Thora

Home > Other > Thora > Page 8
Thora Page 8

by Cameron North


  "Tomorrow you can continue as normal," Halcyon said, as she stood up and looked at Yarikh. "We will complete our discussion this evening." She then started toward the nearly rebuilt kitchen, but she paused and looked over her shoulder. "Thora, my husband returned to the barracks last night." She vanished into the kitchen, which needed her attention.

  * * *

  For the day, Yarikh and Thora practiced Greek in the courtyard. At some point, Halcyon and Cesare briefly passed by and left the villa through the front gate. Thora had seen her leave, but she stayed focused on Yarikh's lesson. About midday, Glauce brought them a plate of food to share. Just before sunset, Yarikh ended the lesson and allowed Thora to continue her chores.

  In the supply room, Thora assisted Glauce with making the meal. They had learned how to work well together after Glauce picked up on a few cooking skills from Thora. Cesare shortly entered to help.

  "The Persians are savages," Glauce told Thora.

  "Savages?" Thora repeated, having yet to learn the word.

  While organizing the new choes of wine from the agora, Cesare looked over at the women and explained, "Animals."

  Thora glanced over her shoulder at Cesare before she plucked one of many dried herbs hanging from above her head, preparing the gyro. "Like a Norsk," she said. "Like me."

  Cesare chuckled and came over to the pair. "Persians come from Hades. I do not believe a Norsk does so."

  Thora grinned at him and replied, "It is cold in my lands. Hades could not live there."

  Cesare mirrored her grin, then he became serious. "Why do you talk about the Persians?" He glanced at Glauce, who was arranging grapes, cheese, and bread on a plate.

  "Glauce said there is war."

  "That there will be war," Glauce said. "They will not speak or declare war with the Carnea Festival." Today the agora buzzed with excitement, thanks to the festival dedicated to Carnus and Apollo. Glauce set the vine of grapes down on the table and turned to the other slaves. "When I was in the agora, there was talk that word came from the former king, Demaratus, that the King of Persia marches toward Greece."

  "Demaratus! That treacherous king," Cesare said with venom and huffed. "This morning, I was at the bouleuterion with Halcyon." He noted Thora's questioning glance. "The building where the city council meets, beside the agora."

  Thora understood and returned to the gyros, remembering the councilmen, citizens, women, and the like collected at the bouleuterion several times.

  Cesare thought back to today's council at the bouleuterion. "Demaratus sent two blank tablets to Sparta." It was those very tablets that spurred today's early morning meeting at the bouleuterion, and Cesare had patiently waited for his owner.

  "That is strange," Glauce said.

  Cesare shook his head. "Queen Gorgo figured out they were not, in fact, blank. There was wax concealing his warning message about the King of Persia coming into Greece."

  Glauce gasped and asked, "He is here already?"

  "In Thrace." Cesare was concerned by the news too.

  Thora had a rough idea of Thrace's location in the northern part of Greece. Recently, Yarikh was teaching her about maps and started with Greece. She set the four gyros onto a plate and looked at the other slaves. "Will Greece fight?"

  "Of course." Glauce was sure of it yet Cesare had a worried look.

  "But only after the festival." Cesare remembered the arguments at the bouleuterion today. "It is sacrilegious to fight during the festival," he told Thora. "Plus Sparta must first spread word, but with the Olympiad..."

  Thora frowned at what the Spartan festival or games in Olympia had to do with anything.

  Glauce sighed heavily and looked at Thora. "The games are important."

  Thora went slack jaw. "More than war?"

  Cesare picked up a heavy oinochoe. "Sparta will rally her hoplites before the King of Persia can march any farther south into Greece." At today's meeting, Cesare heard the vote given that King Leonidas would take his three hundred guards to meet the King of Persia. Along the way, he was expected to have support from other small bands of hoplites along the Peloponnese.

  Emotionally struck, Thora realized that such hoplites included Halcyon. "Ĕra will fight."

  Cesare touched Thora's arm and comforted her. "She is a hippeus, a very special hoplite to the king and guards him. They call her the Iron Edge because she is strong like iron and sharply skilled like the edge of a dory."

