"I will return," Halcyon said, vanishing from the andron. Her tide of anger carried her to the other side of the house and into the kitchen. Her presence stifled the kitchen, more than any heat or smoke from the oven.
Glauce was cleaning dishes but tensed at the fiery look. She quickly realized that all of Halcyon's ire was locked on Thora, who stood behind the square island with a knife.
"Leave us, Glauce."
As soft footsteps faded, Thora flexed her fingers on the knife's handle. She willed herself to let it go, then lifted her head until she met dark features.
"You insult me," Halcyon growled, stomping up to the wooden block that separated them.
Thora swallowed her emotions, except for her ferocity. Her steely blue eyes matched Halcyon's green. "How can slave insult owner?"
Halcyon pressed her hands flat against the island and leaned closer. "By insulting the owner's guest." She tilted her head. "Who is more than just a guest — she is the queen." She immediately noticed a bitter spark in Thora's eyes. "Why do you insult me?" She straightened up. "I thought we had moved forward."
"Forward impossible. There is no forward for slaves." Thora started around the tall block, features worn from the growing fight.
Halcyon took a sidestep and blocked Thora's retreat. From their close proximity, she sighed at the distress in Thora's fiery eyes. She remembered the one and only time when Thora had such enraged emotions. But further behind it was a wall of bitterness that had been built over time.
Thora lifted her chin, but she held her spot. She towered over her owner, and yet her owner's strength was imposing. "Flog me. Punish me."
Halcyon's lips curled into a sneer. "I seem to have already done that — with Gorgo." She hit a nerve and saw Thora flinch under the icy truth. Her glare softened under the obvious pain that had been buried in Thora. Halcyon's angry fog cleared with the revelation, and she said, "Speak the truth to me."
Thora controlled her body's weakness, but her voice trembled when she moved her lips. "I carried a blade before this life." She lifted her left hand and studied her palm, which was clean, but she still saw the blood. "I protected what was mine." She looked at Halcyon again. "Until it was taken, killed, and I was brought here." She stepped closer to Halcyon and whispered, "Now nothing is mine." She nearly reached for Halcyon. "Not even my ĕra." This time, she moved past Halcyon.
"That is because you are mine." Halcyon turned her head sidelong and saw Thora pause in the entranceway. Thora turned and studied Halcyon's rigid back.
"I plucked you out of that slaver's centaur feces." Halcyon neared Thora again.
"Why?"
Halcyon tilted her head. "Your hair is the sun." She ruefully smiled. "Your eyes are the sky." Her smile shifted into a grin. "You stand taller than our gods." She watched Thora's weak headshake. "And your defiance warms me." She huffed and coolly said, "You deserved better than to become a helot."
Thora gave a low sigh, then drifted toward the courtyard, needing the space. "I will ask Glauce to attend to you and Queen Gorgo." She was hardly fit to handle them. "Have a pleasant night, ěra." She was resigned in her words.
"Thora." Halcyon took in Thora's exhausted posture and worn features, knowing there was no reason to have Thora attend to her and Gorgo tonight. "It is not Queen Gorgo whom I wish to warm my bed." Halcyon allowed the rest to remain unspoken as she broke away and returned to the andron.
Thora closed her eyes and whispered, "I wish the same."
Chapter Fourteen
Leather sandals smacked against wooden flooring at an alarming pace. Glauce called again for her owner while she ran to the thalamus. In her fisted hand, shredded ends of cloth waved in the warm morning air. Glauce pushed into her owner's room, without dignity or care. The slight candlelight and sun's dawning barely showed her flushed features.
"Ĕra!"
Halcyon had arisen only moments ago when her morning sickness forced her. She peered across her shoulder at the frantic slave. "What is it?"
Glauce ignored the impatience and hastily handed over a scrap of cloth, which had strange letters written on it. She shook her head and frantically said, "She is gone, ĕra."
Halcyon reread the bold word that was scratched into the material. Each letter had foreign arms and legs, but to her Norsk slave, it was familiar.
"She left last night... while we slept." Glauce knotted and unknotted her fingers several times. "I only found this where her roll should be."
