"I apologize, Selene." Halcyon returned to her spot on the kline with Selene. "It is obvious that she still requires a heavy hand." Later, she would consider what caused Thora's unexpected actions.
"Let us forget it now." Selene hoped she could ease Halcyon's temper, which was even fearful to Selene. "Besides, I will soon be out of my chiton."
"Yes." Halcyon leaned in for a kiss. She withdrew and said, "Shall we move to the bedroom now?"
Selene grazed Halcyon's cheek with the back of her hand. For a year, Halcyon had been her lover. "Yes, Halcyon. I am yours tonight."
Chapter Two
Taking a break from the punishment, Thora leaned heavily against the pitchfork in her hands scowled at the stinky stall. Last night had ended badly after Thora had dumped wine on her owner's lover. Thora had been struck by Halcyon for the error. Her punishment had begun last night with no rest. To Thora, the horse manure was a more welcome smell than the ouranē. The ouranē were full of human waste that still made Thora nauseous. Several other straining chores were given to her until first light when she was sent to the stable.
After a step, Thora leaned against a post and wiped the sweat off her brow. She kept the pitchfork away from her face, arm stretched out in front of her. After the short break, she resumed mucking the horse's stall. The stable was about halfway done. When it was finished, she would resume her normal chores, which would be a relief.
Due to her weariness, Thora barely registered the footsteps in the stable before she felt the movement directly behind her. She was startled, spinning around with the pitchfork. Her fighting senses were ready, especially against the bronze-covered intruder.
"Calm down." Halcyon's voice rumbled behind the bronze helmet, the red plume on top making her even taller. Her right hand rested on a sword hilt. She was fully armored for her rotational day as a royal guard to the king.
Thora lowered the pitchfork after she recognized her owner under the armor and leaned it against a wall. For the first time, she was dazzled by the rich green orbs that glowed under the shiny helmet. Halcyon reached up and removed her helmet, the cheek plates gently brushing her temples.
Stepping back, Thora put space between her and Halcyon. Her eyes darted down to the sheathed xiphos at Halcyon's side. She parted her lips, but her foreign words hung silent on her tongue. In her culture, it was common practice for a woman to know enough about weapons that she could defend herself and her children. Some women even became warriors. However, in Greece, Thora doubted women knew how to even hold a kitchen knife. She thought perhaps it was illegal for a woman to wield a weapon or wear armor, but it appeared to be legal in Sparta.
Stretching out her hand, Halcyon brushed her fingertips across Thora's slightly bruised cheek. Thora flinched but in hurt pride rather than pain. She kept her eyes trained on her owner. Defiance once again stormed brightly in her eyes.
Halcyon slipped her fingertips under Thora's chin. She and Thora silently spoke their emotions through their locked gazes. Even without a common tongue, Halcyon and Thora were able to convey their wills. Halcyon was truly displeased and insulted by Thora's actions last night, especially after she believed they had found a common ground. She had been wrong.
Thora hardly regretted her actions last night. In her homelands, Thora would have done the same to any woman or man who scorned her like Selene. Although Thora was a slave in Greece, her mind and spirit were still that of a freewoman.
Halcyon released a frustrated breath after she realized that breaking Thora's pride would be comparable to traversing Hades. She had hoped to work out an agreement with Thora, who refused to be tamed like other slaves. Their mutual respect would have to be rebuilt.
As a peace offering, Halcyon held out the bronze helmet from under her arm. Earlier she had noted Thora's fascination with her uniform.
Gazing down, Thora accepted the helmet, turning and inspecting every part of its shiny surface, then running her fingers through the red plume. The helmet had once been a perfect piece from the smith, but it had since collected wounds from fights, battles, and maybe even wars. A faint dent on the once smooth top caught Thora's eyes. Several times, she ran her fingertip over various scratches, especially one heavy gouge over the right temple. Her fingernail passed through it, and she imagined it was from a sword blade. From the front, Thora admired the craftsmanship details given to the eye slits, nose guard, and the fine metal etching that followed the helmet's edge line all the way around to the back.
