Truth and Sparta (7 page)

Doros stayed
away more and more and Chara was almost relieved because she didn’t
like seeing the recrimination in his eyes whenever he looked at
her. She didn’t like seeing the curiosity and sometimes hostility
in other peoples’ eyes either, so she stayed home even when she had
cause to go to the village. Her growing belly was making it more
difficult to work, but she tried her hardest; she didn’t want to
father to despair because of it. He refused to mention it, but she
knew that it was not something he wanted for her. Working the olive
trees became more taxing for her, but she pushed herself,
collapsing into her cot as soon as the sun went down.

“
We need to take our olives to the press,” her father said one
morning. “Stelio has given us a slot for today so we must hurry.
You will have to help me,” he said with a smile and Chara nodded.
She normally love going to the press this time of year as it had
quite a jovial atmosphere when the village came together and
pressed the very last of the olives into oil. She felt nervous
going this year because of her state, but her father needed help so
she would go.

The ride over
was rough and slow, the uneven road meant that Chara had to watch
the pots full of olives to ensure they didn’t fall off. As
expected, there were many people from the village when they
arrived, but it had a much more subdued feeling to it. Chara
wondered if it was her arrival, but she soon spotted the real
reason—Menares was sitting on a little stool along the wall. Chara
could see some of his servants darting in and out of the press and
she wondered why he was here. Technically it was his press, but he
never came here in person.

It didn’t
matter, she determined and busied herself with the tasks she needed
to do to help her father.

Stelio came
over to them. “I am afraid you’ll have to wait. The Spartan has
come and taken the press. He likely won’t be finished until
tomorrow. He doesn’t care about how we plan for its use. Maybe you
can leave your harvest here, you can have use it in the morning
when they’ve cleared his stuff out,” he said indicating toward
Menares with his head. He then looked at Chara, noting her belly.
“Panos will have to work through the night. I think it is better
that way.” Chara knew it was an act of compassion; it should be
them that worked through the night, but she would not be capable of
it and it seemed that Doros was not interested in such duties at
the moment. It annoyed her greatly that he could go off and leave
her father to deal with their harvest on his own.

Chara could
only carry the very smallest pots into the building housing the
press as the village men helped them unload the larger ones.

She had to
walk past the older Spartan as she carried the small pot she’d
pulled off the cart. She didn’t like walking past him, but there
was no other way.

“
You’re Nicias’ girl, aren’t you?” he asked as she did. She
faltered in her step. She didn’t know what to say. He was looking
at her belly then sniffed. She took it as dismissal and kept
walking, placing the pot down and returned to the cart without
looking back as she passed him again.

He had seen
her belly and he had likely understood about the baby, which meant
that Nicias would now know before long. It made it much more real
for her. Nicias would know of the baby and he would come for it.
She felt her inside twist with fear and anxiety. Even though she
knew this would happen all along, the outcome actually being in
motion was hard to bear. This innocent child didn’t deserve to be
so cruelly treated. She wanted to plead with Nicias, but she knew
that it would do no good—his father knew, so he had to rid himself
of the child or there would be recriminations for him if he didn’t.
Chara felt trapped.

The ride home
was long and cumbersome. Chara went straight to the little shrine
she had set up and prayed for an answer, for a solution to the
predicament she was in.

Chara started
to feel more desperate when she felt the baby move. It was going to
arrive soon and she knew there was nothing she could do to slow it
down. She was getting tired earlier in the day as well, and she was
struggling to keep up with her duties. Her parents were
sympathetic, but they were also getting older and had trouble
dealing with the extra workload.

“
The Spartan’s child is going to pop out before long,” Doros
said one day.

“
Not something I have failed to notice,” she replied curtly.
Actually her mother told her it was some time yet before the baby
came, but her belly was growing heavy. Her mother said her belly
would change when it was time and Chara hadn’t seen any change
other than it growing bigger.

“
He will take it.”

“
Yes, I know Doros,” she said tersely. “You need to help father
more. It’s harder and harder for me and you need to pull your
weight.”

“
So I can feed the Spartans? No thanks.”

“
You are going to get yourself killed acting like
this.”

“
Spartans don’t have time to worry about me—they have bigger
problems to deal with. In case you hadn’t noticed, Athens has them
hamstrung. They have taken prisoners—lots of them. Athens is full
of Spartan prisoners. Rumor is that they’ve taken Cythera, which
means that the Spartans have lost their grain supply.”

“
Which will make them worry more about where their own food
comes from.”

She feared
that Doros was planning a revolt. It would lead him into serious
trouble when it was noticed—it would get them all into trouble.
“They are still paying attention back home. Your activities will be
noticed.”

“
I met a Messenian the other day. They’re fighting with the
Athenians.” He looked around and quietly added. “They support us.”
Chara hadn’t known there was an ‘us’, but apparently Doros had
found some likeminded people.

“
They have no risk to take, you do and you are risking our
lives.”

“
Slavery is no life.”

“
You have no right to decide for us.”

“
You are too subservient to do anything but what the Spartans
tell you to.” He looked down at her, nodding to her belly before
turning away. “Revolt is coming whether you like it or not,” he
said as he walked away. Chara watched his angry, aggressive strides
as he left. It felt like they were always at odd ends since she had
gotten back—their little family felt fractured.

Della came to
visit in the afternoon to Chara’s delight. Her friend didn’t
normally walk all the way out to their home, but Chara rarely went
to the village these days.

“
You babe will be here soon,” Della said. “Are you
afraid?”

