They started ferrying people the short distance between the beach and the ship. She watched as Della’s parents lifted young children up the side of the ship while the sailors grabbed them. She felt such pride as she saw her people work together in near silence. She felt immense pride that she’d done this, formulated a plan that would get them a better life—a life they deserved. It only bolstered her resolve.
When she looked around, the boy she had spoken to was gone. He’d snuck away and she hadn’t even gotten her name. Perhaps it was best that she didn’t know—the less they knew the better. Names were not necessary.
“They cannot take all this time,” she said to the waiting group, “but they will return tomorrow evening. If you stay here till tomorrow they will be back for you.” A family nodded and walked away. “Don’t light any fires if you can avoid it,” she called after then. Parties reluctantly joined the group as they stood back.
Chara walked north before returning to her village. She walked past a number of villages and spoke to the people she came across as she went. She told them that she was taking people Attica. Some were eyeing her suspiciously while others mentioned that they’d heard rumors. She told them a point and a time where she would transport anyone who wanted to pursue the safety and the opportunities in Attica.
She specifically targeted people who work in the fields, because there were much less chances of them being affiliated with the Spartans. Everyone seemed to know the people who were divided in their loyalty, but she specifically mentioned that there were people who should not be told and they seemed to know what she was talking about.
She’d come to realize that the information flows that had distressed her so much before could also be used to spread the word in the districts she visited. These people knew their neighbors and the villages around them, and they would be more effective in passing the word than her. She trusted them to do so.
She knew it was impossible to keep such a large secret forever, but if they were careful, they could delay the knowledge getting into the wrong hands. She was pleased to learn that while people had heard of her, they didn’t know her name as they had heard that someone from her village was taking people north. They had dismissed it as mere rumors.
Nicias went straight to Chara’s house when he rode back from visiting his commanders in Sparta. He came across her harvesting her family fields by herself. She was going to have trouble on her own, he thought as he looked across the large field. There was a mule standing by waiting for direction.
“A very big field to work on your own,” he said surprising her. The horse had come so quietly, she hadn’t heard him. Stealth was as ingrained into him as breathing.
“I have little choice—my father in not here.”
“Where is he?”
“He is still visiting his brother.”
“During harvest time? Inconsiderate of him to leave you to deal with the harvest by yourself.”
“Doros’ death weighs very heavily on him.”
Nicias nodded. “I can send some of people from the estate to assist you,” he said after a while.
“Considering they have no skills for it, it may be more trouble than it’s worth,” she said with a smile. “But thank you for the offer. I will manage.”
“But I might not. I do not wish to spend the next week watching you harvest this field.”
“You could always help me.”
“Me, help you harvest a field!? Use my twenty years of military training and experience to clear a field,” he said teasingly. “Do you have any idea what they would say of me if anyone saw me? That I have gone googly eyes over a girl and lost my pride and manhood completely.”
Chara blinked. He wanted to take her away from here, from this. He could protect her, and keep her from having to do this work. It felt wrong leaving a slight girl like her with such heavy work.
“Ugh,” he said and dismounted. “This is not the work for mighty conquering Spartan warriors, you know—no matter how pretty you look. They would never stop laughing at me. Give me that sickle.”
She did and watched as he leant over and cut a bunch of barley stalks. He was sure it made for a ridiculous sight, but her smile meant he couldn’t quite stop. He wasn’t entirely sure how far he would go for her smiles, but apparently this wasn’t too far.
She joined him and they cut barley for a while until he’d had enough. He could feel her watching him as they went. He’d always thought being born a Helot was a curse on anyone, but being here in the sunny field with her wasn’t so bad. But that was neither here nor there, he wasn’t a Helot and he could provide her with a much better life—one where she would enjoy her life with more leisure. But he did appreciate her constitution and her willingness to work; it showed good character and strength.
After a while he’d had enough of this. They’d made some process, but he wasn’t here to harvest. He would send the servants along to help with the field later.
“Now, I know a much better use for tall barley,” he said and threw the sickle onto a pile of barley stalks. He grabbed her by the arm and pulled her to him. She smiled at she reached up and embraced him and he drew in the scent of her, feeling her soft curves along his body. He lifted her off the ground and carried her further into the unharvested field where he lay her down and they were hidden from the world, surrounded by in lovely golden sunlight.
Chapter 22
There were more people waiting to meet the ship than Chara had expected. Again the ship would have to do two runs, maybe even three. She knew what was prompting them; the Crypteia was coming up shortly after the harvest. The Spartans would take their crops, then declare war on them as was their ritual every year. But there was a general consensus that the bitterness and cruelty amongst the Spartans was growing. Perhaps as the war had been faring badly over the last year with the exception of Megara, they were taking their frustrations out closer to home, and they appeared to be staying home for this year’s ritual subjugation and slaughter meant to keep their dominance over the Helots fresh.
