Truth and Sparta Read online

  She gave a start as he stroked the tip of her nose with his finger. She didn’t understand what he was doing, if he was testing her in some way.

  “You are very pretty,” he said in his deep voice. Chara didn’t know what to say or even if she could trust her voice to hold. “The world can be cruel with pretty girls being few and far between. Are you innocent?”

  She didn’t know how to answer—whether he would leave if she answered yes, or maybe he would be disgusted if she said no. She decided to answer truthfully. Men knew and he would know if she lied, which meant there may be consequences later. She had to do whatever she had to in order to ensure there were no consequences. It was the consequences that they feared above all else. Spartans were known to be spiteful when they wanted to and she might be putting her family at risk if she lied.

  “No. I was married.” She didn’t dare look up at him. He stroked the skin of her bare arms, gently moving his warm, strong hands up to her shoulders. She could feel callouses on his palms and she couldn’t help her skin prickling at the touch.

  “Good,” he said. Chara tried not to tremble, but she couldn’t help it. Her fear was overwhelming for a second but she pulled herself together. She wasn’t a child and she knew full well what was on his mind. There was nothing to fear—it would be no different from how it had been with her husband. She would have to yield and he would do what he wanted—this was no different.

  The Spartan’s hand moved up to her face and he stroked her cheek with the pad of his thumb. It moved down to stroke her lips, putting enough pressure on her lower lip so it gave slightly under his touch. It was a very intimate touch. Chara didn’t know what to do with herself or her hands, but that seemed to be her common feeling throughout.

  He stepped even closer now and she could hear his breathing getting heavier as his body came flush against hers. She felt his thighs against hers, and her chest just touching his abdomen.

  “You will be mine now,” he said and Chara looked up at him. His eyes were blue like the sky. She didn’t understand what he meant—whether he meant this day, or he could have meant something more. She didn’t know their ways well, but she knew they took lovers as they pleased.

  His hand was at the back of her head, holding her steady as he leant down and kissed her. His lips were soft and the kiss was light. Surprisingly, she didn’t feel as distressed as she thought she would, perhaps because he was being gentle, at least so far.

  His other hand squeezed her to him. She felt the hard muscles of him, and every taut plane of his body. His hands moved to her bottom and he lifted her up along his body, kissing her deeper. She didn’t exactly return the kisses, but neither did she fight. Her husband hadn’t liked kissing her, so this was different as the Spartan clearly relished it. She could feel the hardness of him between her thighs now. He liked it a great deal.

  He lay her down on the ground and tugged her tunic up. She couldn’t quite believe this was happening to her. Again, she didn’t know what to do with herself or where to look. He might get angry if she looked at him. On the other hand, she was a little curious. She felt quite detached from the whole act.

  He pulled her knee out and she felt him push into her. His face was right above hers and she tried to keep her gaze on his chest, on his white tunic. He moved slowly in and out of her. He took much more care with this than her husband had, who had pounded into her like he was running a race to the end. The Spartan seemed to take more pleasure out of the process.

  It wasn’t an entirely unpleasant sensation. Again, it felt like there was something there under the surface that was hidden from her. She had heard that some women liked it immensely. He leaned down to kiss her again and that was an odd sensation, and a bit superfluous she though, as he was already inside her.

  She tried to relax and to remain detached, knowing he was coming to the end and that this would be over soon. His movements were more erratic along with his breath, then a last push and a guttural groan. He was very heavy on her and she had trouble keeping her breath when the full weight of him pressed down on her.

  While there were some differences between how they approached the act, the process was roughly the same. On some level, she had seen Spartans as very alien compared to her own kind, but perhaps they were more alike than she’d realized.

  She felt his weight come off her as he sat back, then stood up. Chara sat up as well, again not clearly knowing what was expected of her. It hadn’t been so bad; she was neither injured nor bruised. She still didn’t want to look at him, but she knew he was straightening his tunic. He would walk away soon.

  “Come to my house tomorrow evening,” he said. Chara looked up at him then. There was no derision in his features, just calm certainty. She hadn’t expected him to say that; she’d thought this was over and she had come away unharmed, but he seemingly had other plans. He wanted her to come to him tomorrow and she knew he would want to do this again. She tried to find some way to protest. “Don’t make me come find you,” he said and Chara’s protest died in her throat.

  She recognized the threat. He would come find her, and her family would have to pay for her defiance as well as her. There was nothing she could do, she had to comply. She nodded while moving to sit on her lower legs. She neatly pushed her tunic down to cover her thighs and waited there until he left. He stood still for a while and she wondered if there was something else he wanted, but then he turned and walked away. Chara only looked up at him when his back was turned—the powerful man with broad shoulders. There was something very surreal in what had just happened.

  She wasn’t sure of the implications of it, or what the impact would be on her future. The Spartan had an interest in her, and for more than just this time it seemed.