Thora returned the helmet and grew bold about the rest of her owner's uniform. For a beat, she glanced at the xiphos's hilt, and unknowingly, she stretched out her hand to touch it. Suddenly, her wrist was hooked, and it halted her movements. Thora's attention snapped to her owner.
"No." Halcyon redirected Thora's hand to rest on her bronze cuirass that went down to her lower waist. She set Thora's hand against her bronze clad stomach. "Yes." She then lifted Thora's hand and placed it against her helmet. "Yes." She pointed at her bronze greaves and nodded. She lastly placed Thora's hand near the xiphos's hilt. "No."
Thora's hand was freed after the simple instructions. She took the earlier invitation to the cuirass and touched the stomach area. It was firm and warm, like the helmet. There were ribbed spots that mimicked muscles and a belly button. Higher up, the cuirass was specially crafted for Halcyon's upper body, including a pair of nipples that matched her male counterparts' cuirasses. At the top, two small, bronze rings allowed for the red cape to be hooked to them. Again, Thora was impressed by the craftsmanship and even the fact that a smith would accommodate a female. It was plainly obvious that her owner was held in high esteem by her male counterparts.
Tilting her head, Halcyon watched Thora explore her armor. It was the first time she had adorned herself in her armor in front of her new slave. She wondered how common it was for women in Thora's homelands to wear armor and wield a sword. Halcyon secretly enjoyed Thora's keen interest in her hoplite uniform. Spartan women looked the other way, but Thora was transfixed by her.
Thora withdrew her hand after she released one of the decorative leather straps that was attached to the base of the cuirass. She lifted her blue eyes to Halcyon, silently conveying that she was done.
Halcyon studied Thora, and her mind skipped back to last night. She pictured Thora pouring the wine into Selene's lap. Halcyon's rage had since cooled from last night. She shook her head and asked, "What were you thinking, Thora?"
Thora frowned at the words, but she suspected the topic. "Selene?" she asked. She was unsure if she was allowed to speak Linnr's proper name. Yet she hardly cared if it was impolite, because Linnr was ill-mannered.
"Yes, Selene."
Thora quickly caught on to what bewildered her owner. Her annoyed expression grew as she thought more about the obnoxious freewoman, who often bedded Halcyon. "Selene ist ein linnr." After Halcyon shook her head, Thora sighed and ran her fingers through her long, straight hair as she considered how to explain it. She stared at the dirt under her feet as she pictured a linnr, then she straightened up. She hastily grabbed her pitchfork from the wall.
Halcyon tensed until she realized Thora's intent with the pitchfork.
Thora was hardly an artist, but she drew a linnr in the dirt. Its long serpent body told most of its origin and Thora's meaning behind the nickname. Halcyon bent over and studied the childlike image scratched into the dirt. She was perplexed, so she looked at Thora, who pointed at the picture. "Selene." For emphasis, she hissed in example. "Selene… linnr." Perhaps it was in poor taste to explain a linnr, due to the simple fact that Thora was depicting Halcyon's lover as such a wretched creature.
Halcyon's jaw snapped shut, and she realized what was in front of her. It was quite similar to a snake. Everything aligned, then she turned to Thora. "Lenrm?"
Thora shook her head then slowly pronounced, "Lin-nr."
"Linnr," Halcyon said perfectly.
"Já," Thora agreed. She set the pitchfork aside again.
H
alcyon stared at the drawing, then slowly met Thora's smiling features. She raised a dark eyebrow and pointed at the Linnr. "Selene?"
Thora's smile faded against her owner's stern features. She dipped her head in silent confirmation.
Halcyon remained stoic. She realized the first foreign word she learned was about her lover, which was anything but complimentary. While studying the drawing, Halcyon considered her options.
Thora fisted her right hand at her side and waited for a physical response from her owner, who could be volatile without warning. Thora lifted her chin and prepared for Halcyon's reaction, but she held her ground to the short yet powerful freewoman.
Halcyon kept her head down as she lifted her helmet. She slid it on and allowed it to cover her face. Her eyes pierced through the darkness of the helmet's slits once she lifted her head. She said nothing and turned on her heels. Her red cape floated behind her as she exited the stable. Thankfully, she held down her smirk until she had her back to Thora.
