Chapter Three
Drakon said nothing as he walked with Zoe through the city. Why didn’t she understand? He had been given a vision. If he pleased Poseidon by defending this woman from the darkness, surely the powerful god would reward him and his family, restoring the prestige and power Drakon’s family had once possessed. He wanted that for his family, a chance to rectify the mistakes made by his ancestors who had angered the gods and regain their favor once more. He had spent his youth learning what he must to serve Poseidon, and he had been faithful to the sea god. Each day, he hoped that Poseidon would give him his heart’s desire. It hadn’t happened yet, so he continued to follow the god’s direction. Today that direction had led him to Zoe.
He had recognized Zoe instantly. Her lush black hair, her green eyes as wild as a wind-maddened sea, her full lips, her lithe body’s curves that tempted him to be wild himself. While scrying for the past two full moons, he had seen nothing but a single scene that revolved around her. Sailors had come, asking when it was safe to sail. He could not help them. He could only see Zoe in the agora. The shadow loomed like a cresting wave. He called for her to flee before the shadow overwhelmed her. The warning was clear. He must save her.
Today, he had prayed for Poseidon to clarify what he had seen. The sea god had by bringing Zoe to life in the temple. Drakon had not seen her arrive. He had barely registered her touch before she slipped into his mind and into his arms, her mouth against his. She was delicious…but irritating.
A woman must not gainsay a man’s orders. Or a god’s. Zoe should be grateful for the warning. Why had she argued, then agreed to go to where his sister lived with her husband, Kyros? Zoe had barely given Drakon time to pin his tunic back over his shoulders before walking out of the temple.
One thing he knew: she had a seer’s ability. He had sensed her gift when she kissed him. Her skill was unrefined, and she had no faith in it. He could help her control it and perhaps use it for self-defense. Was that what Poseidon wished him to do?
Drakon walked beside Zoe on the narrow dirt street between the plain walls of the houses. The sunset’s light reflected off a silver band on her left arm, searing his eyes. He breathed in her lilac perfume. He wondered if she had put it only at her throat or also beneath the sleek drapes of her chiton.
Drakon heard footsteps. He pulled Zoe back against a door as several young men raced past. One paused. His eyes glinted with mischief. A single glare from Drakon sent him chasing after the others.
“Who are they?” Zoe asked, sounding more curious than upset.
“They are why a woman should stay in her home,” Drakon said. “If they found you alone, they would expect you to pleasure them.”
“I appreciate the warning.” Zoe’s voice was melodic, like the first fresh breeze at dawn. “And I’m sorry that you’re worried about me being in your visions.”
Could she read his mind? A disturbing thought…especially when he could not keep thinking about how soft her breasts had been when she’d leaned into his chest. Her lips had tasted like the gods’ ambrosia, and he wanted another sample.
“Do you know who threatens you?” Drakon asked as they continued along the street. Food aromas drifted over walls to diminish the rank odors of the city. The shadow in his vision reeked, too. Not of chamber pots, but of evil. “Or what threatens you?”
Zoe shook her head. “I don’t want to risk being overheard.”
“That is either a clever way to avoid answering my question or good sense. I doubt it is good sense.”
“Why?” Her eyes snapped.
“Because no decent woman wanders through Athens alone. Even a prostitute, except for the lowest kind, travels with a slave or two.”
She thrust her chin toward him. “Are you calling me a whore?”
“I have no idea what to call you, because I have no idea what you are. I know only that you are a seer of some type.”
“Like you,” she fired back.
“Not like me. I am Poseidon’s oracle.”
“I thought only women were oracles.”
“My father and his father and all his fathers in an unbroken line have served as oracles for Poseidon and those who sail his waters.”
“How does it feel to be the mouthpiece for a god?”
Drakon clenched his fists and faced her. “Be respectful!”
She held up her hands. “No disrespect. Just curiosity. How do you know which words are yours and which are divine?”
