by Lisa Shea
Ramsey puffed up with pride. “I’ll have you know that I have two licenses as well.”
I could see now where this was going. I glanced back toward the half-open door. Anna was crouched down in the shadows – and was that a pair of Mounties alongside her?
Hope rose within me. I knew well the boastfulness of some of the miners here in Dawson City. It was time to do my part.
I moved to Ramsey’s side. Confusion creased my brow. “I don’t understand. You are one person. How could you have two claims?”
He glanced at Sofia. “These dumb locals don’t know a thing, do they.”
She shrugged. “They’s not educated like we is.”
He reached over to his jacket and unzipped the inner pocket. He laid out the papers. “See, I have them right here. One is in my proper name. The other is in a second name. Robert Argento.”
Sofia purred in appreciation. “You are a real man. I just knew it. Two mining licenses! Think of all the gold you can claim with that!”
I let my face shadow, and I scuffed my foot into the hay. “I must be really stupid. You’re just one person. How does having two licenses do you any good?”
He looked at me as if I were a toddler barely off her mother’s breast. “The damned Canadians are being strict about who can mine what claim,” he explained. “They were trying to keep all Americans out of Yukon entirely for a while! Luckily our government wouldn’t stand for that. So now, with so many Americans streaming across the border, the Canadians put on ridiculous restrictions. Every person can only stake a single claim. One person, one claim.”
He held up the papers and his grin grew. “Two people, two claims.”
My eyes widened in understanding. “So the more names you can gather, the better!” I looked over at Sofia. “What if Sofia, Anna and I let you use our names? Could you then have five claims?”
His mouth nearly salivated with greed. “Yes. Yes, I could.”
Sofia snuggled against him. “And you’d take good care of us, with all that gold, right?”
“Of course,” he promised, his eyes still glowing. “The best care in the world. Eggs every morning. Fine silks to wear out every evening.”
I let my shoulders fall. “But we could lose it all if this Robert man comes back, right? He could take it all away from us. Everything we’ve worked so hard to earn.”
Ramsey shook his head, his mouth growing into a wide smile. “Oh, don’t worry, ladies, that will never happen.”
Sofia’s face glowed with excitement. “Did you do it right? Did you take care of him permanently?”
He nodded, satisfaction shining from him. “A pick axe in the back,” he proclaimed. “Clear through him. The man’s a corpse, and the wolves have carried him off by now. He’ll never be found.”
Anna poked her head in at the door. “I found a whole case of gin! Sofia, come help me carry this in.”
Sofia stood, taking my hand. “Come lend a hand, honey. The more the merrier!” She turned back to Ramsey. “You just relax there. Let us take care of everything.”
He put his arms behind his head. “I could get used to this.”
Sofia twined her fingers into mine, and we moved to the opening.
There were now four Mounties there, and they let us pass with a satisfied nod.
Then they stepped in and closed the door behind them.
I turned –
Robert was standing there, weaving in place.
I immediately moved to him, slipping my arm beneath his and helping him to sit against the stable wall. “You should be in bed!”
“I couldn’t let you face him alone,” he insisted. “What if something happened to you?”
Anna shook her head. “We had four of Canada’s finest right there watching over us. You barely survived the attack!”
He shook his head. “I needed to be there.”
I gave him a gentle hug. “And you were. But there was no need to risk your health.”
Anna nodded in agreement. “The Mounties heard everything and they now have your papers. Ramsey will be sent away for a long time.”
He gently ran a hand through my hair. “Oh, Elizabeth, I don’t know if it’ll be enough. Yes, we stopped this one man. But there are tens of thousands of others here just like him. My mining claim can protect your winter village – but it can’t protect the streams with your salmon. The lands you rely on.”
I looked into those tawny eyes I knew so well. “We will find a way,” I assured him. “My tribe will follow the caribou. We will seek out new streams. Nature renews itself. There is always a way, if one but looks.”
His eyes shone with emotion. “God, Elizabeth, I love you.”
The words resonated through me, filling me with the greatest joy I could ever imagine.
There was a rustle to the left. His fingers twined into mine. “Stay with me.”
“Always.”
The world swirled …
*
I smiled as Anna and Sofia came up to meet me in the center of the crowded street. All around us were waves of pedestrians enjoying the fine summer’s evening. A blushing couple in their best white tunics might have been courting. A trio of elderly women with their hair done up in elaborate updos were probably on their way to the latest play over at the theater. Those four men in flowing blue robes were undoubtedly heading up to the Acropolis on official business.
Anna tucked her arm into mine, her eyes shining. “Have you had any more visions lately? Anything new about this man of your dreams?”
Sofia gave her a playful push. “You just want to hear if these visions reveal who you will end up with,” she teased. “You’re jealous that you don’t have an imaginary lover of your own.”
My voice shot out defensively. “He’s not imaginary! He’s real!”
They both turned amused eyes on me.
I blushed. “All right, maybe I haven’t seen him in person yet. But these visions feel real.”