Startled by her owner's sudden movements, Thora canted her head and watched Halcyon vanish beyond the stable's entrance. Just as she reached for the pitchfork, Thora thought she heard a low laugh, but she brushed it off. Continuing with her punishment, she needed to finish so she could prepare the next meal for Halcyon but only after a quick bath. The gods knew she needed one.
* * *
Later that afternoon, Thora returned to the quiet home. She had a quick, cold bath and then went directly to the supply room. It was obvious that Cesare had gone to the agora for food and drawn the daily water. She silently thanked him.
Thora gathered the items she needed and went to the kitchen. She quickly prepared a meal for Halcyon, who expected it within an hour. Right on the mark, Cesare barged into the kitchen.
"Finished?" He pointed at the tray full of food.
"Já."
Cesare went over to the wine oinochoe. He pointed at the food and said, "Andron."
Thora was confused by the order, although she clearly understood it. "No me," she attempted in ruined Greek tongue.
Cesare shook his head and pointed at Thora. "Yes." He pointed at the kitchen door. "Go." He sighed at Thora's hesitation, so he offered a smile. "It is okay."
From the first day in Greece, Thora was told that women were forbidden to enter the andron, a social room only for men. On occasions, female slaves could go to the andron, but that was only with the master's permission. However, Thora had not met the master of the house. Still, Thora was hardly in the mood to clean the stables again so soon. She put aside her concerns and crossed the courtyard into the andron. She paused in the doorway and settled her gaze on Halcyon, who was seated in an ornate chair.
Halcyon wore a soft purple chiton, sandals, and a necklace. She appeared much less threatening in her daily attire than her hoplite uniform. She signaled for Thora to come to her.
Once in the room, Thora noted the young man seated on a kline to the left of Halcyon. She averted her eyes to Halcyon, who indicated the cleared table on her right. Thora set the tray of food down and stepped to the side.
Halcyon noted Thora's keen interest in the newcomer, Yarikh.
Yarikh met the unusual slave's curious stare. His brown eyes twinkled, and a slight grin pulled at his lips. He was young, but his thin beard added the appearance of age.
"Thora?" Halcyon frowned when Thora ignored her. She leaned forward and snared Thora's wrist. Thora instinctively jumped away from Halcyon.
"It okay," Yarikh said in Thora's native tongue.
Thora went still, and her attention jerked to the stranger, who spoke familiar words from her homelands. "You know my language?"
Halcyon released Thora and listened to Yarikh's foreign conversation.
"I know… a tiny."
Thora's lips tugged with a smile. His tongue was hardly perfect. She opened her mouth to say more but was cut off by Halcyon's thick voice.
"Stop."
Thora's words shattered, and she glanced at Halcyon. She inwardly sighed, yet her curiosity was leveled on the newcomer.
"I am already impressed, Yarikh."
Yarikh bowed his head, then smiled at his prospective client. "I spent many years with a merchant. He had a keen interest in the lands to the north. I picked up some of their words for trade."
"Did you travel to those lands?" Halcyon asked.
Yarikh nodded. "We traveled into parts of Germania but not farther. They are dangerous lands, dangerous people."
Halcyon considered Thora, who was strong-willed and probably embodied her northern homelands. She pointed at her tray of food. "Would you like anything?"
"I am fine, but thank you." Yarikh folded his hands in his lap. "Has she learned any Greek?"
"Only simple words." Halcyon paused. "She is good at deciphering body language and tones."
"I imagine so." Yarikh lifted his attention to the silent slave.
As Halcyon reached for the grape bowl, she asked, "Have you seen Germanics similar to her in your travels?"
Yarikh studied Thora, who had golden hair and milky skin. He had seen granite blue eyes in Germania, but Thora's were much brighter. "Similar," he said finally.
Halcyon took a drink of wine. "What is different?"
"Germanics do not have hair as light as hers. Her skin is also rather pale for a Germanic." Yarikh tilted his head. "You say her name is Thora?"
Halcyon gave a nod.
Yarikh bit his lower lip for a beat. "I have not heard the name before." He looked at Halcyon. "Would you like me to question her about where she is from while you eat?"