Halcyon barely registered the ramble. She heard enough to assume that Thora had probably taken some provisions. She curled her hand around the cloth and whispered, "You may go."
Glauce parted her lips but held her silence. She bowed her head and took a step back. She turned and almost passed the thalamus's entrance until her owner's voice gave her pause.
"Send for Yarikh." Halcyon briefly listened to the departure but returned her focus to the scrap in her hand. Again, the foreign word spoke to her, yet its translation was lost on Halcyon. What did transfer into Halcyon was the raw power in each stroke of the letters. She felt the sorrow and brokenness when Thora dragged the black chalk across the linen. Yarikh's arrival broke her thoughts.
"Can you read this?" Halcyon handed the cloth to him.
Yarikh studied the strange letters that were from a language unknown to him. He had learned tidbits of Thora's spoken language, but the written one was a mystery. When he turned over the cloth, he stared oddly at what appeared to be one word. "I am unsure what it says on one side."
Halcyon was studying Yarikh. She seemed patient, but anxiety was building under her skin. The scrap of cloth was her only clue to Thora's very existence.
"But," Yarikh said, "I believe this is an apology." He displayed the single word on the stained side of the cloth. "Fyrirgef."
Halcyon received the cloth and stared at the Norsk word. She turned it over and wished she could read what Thora had scratched on the other side. It was a full sentence in smaller print compared to the apology. Halcyon closed her eyes briefly before she met Yarikh's curious gaze.
"Has something-"
"You leave in the next day?" Halcyon asked.
Yarikh hesitated at the change, but he nodded after a moment. "I am to leave tomorrow."
Halcyon rose up and said, "That is all, Yarikh." She watched him turn. "Thank you."
Yarikh held the appreciation close while he walked out of the room. But his sandals suddenly weighed heavy as iron. He faltered in the doorway then peered back. "Halcyon..."
Halcyon gazed over her shoulder toward him. Even from a distance, she saw his distress and struggle to speak up.
Yarikh softly cleared his throat. "Early on in our reading lessons, I showed Thora how to read maps." He faltered briefly when Halcyon narrowed her eyes. "She asked if I had other maps, larger ones. I only had one other that I brought with me from Rome." He laced his hands in front of himself, in hopes it would calm the ball of guilt in his lower belly. "It showed the routes in Gaul that Roman merchants travel for trade."
Halcyon slightly lifted her chin but tamped down on the sudden fire in her chest at Yarikh's mistake. He could not have known Thora's plans, she told herself.
"Yesterday I began to pack, and I noticed the map was gone." Yarikh's eyes fluttered a few times before he insisted, "I intended to ask her of it before I left."
Halcyon inhaled deeply and turned her head away. She realized she had balled her hands in her lap. "That is all, Yarikh." She willed him to leave and took another long breath as Yarikh's steps faded in the distance.
After a moment, Halcyon rose onto her unsteady feet. She became breathless and shaky in a few heartbeats. She hardened her resolve because she still had a walk to the latrine. Similar to previous mornings, she knelt before the ouranē and allowed the few contents to leave her stomach. She prayed to the gods that the sickness would soon leave her. It would be many months before she was truly well again. With bitterness, Halcyon left the latrine and nearly collided with Cesare.
"Ĕra," Cesare said breathlessly, yet frantic lines were in his features. "Thora is gone."
"Yes, I am aware." Halcyon stepped around Cesare and slowly returned to the thalamus. "Ready two horses." She paused beside the entrance to the room. "Then come find me."
Cesare remained still and bowed his head after he decided it was better to follow orders than ask questions. He hurried off with a soft mutter.
Halcyon reentered her room and slowly moved about it. Every step and motion through the room gave her a chance to think more about Thora. From the first day, Halcyon had been drawn to Thora's spirit and loved the challenge. There was a renewed life in her home upon Thora's arrival. Now Halcyon felt the heaviness in the house.
"Ĕra." Cesare's presence disturbed his owner's thoughts. He stood in the doorway and appeared calmer, besides the few tells of stress marring his features.
Halcyon stood with her back to Cesare and continued closing the rucksack, then picked up the sheathed xiphos and a dagger.
"The horses are ready." Cesare had his hands behind his back with his fingers knotted together.
