Aries Fire (8 page)

They were truly luxurious and well made shoes, more comfortable than walking on Oriental silk.

Seira grabbed a pile of shoes.  They were the finest leather sandals, woven neatly.  Some slipped on easily and matched her dresses. She looked around for polished bronze in which to see her reflection. That was one thing Alexander didn’t supply. 

The purple beaded slippers were very regal. Yes, they’d come in handy.  She took the plain cloth ones, too, in case she needed to pose as a pauper. 

Not all of the shoes fit, but she made up for that by choosing others of equal beauty and style.  All total she had taken twelve new pair. That seemed too many.  She weeded through them laboriously. It was hard to choose.  Five. Yes, that would be enough, one for every occasion. Although she was sure that she would encounter more than five occasions in the near future, she didn’t want to seem ungrateful. 

Seira stowed her new shoes into her bag, packed the discarded ones, and refastened the hook. She kicked the schooling pouch out of the way and dragged the case to the other side of her door. She kept the jeweled pair near the cot. She would have to wash her perfume-stained clothes another time, but her hair couldn’t wait.

A tired leg kicked clothes over mathematics books. Hands moved quickly and ripped off her dress.  She stuck her head into the bucket of dirty lemon water and rubbed her fingers through her scalp until she was sure that her skin was pink.  Her head flipped back and her hair whipped against her neck; cold droplets ran down her back.  She pushed her palms through her wet hair and caused a tiny waterfall to cascade over the river of droplets.

She was satisfied with her quick cleansing and pulled a plain, wrinkled linen tunic from the bunk and covered herself. This one was somehow protected from her earlier escapade.  She laid down on the bunk to rest and thought it was a convenient time to plan her escape from Lem. 

It took only a second before she realized that her mind didn’t want to be a part of political intrigue. Her mother quietly crept into her thoughts, floating in a clear memory.

She remembered how Hypatia walked through the salon once, about a year past.  It was late and most of the students had gone.  A few remained to discuss the theories of Plato and Hypatia’s viewpoint. 

Seira sat and read the works of Petosiris, a famous Egyptian astrologer priest who lived almost twelve hundred years before her time. Not much remained of his writings, but fortunately for her, Hypatia and Theon had founded the most prominent Academy in Egypt.  It boasted an extensive library, second only to those in Greece. She spent most of her time pretending to read philosophy, but instead, read anything she could about the stars.

The murmurs of the students stopped when her mother gathered her belongings and breezed from the room like a desert wind; dry, warm, and leaving the audience unmistakably thirsty. Seira saw how they stroked Hypatia with their eyes; admiration mixed with yearning, even the young women adored her. The men longed to touch her, as simple as that. She could hear their bodies groan with desire even though their mouths said nothing. 

Even though she had been witness to that situation countless times, it wasn’t until now that she understood something about it. She now understood how it felt to be the recipient of want.  A deep need for understanding arose in her.  Perhaps it was the way the students looked at her mother; the way the crew looked at her that intrigued Seira.  Was it debauched or merely primitive admiration?

She massaged her neck and stretched it, thankful for a place to lie upon.  Her fingers were gentle against her soft skin.  The touch of hands on skin made her question. 

Why did mother shun affection? 

It felt so good to be touched.  She lifted her arms into the air and lightly ran her fingers down the inside of her forearm.  Seira’s body suddenly came alive as if she’d been unaware of a lifetime of numbness. She tried to remember if she had felt this aroused at any time in Egypt.  She wasn’t able to think for very long while she tickled herself.

She thought about Alexander’s fingers.  She loved the way he took her face firmly in his hands with such agility and purpose. She felt the same type of arousal, but he wasn’t perverse; the feeling wasn’t anything except…misexcept everything.  That’s what it was, a pleasing sensation in one area of the body before it flooded everywhere else.  If only he didn’t stop.  If only…

‘Oh, Koboudan, I couldn’t,’ I say as he grabs my arm and licks my wrist.  ‘No.  Don’t.  Not here.  Let’s go on deck so that the tempest wind can dry the sweat on our bodies.’ 

Her body throbbed as she lay on the cot; eyes closed, and imagined what would be possible with Alexander.