“I know.” He scowled. Why did she have to be beautiful and exasperating? “As you must know, because you saw something in my bowl, too.” When she stiffened and lowered her eyes, he asked, “What did you see, Zoe?”
“None of your business.” She bent to pull a pebble from her sandal.
His breath stuck in his throat as every muscle along him hardened like stone. Her softly curved bottom invited his hands to cradle it as he pressed deep into her, watching her pretty face brighten with ecstasy.
The sound of a door closing farther along the street kept him from reaching out to pull her to him. He should be grateful, but he was not.
“It was my vision,” he said, annoyance at his irrepressible thoughts sharpening his voice. “You invaded it.”
She tossed the pebble away. She straightened and met his eyes, her arms crossed in a protective pose. “So you should know what was in it then. Why ask me?”
“Because you let me kiss you and then blamed it on the vision. Was it because of the shadow?”
“I didn’t see a shadow. I saw two people.” Her eyes narrowed. “Didn’t you see them?”
“No.” Sickness clawed at his gut. There had been two other people in his vision? He had seen only Zoe, himself and the shadow. “What were they doing?”
“Nothing much.” An attractive flush rose up her cheeks.
He smiled. Her high color and the way her eyes refused to meet his told him she had glimpsed something erotic. Such visions were a legacy from the lusty sea god who had sired Drakon’s family’s line with a nymph. Zoe had seen something sexual. With him? That thought sent a spear of need through him.
He tilted her lips toward his, no longer caring that they stood on the street or about much else as he stroked her downy cheek. His mouth hungered for hers. He wanted his arms enfolding her as their bodies melded. Her breath caught, brushing his fingers with heat. His tongue sampled her lips, then his mouth moved along her face, nibbling, licking, kissing her sweet flesh. As her arms curled up his back, she shivered like a sail in the wind. He captured her parted lips, and his tongue probed to find each succulent hidden delight.
A soft sigh of longing escaped her as she sank into him, offering an invitation he could not refuse. He ran his fingers up her spine as he tasted the pulses throbbing along her neck. They echoed through him like hoofbeats. The rhythm urged him to move with it…with her.
He was astonished when she caught his face in her hands. Naked longing burned in her green cat eyes. “Kiss me,” she whispered.
He was shocked. It was a man’s place to take the lead in the seduction, not a woman’s. Before he could say that, she drew his mouth down over hers again.
His hand slid up to fondle her breast. A quiver raced through her, and he groaned as his hardness became a pain. He needed release within her.
Her tongue darted into his mouth when his thumb brushed her nipple. It grew taut beneath his touch. Hooking a finger in the loose fabric along her chiton, he drew it aside to reveal her ripe breast. He put his mouth over its tip and he teased it with his tongue and the uneven edges of his teeth. She arched toward him, and he knew her craving was all-consuming.
The sound of a nearby shout interrupted the moment, and Zoe pushed away. Drakon released her, startled by how dark it had become. Starlight shone above, but the street was shadowed except for torches hung by doors.
When he looked at her, she had tucked her breast within her chiton. He silently cursed whoever had shouted. A few minutes more, and he doubted he would h
ave been able to let her out of his arms.
Should he be furious or should he be grateful? He looked at the shadowed street and sighed. Poseidon, strengthen me against my desires. If I am to defend her against that dark cloud, I will need your help.
Drakon waited for Zoe to speak. She did not, and neither did he as he motioned for her to follow. He was surprised—and pleased—when Zoe asked no questions. Maybe she did have some good sense. He hoped so, because he was beginning to question his own.
Chapter Four
Deep voices met them when Drakon ushered Zoe into the house. As she took off her sandals, she looked around the empty entry. Timbers held up the roof, and two oil lamps hung from a beam. Beneath her feet, the tiles were warm.
Drakon was watching her closely. Nothing must suggest she’d never been inside an Athenian house or how much she needed to cool down after his kiss. For someone who worshiped a sea god, his mouth burned like Hades.
“This way,” Drakon said, heading toward the voices.
