Master Apprentice
Archive
Heart's Labrys
|
|
|||
Rating: NC-17
Series: none
Categories: Q/O, AR, PWP, romance
Archive: MA
Feedback: Yes, please.
Summary: Barbarian Jheudi warrior Kaigan sets out to teach the arrogant young Obiareus a lesson.
Spoilers/Warnings: None (well, okay, maybe sappy romance).
Disclaimers: We own nothing. If you sue us, you'll get bad cars, a lot of computer parts, and children. At least you won't have to feed the computer parts. On second thought, go ahead and sue us!
Notes: Gloriana... she of the rabid bunny brigade... pawned this one on us. She claims it was inadvertent. Ahem. We know better. She is guilty, guilty, guilty.
Hilary notes: It was a freakin' whirlwind! It was amazing, astounding! It ate our lives! I got to collab with terri, and I got to steal ideas from Elektra and Gloriana--that was well worth the price of admission.
terri notes: Thank you, Hilary, for putting up with me on this. Three weeks to write almost a quarter of a meg is far too little time, I think. But still, it was fun, and always a delight to work with you.
Specific notes, errata and glossary:
Here is the original source for this bunny. It is something that you need to read in order to properly, uh, 'enjoy' this story. Blame this on Gloriana.
|
In Crete the paiderastic institutions were even more elaborate than at Sparta. The lover was called Philetor, and the beloved one Kleinos. When a man wished to attach to himself a youth in the recognised bonds of friendship, he took him away from his home, with a pretence of force, but not without the connivance, in most cases, of his friends. (I need hardly point out the parallel between this custom and the marriage customs of half-civilised communities.) For two months the pair lived together among the hills, hunting and fishing. Then the Philetor gave gifts to the youth, and suffered him to return to his relatives. If the Kleinos (illustrious or laudable) had received insult of ill-treatment during the probationary weeks, he now could get redress at law. If he was satisfied with the conduct of his would-be comrade, he changed his title from Kleinos to Parastates (comrade and bystander in the ranks of battle and life), returned to the Philetor, and lived thenceforward in close bonds of public intimacy with him. (source: http://www.infopt.demon.co.uk/greek.htm) |
Bronze age Crete was a significant power in the Mediterranean Sea, second (possibly) only to the Hyksos (that's in historical dispute at the moment). The Minoan city of Knossos boasted beautiful buildings, magnificent gardens, stunning artwork (their tile mosaics are to die for), indoor running water, flushing toilets, and an intricate sewage system. Unfortunately, the Minoan civilization was wiped out (probably by the eruption and destruction of the volcano at Thera/Santorini, but it may have been helped by the Mycenean invasion) around 1450 B.C.E. Not much is known of their day-to-day living, aside from what has been written by mainland Greek philosophers and writers.
OBIAREUS:
The sun is seldom temperate in Knossos. Neither, for that matter, is Xanthus.
He stood pressed against me, languidly stroking the front of my chiton. Ai, but it was hot, and he would not leave me alone. The very sky was oppressive, demonically blue and still, assisting the sun like a blanket in covering Kreta with silent, white woolen heat.
"Get off, Xanthus," I mumbled, and several of the other Jheudi chuckled.
"Look, Xan --" Choeros laughed, "better get him to the tents before he ravishes you. 'Go away' proves to be Obian for 'have me,' most of the time."
Xanthus snorted out half a laugh at the boy who'd been teasing him and swallowed the last tiny sip of wine in his skin. "Jealous bastard." He set the pouch down to better reach me.
"Off," I said impatiently, shoving at him. "Gods but you're helping the sun smother me." I braced on a knee and rose, relishing the cool of the shade against my back; we'd been leaning on the columns of the taverna, and now my sweat-sticky chiton received air. Gratefully, I shrugged my shoulders and tipped my head back, glaring at the sky.
The wine was made stronger by the heat and our sweat; I was mildly dizzy, but not unpleasantly so. Xan slumped against the column and looked up at me, blue eyes burning.
"We've just been sparring," I told him, by way of putting him off till nightfall, at least. He is insatiable at times, and during those times, I am sometimes glad, sometimes impatient. Xanthus is beautiful, that's sure, but ai, he clings like lichen. "Give me your skin," I said, trying to soften my harshness a bit. If I filled him up with wine, he'd be asleep by nightfall.
He handed his wineskin to me, giving me a petulant glare that immediately softened as I gave him mine -- still half full. There was a smudge of dust around the mouth of it, so I wiped at that with my thumb before releasing the pouch to him. His look turned suspicious.
I looked away from him, sighing -- he is always so suspicious of kindness (or is it only my kindness that concerns him?) -- and caught sight of a warrior I'd seen about; he was reclusive and strange. They said his body was painted, but I'd never been in the baths with him. He was faintly intriguing, if only because he was so exotic. His age alone made him unusual -- he was easily twice my years or more. The fact that he was ruggedly traveled -- they said he was from Assyria -- and silvering only made me wonder anew why it was that I found him looking at me in return. In fact, he looked at me quite often.
I rather liked it.
"You're trying to pamper me so I'll leave you be," Xanthus accused, bringing me back from the distance.
I shrugged and took up my staff, moving away from the group of young fighters and spinning the long weapon in my hands. "If I truly wanted you to leave me be, I'd knock you flat," I said, raising my voice just enough to be heard by the baths, where the foreign warrior, Kaigan, was standing. It wasn't all true; of course I wanted Xanthus to quit hanging on me like a drapery, but I didn't want him to keep me from his pallet. I liked him in that respect -- just nowhere else.
