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Authors: Kerry Greenwood

Tags: #Historical Fiction

BOOK: Electra
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'I think so,' I had to talk to this degraded woman. I found two needles and gave her one, and she sat down to bundle up the hem of her own delicate robe with uneven stitches. I did not like to see beautiful weaving so mishandled, so I said, 'Let me do it.'

She smiled at me. 'I have never managed to learn sewing. I'm a healer, that's my skill,' she observed, shedding the outer robe so that I could work on it. Her body was almost bare under the northern chiton, which is slit up to the thighs on both sides, a garment that only a heterai, a courtesan, would wear.

I made a neat seam along the chiton and the undergarment, then started on my own. She watched me and commented, 'You sew beautifully.'

'It's easy,' I said, for it sounded like an honest compliment. I had not had much to do with other people. My mother's house was not happy, but it confined me in propriety to her company and those of the slaves. This woman was neither sister nor slave and I did not know how to talk to her. I had never met a courtesan before. I said, 'See? Just don't drag the needle through and it won't snag.' She began to copy my action, though she was clumsy.

'This must be your skill,' she said, sucking a pricked finger.

'You said that before. Not my skill alone, but the skill of all women. We are required to spin, card, weave and sew to supply the household. It is the mark of a good woman.'

'Good as in virtuous?' she asked, and I nodded.

'Good women do not stray abroad, gossiping; we do not visit other women and drink wine, even at festivals. We stay in the women's quarters, make clothes, supervise the slaves, and make all comfortable for our Lord when he returns.'

'I see. So you have no learning?'

'We do not need learning,' I said, a little stiffly.

She nodded and asked, 'Who tends you in childbirths? Physicians?'

'Indeed no, what an idea!' I was shocked. 'Good women never look into the eyes of a man, not even a relative, not even her husband. Midwives and wise women come to a birth. Of course, the baby is not named until the father has accepted it.'

'What if he doesn't accept it?'

I realised that she was a complete stranger to all civilisation and went on, talking more than I usually do. 'Then it is exposed, of course. That's why women say that one must not get fond of a child before it is a week old, because it may be rejected.'

'Princess, are you telling me that unless an Argive father accepts a child it is killed?' she asked, abandoning all attempt at hemming.

'Not killed, exposed; laid out on the hillside. If there's anything wrong with it, too, if it's deformed or a girl. Fathers require sons. My family is unusual because there are three girls before… No, there are two girls now.'

Cassandra did not speak, but held my hand gently as I remembered that one of the daughters of the Royal House of Atreus had been sacrificed by her own father. Iphigenia, my favourite sister, so gentle and beautiful, who had taught me the fast looping hemstitch which I was using.

I had a rare flash of memory. The dark hair falling glossy from the silver fillet, her almond eyes bent on me, her red mouth smiling. A smell of spring in the air, and the tinkle of little bells as my sister moved. 'Now, little Electra, don't pull the thread so tight, and the material will lie perfectly flat. If you finish the whole seam, I will give you a bit of honeycomb which father sent from Troizen.'

My mind shied off the thought of our father's death. That was something which I must not think of yet. I dragged myself back to the present and said, 'You will need to learn it all, Cassandra, if your Lord marries you to an Argive.'

'I have no Lord, and I will never marry an Argive,' she said firmly.

I realised that she was mad, and I was sorry for her.

When the men returned they found us sitting like friends at the hearth, sewing cat-scratch stitches on Orestes' spare tunic.

'Good news and good bargaining, we have horses and I think we'd better go,' announced Eumides.

Cassandra rolled her possessions into a compact bundle and swung her heavy cloak over her shoulder.

'Just how good a bargain?' she asked suspiciously, and the sailor grinned, showing missing teeth.

'A very good bargain,' he emphasised.

'Come along, Princess.' She rolled my burden for me. 'Eumides' very good bargains can cause trouble.'

She extinguished the fire and we left the hut, blinking in the sunlight. It was a cool spring day and the hills were covered in flowering nettles.

Four horses stood outside. On one of them Diomenes was riding, with Orestes sitting before him. Cassandra, laying her bundle on a tall black horse, leapt unaided onto its back. She gathered up the reins like a man and said, 'Hssh, beast.' The horse, which had reared, came down onto all its hoofs again, looking embarrassed. Eumides secured my burden to the saddle with straps and then lifted me up.