They entered a courtyard. Zoe turned, admiring the columns that rose two stories. Open galleries overlooked them. Most of the rooms were empty except for a few benches.
She walked to a floor mosaic made of black and white tiles. The mosaic depicted Apollo, the sun god, driving a chariot drawn by four fiery horses. “This is stunning. It must have taken ages to find all those pebbles.” She started to lean down to run her fingers along the stones, but froze when she heard appreciative noise behind her. She looked over her shoulder.
Men reclined on benches in one room. Food was set on small tables before them, but their attention was on her. Their eyes rose along her, never going higher than her breasts. One leaned toward another and made a comment she couldn’t hear. The men chuckled, their gazes never leaving her body.
She resisted crossing her arms in front of her. If they wanted to make her squirm, she wasn’t going to add to their sick fun.
Drakon took her arm before she could decide which scathing comment would shrivel them the fastest. With a tug, he steered her past a trio of columns that blocked the men’s views.
“Who was that? The lechers’ society of Athens?” she asked.
“Ignore them.” Anger simmered in his voice, for once not aimed at her. “You will be safe in the women’s section. Women are not welcome in the andron.”
Zoe knew the word meant the dining room. “No problem. But where am I supposed to eat? I’m starving.”
“I am, too.” His hand on her arm eased its tight hold and slid to her shoulder. “I would like to feast on you.”
“Aren’t you a charmer?” she retorted, even as his words turned her center to molten magma, hot and churning and ready to erupt. “I say I’m starving, and all you can think of is sex.” She didn’t add that she was having a tough time keeping her own mind on anything but seeing the rest of his strong, firm body. Maybe by convincing him that she had herself under control, she could convince her rebellious libido.
Before he could answer, an elderly man with a long white beard strode toward them. He was large, but not fat. He held a bronze cup, which he drank from every few steps.
“Archippos, we are honored by your presence,” Drakon said with a smile.
“Drakon, I am pleased to see you.” His voice rumbled in his barrel chest. “I thought you might be delayed at the temple.” He glanced at Zoe and away, dismissing her as unimportant.
That rankled Zoe. She liked Athens less with every passing minute. Who had named this the cradle of democracy? Drakon made it clear that women were subservient to men, but at least he had the decency to acknowledge her. Archippos hadn’t even done that.
“I would not miss this ritual,” Drakon said.
“Yes,” Archippos replied, “a son is a reason for celebration. With the gods’ blessing, Kyros will sire many more. Now that he is in my employ, he could even provide a few dowries for daughters.” He laughed, then asked, “Have you given my offer any further thought?”
“I seek guidance every day from Poseidon.”
“Gods have eternity, so they may not answer quickly. I can give you until the next full month to decide.” He turned toward the andron. “Join us for some wine as soon as your duties are complete.” He looked down his long nose at Zoe, then walked away.
“Another charmer,” Zoe said under her breath.
Drakon clamped his arm around her shoulders and steered her in the opposite direction. “Insult me as you wish, Zoe, but not Archippos. He may be the most brilliant man ever to serve Athens.”
“Are you kissing up to him because of a job offer? What tops working for a god?”
“I would still serve Poseidon. Archippos wants to hire me to scry for the safety of his ships alone.”
“It’s said you can’t serve two masters,” Zoe said.
He winced as if she’d slapped him, and she guessed his own uncertainty about that was the reason he hesitated. “I must do what is best for my family, and being in such a position would bring them the prestige they deserve.”
“Your funeral.” She shrugged as they left the courtyard. The hallways were becoming narrow and increasingly poorly lit.. Drakon stopped by a door leading into a small courtyard. A lone woman sat on a bench at the far end. “Stay with my sister. Don’t leave for any reason. I cannot protect you if you sneak away.”
Zoe was too tired and hungry to curb her tongue. “I can take care of myself.”
“I am not so certain of that.” Fury sparked in his eyes once more.