  Glauce studied Thora's lost features after their owner's fate sank into Thora. "I heard the story that she stopped an assassination attempt on the king."

  Cesare recalled that day from years ago when Halcyon had stayed overnight in the palace to further guard the king. Once she had returned home, Cesare had worried over the wound to Halcyon's chest that left a scar along her collarbone. After a sigh, he said, "That is when she earned the name the Iron Edge."

  Thora had a thick frown as she listened to the other two slaves.

  Cesare understood Thora's fears, but it was far beyond their hands. He tightened his grip on Thora's arm and asked, "Is the food ready?"

  Thora refocused on the present and nodded. "Is ĕra back?"

  "Yes, she is in the andron with Yarikh." Cesare started to the open door with the oinochoe in hand.

  Taking the plate of gyros, Thora signaled for Glauce to follow her, and they went to the andron, passing Cesare on their way. Thora placed the food on a table and took the plate from Glauce, setting it down too. Glauce handed each a bowl, then took Thora's side and waited for any other orders.

  Halcyon looked directly at Glauce. "You may go and eat."

  Glauce bowed her head and quietly left the andron. Thora remained standing in front of the two klines that were occupied by Yarikh and Halcyon. She was thankful it was her tutor rather than Selene.

  "Yarikh and I have discussed your continued education," Halcyon said.

  Yarikh was enjoying the grapes and listened to the conversation.

  "We have made an arrangement for Yarikh to remain here longer and teach you to read and write." Halcyon shifted on the kline.

  Thora kept her eyes trained on Halcyon. "Thank you, ěra."

  Halcyon slightly bowed her head at the gratitude. "Yarikh must return home in two to three months from now, no later." She sensed that Thora understood her enough. "You must learn quickly." Already they were into the first month of the new year and quickly approaching the second.

  Thora nodded and glanced once at her tutor before she looked at Halcyon again. "Will Yarikh be back?"

  "I am afraid not," Yarikh replied.

  Sighing softly, Thora had to learn as much as possible before her opportunity was gone. She was thankful that Yarikh had started the reading and map lessons today.

  "More of your chores will be taken over by Glauce until Yarikh returns home." Halcyon saw the pending protest so she cut it off. "Unless you wish not to learn and remain an uneducated slave, like the others."

  Thora snapped her jaw shut after the warning, knowing she could easily sabotage her own wishes if she concerned herself with the chores. Indeed, Glauce could handle them for another two months. Thora silently promised to repay Glauce at a later time. "Yes, ĕra."

  "Excellent. Now go eat before it is any later." From the corner of her eye, Halcyon watched Thora leave the andron. She popped a few more grapes in her mouth and continued talking with Yarikh.

  * * *

  As the evening wore on, everyone retired to their rooms. Thora slept rather restlessly and tossed around on her bedroll. Her mind was on her owner's future as a hoplite going into battle against the Persians. She dreamed about her owner being killed by a snarling, ugly Persian, and it woke her very early in the morning. She remained upright in her shared bedroom, hand against her sweaty chest.

  Then voices from the courtyard carried up to her room. Thora slowly recognized Halcyon's deep timber followed by Cesare's reply. She was unsure what they said, only that Cesare was given an order. Thora climbed out of her bedroll
and hastily put on a chiton and sandals. This morning eerily reminded her of the same morning when her owner returned to the barracks.

  In the courtyard, Cesare unlatched the gate and drew it open. He sadly studied Halcyon, who was fully garbed in hoplite armor and carried her dory and aspis. At her back, her rucksack held a few personal items, and the helmet was tied to it. Her xiphos's hilt shone at her hip.

  Cesare was about to offer prayers, until footsteps caught his attention. Twisting his head toward the steps, he spotted Thora coming down and bit his lower lip because her expression was openly distraught.

  Halcyon turned to Thora, and her grip tightened on the dory. Even in the low light, Halcyon's bronze armor shined, but it would soon be painted in blood and match the red chlamys hooked to her shoulders. As Thora drew closer, she opened her mouth, but Cesare cut her off.

  "You should be resting." Cesare stiffened when fiery blue eyes settled on him, making him guilty for withholding Halcyon's departure from Thora. He realized how imposing Thora's height could be when she made use of it.