She suspected that more people would leave over the next few weeks. Personally she couldn’t understand why anyone would stay when there was another option. She knew she should get on that ship and never think about anything she left behind again—including him—but she couldn’t. Her people needed her—someone had to co-ordinate this flight.
She also struggled to reconcile the man she knew with the behavior of his kinsmen. She’d never seen him behave in that way and it may break her heart if she ever did. Again she had to check her resolve and not forget what he was.
When the ship came to shore, the man in charge sought her out again.
“Your friend sends a message that everything is fine, that Klenias is doing his part, although with gripe due to the number of people you are sending. She has had to seek out other areas and representatives.”
Chara nodded. She was glad that Della was organizing things on the other side. She sent a message back that Della should seek the assistance of the Administrator in Athens if the representatives provided difficult.
They agreed to the next three places to meet. She assured the waiting people that the ship would be back to pick them up and to stay put until it did.
She also spotted the boy she had met last time.
“Why didn’t you sail?” she asked him. He twitched his slight shoulders in a shrug.
“I got lots of people,” he said with pride. “You should have seen it, they had to go twice.”
“I believe you. But why didn’t you go?”
“I thought I would help you.”
“This in dangerous, don’t you understand that?—more so for you than for me. The Spartans ignore me because I’m a girl, but they won’t ignore you.”
“They don’t notice anything,” he said with the fierce confidence he’d shown last time they’d broached the topic. “I’ll get some more people. I can travel around the villages and let them know where to go.”
She
should be sending him onto the ship, but she also needed help. She could see that to someone like him, this would be terribly exciting. Maybe even the first time he had a meaningful job to do. It would place him in more risk, but it was beneficial for the greater good. Chara was wracked with guilt and uncertainty. She hated having to make these decisions. She closed her eyes and wished she was in Attica with the others where the most difficult choice was what to plant.
“Fine, but don’t speak to the wrong people and do not engage with any Spartans. If they ask you, you tell them you are doing for father’s bidding. Always have a good excuse for why you are there, but avoid them at all cost. Promise me.”
He nodded.
“Get some more people, but be very careful. Sooner or later, someone will notice and they will come looking for us. At the first sign, I want you on the ship, do you understand?” She wasn’t sure he would listen to her. He was too young to die at the hands of the Spartans, but so had Doros been and all the other young men they had killed.
“The harvest is down,” Nicias’ father said as Nicias joined him for the morning meal. “I don’t know why, but it’s down.”
“Perhaps the crops have been yielding poorly,” Nicias suggested. He thought back on Chara’s field and it seemed healthy and productive, but then he wasn’t really well suited to judge. “Maybe the gods have been ungenerous this year.”
“Maybe,” his father said. Nicias could hear the lack of assurance in the older man’s voice. It wasn’t an issue Nicias was particularly interested in; he was tired, having just returned from the city.
“The Athenians are marching north,” Nicias said.
“Oh? What is their aim?”
“We are not entirely sure, but it is expected that they will seek land from our allies. They are marching for Delium it would seem, but it may be a ruse.”
“Are you marching as well?”
“Not yet,” Nicias confirmed and his father nodded.
“This last victory has made them afraid of engaging us. They ran like the cowards they are. Now they are marching north to seek easier prey.” The man spoke with pride in his eyes, then they clouded over. “I will send a message to the city. This is concerning.”
“Perhaps they are just late in harvesting,” Nicias added searching for possible reasons for the harvest being low.
“I don’t like it when they change their schedule. It means they are plotting something. You can’t trust them.”
Nicias was certain his father was overreacting, but the Helots were known to cause trouble if they weren’t controlled. It would be an excellent time to pick trouble now that the Assembly was distracted with war. The leaders did take Helot revolts seriously and any signs of plotting was quickly rooted out and crushed. He’d always dismissed the Helot activities as inconsequential; although he had developed some sympathy for their cause since knowing Chara. Her sweet nature garnered his regard and bolstered his esteem for the people that produced her. But equally he could not understand why they would revolt when there was no chance of success. If a strong state like Athens could not take Sparta, a weak people with no state had absolutely no chance. They were foolhardy to even try.
He dismissed the thoughts; he had better things to worry about. He didn’t know how long he would be at home before being called to march north to engage the Athenians yet again. He withdrew from his father’s presence after finishing his meal and sought out a shady spot in the outer garden where he sat down and surveyed the land around them. He couldn’t imagine this peaceful land breaking into revolt; although he knew it had in the past, a time when the Spartans had to take refuge behind the walls of their estates—being taken by surprise. They’d wowed it would never happen again, but perhaps the Helots had not completely given up their ambitions or it had been too long for them to remember the repercussions.