Halcyon was curious about Thora's background. She had been waiting three months to find out. "Yes."
Yarikh smiled because he knew Halcyon was as curious as he about Thora's history. "Yð nafn ist Thora?"
Thora considered the stranger's odd dialect. She had heard it after she was taken from her homelands. She was able to piece together his question. "Já."
"I, Yarikh."
Thora nodded and was certain the name was Greek or Roman.
"Can explain where are from?" Yarikh asked.
Thora narrowed her eyes at the choppy tongue and shook her head.
Yarikh rubbed his beard and said, "Your home."
Thora understood the most important word. "Home is far north of here."
Yarikh grasped fragments of Thora's reply. The language he had learned in his travels was a dialect of Thora's native tongue. But it was enough to break the barrier. "Are you from Germania?"
Thora had heard the name Germania for the people south of her homelands. She shook her head and replied, "Much farther north." She raised her left fist level to her chest. "Germania." She then lifted her right hand above her head. "Norsk."
"Norsk?" Yarikh repeated, having yet to hear of such lands.
Listening to the fragmented conversation, Halcyon studied Thora's attempt to show Yarikh her homelands. "Is that not Scandia?"
Yarikh looked at Halcyon, who was obviously well educated. "Scandia is farther north than Germania." He gazed upon the unusual slave. "I have not journeyed there."
Thora looked from Yarikh to Halcyon. "Norsk." She frowned at the name they called her homelands. "No… Scandia."
Halcyon popped a grape in her mouth. Her grin appeared due to Thora's proud correction. "I imagine... Norsk are cold lands." She grinned wider at Yarikh. "She carries a fire within her that keeps her warm."
Chuckling, Yarikh imagined it was true. The times he interacted with Germanic slaves, he was impressed by their determination. People from the north were forged from iron.
Halcyon set down the bowl of grapes and focused on her guest. "I am pleased, Yarikh." She crossed her legs and placed her hands in her lap. "Can you teach her Greek?" She wished to communicate with Thora. Halcyon also knew Thora would remain a barbarian in Sparta if she failed to master Greek.
Yarikh had a natural gift for foreign language, diverse in Greek, Latin, and Phoenician. He knew pieces of Germanium dialect, but he wa
s hardly fluent in it. However, it was a challenge rather than a hindrance. "Yes, I believe so."
Halcyon nodded. She was pleased her contact in Athens was able to produce a capable tutor for Thora. "And what of your other employer?"
"I completed my duties with Tyre after we arrived in Athens." Yarikh recalled receiving Halcyon's message, which was perfect timing. He would have returned to Tyre and sought another position with a new merchant, but he was tired of the travel and welcomed the break in Sparta.
"I am at your service," Yarikh said. He bowed his head.
"I will have my slave, Cesare, bring your things into the house. You will have your own quarters here." Halcyon sipped on more wine, then asked, "How much coin do you require per month for your services?"
Yarikh calculated the amount of time he would spend with Thora each day. "Fifteen drachmas."
Halcyon thought about his offer. In Athens, a common household brought home a triobol per day. An average Athenian hoplite's wage was one drachma. Yarikh was hardly a hoplite, yet he was skilled as a translator. "Twenty drachmas a month."
Smiling, Yarikh's eyes glowed warmly in appreciation, and he readily agreed to Halcyon's wonderful proposition of room, board, food, and twenty drachmas a month. He thanked the gods for his great fortune.
Halcyon was content with the arrangement. Her attention cut to Thora who had been quiet. Halcyon expected to communicate with her within the next few months, now that Yarikh would tutor Thora each day.
Holding Halcyon's eyes, she knew they had made an arrangement, but she was unsure how it affected her. She hoped that Yarikh was here to teach her Greek. The idea seemed outlandish because slave owners strictly viewed their slaves as property. However, Thora believed there was something different about Halcyon from most slave owners. From the first day, Thora was drawn to Halcyon, and she strangely trusted her. Only the Fates truly knew Thora's future.
Chapter Three
Thora stood over a three-legged, stone basin located in the far corner of the kitchen. She had spent much of her late morning simply grinding wheat with a stone but paused when a new presence entered the kitchen.
Thora Page 3