  Chapter 5

  Chara didn’t know how to feel, she actually felt a bit numb as she walked back to her father’s small house. She knew she had been imposed upon. She also knew that such things happened—it was the reality of how things were and had been for centuries.

  Knowing that her father and brother were aware of it made it much worse. If it had happened when she was alone, she would probably never tell anyone. She feared her father’s opinion now more than any distress she felt with the actual act itself.

  Her position was even more precarious now. Her father could reject her and no one would blame him if he did. Chastity was expected from girls who lived in their father’s house and he could choose to be done with her, throw her out. She hated the uncertainty of her own situation. This was twice now in a very short time period that she had to confront her father and the verdict that he would bestow on her. She had no control over it, just like she had no control over the Spartan and what he did to her. Such an act, which was short in actual duration, could have very long and permanent consequences for her.

  She didn’t know what she would do if her father threw her out. Actually, she had some idea; she would have to turn to the Spartan for support, or to find some other Spartan to serve. She would much rather stay with her family than have to serve someone. Working the fields was desperately hard, but it was better than being a servant; although the servants obviously felt they had the better bargain than the slaves in the fields. They were all slaves in the end, better to not have to face them every day.

  She took a deep breath and walked the path that led home. She could see her father outside, tending to the ox. He didn’t turn to face her, just kept working. She knew he was aware of her presence, she could see tension in his shoulders.

  “Bring some water for the beast,” he finally said. Chara nodded and turned to find a bucket for the stream. She went immediately to do as he bid. He wasn’t going to reject her it seemed, which was good. She reached the stream and tossed the bucket into the clear flowing water. She wanted to stay there for a while, away from the unpleasantness at home, but she couldn’t; she had to face the consequences at home. Now was not the time to be cowardly.

  Her father was still there when she returned with t
he full bucket. She poured it into the water trough and the ox sniffed it before taking a drink.

  “I’m sure your mother requires help,” he said after a while. He still wasn’t looking at her and she wondered if he felt ashamed of her or whether he was ashamed of himself for not being able to prevent it. Either way, she wished he didn’t feel bad about it. Chara realized he wasn’t going to say anything more and he was going to act like it never happened. Perhaps a strategy she preferred as well.

  Chara went to seek out her mother at the back of the house where she tended the fire for cooking. She could tell that her mother had been crying—a sight she hated. It was clear that her mother had been told about what had happened.

  “I’m so sorry, my girl,” her mother said.

  “I am fine, mother. I am not injured.” Her mother started crying again. Chara stroked her back trying to make her stop. She wished there was some way she could make her mother understand that it wasn’t that bad and she didn’t need to cry. “It’s alright,” she soothed her mother. She wanted to say that their subjugation to the Spartans would end one day, and that they could be vindicated, but she wasn’t sure that was true. It might just sound like a weak lie if she came out with such a statement. She was also not going to tell her mother that she had been ordered back to the Spartan’s house the next evening. She had to find a way of hiding that from her mother, but she had no idea how.

  Eventually her mother calmed down and Chara helped her grind and bake some barley bread. She loved bread from fresh barley, it tasted of summer. With some oil and some salt, it was possibly the best thing in the world.

  Their meal was a muted affair. Chara’s parents were both quiet and her brother was absent all together. After their meal was completed, her father said that he needed to return to the fields. He obviously didn’t expect Chara to join him, which meant that she had to stay by the house.

  “Don’t begrudge his silence,” her mother said. “Men are not good at dealing with these things.”

  Chara nodded. She couldn’t think of anything to say. She felt bad because it seemed that she was the least affected by the incident in the field. She just wanted to forget about it, but it was hard when she could see the sadness in her mother’s eyes.

  “Maybe the gods will avenge me and he will die of something horrid,” Chara said to try to lighten the mood, but it was the wrong thing to say. Her mother started crying again and Chara felt awful.

  There was a noise outside and Chara welcomed the distraction as she went to see what it was. She recognized that she could have been overcome by fear and she was really proud of herself in that she was not letting this affect her.

  When she got outside, her brother walked past her in sharp strides.

  “Where are you going?” she asked.

  “What does it matter to you?”

  “It doesn’t, but Mother is a little upset at the moment. Now is not the time to make her worried about you by being absent.”

  “It’s not me she is upset with,” her brother said curtly. “I was not the one who opened my legs to be some Spartan’s whore.” Chara gasped at his stinging words.

  “I didn’t have a choice and you know it.”

  “So that is alright then—the perfect excuse.” She could hear the anger in her brother’s voice, there was a slight tremor in it that he only had when he was really angry.

  “Excuse for what?” she challenged. He only shook his head and stepped back from her. “Excuse for what?” she repeated. She did not appreciate whatever it was her brother was insinuating.

  “You just didn’t fight very hard,” he finally said.

  “And exactly how was I supposed to fight?” There was no way she could take on a Spartan.

  “You told us to leave so you could be alone with him.”

  “I told you to leave so he wouldn’t murder you, there is a fairly substantial difference.”