I made him think of his own situation, the estate that had been promised him. It seemed as far away as ever. This war was not ending and no one was prepared to turn their attention to such domestic matters until victory had been achieved. He’d noted that there was a faction within the Assembly that believed that victory was unattainable in this war—a faction had that been accused of treasonous ambivalence by others. Nicias had to admit that he’d come to hear their thoughts without dismissing them entirely. The only way true victory was achievable was to storm the walls of Athens and take the city—not something he could quite imagine happening, or something that could be maintained if achieved.
He wanted nightfall to come, Chara would come with it. He didn’t like that she insisted on continuing with her work, but if his father was right, perhaps she knew that she must to keep the harvest coming. He knew it was the busiest time for the Helots and he had sent people to assist her.
She wasn’t strong like a Spartan woman, but he wasn’t entirely sure he regretted that. He adored her slight, gentle curves, her soft eyes and the way she laughed. They’d taken to talking more as they’d spent increased time together. He would tell her of his exploits, about his training and his hopes for the future. She always listened, then he would kiss her. Her body responded to him and it made for a deep sense of satisfaction in him. He missed her when he left and she made him hurry back when he could.
Nicias spent a few wonderful weeks at home—a time he didn’t want to end. He spent the nights here in the arms of his girl and helped his father during the day as the harvest came in. He could see the continued disappointment in his father and watched as he yelled and whipped the Helots that came with their obviously disappointing bounty.
“It’s getting worse,” his father said one day. “Something is wrong. I’ve heard nothing from the city and I have sent several messages.”
Nicias was genuinely concerned this time. He disliked seeing his father distressed.
“You must go to the city to discuss this with them—assure them that what I say is true.”
“It is a bad year for the harvest.”
“It isn’t a bad year,” his father stated. “The conditions have been good. The harvest should be much stronger. They’re hiding it from us.”
It was a possibility that Nicias hadn’t considered. “Then we must find it.”
“To do that, we need assistance.”
“Fine, I will go,” Nicias relented. He didn’t want to journey all the way down to Sparta, but he knew his father was not going to rest until he did, and if the Helots were hiding the harvest, it needed to be sorted. He hoped it wasn’t the case because if it were, there would have to be retribution. He would ensure nothing would happen to Chara, but the Assembly would not take such an action by the Helots lightly.
He didn’t take long to prepare, saddling his horse and setting off shortly after the midday meal. It was a hot day for riding, but it was better than walking. He rode along the road southwards and noted the harvesting activities along the way. He didn’t normally notice such things, but he paid attention now. There were unattended fields and fields that had yet to be touched. He saw groups of Helots harvesting in other places. He didn’t know enough about it to say if anything was out of the ordinary. His father did keep good tallies of what came in and if he said it was down, then Nicias had no reason not to believe him.
Chapter 23
Chara had lost track of the number of people that had travelled with her ship. The numbers had grown each time. A few people had even come back to collect more of their family. Even though the word spread, Chara had to spend a bit of time helping some people travel to the coast. There were the two pregnant widows that she had to assist, they couldn’t travel on their own and they were garnering the displeasure of the Spartans by not being able to work or to harvest.
She got reports from people telling her that the Spartans were harassing them about harvest activities—questioning them of their plans and why things were not being done quicker. They weren’t noticing the people disappearing, but they did notice the things they care about—the harvest. It only served to push people to
her, that and the upcoming Crypteia.
She’d also been approached by some who were desperate to get their relatives out of Sparta, people who had been stolen away to serve in whatever capacity. Chara felt their plight heavily, she had a good idea what had happened to them. It had just been her good fortune that Nicias had turned out to be a better kind of man. Not everyone had such luck.
She wanted to try to give these girls a chance to escape their lives, to be reunited with their families. It would be more risky than anything she’d done until now because it involved a class of Helots whose loyalty was uncertain—it also involved the Sparta metropolis, the center of their state.
She should draw the line somewhere, but she knew it would haunt her for the rest of her life if she left these girls behind. At some point she would have to stop, it would become too risky. It was just very hard to do so and to live with the consequences.
Her time with Nicias was a relief from all her worries, a bubble of sweetness away from the harsh reality—stolen comfort if she admitted it. She had to guard herself to not forget what the true situation was, that the difference between her and the girls that were desperate to escape was very, very slight. Sooner or later, there would be another child in her belly and she would have to flee.
She must not forget that there was no future for them, she told herself as she travelled back to her village on the steady and sturdy mule that had become her means of transportation and her dear companion. Her thoughts strayed to Nicias more often than not.
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