Hope of Earth (30 page)

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Authors: Piers Anthony

BOOK: Hope of Earth
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“It would be almost sacrilegious to weave even one thread of this sacred work,” Wona said. “We are not
ergastinai,
the approved matrons.”

“So let’s do it,” Jes said wickedly.

But before they could properly orient on the pattern and find the correct thread, the pursuit burst in. The delay had not been at all long; their amazement at their discovery had made it seem more. Two guards stopped to stare suspiciously at them. Probably other chambers were being checked at the same time, so the guards had no way of knowing which one held the fugitives. That didn’t mean that Jes and Wona were safe, just that they had a chance. If they could bluff well enough.

They both paused with their hands lifted, as if interrupted amidst their joint labor on the tapestry. Both stared at the intruders with startled innocence. Jes had just recently learned the expression, and hoped she had it right.

One guard studied Wona, who still looked ambitiously female despite hunching down to seem less so. “That one could be the woman.” He turned to stare at Jes. “But that’s not the youth.”

“He’s beardless,” the other said. “Might be him.”

Jes took the initiative. “Why are you staring at me?” she asked. “Don’t you louts have better things to do than intrude on the work of temple matrons?”

The first guard hesitated, but then decided. “You could be him. We’ll take you to the head priestess.”

That would be disaster. Jes knew she had to act quickly and decisively to avert such a step. That meant either grabbing a weapon and trying to disable them silently, which was surely a hopeless effort, or satisfying them that she really was a woman.

They stepped toward her. She set one foot on her own hem and stood up suddenly, in alarm that was genuine, though not for the reason she wished to convey. The foot anchored the robe, preventing it from rising with her, and it pulled down off her right shoulder, exposing her breasts.

“Oh!” she exclaimed, in only half-feigned mortification. She quickly hauled her robe back up as she inhaled and arched her back, making her modest bosom stand out just before it was covered.

The men stopped. “That’s no stripling,” one muttered. Then, embarrassed, they turned and exited the chamber.

Jes sat back on the stool, weak with relief. Her heart was pounding, and she felt her face flushing. In that moment she remembered an episode with Ned, when they had taken wares for trading to a distant city and she had distracted bad men by wearing a string skirt. That, too, might have been fun, had there not been peril.

“Well played!” Wona said. “You showed them just enough, in a brief flash, so that their male eyes exaggerated the effect, and you also forced a maidenly blush.”

“Half of it was accident,” Jes said.

“Then make sure it’s not an accident next time. Show men only flashes, not the full display, until such time as they are committed. You could also have remained sitting.”

“But then the robe wouldn’t have come off.”

“Like so.” Wona swung her legs around toward Jes, and her robe failed to follow perfectly, so that one thigh and the dark crevice between thighs lay open to view. It was very clear that Wona was no man.

“Oh.” That might indeed have been easier.

“But your way was good too,” Wona said. “With that maidenly exclamation. In that instant you seemed as female as it is possible to be.”

“Thank you.” But Jes knew that they weren’t safe yet. “How do we escape before the real priestesses return?”

Wona reflected. “We may just have to walk out as we are. But it’s too soon to make the attempt; the guards are still searching. So let’s weave our thread.”

Jes nodded. They addressed the tapestry, studying the pattern, and solemnly wove in one thread. No one would notice, but they would know that they were part of the most famous garment in Greece.

By then, enough time had passed. They went to the corner and recovered their hidden things, and also strapped their daggers back on to their inner thighs, just in case.

Then they heard someone coming. They dived back to the stools and addressed the tapestry again. Jes’s staff made a clatter as she hurled it back into the corner.

A single, mature woman entered. She wore a tiara bearing an owl, and a necklace of beads carved in the likeness of olives, another symbol of Athene. Her quality saffron robe identified her clearly: she was the head priestess!

The woman’s glance was imperious. “Come with me,” she said. “Bring your things.”

Jes exchanged a wary look with Wona. Did the priestess know? Or were there so many novice priestesses that she simply didn’t recognize them all? But then why was she ordering them to go with her? Was she going to turn them in to the male authorities?

There didn’t seem to be much choice. They stood, and Jes fetched her staff. They followed the priestess out of the chamber.

She led them through convoluted passages to an opulent chamber in another part of the temple. “The goddess saw fit to shield you from the guards’ eyes, and we will not presume to go against her will. But you must leave. We can not afford scandal in the Temple of Athene. There has been no episode. The guards were confused. Depart by this rear exit.” She opened a door that led directly outside. “Never speak of this. Agreed?”

Jes and Wona exchanged another glance. Then both nodded. The head priestess was letting them go!

The woman left by the internal door. Alone, they quickly changed back to their original aspects, Jes becoming male. Then they walked out the back way as man and woman.

“She knew,” Jes murmured as they got clear of the temple.

“She knew,” Wona agreed. “She saw that we were harmless, and she did not want blood on her floors. So she got rid of us much the way we got rid of the guards, with minimum fuss. She is not our friend.”

“But neither is she our enemy. To that we owe our lives.”

“We owe our lives,” Wona agreed soberly. “I think I will not look for men any more there, lest she change her mind.”

They walked back to their apartment. The day was a failure, in the main sense, but perhaps not entirely.

