Infinite Sacrifice (14 page)

He comes into the house without
even acknowledging me, throws down his feathered helmet, and
declares, “I have decided to wife-share with Nicholas. She has
produced four fine sons, all fine specimens, all excelling in agoge
even though they’re still young. He’s agreed to share her as long
as I promise my household to the future child, and I’m agreeing to
this.”

I was expecting this one day and am
ready for it. “If you are asking me for my permission, you can have
it, but there is a price.”

He looks curious but wary. “What
price?”

“Kali can stay,
and when it comes time, I get to decide who I leave
my
households to.” He
nods in agreement, but I continue, “You will also live in your
house until you’re dead, and then you can give it to whomever you
want.”

Even though it’s beneficial for a
woman to own three households, it’s important only if you have
someone to give them to. Kali’s all I have left, and she can own a
household only through marriage. He picks up his helmet, walks out
to his horse, and rides out on my dirt road for the last time.
Neither of us even cared enough to say good-bye. I feel free from
the worry of Leander sending Kali away. Ophira seems to understand
what happened after Leander never comes back, even though she knows
the army has returned. She seems a little happier too.

It catches us off guard when the
ephor returns with a horse, cart, and six soldiers.

I ask, “What brings you
here?”

“We have come to collect the
mothax,” the ephor calls out.

“There is no mothax in our
house.”

“It’s written here and signed by
your mark that you birthed a child of Spartan-helot descent. Is
this not your mark?”

“Yes it is, but that child
perished.”

He must have heard this before upon
collecting, since he retorts, “We have searched the records before
we were sent here.”

Unfortunately, Kali runs up to us
at this time.

“I presume this is the child.” He
reads his orders. “Female, age ten.”

“This is my helot’s child,” I say,
hoping Ophira will play along again.

“Is that true?” he asks
Ophira.

Ophira does not hesitate. “She’s my
child.”

“Every helot born has to be
recorded as state property.”

“She has a record.” Ophira’s at
least buying us time. He looks suspicious but knows he has to have
proof before removing her.

“I’ll be back if I find no
ten-year-old, female, full helot bound to this
residence.”

“Ephor!” I call out, “Where are you
sending the mothakes?”

He smiles suspiciously. “The kings
have been generous enough to grant them their own colony of
Tarentum. They’ll be able to live amongst their own kind. It’s what
is best for them.”

Kali jumps into Ophira’s arms when
he leaves, and Ophira says, “We’ll never let them take
you.”

Ophira looks at me and, for the
first time in a long while, speaks to me directly. “How much time
do we have?”

“I don’t know, a week?”

Ophira gives Kali a push. “We need
to talk. Go play.”

Kali, looking thrilled we’re
talking to each other, runs off.

“Alcina, we could send her to live
amongst the helots.”

I consider this. “But the only
helot we trust is in the Citizens’ Army. Can she be left at ten to
fend for herself?”

“I could always take her and get
another home to work in.”

“That means you’d have to bring her
with you, and they would want her full helot papers, which we don’t
have.”

Ophira shakes her head. “She is too
young to marry.”

“We might have no
choice.”

We both sit down in frustrated
silence.

∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞

A week later, the ephor’s back,
looking greatly displeased. We’ve prepared her for this day and
where she’ll be going. She must have been scared, but she didn’t
want us to feel guilty.

She even says in her cheerful
voice, “This will be good for me. I can’t wait to be with people my
own age.”

We pack her bags, hug her, and I
tell her, “You will come back. This is your home, and we’ll send
for you as soon as we can.” I take out the dog-skin cap I’d been
saving and place it on her small head. “This was your
father’s.”

That causes a lone tear to stream
down her cheek, but she sucks back any others. “I’ll be fine. I
love you, Mother.” She gives me another hug and turns. “I love you,
Ophira.”

Ophira’s a mess of tears. Kali gets
onto the cart stoically, waves to us with a gleaming smile,
grasping her bag. When she disappears down the hill, I turn to
Ophira, and we cry in each other’s arms.

Chapter 9

Months later, one of my more loyal
helots comes yelling, “An enemy’s invading Sparta!”

Ophira rushes with me over the
mountains and into the city to hear more on the situation. The same
steel-eyed ephor who took Kali away is standing in the middle of
the square. Women, children, and old men are gathered, desperate
for news. The rest of the normally crowded city streets are
deserted—the calm before the storm.

“This is an emergency,” the ephor
shouts to the worried crowd. The marble statue of King Leonidas
looms above. “The majority of our army is engaged in Crete. Pyrrhus
has taken this vulnerable time to attack. It’ll take days for
reinforcements to get here. The only defense we have is the
Citizens’ Army and agoge. We have merely slaves, young men, and
boys to rely on now.” The crowd surges, but the ephor screams
louder, “Sparta’s sending all of its women and children to refuge
in Crete.”

Furious uproar rolls over the
crowd.

A woman among us stands up and
shouts, “Don’t let them take us away! So we survive? We’ll have
nothing to come back to!”

Everyone cheers and rallies behind
her.

I call out, “Spartan women! If we
send our sons off to die for Sparta, then we must stay and die for
Sparta too!”