  Her brother turned his back on her and walked off. She picked up a stone and threw it at him, hitting him in the back, but he didn’t stop. He kept walking.

  Chara couldn’t believe that he was implying that she wanted this to happen, or that she should have fought him off. What exactly would that have served? Her experience would likely have been more violent and it could also have jeopardized her whole family. Doros refused to see her side of it, he only saw his own anger. It wasn’t like he put up much of a fight when it came down to it, he’d just walked away. His accusation was so very unfair. Anger coursed through her body urging her to move so she could try to dissipate it.

  She knew that once the anger subsided she would be extremely hurt, more so by Doros’ words than anything else that happened that day. Being imposed upon by a Spartan was an unfortunate event that came upon one like anything of bad luck—Doros reaction felt like downright betrayal.

  She spent the next hours preparing the things she was going to say to him when he returned, but he didn’t return that evening. It grew dark and still he wasn’t back. She knew her parents were worried. Doros was a hothead, but surely he wasn’t dumb enough to do something rash. He knew that they would all be punished in the end if he did. He also seemed to place the blame for the whole incident squarely with her.

  She lay on her cot and tried to make sense of the day. On the whole it had been one of the worse days of her life—right up there next to Peracili’s death, when she had lost her husband and her home in one day. At least she had a roof over her head. That might not be the case when they realize that she has to return to the Spartan the following evening.

  Perhaps she had to confront the idea that maybe it was better for all involved if she didn’t return. Maybe she had upset the gods in some way and they were handing out misfortune to her.

  With all the happenings of the day, she hadn’t even turned her thoughts to what the Spartan wanted from her. Perhaps his intentions were for one more time, then he would forget about her. She couldn’t really imagine his interest turning into anything more, she wasn’t sure she could be the lover of a Spartan, she wasn’t even sure if that entailed more than what happened in the field today.

  She wished she could clear it all from her mind and think of nice things—lovely spring days, ripe fruit and the scant days of leisure once the harvest was done. Her life used to be very simple and she wasn’t entirely sure when things got so complicated.

  Chapter 6

  Chara was extremely nervous as she walked up to the Menares house. She had no idea how the evening would unfold, and as much as she didn’t want to go, she equally didn’t like being at home at the moment either. Her mother was still sad, her father was stubbornly ignoring the issue and her brother refused to talk to her.

  Her brother had returned in the morning—he’d been drinking. She was still incredibly angry with him for the way he’d acted.

  She’d also been trying to work out how she would deal with having to leave that evening. In the end she just told them she needed to go for a walk. Maybe it would happen sufficiently fast so they didn’t have to know, but she wasn’t sure—it depended on how long it took.

  She would also have to walk home in the dark, which wasn’t ideal, but it was unlikely anything would happen to her that was worse than what she was facing right now. Fortune had not been on her side lately.

  The gate at the wall surrounding the villa was closed, the wall there to protect the villa against attack from the Helots. They were right to be concerned; they’d been attacked before from the stories she’d been told. There had been an uprising quite a number of years ago and there were always people referring back to that time, like her brother, and she knew he wasn’t alone. It was always there in the undertow.

  She considered turning around and walking home, but she was sure the door being closed would not serve as an excuse when they came to punishment for her family for her refusal to take an order. She knocked as loudly as she could. It took a long time, but eventually someone came. They opened the door and she could see them by the light of the
ir flame. It was one of the Helot servants. He’d grown up here from the time he was a child, she knew. He wasn’t from this region so no one in the village knew him particularly well. He didn’t spend much time there in any capacity and didn’t seem to want to establish relationships with the Helots in the area.

  He looked her up and down, “Who are you here for?” he asked. She saw that he knew exactly why she was here.

  “Nicias,” she said.

  “Follow me.” He stepped aside and she walked through the portal into the courtyard. She recognized the courtyard, which seemed very quiet in the evening compared to the activity during the day. He led her through a door into an inner courtyard, which was greener and not meant for pulling carts and beasts through. This courtyard seemed to have no discernible purpose, but it was beautiful. The moon was not high yet, but she could tell it was well tended with plants, like the fruit gardens outside.

  They entered the building again and the man kept on walking down its corridors. It was amazing that a house could contain so many rooms—she’d never seen anything like it. Eventually he opened a door and indicated that she step inside. Chara’s nerves twitches as he closed the door behind her.

  She was definitely in a bedroom, but there was no one there. It was the size of her entire house. She could see the tall and ornate bed by the defused light of the oil lamp which stood on a table further into the room. The furniture was of the kind she had knew were provided by the master craftsmen—not the simple cut wood and hemp string beds that the Helots built and used. It had a plush mattress that looked incredibly soft. Seeing it only heightened her nervousness.

  Other than the furniture, there wasn’t such in the room, just some weapons. She looked them over. There was quite a collection—metal and leather masterly combined. She wondered if he was testing her by leaving them there for her to see, but then what was she going to do? No, he had rightly assumed that she would not go near them.