‘I follow him to where we stand naked on the bow. No, wait. Better yet, we climb up the ropes to the mast.’

She saw it all as if it were real. Desire swept through her. It urged her to continue the fantasy.

‘I climb first and he bites my heels as we ascend. He reaches up and takes hold of my buttocks as our bodies become entwined in the ropes.’

Her eyes flew open.  Should she think such things?  Why not?  She stared at the wooden beams above her head and then at the door. Who was going to censure her fantasies?  No one would dare enter her room without permission. Seira moved her hand down to fondle the soft skin on her inner thigh. She closed her eyes.

‘He kisses me again. His tongue searches my mouth.’

She rolled onto her side, took the corner of the blanket between her teeth, and moaned. She felt an arousing throbbing sensation between her legs. She didn’t care if anyone heard her.  There was no denying this feeling.  Her muscles tightened and released their grip. She wanted to be next to him. It was more than a perfunctory feeling.  She wanted to be a part of him somehow.

‘He pushes up against me. I feel his hardness on my thighs and the rough threads of the rope on my exposed buttocks.’

She put her wrist between her legs and gave the throbbing needed pressure. Hips rocked back and forth, vaguely aware that all five fingers had gone slightly numb.  Her heart beat faster and she almost lost her breath.

‘He rocks back and forth against me, his penis pushes into my stomach.  My mouth opens to receive his tongue that searches for the back of my throat. His hands hold me tightly.’

Seira undulated rhythmically atop the bunk. The sensation built to a blinding ecstasy that exploded and shot through her.  Her head, buried in the pillow, jolted back.

“Ah.  Hah.”

She caught her breath. She wiped the sweat from her brow then sat up abruptly, knees curled up to her chest.  She covered her face and suddenly cried without reason.

She scolded herself, but the tears wouldn’t stop.  She was unmistakably lonely.  Had it always been there trapped alongside sleeping passion?  She wiped the tears and let her long legs fall clumsily to the floor.

A bang on the door.

“Mistress?  Seira? Are you unwell?”

She sniffed, calming herself before opening the door.

“Here,” she said to Lem. She handed him the waste and dirty water buckets.  “Dispose of these, please.”

He reached for the covered buckets and with a sympathetic voice said, “Flatulence?  I, as well.” He rubbed his stomach.  “It’s the apples,” he nodded in conclusion. 

With buckets in his hands, he closed the door with his foot. Seira lay down again, but this time went into a long and peaceful sleep. She wanted nothing more of fantasies for a while.

As the day passed, Seira didn’t know if desire for a man showed on her face or in her actions so she made certain to stay out of the Captain’s way by remaining in her cabin. In her time alone, she had discovered an overpowering and stimulating sensuality that left her changed somehow and she didn’t want to unwittingly expose it.  She believed it could be utilized to aid her in not only being an influential woman, but also in truly being a woman.  Seira believed that to know a man physically could help her to become a woman.

In her fantasy of Alexander, they were as physical as two lovers could have been. There was a closeness she had already felt with him. In Seira’s mind, that could be the only reason why her fantasy was so potent.  It occurred to her that she wanted to be intimate with him more than she wanted to be sexual. She didn’t know exactly what that meant or how to go about defining it, so she left the thought alone. One distinct overall impression remained, however… Seira felt freer, not so confined within her body. A dull headache that plagued her for days suddenly disappeared.

A faint tapping on her door distracted Seira from her thoughts.

“Mistress?” 

Seira rose slowly from the edge of her cot and opened the door enough to see Lem’s large and drooping face.

“Will you not come up and take some supper?” 

“I’m not too hungry, it seems, Lem.  I’ll stay in for now.”  Before she closed the door, Seira opened it wider and took hold of Lem’s arm.

“Thank you, Lem,” she said. 

He nodded deliberately to acknowledge her.

Seira stood and stared at the portal.  She thought about attending to her belongings, but her more immediate matter was escaping from Lem and traveling the distance to Jerusalem.  According to Alexander, the Ishtar would see Ashkelon by early morning the latest.  At least she had a little time to plan.

She quickly spilled her coins onto the table and counted—five hundred.  She had enough to last a while.

Thank you, dear and generous, Theon. 