Anna grinned. “Metal ships that belch smoke.”
Sofia nodded. “Wooden tubes that fire out deadly missiles.”
Anna’s eyes sparkled. “Lands so cold that the water freezes into glistening flakes and drifts white from the sky.”
Sofia tapped her lip. “Lands so dry that water cannot be found for many days’ walk.”
I put my hands into the air. “All right, all right. I know they sound fantastical. Like one of those bizarre plays my stepmother is always dragging us to see.” I crossed my arms before my tunic. “And yet I tell you it is real. Somehow, despite everything we know about our world, these visions are showing me something meaningful.”
We passed a street-side restaurant which had fresh bread out on its round wooden tables. My mouth watered.
I slowed …
Sofia grabbed my arm, smiling. “Oh, no, you don’t! I heard from my father that a contingent of Spartans was arriving today, through the north gate. Can you imagine? I hear they can lift a bull in each arm.”
Anna’s eyes twinkled. “I hear they eat the hearts of their enemies to give them strength.”
I pressed my lips together, following the laughing pair. I had overheard far more somber news. My father had held a symposium last week – a male-only gathering which my stepmother and I had been strictly forbidden to attend. But my curiosity had gotten the better of me, and I’d found a partially-open door to curl up against.
The talk had not been lighthearted, as I’d heard at other such gatherings. Instead, the men had talked seriously about the threat of the Persians. Apparently there could be a force over two-hundred-thousand strong descending on Greece, dedicated to sacking our cities and enslaving our population. All that lay around us – the fine marble columns, the luxurious silks, the elegant scrolls of poetry and plays – it could all be lost.
Anna nudged me. “Stop that frowning. All right, all right. We accept your dream lover is real. We just have to find him.” Her eyes sparkled. “But first, we want a glimpse of this Spartan.”
Anna grabbed my arm. “Look! There they are!”
I looked up.
There was no mistaking the Spartans.
We Athenians wore flowing white chitons, or tunics, sometimes decorated with elegant dye or embroidery. We treasured beauty and culture. Our clothes, our hair, even the very expressions on our faces reflected that.
The Spartans were different.
The three men who strode through the gates were clothed in functional dark brown briefs and flowing red cloaks. Each wore a sword at his hip and had a spear in his hand. From their sandaled feet to their short-haired head they were rippling muscle.
But most of all it was their eyes. Their eyes were dark, serious, and full of focus.
Anna clung to me in awe-struck delight. “Thank the gods! There are three of them!”
The man in the center looked over.
The light caught his eyes.
They were tawny.
18 – Athens Destiny
I stared at the Spartan soldier in utter shock, sure my eyes were playing tricks on me. My dream-vision man was surely a noble Athenian who had simply been away on an important journey since my dreams began. He was a man of stature. A visionary who was well versed in literature and poetry, in mathematics and architecture.
Civilized.
The three men striding down the wide street were raw brutes. They wore dark brown briefs, crimson cloaks, and little else. I’d heard they killed their own children. They ate their enemies raw. They were like wild dogs who knew only the law of the pack. Kill or be killed. Take what was wanted and destroy the rest.
His eyes were tawny.
He swept his gaze as he moved, undoubtedly watching the huddled, pointing crowds for any sign of attack or threat. I tucked behind Sofia as his head turned in our direction, and his step hitched for a moment; his gaze narrowed as if taking a closer look. Then he returned to his perusal and the three warriors continued further down the busy street.
A tsunami of nervous conversation followed in their wake.
Sofia shivered. “Did you see the way they looked at us? As if they’d just as likely rape us as talk with us!”
Anna nodded, her fingers twined. “And to think our council lets those men walk free amongst us! Surely the heathens should be under guard or something. Who knows what they will do!”
I knew one thing.
They were heading southeast – in the direction of my home.
I blurted “I’ve got to get back. My stepmother said something about needing help with dinner tonight.”
Anna shook her head, the threat of the three enemy forces apparently dissipating in the evening summer’s breeze. “That woman has you on a tight leash. See if you can get away later – there’s supposed to be a good musician playing tonight at the theater!”
I waved, and then I was in motion.
My feet skipped lightly down the steps and along the columned front of the speaker’s hall. I took the back ways, tucking along behind the fish shop and around the goldsmith’s. For some reason I didn’t want to see those Spartans again. Not out in the open, where there were none to protect me.
At last I reached the front gates of our home. Cooper, once my beloved nanny, and now more of an aunt, was tending the herb garden in our front courtyard. She smiled fondly as I came in. “There you are, child. Had your fill of the Spartans, have you?”
I blushed. “I have been doing no such thing.”
Her grin widened. “You never were a good liar, dear, and that becoming blush on your cheeks adds to the truth of it. So, were they handsome?”
“They were brutes,” I shot out. “All muscle and no brain. How were they allowed within our city walls?”