'I can't ride!' I gasped as I came down astride and blushed for shame.

'You'll have to learn,' said the sailor impatiently. 'It's too far to walk. And we'd better get away before-'

'Before those horse merchants find out that the gold was actually bronze?' suggested Cassandra.

'Copper,' he corrected her, and she laughed aloud.

I was travelling with a mad whore and an escaped slave and a thief. However, it was pleasant to be out of the hut, though I was so high up that I clutched the saddle in fear. Orestes looked happy. He was sitting almost on the horse's neck, with Diomenes' arm around his waist so that he couldn't fall, and he was looking eagerly along the road. I heard him say, 'Look, Lord, smoke!'

'Now I wonder what that can be,' mused Diomenes. 'The road's taking us there, so we'll find out. Listen, son of Agamemnon. I know you're a prince and a child of the House of Atreus, but you will have to obey certain rules if we are to arrive in Delphi alive. The first rule is that if we say run, then run; run and hide. Don't stop for anything. Is that clear?'

'Yes, Lord,' said my brother.

'The other is that we do not announce who we are, our names or lineage, to any chance-met companion. Enemies may be looking for us to do us harm.'

'But, Lord Diomenes,' Orestes said, a little shocked, 'names and titles must be proclaimed at first meeting. It is a matter of honour. It is the duty of all men to be honourable.'

'We are aiming to be both honourable and alive at the end of this journey, Orestes, and that may require some ingenuity. Did you ever meet Odysseus, Prince of Ithaca?'

'Yes, certainly. He was a friend of our father; he used to bring us presents from the other side of the world.'

'The Lord Odysseus of Ithaca employs guile, and his honour is intact - so far,' said Diomenes drily. 'So shall ours be. Off you go, horse.'

Cassandra, observing me in difficulties, gathered up the reins of my horse and said to it, 'Come along
,
Banthos. Don't be difficult.' And the animal, which had been dancing on its hoofs and trying to scrape me off against a tree, became biddable and followed along after Cassandra.

'I think I'll call this horse Nefos,' she said, managing her own beast and mine with ease. 'Black cloud, it's a good name and fits his temperament. You've never ridden before, have you? It's not difficult. Sit down on the horse and press your knees into its sides. If you think you are going to fall off, sit up straight. If you start to fall off, sit up straighter, grip tighter, and don't grab for the mane. There, see? Easy. And more pleasant than walking on those sore feet.'

It was, as she said, much better than walking. Once I found the trick of balancing the easy pace did not jolt me, and I had time to look around. The valley was wide and beautiful, shimmering silver with olives and green with vines. The sun warmed my back and the horse was behaving. I had never been so far in the open before. The world was unexpectedly big and interesting to someone who had looked at walls all of her life.

The road was smooth and empty. Although I closed my eyes when
Banthos
strayed too close to the edge, where fallen rocks lay among trampled weeds to show how steep the slope was, I was not very frightened. One of my chambers had been painted with a fresco of flowers. Tall purple loosestrife, small purple orchids, yellow daisies, rock roses and red poppies, the blood of the Slain God, Adonis. The colours had always seemed overbright, but now they burned on the mountainside, real, sharp, almost blinding to sheltered eyes.

I drew my veil aside for a moment and blinked in the sun. I think it was happiness that sent a shaft through me. I haven't much experience of it so I don't know.

We had travelled around the bulk of the mountains on thin, winding goat trails when we smelt smoke again. A strong stench of mingled flesh and wood. Cassandra jerked at the rein, bringing
Banthos
and me close to
Nefos
. The horses whinnied, and Cassandra called, 'Chryse, I know that smell. Shall we dare it and ride through?'

'The road takes us there, and there's no other path - I doubt we could get the horses over the mountains,' said Eumides. 'Surprise is best - they will probably be feasting in the ruins, Argive dogs! There was a village here, just goatherds and fellmongers. They sold us good leather to make bags when we came through. I remember the road. If it's blocked, we'll make a fight of it - they're just bandits.'

Cassandra gave me the reins and, of all things, accepted a bow which she bent and strung in a most professional manner. She was not just a slave and a whore, but an Amazon. She tied back her hair at the nape of her neck. Her eyes were hard. I was wary of her.

