Tommy Nightmare(82)

“Others within Athens plot against Pericles,” Euanthe said. “Like the man to whom I was sold. Cleon.”

“Then the goddess preserves him so that he may suffer this treachery.” Archidamus looked her over and smiled again. “Are you well? How have you endured?”

“I am cold,” Euanthe said. “And very hungry.”

The king called in one of his guards.

“Timon,” King Archidamus said, “Bring the girl bread and meat.”

“Should we raise a tent for her, as well?” the hoplite named Timon asked.

“No,” the king said. “She will sleep here in my tent, under the direct protection of the king.”

Both Euanthe and Timon looked at him with surprise.

“Bring an officer’s cot for her,” Archidamus ordered. “And several of our least filthy fleeces. Hang a curtain there for her.” He gestured at the corner of his tent. “Tell the men to treat her as they would a member of the royal family, and to never touch her, or the curse of the goddess will fall upon them.”

Timon departed.

“Thank you for your hospitality,” Euanthe said. “And your protection.”

“My protection?” Archidamus laughed. “My girl, you are here to protect me. I have enemies among my own people, as Pericles does in Athens. I charge you with the task of striking any who strike at me.”

“Yes, my king,” Euanthe said.

“I am sorry it came to this.” Archidamus poured wine into a wooden cup and passed it to her. Euanthe drank, and it warmed her inside. He drank right from the skin, then wiped his purple lips. “I love the man Pericles, I truly do. He was a great leader in his time. But I have seen him grow addicted to empire, ambitious to rule all of Greece, all of the Aegean, all of Persia. And his people, his democracy, they support this. What we have done—what you have done, Euanthe—is necessary for all of us to live in peace.”

Four young hoplites entered, and one presented Euanthe with a plate of bread and mutton. She ate quickly.

The men constructed her bedroom at one side of the king’s tent, a cot piled high with sheepskins and a curtain wall.

When they left, the king spoke again.

“I suppose we have raided and pillaged enough for one war season,” Archidamus said. “We can leave Athens to rot in its plague. We must return to Sparta for the harvest.”

“My king,” Euanthe said, “I thought you meant to invade Athens. Was that not my purpose, to prepare it for conquest?”

“Your purpose was to bring it to ruin. Athens no longer births great men. When Pericles falls, Athens will be ruled by rats like Cleon, and the Athenian empire will rot and fall from within.”

“But you are pleased with me?”

“By every god, yes, dear girl. In Sparta, you will have a place in my household. I need your capabilities in my hands.” He laughed. “I can hardly have you running around the city unwatched. Now go and sleep. I must speak with my men.”

Euanthe hurried to lay in the bed. The curtain blocked out the light from the oil lamps, leaving her in a warm and comfortable darkness.

King Archidamus discussed with his officers their plans to break camp, steal anything that was worth stealing in Attica, and return home to Sparta.

Euanthe didn’t mind all the men’s loud voices as she fell asleep. She felt safe here. The king knew her purpose, and it was an important one. She had found her place in the world, where the goddess Aphrodite Areia intended her to be.

She thought of the king’s dark, mirthful eyes and careworn face, and how gently he spoke to her, though he was hard and brusque with his men. A deep peace fell over her, and she slept.





Chapter Thirty-Eight


Jenny spent Saturday afternoon sculpting some new pottery, listening to the Highwayman record by Willie Nelson, Kris Kristofferson, Waylon Jennings, and Johnny Cash. The song “Highwayman” made more sense to her now than it ever had.

“I’ll be back again, and again…” she sang under her breath, as her fingers worked to create form out of clay.

The phone rang. Jenny grabbed a rag and used that to pick it up, since her fingers were coated and wet.

“Hello?”

“Hey, Jenny, it’s Darcy.”

“How’s Charleston?”

“Good, it’s pretty cool. Seth’s off touring the business school or some junk. This place has all kinds of historical stuff. Did you know it’s the thirteenth-oldest college in the country? I wonder if that’s bad luck, being thirteenth?”

“I hope not,” Jenny said. “There’s enough bad luck in the world.”

“Anywho,” Darcy said, “We’re just, you know, orientating.”