  Halcyon released a low breath, then softly said, "Leave us, Cesare." She kept her eyes on Thora and waited until Cesare was nearly gone from the courtyard.

  "You leave for war."

  "Yes." Halcyon moved her left arm so that the aspis was not between them. She could hardly explain to Thora how King Leonidas chose to stand against King Xerxes. Halcyon had hoped for a better strategy than three hundred hippeis and a small force of untrained men battling for time until Greece could rally all the hoplites. However, it was a better strategy than standing aside so that Xerxes's army could arrive at Sparta's unprepared doorstep. Halcyon had asserted her allegiance to King Leonidas yesterday in the bouleuterion. Such a discussion was a difficult one to have with Thora.

  "You will die." Through the night, Thora had pictured it several times in her dreams. "You must not go."

  "And if I do not, then Persia will come here, to this home." Halcyon indicated the courtyard and the rooms around it. "They will take all that I possess." She tilted her head and said sadly, "Including you."

  "Then we do not stay here."

  Halcyon balked at the idea of running from her enemy. Since childhood, she was trained to face danger and odds without restraint or fear. "I am Spartan." She hardened under the sheer foolishness. "It is my duty." Ending the conversation, Halcyon started out of the gate until a strong hand held her shoulder, pulling her back.

  "Nei!" Thora held tightly to Halcyon and asked, "And your duty to your home?" She ignored Halcyon's heightened anger. "Your duty to your slaves?"

  Halcyon shrugged off Thora's hold. "I will have none of those duties if they are taken from me."

  "Your life is of no value? It means... to me." Thora's Greek was crumbling under her surge of emotions.

  Halcyon breathed deeply, which diffused the storm in her. It was obvious they would remain at odds. Thora hardly understood her calling as a hoplite. In Thora's mind, Halcyon's life outweighed Sparta's freedom from Persia. It was a topic that Halcyon had no luxury to face right now. She was bound to her honor and aspis.

  "I will return," Halcyon said proudly and saw a tide of hope in Thora's beautiful eyes. However, she destroyed it with her next promise. "I will return with my shield — or upon it." She finally turned and continued out of the gate with the weapons, armor, and aspis that made her a hoplite.

  Thora stepped through the one open gate and watched Halcyon travel down the quiet street in the first light of dawn. She fisted her hands against the thunder in her heart. It was out of her control, and she could barely express her thoughts to Halcyon. If she had done so, she doubted it would have changed Halcyon's mind.

  Once Halcyon's receding figure vanished, Thora backed into the courtyard. She drew the gate closed with her, then bitterly rammed the lock through to seal the gate again. Thora leaned her head against the iron bars and struggled with her emotions. She slammed a palm against a bar and softly cursed in her native tongue.

  Returning, Cesare carefully approached Thora and consoled her with a one-arm hug. She tensed until she sensed that it was Cesare. Thora dropped her hands from the gate and faced the elder slave, who had slowly become a friend. She parted her lips, about to say something, but she let her words die on her tongue.

  Like Thora, Cesare had no words that could ease her pain. He denied any hollow promises that their owner would return to them. He knew that King Leonidas and the three hundred hippeis would face thousands of Persian soldiers in Thermopylae. Yesterday at the bouleuterion, he heard the king's very vow to take death if it meant victory. Cesare simply prayed that Halcyon's body would be returned to them rather than desecrated by the Persians.

  Cesare's only comfort to Thora was to draw her into his arms, holding her close and allowing her to work through the pain.

  Thora was thankful for Cesare's understanding as they hugged for some time. She was furious that Halcyon left them, upset her Greek was still weak, and scared about her future after seeming to find a stable home with Halcyon. The Fates were cruel, and Thora despised them for the life given to her.

  Chapter Nine

  Today was the first battle against King Xerxes and his vengeful army. Over six thousand Greek hoplites held a blockade at the pass outside of Thermopylae against hundreds of thousands of beastly Persians. Similarly, the strait near Artemisium was being blocked by four hundred Greek triremes, who faced over a thousand ships from Persia.

