Truth and Sparta (6 page)

“
Did you wish him dead?” he asked teasingly.

“
No,” she responded. Actually there had been a few times when
she’d wished just that, but it wasn’t like she had prayed for it.
She hadn’t thought it would actually happen.

She felt her
heart beat faster as he stepped closer. There was something
instinctively intimidating about him even though she knew he was
not going to hurt her. His hand came up and he stroked her hair.
She didn’t know how to react so she didn’t.

“
Was he considered a lucky man?”

“
Well, he died very young of a fever, so I don’t think so,” she
said feeling uncomfortable under his scrutiny.

“
Am I ruining your prospects for remarrying?”

“
Not more than a dead husband.” His death had pretty much seen
to that, particularly as there was such a shortage of marriageable
male Helots. He stroked her cheek slowly with his thumb.

“
You are so very pretty,” he said. She couldn’t hide the fact
that she liked hearing it. It wasn’t something she had heard
before.

He kissed her.
She was getting used to his touch now—and to his taste. The kiss
felt less awkward and less confronting than the previous ones. But
he wanted more than a kiss. He lifted her up and carried her to the
bed. He pulled her tunic off and exposing her.

He directed
the whole act and he made her ride him while his gaze roamed her
body. It was much more confronting than the previous night where
she’d just lain there. She complied, but it was much more difficult
to keep a distance in her mind as his eyes sought connection with
her the entire time. She wondered what he wanted from her. Her
curiosity only grew as she watched him being increasingly overcome
by the sensations she was harnessing in him. He had given her
control—why would he want to do that, she wondered.

Chara flatly
ignored any sensation what was being drawn in her. She knew it was
there and she chose not to delve into it. She’d had brief flashes
of it with her husband and she’d chased the elusive thing with
everything in her. Now, it sat there waiting to be acknowledged—so
very close, but she skirted around it—pretended that it wasn’t
there. It was almost going to overtake her when he was getting
close to his release. She felt it coming for her as she watched him
struggling with containing his release, his groan echoing around
the quiet walls. It was like a dream when she was being chased and
was just about caught when she woke up and it was over. She sighed
out relief intermixed slightly with frustration.

She watched as
he recovered from the exertion, staying where she was—sitting on
his hips.

“
We march for Pylos tomorrow.” He pulled her down into the bed
and rolled over to face her, supported by his elbow. He had said as
much last time, so it was not news to her. “There will likely be
battle.”

Chara wondered
if he would perish in it. She had teased her mother with that fate
just a few days ago. Maybe her wishing men dead made it so.
Abstractly, it would be a shame. It was a shame when anyone died,
particularly someone so young and vital. She saw no purpose to
it—it was just a tragedy.

“
Why do you care about recapturing Pylos? What is there that is
of such importance?”

“
There is nothing there, but it is on the Peloponnese and the
Athenians don’t belong on the Peloponnese.”

“
What will happen if they stay?”

“
They could march on anywhere. They could come here, burn
everything. Kill everyone.”

“
Like you have done in Attica? It would seem they are only
doing what you have done.”

“
You seem keen to martyr yourself to the cause of fairness. It
is your family that will suffer. The Atticans run to Athens and
hide behind their walls.”

“
But you will not protect us the same way.”

“
We cannot afford to let our food supply be
attacked.”

“
I can’t say I understand the point of any of it,” Chara
admitted.

“
It is about the future of Greece. It is the right path. The
Gods are on our side, they sent the plagues on Athens to prove it.”
Chara couldn’t even pretend that she understood the politics behind
it—from what she saw no one could win. It wasn’t like Sparta could
ever control Athens or the other way around, so how was a true
victory ever possible?

“
The only reason they could be at Pylos is to engage with you,
if you do not engage, there is no purpose for them,” she said
trying to understand why this long winded war was still continuing
with no end in sight.

“
Doesn’t mean that a challenge can go un-answered. What message
would that send to our allies? It is only in unity that we will
defeat Athens.” It was unusual to hear a Spartan say they needed
anyone but themselves.

He got out of
the bed—he’d had enough of the conversation. Chara felt no more
enlightened about the reasoning behind their action either, but
then she hadn’t really expected to. The faint light in the room
cast shadows on the walls, shadows of his very perfect form. It
shined off his golden hair as it curled around his neck. Chara
watched him as she walked around the room, then settled in one of
the chairs.

“
Should I leave?” she asked. He didn’t immediately answer. She
started to rise out of bed when he said no.

She wondered
if he was scared of the battle he was about to face—he would have
faced many over the last six years. But then it was his purpose, he
had been born and raised to be a soldier.

He sat for a
while longer before extinguishing the lamp. It was black inside the
room when he did and she felt him return to the bed. His heat
filled the bed with comfort, but she didn’t sleep. When his breath
began to slow, she lifted the blanket up to get out, but his arm
came around her waist and pulled her back. His arm stayed around
her as he returned to sleep and after a while she could only do the
same, lulled by the warmth of his body.

Chara’s life quickly returned to normal with Nicias’ departure. Her
absence that evening she’d spent with him was not mentioned by any
of her family, but they must have known what happened.

Chara didn’t
know if she’d ever see him again. She was somewhat confident that
she would never be attending to him in the same capacity. He would
probably forget all about her as he moved onto wherever they were
going after Pylos.

Time passed,
but the Spartan engagement at Pylos seemed to stretch out—there was
mention of it in the village. There were never outright discussions
because everyone feared spies recounting their words, but it seemed
that things had not gone in the Spartans’ favor. There were dead
and there were captured they said, and lots of them.