Another day they visited the port city of Piraeus, which was connected to Athens by a set of long walls that enclosed the road to north and south. The walls were fortified throughout, and there were cross-walls so that even if an enemy force got between the main walls, there would be no easy access to the cities of Athens or Piraeus. The bowmen on the walls were relaxed, now that the enemy was gone, but it was clear that they could devastate a hostile force if the need came.

Piraeus was much smaller than Athens, but interesting because of its harbors and the ships in them. The stately trieres were there, moving out on their two sails, their oarsmen resting. Jes was fascinated. She was familiar with the type of ship, but had never actually been on one. “To think they have to pay oarsmen to serve on those,” she said. “I would do it for food.”

“How much do they pay the captain?”

“The trierarch? Nothing, usually. It’s a public duty for citizens of high standing, lasting a year. He has to outfit the ship and pay the crew. The city is supposed to pay for it all, but that can take time, and meanwhile he has to cover it all himself. That’s why so few ever volunteer for this duty.”

“No wonder, if it costs them a fortune instead of making them a fortune!” Then Wona’s mind fixed on another aspect. “That means the captains have to be rich to start with.”

“Yes. That’s why it is limited to citizens of high standing. Others would not be able to afford it.”

“So such a citizen would be a good one to many.”

Now Jes got her drift. “Yes, if he needed a wife.”

“Suddenly I am interested in trieres.”

Jes shook her head. “It’s the wealthy or prominent citizens you are interested in. During the year they serve on ship, they aren’t available at home. You need to catch one before or after his public service.”

“But by the same token, he will be in need of female companionship during that year, and perhaps less choosy about it. It is surely a good time to make the acquaintance.”

“There are hetaerae in plenty for such needs.” Those were the women of easy virtue. It was an honorable profession, but not what Wona was looking for.

“When the ship is abroad?”

Jes considered. “I suppose not when it is between ports. But you don’t like roughing it in die country, any better than any other woman does.”

Wona sighed. “True. So Athens remains the best hunting ground.”

Jes agreed. She hoped Wona would find a suitable man soon, because she was getting homesick for her family. Sam should have returned by now, with his trading goods, and would be adjusting to the loss of Wona. Ned would be free of her. New things would be happening. Even if life was lean, it was her life, and she wanted it back.

Sam viewed his home farm with evident joy. “This is where I live,” he told Snow. “Now you can marry my brother Ned.”

Snow smiled, though she was oddly sad. “I haven’t met him yet. He may not like me.”

“Any man will like you, once he knows you. You are beautiful.”

How she wished such words were sincere! “You are kind to say so, Sam.”

Soon the approaching pair was spied. A young girl sounded the alarm and charged across the landscape to meet them. Then she halted, realizing that one of them was a stranger.

“My little sister Lin,” Sam said, beckoning to the girl.

“She is lovely.”

“Like you,” he said.

“No, I mean she really is. She is about to be an outstanding woman.”

Sam did not reply, but his jaw tightened. That was odd. He clearly loved his sister, but there was something he wasn’t saying. The girl certainly was beautiful in face and body, unlike Snow, who had only body. What was his reservation?

Shy, now, Lin approached. “Who—”

“This is Snow,” Sam said. “She has come to marry Ned.”

“To meet Ned,” Snow said quickly. Sam was a wonderful man, but somewhat short on social finesse.

Lin turned an abruptly appraising gaze on Snow. “Maybe so,” she said after a moment. “Flo will decide.”

“Flo will decide,” Snow agreed, relieved that there was someone else to make such decisions. What would be, would be.

“Snow is really nice,” Sam said, defensively. “Ned will like her.”

Lin considered a moment more. Then she smiled brilliantly, as if something wonderful had just happened. “I’ll tell Flo!” She spun about and ran back toward the farm, exuberantly leaping across rocks and plants.

“Lin’s a great kid,” Sam said as they followed more sedately.

“Any moment now she will be a lovely young woman,” Snow said firmly. What was the mystery about her?

Sam stared hard at the ground. “I think I must tell you. Did you see her hand?”

“Yes. Her fingers are delicate and well formed.” Then she realized that she had seen only the girl’s right hand. The left had been kept out of sight. “Something is wrong with the left hand?”

“She has six fingers.”

Suddenly it came together. “You say Lin is lovely, like me. You mean that one feature spoils all the rest.”

Sam looked everywhere but at her. “I didn’t mean—”

“She has a deformed hand. I have a homely face.”

“I don’t care about either!” Sam exclaimed. “I love—” He balked, flustered. “I love my sister.”

He was socially clumsy, yet of good motive. Snow wished that he weren’t already married. She would marry his brother, who was surely a fine young man, but she knew already that he could never be the same as Sam.

Now two figures appeared: Lin and a massive older woman. That would be Flo, the true leader of the family. Snow felt suddenly nervous. Where would she go, if Flo rejected her?

The four of them came together. Flo took the initiative. “Hello, Sam. Hello, Snow. We must talk.”

“I brought her home for—” Sam started.

“Of course. Sam, you go catch up with the others. This way, Snow.”

Sam hesitated, then shrugged and followed Lin away.

Bemused, Snow followed the woman to “the station where she had been scraping a sheep hide. It was a messy, tedious job. “I can do that,” Snow said quickly. “I am a sheep-herder’s daughter.”

“We’ll both do it,” Flo said, handing her a bronze scraper.

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