Ophira stands up with me in the
pulsing crowd, fists hammering toward the sky in unyielding
patriotism.

The ephor gets up to speak again.
“Our brave women of Sparta, we should have known you would not be
taken from your city! Let us all stand together and
fight!”

We watch the Citizens’ Army march
into the center square in their thinner, simpler armor. Theodon
walks beside important leaders in the front. He nods slightly in
our direction but stands stoically at the arm of his
commander.

His leader speaks. “Women of
Sparta, we commend you for your allegiance. The enemy is fast
approaching with numbers tripling the forces we have at our
disposal. With no fortifications we need to dig deep trenches
immediately, all around the city entrances to keep their elephants
at bay.”

“Elephants?” Ophira looks at me
anxiously.

I stand up again and yell, “To our
spades!”

The crowd pours like a flooded
river out of the square and to the large cart full of shovels. Each
woman picks one up and breaks into groups to dig trenches outside
the city.

Ophira and I dig all day beside
Theodon’s army, ignoring throbbing, bleeding blisters. When night
falls, a woman from our group stands up and shouts, “All soldiers
go home! Put down your spades and give them to your mothers. We’ll
dig so you can rest and give your all for our country
tomorrow!”

The women cheer, and the leader of
their group bows low to us and takes his troops back inside the
city. Theodon breaks formation to turn around and give us a worried
nod before another soldier pulls him back by his chest strap. We
continue throughout the night with staked torches as our only
light.

The sun rises in a vibrant, red
haze, and we can see thousands of little shadows assembling on the
mountains surrounding Sparta.

Someone shouts, “Mothers find
safety within the city!” as trumpets give forlorn
warning.

Filthy and stiff from exhaustion,
Ophira and I hobble back with them. The women are corralled into
the stately assembly building above the square. We arm ourselves
with whatever we can gather: shovels, pitchforks, sickles. Some
women wear ropes cinched around their necks because they’ll rather
hang than be taken captive. Our building is three stories tall and
set high in the city, giving us a good vantage point. We all huddle
at the windows and watch with mouths agape as the enemy assembles
into tight, well-disciplined formation. Ophira finds her medallion,
brings it to her lips, and clutches my hand as she chants something
I don’t understand. I pray that the Athenians will stay their
distance, and every woman jumps back when the sea of men begins to
surge forward toward Sparta. Knowing we have nowhere to run, I take
Ophira’s shaking hand and bring her back to the window. Far off,
roaring forward, come the horrid, gigantic beasts called elephants
leading the charge. They’re like nothing we’ve ever seen before.
Ophira shuts her eyes tight and brings her hands to her mouth in
more whispered prayers.

I’m scared for Theodon and for
Sparta. Every time the enemy moves to approach the city, Sparta
sends out troops to push them back. Some of their men put down
their spears and rush to fill the trenches in segments so that the
elephants can cross, all the while under a deluge of spears and
arrows from the roofs of the single-story city dwellings walling in
the city. As each enemy falls into the trenches, their comrades
carelessly shovel dirt on top of them. Once the elephants gain
passage, the enemy looms along the perimeter of the city, testing
every entrance. Inside the city, our stone streets are filled with
soldiers and boys running to their commands. It’s amazing that in
so much chaos, control is still being kept. Many loyal helots step
forward with farm tools in vast numbers to defend the city. We have
to buy Sparta time.

An impressive phalanx formation of
red-cloaked hoplites, the only regiment left behind to protect the
city, marches right outside the square. They look ethereal with
their feathered, beak-faced helmets and bronze body armor—like
beautiful, deadly birds. Spear and shield expertly positioned, they
go out to repel a heavy attack. We can’t see the elephants but can
hear them, right outside the fortress of our city. They sound like
I’ve always imagined the sea monsters in Nereus’s tales, echoing a
thundering horn blow. I hope we’ll never see one up close, that
they will not be let into the city.

Later, we wait, sitting on the
floor, listening to the battle in the background, when we hear the
men shouting especially loud. We rush to the window to see, to our
horror, ten elephants have broken into one of the side streets and
are charging down to the square. Ophira clutches on to me in
terror.

My imagination can’t have created
such a creature. It’s the height of three men and the weight of ten
horses. White horns which the enemy has tipped with iron protrude
out of its face, and a long snake-like appendage curls and twists
as it charges. On its head are huge, flapping pieces of flesh that
move like wings! These elephants trample over any men standing in
their way. Spears are thrown at them, yet they bounce off their
thick skins. The beasts thrash their horned heads back and forth,
throwing men against stone buildings. Worse yet, they grab men with
their snakes and throw them against the ground, then squash them
with their giant heads.

Half the men go running from them,
while the other half courageously stays to either stab the beasts
or perish. The elephants start to fall in massive heaps in the
streets. One of them goes through a wall, causing a whole building
to collapse upon it. Once an elephant falls, the soldiers pounce on
the elephant handler in rage. Each remaining elephant is led off in
different directions. All goes quiet as they disappear. The women
are silent at the horror of what they witnessed. I have a new
understanding of how terrified Arcen must have been in battle. I
could never have dreamed of these kinds of atrocities and total
disregard for life. We hear men running down to the square and see
six Citizens’ Army men turning around at a familiar
voice.