Infinite Sacrifice (9 page)

She flinches at the sound of the
word, but continues, “—a son, who was sent away to the Citizens’
Army, and we never saw him again. I was forced to marry a man at
fifteen who was twenty years older. We had to live with my
parents.”

“Did you care about your husband?”
Judging by the “forced” comment I gather she did not.

“He had these disgusting big toes.”
She starts laughing with her knife pointed up in the air. “I would
look down and see these two, hairy, oversized toes, and it would
make me sick.” She laughs so hard she has to look up. I laugh along
with her.

“Do you miss your
family?”

I drizzle the honey over the
kneaded loaves, making golden glistening swirls.

She glances up. “I miss my mother,
but I’m happier than I’ve ever been in my whole life. I can’t
believe I’m this happy.”

That night I make her practice
running with me since the next day is the annual Festival of Naked
Youths. We take our clothes off and sprint around the fields. Ever
faster than Ophira, it is so much fun to hear her complain as she
falls farther behind me. After racing, Ophira and I dance up on the
cliffs to the rhythmic sounds of the ocean. This is something she
does better than me, though. I sit back and watch her move, never
needing music. I imagine steady, mysterious hip-drum beats,
meandering abdominal harps, accented with the cymbaled climax of
her delicate hands and expressive eyes. Even though she is a helot,
she could’ve turned many suitors’ heads at the race tomorrow. It’s
a shame I can’t bring her. Nereus is also forbidden, since Sparta
punishes those who never married by not letting them attend any
state events. I’ll have to brave it alone, but I’m sure I will
win.

Chapter 3

I strip my short, belted tunic off
and rub oil all over until I shine along with all the other young
men and women. We’ve been competing with each other since we were
small: wrestling, throwing javelins, tossing discuses, and racing.
Sparta believes that to make stronger men, you have to make the
women who give birth to them stronger, and I’m glad for it. Once
all the girls are oiled, we parade around and flirt with the boys
we most admire. This is the time we can catch their attention and
coax them into considering us for marriage. Many of the young men
have been allowed a pass from their military school, Agoge, to
compete.

Even though I’m not light-haired,
as most men cherish, I have the ideal female shape. I’m tall,
almost as tall as a man, with long, thick legs that curve in taut
muscle. My back and middle are powerful, with broad shoulders and
strong arms.

I am the racehorse of
women.

It’s my turn to wrestle, and I’m in
the highest heat. I’ve already won the discus, javelin, and all
three short-distance races. Although those were only against
females, wrestling is much more challenging since I can compete
with the boys.

I pin the first two boys quickly by
staying low and keeping my feet moving. I know I’m going to have
trouble when Leander enters the ring. He’s taller, has fully
developed chest muscles, and biceps much larger than mine. If I’m
going to win, I’ll have to use my leg strength and not let him pick
me up. We get into our wrestling stances, and my eyes focus on the
two large moles he has on his jaw.

The match begins, and we collide
low. He tries to get under to throw me, but I fight to get under
him. He catches me in a number of holds, yet I always manage to
squirm free. The match goes on like this until it is announced he
wins. Disappointed, I throw my tunic back on, gather all my laurel
wreaths, and walk out before the feasting begins.

I feel a tap on my shoulder, and
I’m surprised to see Leander standing there.

“Are you leaving?” he
asks.

“Yes.”

“Before the feast
begins?”

“I have to get home,” I say over my
shoulder as I walk away.

He follows behind me and calls out,
“Is it true you have no parents?”

I stop. “What is it of your
concern?”

“I’ve some business to discuss with
the head of your household.”

“They died in the earthquake,” I
answer. “I have to go.”

I turn and nudge through the
current of citizens on their way in for the feast.

Unfazed, he catches up to me. “Then
you run your own household?’

“Leave me be, I must get home.” I
begin to make some headway, but he pulls me back toward him, within
the swirling mass of the crowd.

“I’m interested in marriage, and
I’d normally ask your father or brother, but you have
none.”

Leander’s one of the strongest
young men, and at twenty, he’s only days away from initiation into
the revered full-citizen hoplite army.

“You can ask me,” I say, pulling my
chin up in the air, pretending not to be surprised.

“Will you meet me in secret to
wed?”

“Which day?” Chin still
high.

“Meet me in your barn on the new
moon.”

“I might be there.”

I walk away and head home thinking
of how his black eyes sparkled like polished onyx, yet something
strangely unsettling gnawed down deep.

∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞

Seven days later, under the first
night of the new moon, acting as my bridesmaid, Ophira shaves my
head.

She holds the shears up to my hair
and asks, “Explain to me why I’m doing this horrible thing to
you?”

“It’s tradition to display how I’ve
changed my maiden hair to the shorter hair of a married
woman.”

She snips the first lock of hair
and starts laughing. “I can’t do this!”

She tries to shove the shears back
in my hand.

“It’ll grow back.” I shove them
back. “Now do as I say!”

After she’s done, she holds up a
mirror, and I truly look like a man. We both hold our sides in
laughter. Ophira can’t even look at me after without
laughing.

“Get yourself together and fetch
the rest of the things I need,” I say, still laughing.

She helps me get on the ceremonial
red soldier’s cloak and sandals.