"Pack your things, Cesare." Halcyon fastened the sword to her side. "And meet me at the stable."
Cesare stared at the bronze helmet seated next to the rucksack on the foot of the bed. He licked his lips and bowed his head. "Yes, ĕra." He quietly left again.
Halcyon took a deep breath and ignored the strain the bronze armor made upon her body. She was a highly regarded hoplite among her people. From birth, she was trained to live beyond her body's limitations. With a straighter back, Halcyon picked up the rucksack, helmet, and weapon. She left the thalamus.
Down in the courtyard, Glauce waited for her but soon hurried off to the kitchen after Halcyon's orders. Halcyon left the house and went to the stable. She was welcomed by several horse whinnies. The musky, leathery air settled comfortably in Halcyon's chest. As she neared Cheimon's stall, she felt a thread of clarity come over her. She was working out a plan to find Thora.
Cheimon huffed warmly at her owner, knowing a ride was ahead of them. She tossed her head as Halcyon came into the stall. Cesare had already tacked her, and Cheimon impatiently stomped the solid ground with her hoof.
Halcyon had a thin smile. She and Cheimon shared a special bond since their first meeting. She considered their bond while she set the rucksack on the ground. For a moment, she took the time to hook her sword into place.
Cheimon pounded her hoof a few times. She was only happy when her owner took the reins. Halcyon had put on the rucksack but still carried the helmet in her left hand. She pushed open the stall door and guided her horse out of the stable. Cesare nearly collided with Halcyon, but he darted to the side and bowed to her.
"Get your horse and hurry."
Cesare was about to rush off, but he noted Glauce running to them. He took wide steps and accepted the two bags of supplies that Glauce had prepared for them. He would put the items into his own rucksack.
"Hurry, Cesare."
Cesare vanished into the stable, shortly returning with a horse.
Halcyon was atop of her horse and slid on the helmet, seeming to become taller from the horsehair plume. She watched Cesare mount the horse. She grunted at his obvious trouble. "Can you no longer ride?" Many years ago, she had taught him to ride because she preferred his quiet company at times.
Cesare grumbled but became comfortable in the saddle. He silently cursed his aged body, but he would accompany his owner even if it caused aches in his joints. "I am old, ěra, but not dead."
Under the shiny but scarred helmet, Halcyon's smile revealed itself. "Let us go, then." She tugged on the left rein and started the journey. Beyond her villa, she and Cesare rode through the streets of Sparta and steered around the carts or people. Once beyond the city, the worn road eventually was swallowed by the beautiful landscape.
Halcyon had long ago retained a mental map of the region after many marches to Corinth and Athens. If she and Cesare were to locate Thora, then their last chance was at the Diolkos along the Isthmus of Corinth. There were only a few spots that allowed traffic to cross the portage road along the isthmus. However, it would take them four and half days to ride to Corinth. Her hope was to catch up to Thora before the portage road, if they were fortunate to be following her trail. Halcyon knew Thora was highly intelligent and would steer away from villages where she could be captured for slavery, again. Thora's very appearance and stature made her stand out like the Minotaur.
At a fast pace, Halcyon traveled northeast as Apollo rode across the sky and shined light on the beautiful lands. Cesare faithfully rode behind his owner and kept a careful eye out for trouble. By Halcyon's overly stiff posture, he knew she was suffering, but he remained silent about it. They took several breaks, including near a stream for the horses to forage it.
When the sun hung low in the sky, Cesare pressed his horse to catch up. He had done his best to withhold his concerns about Halcyon's struggle, but it was now late afternoon. He believed it was best if they found a safe location for the night and rested, especially for Halcyon. However, it would be in poor taste to point out Halcyon's weakness. Cesare purposefully slumped forward against the horse, as if quite stricken.
"Ӗra."
Halcyon's attention was lost among the sea of hills that formed the peninsula. She broke away from her visual survey and silently questioned Cesare.
"It is late," Cesare said gently, "and these old bones of mine..."
Pursing her lips, Halcyon had been so occupied with her thoughts that she had missed Cesare's weariness, but she could hardly deny him or even herself. After a sharp nod, she smiled and said, "Not much farther."