  King Leonidas and his three hundred hippeis were hoplites descended from Heracles. On Thermopylae's beach, they became the impenetrable wall that blocked Xerxes's raging flood until the rest of the Greek city-states could rally to arms. They would not allow Persia to take Greece and their freedom.

  King Xerxes only withdrew his men for a few hours in the night, after thousands were killed by the small Greek force. This gave Leonidas a chance to conjure up more creative ways to hold his enemy at bay. It also allowed his hippeis a chance to rest, clean their wounds, and eat before Apollo brought the sun over the eastern horizon.

  One of Leonidas's injured hoplites was being tended to by a comrade, Olus. Leonidas had found his injured hoplite beside a campfire, and he was highly concerned. Over a fortnight ago, they had arrived in Thermopylae and planned for Xerxes's army. The journey from Sparta had taken many days and tired his men. However, the original three hundred hoplites had amassed to over six thousand once they arrived in Thermopylae, many poleis pledging hoplites to the cause.

  However, during the slow trip north to Thermopylae, Leonidas noticed that his finest hippeus became weaker by the day. Each morning, she was bent over the nearest bush, and today, she was injured due to her slowed reaction. He made every attempt to convince the injured hippeus to return to Sparta. However, he feared that Halcyon would not listen to him.

  Halcyon continued staring straight ahead, past the campfire. She never flinched as her fellow hoplite stitched the sword wound on her right shoulder. She deserved the wound for being slow and weak. Her bronze armor did its best, but it failed to fully break the barbarian's strike during today's battle. She gritted her teeth against the memory of her failure but relished killing the Persian barbarian once she recovered from her error.

  But it was that particular mistake which was personally costing her the war now. Halcyon blinked against the persistent sting in her left eye. She had washed the blood from her face, yet it still bothered her. The laceration on her brow was at least dry now. She slowly fisted her hands while the Spartan king continued speaking reason to her. Her fire-lit eyes flickered up to Leonidas.

  "You must go, Halcyon." Leonidas declined ordering her, although he felt he might have to if she disagreed further with him. "It is important you live." His rich brown eyes lifted and scanned over the littered battlefield along the coastline. "There is no chance of survival here."

  Halcyon was quiet for a long moment. "I am a hippeus," she said coldly, bitter features locked on the campfire.

  Leonidas reached d
own and gently touched his hippeus's uninjured shoulder. "And one of my finest — until the Fates told us you are now carrying the future." He tilted his head and lowered his hand. "Sparta's future." He saw that Halcyon refused to believe in his words. "There is no Sparta without hoplites."

  Olus had stitched up Halcyon and finished wrapping her shoulder wound. With his minor training in healing, he was able to care for Halcyon's injury, but it still needed an expert eye. After a moment, he noticed the king's continued silence, and Olus was tempted to speak up, until he decided against it.

  Halcyon kept the arguments silent, loathing the king's wishes and cursed her own fate. Above all, she hated her weak, female body that had done nothing but displease her since she left Sparta nearly a month ago. Once her shoulder was finished, she stood up and left the small camp without a word.

  Leonidas left well enough alone, for now. However, he went in search of his commander, who was eating his tasteless dinner. He spoke with Stesichoros about removing Halcyon before first light, and while Stesichoros understood the king's wishes, he disliked forcibly stripping Halcyon of her honor to return to Sparta. He promised Leonidas that Halcyon would be cared for, only if she agreed to go back to Sparta. Leonidas admired Stesichoros's middle ground loyalty to both him and Halcyon.

  After the discussion, the king decided on a final attempt with Halcyon. He easily tracked her down just beyond the campgrounds along the beach, grateful for the darkness because it hid the bloody sand and water. The mess of Persian bodies, broken weapons, and impaled arrows forced him to walk slower. The king inhaled the refreshing salt air that drifted off the sea, after he came up to the lone hoplite.

  Halcyon drew her red chlamys around her weak body, once the king was at her side. She barely acknowledged him with a look and stared at the sea. The waves' constant washing onto the shore seemed to ease away her earlier anger about today.

  "You are not a failure, Halcyon. There is no dishonor in this." Leonidas grew quiet and listened to the waves peacefully brushing against the sandy shoreline, a stark difference compared to the cries and pains of war on the beach earlier today.

 

‹ Prev