Chara tried
not to think of Nicias and his fate. She tried to distance herself
from the events that occurred when he was here. She never mentioned
it to anyone, but she had the feeling that they knew. Only Doros
could have told people, she guessed. It didn’t matter, it was over
now.

She had
thought it was over, until she started to get sick—constant nausea
made her whole life unpleasant. She had suspicions, but she didn’t
want to confront them. She had missed a bleed, but that did happen
to women sometimes, she knew. It had even happened to her once with
great commotion in her husband’s family—their hopes later to be
quashed.

“
You are carrying the Spartan’s child,” her mother said one
day. Chara didn’t answer, but she knew it was true.

“
I thought I was barren,” she responded. It hadn’t been an
outcome she had anticipated even when the signs had grown
clear.

“
It must have been Peracili that was barren.” No one had ever
mentioned that men could be barren, and Chara hadn’t realized that
it could have been his fault. Her mother came over and stroked her
back.

“
He will take the child,” her mother said after a while. “They
always do.” Chara knew it was true—everyone knew. It was their
policy. They didn’t want more Helot women spawning even stronger
Helots with Spartan blood, continuing to widen the Helot population
while the Spartan one was shrinking.

“
He might be dead,” Chara responded. She couldn’t in her mind
even conceive of a child yet, much less losing one. She realized
she would be much better off if it was true and he had
perished.

“
Let’s hope so.”

Pylos had
turned into a nightmare. They’d lost men—not lost on the whole,
trapped—prisoners on an island and hemmed in by the Athenians. The
Gods had not been with them and no one understood why. The enemy
had 400 of their numbers—close to half of them citizens. It left
the Spartan generals uncertain of what to do. They couldn’t fight
and they weren’t prepared to leave, so they were just there
waiting. The rains had started and it was getting colder. They
hadn’t been prepared to stay this long, but they simply couldn’t
afford to lose these men. The prisoners made up a sizeable
proportion of their army and there would be a heavy price to pay
back in Sparta. Not only was this a devastating defeat, but the
Athenians held prisoner the sons of some of the most influential
families in Sparta.

Nicias had
been lucky, he’d been on the other side of the bay at the time they
were surrounded on the island a short distance off the coast. But
now he was stuck here, not able to leave and not able to do
anything to rescue his compatriots. The greatest fear was that the
Athenians would execute every prisoner they had; although the
Spartan reinforcements lying in wait across the bay was perhaps the
only thing keeping them from doing it. They could not move and
there was no resolution in sight. Winter was coming and the camp
was miserable enough as it was.

Nicias felt
like he hadn’t been dry for weeks. The whole camp was muddy and
wet. At least, the supply lines from Sparta were established now so
they weren’t hungry like they had been. The Athenians received
supplies by sea and they didn’t have the means to stop it. The
enemy had the power at this point and it was an awful feeling,
sending the morale in the camp very low. Nicias was certain it
would be the same back in Sparta. General Agis would be under close
scrutiny for the failure of the campaign, the leaders in Sparta
would see this as a monumental failure on his part and they would
need some kind of retribution. Agis would have to defend himself
well or he would find himself exiled.

The days
dragged on with nothing to do but to seek some shelter from the
rain, attempt to keep a fire going with the soggy wood they had and
pray for forgiveness for whatever had caused the Gods to require
their suffering. Nicias couldn’t help his thoughts drifting back
home, to the more carefree days of the summer. He also thought
about the Helot girl he had claimed, her sweet face and tempting
body. If he could get a wish to be somewhere at the moment, it
would be to be there with her waiting in his bedroom. His body
tightened at the thought. There was little relief to find here,
there was little privacy and he did not find other men to his
taste. He would perhaps be a little less miserable if he did, but
it just didn’t call to him, he much preferred the soft curves of
his Helot girl. He envied her simple life—not that he would trade
his life for being a Helot, but just the simplicity of it.

He would claim
her again, if he was ever released from here. He couldn’t take her
back to Sparta as he had no means to keep her there. It was best to
have her at his father’s estate. He would just make more of an
effort to travel back there when he could. He rarely went back when
he was younger, he’d felt no reason to as there was enough
diversion in Sparta, but lately he felt more like there was
something absent. He harbored hopes that a bride would come his
way, but there were no signs yet. His father was not quite powerful
enough to draw the attention of ambitious fathers seeking
fortuitous alliances. His father’s estate was too far away from
Sparta and his influence didn’t extend to sway the fathers of one
of the rare Spartan daughters.

Nicias knew he
would eventually be given an estate, probably along the borderlands
where they needed people to oversee the Helots and make sure they
were not plotting mischief. He understood their desire to revolts,
but it was not something Sparta could afford—especially during a
war. The Helots had to be contained—the Spartan way of life was
dependent on it. Once he had his estate, he could keep a Helot girl
with him. Whether it would be Chara or some other girl, he didn’t
know.

For now the
thoughts of Chara were keeping his mind occupied when there was
nothing else.

Chara’s belly
grew relentlessly. She wished and prayed for it to stop, but it
wouldn’t. She knew this innocent creature would meet suffering and
she wished the Gods would claim it before it met its fate. Nicias
would come for the child, he was duty bound to do so—half caste
children were not tolerated. They feared the Spartan strength, any
strength in the Helot people. A boy he would take to serve in the
army, but would never be a citizen—a girl he would take to
expose.

She kept
thinking of solutions, following Nicias wherever he took the baby
and stealing it back once he left it. A baby would be hard to hide,
especially with the ever present spies.

It didn’t take
long before everyone could see what state she was in and there were
a lot of questions, but they were asked behind her back.