On our way down to the barn in the
dark, Ophira says, “This is the strangest wedding I have ever
witnessed.” A rooster flaps in from behind the hen house, late to
roost, causing Ophira to erupt in a high-pitched hoot and grab on
to me.

“No moon aids Leander, but it
certainly doesn’t make it easier for us.”

She breaks out in laughter again
looking at me, but now I’m in no mood to laugh. It seems so real
now.

She stops laughing and breaks the
tension. “Why is this a secret?”

“It’s called a bride capture, and
it’s done in secret because the man steals away from his mess group
in the night to meet his bride in a hidden place. They share a
moment, and then he returns before anyone notices his absence. The
marriage can’t be made public until she’s pregnant, since it would
be easier to go their separate ways if one is unable to
conceive.”

“This is all very strange. You
don’t see this?” She squints with her palms up to me.

“I think it’s exciting and
mysterious, and if I don’t like him, I’m not stuck with him for
life.”

“Make sure you check his toes,
then.”

We both laugh so hard we stumble
down the hill. In jet dark, we hold each other’s hands to find our
way.

“Don’t you find
it a little odd how you’re made to look like
a boy
for him?”

“It’s done to ward off bad spirits
that might get jealous of our youthful passion,” I say, but pause
and quickly add, “or soldiers might like boys.”

Our laughter carries off through
the valley and I put a finger to my lips before entering the large
barn. Ophira gathers up a straw bed and lays me down. I whisper her
good-bye. She leaves swiftly, unsure when he’ll appear. It’s
strange to be out here in total darkness. I hear some field mice
running past me as I hold my breath. I wonder then, if I should
have confirmed I’d definitely be here. Maybe he thought I wasn’t
serious and I’d be sitting here all night in the dark. Or maybe
he’s waiting in one of the smaller out-buildings. Something moves
in the corner; someone has been there waiting this whole time. He
steps toward me, and his tall form looms above me.

Leander reaches down, releases my
thick belt effortlessly in the dark, and pulls me out of my robe. I
feel weightless in his strong arms and welcome his warmth with the
night air so cold. He places me back down in the straw and presses
himself against me. He puts his hands up to feel my shaved head. No
stranger to what it feels like to have a man so close when
undressed, I’m unprepared how different it is in the dark,
alone.

He rolls off to my side, panting.
“We’ll meet again in two new moons.”

“Two moons?”

“It’s the earliest I can sneak
away. If I’m caught leaving, I’ll be punished.”

“But everyone knows men leave their
messes for such secret meetings.”

“It’s a test for the soldiers to
practice stealth and I can’t be caught. This is the most I can
sneak away.”

“All right, then, we’ll meet again
in two new moons.”

With that, he puts back on his
cloak and leaves without sound. I, on the other hand, bump into
every tool and bucket left out by the helots and receive a good
bruise to my shin in the process. When I return, Ophira’s waiting
up by the fire. I tell her all the details, which lasts all of two
minutes.

She giggles, saying, “That was
about what it was like for me, except mine was soaked in
wine.”

∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞

I watch the next moon come and go,
wait all month, and when the full moon appears, I’m never happier
for it to disappear. Ophira gives me an exaggerated wink before I
run down to the barn. Dressed again in only my cloak, I sit on the
straw, searching every dark corner.

Something moves to my left, and
when I hear two helots talking, I shout, “Everyone out of the barn!
It is nightfall, you’re not permitted here!”

He will not come if anyone is near.
I wait twenty more minutes and have to kick curious mice away.
Finally, I hear the barn door close quietly, and I became so
excited I forget to breathe. He walks over to the hay, puts his
hand down checking to see if I’m there, and is startled when he
finds me.

He steps back and whispers,
“Alcina?”

“I’m here.”

He casts off his robe, pulls off
mine, and takes me immediately. When it’s done, he lays next to me.
I’m hoping he’ll stay a moment so I can talk to him.

I wait for him to speak, but he
only reaches around for his robe.

Hoping to stay him, I spurt out,
“You’ve given me a child.”

He sits up in surprise. “So soon?
After only one meeting?”

“I am sure.”

He looks slightly suspicious for a
moment but then tilts his head to one side. “Good.”

He gives me a light belly pat and
gets his cloak to go.

I stop him when I see the faint
light coming in through the door. “We don’t need to meet in secret
any longer. When will I see you again?”

“I will come when I
can.”

The barn door slams.

∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞

Happily, the Artemis Ortheia
Festival comes during the wait, and I’m hoping to see Leander
there. I ride Proauga down to the Evrotas river valley, nestled
deep within the cleavage of Mt. Taygetos and Mt. Parnon. The snow
on the highest summits stands out oddly among the rest of the warm
greenery. I leave Proauga to graze in lush grasses and make my way
toward the crowded theater to find a seat among the stone benches.
Alone, I find a seat in front of the many steps that lead up to the
Goddess of the Hunt’s altar. Winged Artemis stands frozen in stone,
her arms outstretched and grasping a bird in either hand. She looks
down upon the bloodstained steps where many years ago human
sacrifices were made, but now Sparta’s found another way to satiate
her bloodlust as well as entertain the people.