outside when you are ready and then I will show you around. What is your name, by the way? As you have heard, I am Orestes."
"Kybele."
* * * *
Kybele emerged shortly, interrupting the last of an argument between Orestes and Ilias. It only ended when Orestes told him of what he informed her of earlier.
"Then, she is not for me?"
Orestes smiled at his brother. “No. She will work as the rest of us do."
"Thank the gods. I do not think I could have owned anyone. But what will Mother say of this?"
"I told you, she is free. Do not worry, I will tell mother about it. Go and have your breakfast. Sofi will have already told everyone that there is someone new about."
"Thank you, Orestes.” He ran off and Orestes turned to her.
"Ready for a tour or do you want breakfast first? I figured they probably had not fed you."
"Maybe just a little. I have not had much to eat lately."
Orestes pulled his hand from behind his back holding some bread and wine. “I thought so. If you do not mind, you can eat while we walk.” He showed her about the entire property. Walking, the boundaries, Orestes spoke of the neighbors on each side. Suggested the, daughters Kybele could become friends with if she wanted and, sons who might come courting her at night. Talking her through what work needed to be done and at what time of the year, he made Kybele feel quite at home. When finished with the tour, he took her to the mountain top above the house. It overlooked the lake, giving a view of the entire area.
"Do you mind my asking what happened?"
"My father was a trader. He traveled here with his wares often and I came with him, which is how I know your tongue. You are right, I am a Phrygian. Those men bought me from the Romans who captured me."
"No one ever tried to take the gold off your arm?"
She smiled. “They tried that and more, but they soon regretted it and gave up. Those men thought that your father would buy me because he was soft hearted and sentimental. Why would they think that?"
"The same reason I bought you. You will see the reason at supper.” For the rest of the day, Orestes allowed her to roam around and just look at where she would live during the near future. She spent much of her time on the mountain top just getting used to it all. After all, Kybele had prepared herself for the buyer to treat her no better than the women at the bathhouses.
* * * *
That night at supper the family all stopped and stared as Orestes walked in with Kybele. All four of his brothers, and his two sisters were there, along with his mother. They all heard of her during the day, but only a few saw her. The women wore loosely folded himation, a long shawl, draped over their longer chitons. The men wore longer chitons as well. They may not have worn much for work, but for dinner they dressed. Despite being fully covered, Kybele felt under-dressed next to them. Melasandros was the second oldest, two years younger than Orestes’ twenty-six. Then came Nicias who was twenty-three. Sofi was twenty-one, the oldest of the girls. Demitrios was twenty, Aeneas came next at eighteen, then Ilias at sixteen and finally the last, the youngest girl at fifteen, Marina. The three brothers who had not yet seen her practically fell over.
"I guess someone forgot to tell them you were beautiful,” Orestes whispered.
"I am not exactly dressed for dinner, but as for being beautiful, they see your sisters all the time. All of you could be one of the gods."
Orestes grinned. “Yes, but you are not related. Do not worry about your clothes. We will get you something suitable for dinner soon. We have a trip to sell the wine before the end of the month."
"Boys, please stop staring. You will make the girl feel unwelcome,” Helene, their mother, announced as she walked over and led Kybele to the table.
As she sat next to Helene, it was easy to figure out why they did not believe in slaves. She had reddish brown hair that just started to gray and green eyes. Her skin lighter than her children's as well. Kybele would have thought nothing of it as the Greeks prized the lighter coloring. Except half-hidden under her hair on her forehead, Helene had the brand of a slave, an owl in this case, the mark of Sparta. It looked a crude mark that some, cruel enough, put on those they owned and in turn, disfigured a very handsome woman. Kybele's, at least, was artful, and to her people, beautiful.
* * * *
The next morning, Kybele woke with the sun shining on her face and the sounds of Orestes already awake in the next room. She dressed quickly and went out to start working off her price. She worked in the vineyards, worked in the fields growing the food, helped with the harvest, helped make the wine, helped cook and clean. Whatever needed doing, Kybele attended to. None ever made her feel like a slave though.
"Kybele, would you care to go for a walk with me?” Melasandros asked trying to covet her favors..
When Nicias found her, he had another approach. “There was a traveling peddler, Kybele, which had cloth for sale. I bought this for you. You do like it, don't you?"