A streak of light spread across her hand that sat fisted on the wooden table.  She looked up at the portal. The sun would set in a few hours.  Seira thought it was perhaps time to rejoin the activities about the ship and extract information where she could. She stuffed the coins into her hidden waist purse, left her cabin, and walked topside.

The air was fresh and it encouraged her to stroll about the deck. Lem was playing his odds at coin toss.  He looked up and saw her. She waved for him to continue his fun.  These men weren’t going to bother her. She knew it as well as Lem.

 They neared the coastal port of Tel Ajiul.  Ashkelon wasn’t far according to the crewman’s talk. She was optimistic and in a pleasant mood. The ocean was a beautiful color.  She actually began to enjoy the motion of the Ishtar atop the water.  It matched the unusual calm in her body. Leaning against the gunwale she closed her eyes and felt the spray on her face.  The wind picked up and the ship sailed at a pace that suited Seira.

Alexander soon approached.

“Thank you for the shoes,” she said, smiling and pointing her right foot in his direction.  The garnet and amethyst stones sparkled.

“It’s a small token.  We are honored by your presence.”

“What types of merchandise do you carry, aside from shoes and fish?” 

The cool air and sporadic ocean spray tickled her neck and enticed her to play.

“Oh, fabrics, clay, sometimes fruit, but usually there is no usual.  Whomever has the money to hire us is the best policy.”

“Like Theon?” 

She ran her fingers across her forehead, over her ear, and pulled her hair gently out toward the undulating sea.  Each wisp was taken up by the wind before she glanced toward the ocean again. The strands of flying hair teased and tickled her face. It was more than sensual comfort and more than a sexual feeling.  It was an almost all consuming pleasure, but not the erupting pleasure she felt on her cot.  Seira felt like she was floating in honey.  It was a sweet, slow wave of ecstasy that needed no release. She hadn’t felt this free before much less inclined to knowingly and publicly exhibit this behavior. Seira smiled and invited him into her sensual dance. 

“We don’t usually carry people as cargo,” he laughed.

He smiled as he watched her take delight in the sea-spray, breeze, and flying hair. 

“I made an exception in this case,” he said.

“I see,” she said with her eyes closed, head tilted back.

Alexander lightly stroked the back of her hand then suddenly pulled away.

“Shall I tell you more about Jerusalem?” he asked, clearing his throat.

“Oh, yes,” she said. Seira gave him her full attention. “If you have time now,” she smiled.  Oddly, she felt more considerate of his duties. 

She sat directly at his feet and leaned back on her slender arms.  He seemed unprepared for such a watchful audience. He turned and leaned his back against the gunwale and looked down at her, almost uncertain of her.  She reached her hand out and touched his sandal to break the awkward moment.

“I’ve spent a few memorable nights in Jerusalem,” he said suddenly, moving his foot enough to be out of her reach. “It’s a holy city with temples and beautiful mosaics and colorful market places.  I’m surprised a girl of your background has never traveled there,” he said.

“I had a lot of studying to do in Alexandria.  My mother and grandfather headed the Library there. We traveled little. I always wanted to be near them. I believe family, whether blood or allied ties, to be very high on the list of blessings.”  Seira shielded the sun from her eyes.  “A sacred thing.”

Strange how I never thought this while with my family, though, she thought soberly.

“To be sure,” he agreed. “Family is a sacred thing in my eyes as well.”  He stopped abruptly and nodded to a passing crewman. “In Jerusalem you’d find many sacred things, Ashkelon as well, as it’s a popular trade port with countless sights to suit the likes of many. That is, if you were going to remain there for more than a few hours.” 

Discomfited panic split through her as she lifted herself from the boards.

“I thought you were unloading and loading more stuff or whatever it is you do?” she asked, dusting off her clothes.

“We’re only delivering the fabrics, shoes, and fish barrels.  We’ll be taking on more wares for Cyprus.  We won’t need more than four or five hours total.  I like to give my men an hour or two to get their land-legs back. Of course, you and your escort will remain on board.”

“Oh, of course,” she replied.

Damn him to Hades. 

Seira was distracted while trying to create an escape route.

“Do you have family there?” she suddenly blurted.