“
I am afraid for the baby.”

“
He must know by now.” Chara had not told Della about the
father, but it only went to show how much the people in the village
already knew. “What does Doros say?”

“
Not much—that we should revolt.”

“
He’s been saying it in the village too. He is not keeping
check on his tongue.”

“
He’s mentioned something about Messenians urging
revolt.”

“
They have come though the village. Their spies are in the
village every other day or so. They are recruiting men for their
army.”

“
Helot men?”

“
Yes—or to desert,” Della confirmed. “Not that we have that
many young men left, but I could see how a life in the Messenian
army would tempt Doros.”

“
I worry that Doros’ attention is more focused on causing
trouble here.”

“
If that is the case, he will attract trouble before
long.”

Della didn’t
stay long, but her words preyed on Chara’s mind. Desertion was a
grave charge and it was punished with death more often than not,
and the punishment was metered out to the whole family to serve as
a deterrent to others. She felt a kick in her belly and she rubbed
the spot where she could feel the baby’s movement. She knew she had
to find a way to save this baby. The Messenians weren’t interested
in pregnant women, but there had to be something she could do. She
made up her mind that she would find one of these spies.

She went to
the village the next morning, telling her father that she had to
ask a friend about a cot for the baby. She hated lying, but this
was important, she needed to talk to one of these spies and she
would not have her father talk her out of it—or forbid it.

She wandered
around the village for a while, resting often. For a long time,
there was no one who didn’t belong there, but then she spotted a
man she didn’t know. He was dark, with dark hair tied back. He had
the look of a soldier—not the well-honed physique of Spartans, but
the wariness in his eyes as she approached him showed that he was
concerned about his safety.

“
Are you looking for someone?” she asked. She didn’t want to
ask him outright until she got a sense of him.

“
I am looking for an old friend.” Chara could tell by his
accent that he was not a Spartan. He spoke like the Messenians, not
like a Helot. Chara watched him for a moment. Spartan spies were
always Helots. She would never know for sure, so she had to take a
chance. If she was wrong, she would suffer.

“
I understand that people are being urged to desert,” she
stated blatantly trying to keep her voice steady; she didn’t see
any point in mincing her words. She certainly didn’t want to be
misunderstood and then have him walk away.

“
There are rumors regarding such things, I understand,” the man
said carefully. He was wary of her as well. “Who would you be
talking about? Obviously you are in no state to serve in the
Messenian army. In fact, you don’t look like you should be walking
around at all.”

“
I need to find somewhere to go.”

“
I’m sorry, I can’t help you,” he said and started to turn, but
Chara grabbed onto his arm.

“
They are going to kill my baby,” she pressed. “There must be
somewhere I can go.”

“
You can sell yourself into slavery.”

“
That’s hardly an option.”

“
It will keep your baby alive.”

“
But it has to live as a slave. You are heartless,” she
accused. She let go of his arm, ready to let him walk away—he had
nothing for her, she decided. But he stayed longer than she
expected him to, his eyes darted around to see if anyone was
watching them.

“
We can’t help, but perhaps the Athenians can. They require
people to help in Attica. Their lands have been ravaged, as has the
population. They would need people who are skilled with growing
food.”

“
I have worked the fields all my life,” she
confirmed.

“
Then I suggest you find an Athenian to talk to.”

Chara watched
as he left. It sounded simple, but she knew full well that she
couldn’t just approach any Athenian—she needed someone who could
say yes. She knew there were Athenians along the coast, she’d heard
they raided coastal villages on a regular basis, but she knew they
were hardly going to listen to her during a raid—she would just end
up a slave that way. She needed an administrator, not some soldier
she met during acts of aggression and war. But dealing with
Athenians—the enemy of the Spartan state—was an act of treason, but
since seeking out ways of desertion was punishable with death, why
not go the whole length?

She searched
her mind trying to find some way forward. Travelling to Athens was
impossible in her condition, besides, her absence would be noted.
Nicias would come looking for her and if she was not there, he
would know that she was not only defying him, she was acting
against the wellbeing of Sparta, which counted as a more severe
charge. She had to be here when he came, at least for a little
while, until he saw that there was no baby. Later, she could sneak
away and join her child.

Chara felt
like a massive load had been lifted off her. She had a plan now.
She didn’t know if she could make it work, but she had something to
strive for. She didn’t just have to sit there and wait for him to
come take her baby. A whole future opened up to her, one with a
child she could care for. She had given up on that dream once her
husband’s family convinced her that their barrenness was her fault.
As it turned out, it was his and not hers. The accusation bristled
now with its unfairness, but it didn’t matter. They didn’t matter
anymore, only the baby—her baby.

She just
needed to find a way to put her plan in action. Her parents had no
links with Athens or Attica, but she remembered it mentioned that
Panos had a second cousin that married an Athenian. She would have
to seek him out. He might dismiss her idea as crazy, but he
wouldn’t turn her in for asking. She couldn’t do it now, she was
exhausted and Panos was likely out in the fields. She would have to
do it in the evening, but first she needed to rest as walking to
the village had taken more energy than she’d thought. Returning
home was not an option, so she decided to ask Della if she could
sleep in her cottage for a while before seeking out Panos. Maybe
for the first time she would sleep without dreaming that a
dangerous animal was stalking her baby. Hope sat like a shining
jewel in her chest—a treasure more than any ruby that could be
found. A secondary benefit was that they might have something to do
if Doros’ activities draw the ire of the Spartans their way.