Even Ilias remembered the words her captors used, although it seemed to take him a few hours to work up the courage to approach her. “Ummm, Kybele, I know Orestes freed you but when he bought you, it was as a teacher for me. I am past the age Orestes was his first time."
No, they didn't treat her like a slave. The boys treated her as if Orestes bought her to warm all their beds.
Kybele picked up a sword left lying on the table. The feel of it in her hand brought back the memories of her father dying. Her eyes closed, trying to force the vivid memory out of her mind. Arms suddenly slipped around her, snapping her eyes open in surprise, Kybele stiffened.
"Let me take that from you before you hurt yourself.” Demitrios’ voice rumbled in her ear.
"Let go of me.” Kybele growled.
"Well if you are so determined to learn, then I will show you how to hold it properly.” One of Demetrious’ hands went for the sword but the other slipped up her thigh, raising her chiton with it.
The memories flooded back and she spun, the sword at his neck, held quite correctly. “I said let go of me.” She ordered, he reached up as if to take the sword from her. Her words fell out sharply. “Don't even try. You will lose your head and you won't be the first."
Demitrios opened his eyes wide frozen in place.
"Demitrios, get out of here now,” Orestes ordered from the doorway and the younger man bolted.
Walking slowly up behind her, she soon felt Orestes breath on her neck.
"If you have it in your head to fight, then fight me. Take your anger out on me, not some boy too horny for his own good.
Kybele turned her head to meet his gaze. The look Orestes gave wasn't like his brothers but what it did mean, she couldn't tell. Slowly he ran his hand down her arm and his hand closed around the sword, nothing more. Kybele kept her grip on the hilt as he tried to take it and found her back tight against him, all of him.
Her mouth opened to speak but Helene's call filled the air. “Orestes, there is a man here about the sheep we wanted."
"Coming,” Orestes called.
* * * *
The view from the mountaintop encompassed all directions. The sun glowed fiery red as it sank beyond the horizon. Her hair was braided and coiled before being held in place with a ring of bronze, the last two feet snaking down her back. It was the first time she had worn it like before she was taken. It was not a Greek style, she knew it made her stand out. Kybele had been there weeks, daily working, and nightly fighting off four of the brothers.
"You shouldn't be out this near dark."
Kybele spun around at the sound of his voice, she never heard Orestes walk up behind her. Orestes, never laid a finger on her. He'd never said an inappropriate word. “I know how to take care of myself,” she said.
Orestes grinned. “That part is obvious, but still the road that passes here is not well traveled, we have problems with thieves all the time. Whether you can use a sword or not, enough men and, even an Amazon will s
uccumb eventually."
There was nothing to do but stare. “How long have you known?"
Orestes laid out on the large rock that jutted from the plateau. Hands behind his head, he looked as if he would just take a nap. “The day I bought you. I thought maybe you were Spartan, until I saw the tattoo."
"You find it funny to buy a warrior to keep as a slave?” Kybele growled at the sight of his smile.
"You are free, Kybele. You may return home whenever you wish. I ask you to stay through harvest, a favor for buying your freedom. You are not a slave."
"I could just walk away?” The only sound the birds overhead.
"If you wish."
"And what will your brothers do if I went? You saw how they have been since I got here?"
Orestes laughter filled the air. “What will they do? They will let you go.” He stood, putting him at her eye level and only inches apart. “Shall I have some food packed for you on your journey home?"
Home. The thought hit her hard again, home was gone. She had nothing and leaving here would mean little more than being taken captive again. He was right, eventually even an Amazon could be overpowered. “I owe you the price you paid for me. When it is paid off, I will leave.” He freed her because his mother had been a slave, but why would he let her stay on as a free woman. At least as a bound servant, she had a roof and food without the chance of the Romans or even other Greeks taking her to sell again.
"You are not a slave."
"How much do the workers you hire make? You said that yourself."
"You will be here for years if you plan on paying it off that way."
"Then I will be here years.” Kybele took his hard gaze without flinching. Why did she ache to touch him? Her fingers itched to reach over and follow the trail of sweat inching down his chest. Five brothers all beautiful, four made themselves clear they would love to have her. Orestes, showing no desire toward her, became the one she couldn't get out of her mind. “This is when I would expect you to tell me that one night in your bed and it would be paid off."
Romp Fantasy Digest Page 13