Her eyes shadowed with concern. “These are dangerous times, my sweet, and sometimes you must befriend the wolf when a dragon stalks at your border. We would not be able to stand against the Persians on our own.”
A shiver ran through me. Were things really that desperate, that we had to trust our fate to men such as these?
She nudged her head at the building. “Go on in. They are setting up the meeting room now.”
I gasped. “What, they are coming here? I thought they were going to meet at Ramsey’s!”
Her eyes twinkled. “It seems Ramsey felt his home security … inadequate to the task of reigning in those three. Your father stepped up and offered his own home. Your mother is frantic with the preparations. Maybe you could … lend a hand.” She gave a meaningful shrug.
My cheeks were aflame now, but my feet were light as I crossed the main threshold.
My stepmother waved from the kitchen. “There you are. Good. Mary is always a rock for me but the gods are fickle - she has come down with a hacking cough and fever just when I needed her most. We’re short-handed. Be a good girl and bring this tray of olives in to the andron.”
I took up the large pottery platter. It was gorgeous red-tan with etched black oxen riding its circumference. Its bowl was piled high with fragrant black and green olives. I carefully carried it into the room used for my father’s meetings.
I smiled in satisfaction as I walked across the tile floor and carefully placed the platter on the central table. Clearly my stepmother had been busy – the room was already quite prepared. There were grapes and figs, fresh bread and cheese. At least six large amphorae of wine were strategically placed in various corners. Beautiful drinking bowls were on every hand, most showcasing detailed scenes of Bacchus and his followers.
I snorted. As if the heathens would appreciate such finery. They undoubtedly drank their alcohol out of cups sewn from the stomachs of the slain.
My father strode into the room, and I stepped forward to give him a fond hug. He was dressed in his elegant best, with the white linen freshly cleaned and the gold embroidery edging shining in the gleam of sunset.
I looked into his eyes. “Father, it is truly a sign of distinction that the council has turned to you for this meeting.” I shivered “But is it really safe to bring them here? Maybe you should have your discussion somewhere with trained guards.” My fingers twined. “Maybe the hall of our soldiers’ barracks?”
He chuckled. “Ah, my sweet, you’ve been listening to those friends of yours again. The Spartans are men just like any other. They understand honor and loyalty. They know that we must all band together to stand strong against the Persians. If they have different ways, then still, we will find a common ground.”
My stepmother poked her head in, her eyes shining with nervous delight. “They’re here!”
My throat closed up. I could barely breathe.
My father nodded at us. “Come. Let me welcome them properly into our home.”
I was as skittish as a newborn colt as I followed the two through our home. I found myself brushing down my own chiton to ensure it was clean and wrinkle-free. I snorted. As if the Spartans would notice or care about such things. Undoubtedly their women were required to walk around naked, if they were allowed out of the house at all.
We made our way into the main courtyard. The house surrounded us on all sides now, and the thought eased my fears. We had never been threatened within our own walls.
I breathed in deeply. There was a pair of fig trees providing shade to one side. A trio of elegant chairs sat beneath them. Opposite was a fountain trickling water in a tinkling stream. My stepmother’s pots of rosemary and sage flourished by the kitchen door.
I wondered what the homes in Sparta were like. Were the walls painted with blood? The walls hung with the skins of their victims?
Cooper stepped through the small foyer and then moved aside.
Behind her were the Spartans.
There was something viscerally dangerous about the way they moved. As if they were stalking rather than strolling. The three men moved as a unit, wary. They came to a halt i
n the center of the space, precisely arrayed, hands on the hilts of their swords.
And Robert stood at their center.
Robert’s gaze swept the space, evaluated my father, went to mine – and froze.
Time hung.
Emotion warred within me. Every ounce of me wished to flee the danger of that soldier’s honed body. To get to the safety of my women’s quarters, where men were never allowed to enter.
Locked in an arm-wrestling grip with that panic, every breath in my soul pleaded for me to go to his side. To take his hand, trust in him, and never look back.
Gazing into his eyes, all fear fell away.
It was suddenly as clear as if I had known him a lifetime. I could sense the force of will it took him to stay in place, to not come to me. The control required for him to merely draw in breath while my father began the long formalities of the official greeting.
When Robert was at last given the opening to speak in response, his voice was hoarse. “We thank you to agreeing to talk with us. I know many in your community have reservations about allying with the Spartans.”
My father’s eyes shone with amusement. “You have a gift for understatement. But we will find a way. Come, this way to the andron. The other men will be here shortly.”
Robert’s gaze swung to me and my stepmother. “Your family will not be joining us?”
My father’s lips turned up. “Women are not allowed to attend important discussions such as these.”
The man to Robert’s left snorted in disdain. “In Sparta our women are not treated like chattel. They compete in our sports and they are taught to govern. They read and write. How else can one have a strong society, if half of it is forbidden to participate?”
I glanced at Cooper in surprise. Were these truly the wild infidels I had been warned about?
My father stepped to the right. “I see we have much to learn about each other. Come, join me for a drink.”