'Maiden, listen,' said Eumides to me. 'Soon we'll come into a village. The road runs out on the other side of the square. All you have to do is dig your heels into your mount and go straight for the road. Don't wait for us. We'll be right behind you.'

'That is true. I have not been rescued from slavery to be stopped by an Achaean bandit,' Cassandra said through her teeth. 'Come on.'

We increased speed as the road flattened out and widened, and came suddenly into what had been a small settlement, made mostly of mud houses with wooden roofs. These were aflame.

I heard wailing in the ruins, the scream of a woman, and saw a partly-armoured man lift his helmet from a pile of broken potsherds and cry a warning. Shouts rose from the wreckage. Three men with spears came running.

I sat down on Banthos, kicked him hard, and he responded. I could see the opening between two burning houses, and in a gush of flame which singed my veil we were through the gap and into the road. I would have turned back, but Banthos had been goaded into galloping, and he kept galloping, despite my tugging at the reins. I was jolted and bounced out of breath and so bruised that I could hardly find a spot that didn't hurt by the time I brought him to a halt.

He walked a little onto the verge and began grazing. I did not want to get off, because I doubted if I could get back on again, so I sat uncomfortably in the saddle and listened for a sound on the road, as the heartless beast cropped mouthfuls of rich grass.

I was just telling Banthos that I was a princess and that he ought to do as I so civilly requested, when the others caught up. Orestes was wrapped around Diomenes, his head against the Asclepid's chest and his arms around his neck.

I hauled Banthos out of the hedge and turned him.

Diomenes saw my face and said quickly, 'No, maiden, he's not hurt, I bade him hide his face. There, boy, you can look now. We are all safe and we'd better keep going.'

'The village? Who did it?' I asked. 'Surely not the victorious army?'

'Bandits. Agamemnon was gone so long that the old order has almost broken down. There was a drought two years ago, and the crops failed. Since then it has been banditry on the land and piracy on the sea. The state of the Argolid is very evil. Luckily Cassandra is Amazon-trained and a dead shot.'

He turned to Cassandra. 'I would have been more careful, Lady, when I spoke to you over the walls at Troy, had I known you were so good an archer.'

'Even an unskillful archer cannot miss a target an arm's length away. I fought with Hector in the battles, of course, but only as a rear-guard. I was never more than a passable shot.'

'You fought in the battles, Cassandra?' I asked, nearly dropping a rein.

'Yes, that is our custom. Trojan women fight in their own defence, Electra.'

'Are there really such people as Amazons?' asked Orestes. 'Surely there are no women who can fight.'

'If I had not hidden your face, boy, you would have seen the Lady Cassandra fighting. Of course the Amazons are real. I myself saw them at Troy.'

'Tell me about them,' insisted Orestes.

'As we ride,' said Diomenes. 'We've got a long way to go before dark.'

III

I have won my bet. Cassandra and Diomenes are lovers now,' Aphrodite said.

'Very well, Lady of Cyprus,' said Apollo, baring perfect teeth. 'You may keep the apple, but I will not forget. Your Princess is not safe yet. There are many perils between Mycenae and Delphi.'

'Make your peace,' grumbled Demeter, Earth-Mother. 'Leave the poor mortals alone. Their life is short enough, their danger immediate, their chance of lasting satisfaction sketchy at best. They have suffered enough. Merciless and cruel, that is the nature of the children of Zeus.

'Besides, you are bidden to attend to the fate of the House of Atreus, more wicked, more dreadful even than the Gods.

'Did not Atreus cook his wife's adulterous fruit in a banquet for his brother Thyestes? Did not Thyestes then rape his own virgin daughter, Poseidon's Priestess, to father the revenge-child Aegisthus? And isn't that Aegisthus now lying with the Queen Clytemnestra in her husband's heart's blood?

'Do these outrages, and your Divine Father's order, mean nothing to you, children of Chaos and Death?'

'The child Orestes and the maiden Electra are alive,' said Athena. 'There will be revenge.'

'There has been too much revenge,' said Demeter.

Apollo's laugh was as child-like and as sweet as the sound of little bells.

Cassandra

I don't like war. I shot that bandit when he was so close that I could see every missing scale on his stolen mail-shirt. They weren't soldiers; they were just hungry men, driven to desperation by Agamemnon's neglect of his kingdom. But I killed the man, anyway, before he could throw the spear which was aimed directly at Eumides' back. The others ran away, which was sensible of them.

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