Truth and Sparta (18 page)

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.

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.

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.

Her schedule
had to adjust and flow around Nicias and his activities. In all
this madness, she had managed to keep from disrupting it too much,
but there were days when she had to depend on the boy who was
helping her. She would leave directions for him in the village and
they would be passed on.