Hoping that the women’s section was as off-limits to him as the rest of the house was to her, Zoe walked into the courtyard. She looked over her shoulder at Drakon. Their gazes connected, and the distance between them telescoped to nothing. She’d hurt him with that insult, and she should apologize. Before she could, though, he walked away.
She’d thought she’d gotten used to feeling alone since she’d screwed up that court martial.
She hadn’t.
During a banquet, starting with olives and ending with figs, Zoe sat close to where Charis rocked her son’s cradle with one foot. Even without being introduced, Zoe would have known that Charis was Drakon’s sister. Both had silver eyes and thick, black curls. Because the baby was only ten days old, Charis looked tired.
Two other women joined them. The shorter, voluptuous one was Dorcas. Euthalia was as rotund as a child’s ball.
Each dish passed to Zoe brought images of the family. She saw other gatherings where the women were banished to this courtyard. The men drank themselves into oblivion while girls played the flute and young boys kept the wine goblets filled. Even though she found the separation of the sexes uncomfortable, the Athenians didn’t.
“I appreciate you welcoming me to your son’s naming,” Zoe said.
“You are blessed he is healthy.”
“I had skilled help at his birth.” Charis looked hastily away.
“Was Agnodice your midwife?”
“How do you know her name?” Fear filled her eyes. “You are not of Athens. You should not know…” She shut her mouth, clearly afraid she’d said too much.
Zoe leaned forward. “I’m not your enemy, and I’m not Agnodice’s. I came to Athens because I need her help.”
“Are you with child?”
“No, but I have been told that she will be able to help me with another matter.”
“There is no other matter that would make Agnodice risk being discovered by our husbands.”
Zoe frowned. “Why would she be fearful of your husbands?”
“Because she is a woman,” Euthalia said in a whisper, “and no woman is allowed by Athenian law to be a midwife. Only men.”
“And your husbands are okay—I mean, they accept another man with you when you are giving birth?” Zoe had no idea if okay translated into ancient Greek.
The women glanced at each other. Charis answered, “No, they will not allow a man to assist us. Nor can we help each other because to be present at too many births can make a wom
an sterile.”
Zoe wanted to grasp them by the shoulders and shake some sense into their heads. “So you’ve had to give birth all alone?”
“Sometimes there are older women in the household who help. Agnodice grew furious at how many women died because they needed guidance during the birthing. She disguises herself as a man and comes to assist. Because no man can endure being present during the long process of birthing, our husbands have never learned the truth of her sex or even that she was there.”
The women laughed, and Zoe smiled. The Athenian women were not defeated. A sense of sisterhood gave them strength to face their everyday lives. Esprit de corps. She hadn’t expected to discover that here.
“And,” Euthalia said, “Agnodice never leaves anything behind that would betray her. She carries her herbs and knives and teeth clamper in a bag she wears.”
“Teeth clamper?” Zoe shuddered. “Is that a torture device?”
Charis smiled. “It allows a woman to clench her teeth without injuring them or her tongue. Agnodice uses a small bronze piece.”
“A broken piece of bronze?” Zoe sat up straighter. Could it be? The star medallion was bronze, but so were a lot of things in Athens.
Charis nodded.
“Was it embossed or etched?” Zoe asked.
“I did not look closely.” Charis turned to the other women. “Did you notice anything on the bronze?”
Dorcas gave them a superior smile. “I did not need to put it between my teeth. But when she offered it to me, I saw it bore the stars of the Great Bear.”
Zoe grasped the bottom of the bench. It had to be one of the missing pieces of the star medallion. The Great Bear was the constellation she called the Big Dipper.
Trying to keep her voice from shaking with excitement, she asked, “Where does Agnodice live?”
“I must not reveal that,” Charis said. “However, I can send her a message that you wish to speak with her. She usually is quick to respond. If she is willing to see you, I can arrange for you to meet.”
Could it be that simple? Zoe wanted to jump up and dance, but that would shock these staid Athenian matrons.
The Greek Lover Page 2