Cesare was soon rewarded with a welcoming stream beyond a line of pistachio trees. With cautious movements, he dismounted from the horse and happily sighed to be finished riding for the day. After a glance to the west, he suspected they had less than two hours to organize the campsite. He took it upon himself to gather the firewood for the evening so that his owner could care for the horses.
Well before sunset, Halcyon and her slave were comfortably seated beside a fire. Few words passed between them as they shared a meal of dried meat, nuts, and uncooked vegetables. The fire was just enough to keep them warm, but it would be a cool night. Long ago, Halcyon was trained to snuff out campfires during the night. An unlit campsite attracted few to no bandits, along with chilly air.
Cesare wished Halcyon goodnight, then retired to his furs. He kept his back to the dying campfire and only heard Halcyon move a bit later. Eventually, the cool air nipped at his face, and he hid deeper into the furs.
Halcyon remained beside the campfire. She was wrapped in a fur that blocked out the evening chill. She watched the gentle dance of colors from the sunset. It was slow and yet so sudden to the end of a difficult day. Somewhere across the Grecian lands, her Norsk slave basked in the same sunset.
Thora had been named after the rumble that followed a spring storm. Indeed, Thora had swept across Halcyon's heart and struck a chord deep inside. Somehow, Halcyon found herself chasing the distant rumble, as if she were capable of touching the sky. As if Thora walked among the clouds. Halcyon vowed she would bring Thora back down.
Eventually, exhaustion claimed Halcyon. She only stirred a few times throughout the night, mainly to relieve herself. The morning birds woke her to the new day, and she found the campfire lit back to life. Halcyon was grateful for the warmth and reclaimed her seat by the fire.
Cesare busied with making a light breakfast for them. He was hardly a cook, but he could make do so that their bellies were full for the morning. Just as he nearly had the food ready, he watched Halcyon leave camp. Distantly, sounds of Halcyon's morning sickness drifted back to him. Cesare had yet to question Halcyon, but he knew the truth. It was the only truth that would cause King Leonidas to send home a prized hoplite with such prowess.
The morning meal passed in silence and then the pair broke camp at a steady pace. The horses were tack
ed quickly and soon the journey continued north, toward the Isthmus of Corinth. The hours burned into the next one until the beautiful mountains of Mainalo rose up in a soft green wave. Nestled below the mountain range was the busy city Mantineia. It was also Halcyon's navigational aid. From here, they would turn northeast toward the isthmus.
For a reward, Halcyon took a break in the city. They walked their horses to the agora and hitched them near a stable, then sought out supplies for their continued journey. Halcyon spent far too much time bartering over food. Mantineia was known for its wine and honey mead, but she steered away from it. It was hardly lost on her that Cesare had packed them water skins only. He knew about her pregnancy.
By late afternoon, they departed the busy town and continued northeast. The sun's afternoon heat warmed against their backs during the ride. Every hilltop and each valley rolled endlessly in a tide of terrain. The journey to the isthmus seemed mythical in size, but Halcyon knew it well from her time in the military. From Mantineia, Halcyon hoped to arrive at the isthmus in two to three days. If their timing was right and the Fates willed it, they would arrive before Thora and be able to halt her. They were perhaps already ahead of her, thanks to the horses.
Their chosen route was the only one off the peninsula, other than traveling by ship. Most likely ship passage was impossible for a tall, fair-haired, moneyless slave like Thora. Halcyon still wondered how she expected to escape back north. Thora was a shiny gold piece among the dark Greeks.
Cesare traded few words with his owner. At dinner, he noticed Halcyon was more sluggish than last night. Her pregnancy and the fast-paced travel were taxing, but there was little he could do to halt her. He had lost count of how many years he had been in Halcyon's grace, but it was long before Euclid. Halcyon had been merely a girl when Cesare was first purchased as part of the household. Now that brazen, chatty girl had transformed into a bronze, silent hoplite, yet still ever passionate.
After sunset, the campfire burned for longer than it had last night. Halcyon could barely find the strength to smother it. Its warmth eased her worries for her runaway slave. Tomorrow's first light would come soon, so she crumbled under the furs for the night. The heavy armor rested nearby with the sword propped up against the battle-worn helmet.
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