"You'd knock him flat?" Evenus laughed. "Not even good enough to be partnered, but you'd take on one who finished his labrys trial faster than you?"
I stared at him coolly. "He finished it faster than I did because he went in uninjured, Ev. I'd just been engaged in battle only three days before." I pointed my staff at him. "We won because of me. The labrys trial was smooth as honey after that."
A groan of protest issued from someone and several others glanced into the dirt or suddenly interested themselves in brushing off dusty tunics. They don't like me. This is alright -- I don't like them, either, although I was keenly aware of the warm pair of eyes on me, from the direction of the baths' door.
"Take him, Xan, come on," goaded one of them, and I sighed.
Xan smiled at the ground. "He's better than I am," he said, his voice quiet. I raised my eyebrow at him, a little surprised.
"Ah, you're a nanny goat," that same one said, and I remembered after a moment that his name was Ilus, and that he was flat as a soldier and worthless in bed. "He'll be along tonight no matter whether you moan his praises now, or no. Take him."
"Take me yourself," I said, and Ilus looked at me with blank startlement in his eyes. "Well then, that's what I thought. Stop talking with Xan's mouth." I stabbed the end of my staff into the ground, flicking my gaze toward the baths again -- my old warrior admirer was still there -- and then down at the soft clay dust I was grinding up as I twisted the staff. "Xan knows better what to do with his own mouth anyway," I muttered to myself.
"That's enough, Obiareus," Jerrome said sharply, unfolding himself upright and dropping his wineskin into Ilus' hands. He was taller than I, with pale, curling hair and sun-darkened skin. I suppose the only thing I should have feared was that I'd realized too late Ilus was doing more than just holding Jerrome's wine these days. "I'll take you myself."
"Pray hard," I grinned, stepping back. He came at me like a taurus whose grace had been bled out into a cow. Jerrome was a brute, and for all Ilus' lacking, I couldn't imagine why he suffered such a boor, in or out of bed. It didn't matter; I'd just as soon sweep the streets with him as look at him.
"You'll be doing the praying," he grunted as I held him off, our staves crossed. "You'll be sorry you talked of Ilus that way -- and sorry for the way you treated him before, if I have anything to do with it."
"I beg you, stop," I whimpered, affecting fear before shoving him off of me and darting away from his second charge. I lunged and speared him in the ribs, then took my stance again. "Ilus made his own bed -- much as he makes yours, now, I'm sure."
Jerrome roared and took his staff up like a club, intending to knock my head off, if he could. He left his entire right side unprotected, so I jabbed him again and then swept him right onto his back in the dirt.
Pressing the end of my staff against his throat, I asked, "Are you finished making an ass of yourself, Jerrome, or might I assist you again?"
Jerrome glared at me a moment until someone cleared his throat; probably it was Ilus. Then my erstwhile rival slid his gaze away from mine, toward the sky. Satisfied, I moved my staff away from his throat and extended my hand to him. He rolled away to his side, snorting dust out of his nose, and got up from his knees, ignoring my hand.
"I am the best new warrior since Heiro that the Jheudi have," I told him as he walked back to Ilus. "I can take anyone in Knossos, and like as not, anyone on Kreta. I trust you will not forget that again."
No one answered. They never do. I caught movement out of the corner of my eye and remembered my watcher. He had turned and was walking down the street, his dusty sandal prints brushed away by the short train of his himation. Faint disappointment filled me before I realized Xanthus was rising, moving toward me, waiting to drape himself around me again.
This time, I let him.
KAIGAN:
I first came to Kreta in search of better healers, in search of learning to heal better. When I landed at the island outpost of AkrotΜri on ThMra I thought that certainly I had been mistaken, such a small island could never hold the wealth I had heard of. Then, of course, I was told I still had a ways to go. And Knossos -- now there was a revelation. I had seen cities -- I had been raised in Nineveh -- but the beauty and crowds of Knossos astonished me.
And, of course, the Jheudi turned out to be more -- much more -- than mere healers. I learned from them as much as they learned from me, and I earned my labrys in this, my first summer with the Jheudi, to my surprise. But I could not find a partner, a perioikos from within my axe brothers. It was not demanded of me, but I would be considered -- odd -- without one. Not that I wasn't considered odd as it was. A tall, tattooed barbarian within the ranks of the labrys stood out, like a standing stone on a naked hill.
But I am strong, and I am fast, for all that I am twice the age of most of my young axe brethren. In fact, my age had surprised the masters of the temple, for they thought one as old as I could not withstand their youthful warriors. I disproved them.
So I stayed on Kreta, and I learned, and I fought. Their ways are not the ways I grew with, and so I taught as well learned -- I admire the Jheudi for being open to new ways and differences. And I kept to myself, for I have always been more about watching and listening than speaking and doing. There is one here, one who interests me. His name is Obiareus, and he is unlike any man I have ever seen.
Red-gold hair -- well, that is not so unusual. There are Pharisees that have red hair, and I have seen many blond Greeks. But they are mostly dark or olive skinned, swarthy, not golden -- golden, like my lost Siobhan, like this boy. No, I should not say he is a boy, for he is an axe brother, a Jheudi warrior. He is unpaired, even as I am, but I do not know if it is for the same reasons. Not as tall as I, or even as tall as his other brothers, he is still graceful, and long-limbed. Unbearded, but his hair falls in a long braid down his back, and his fillet always matches the belt of his chiton. He is vain, I deem; a good fighter -- I have watched him in the sands, practicing -- but aware of every move he makes, thoughtful that all his moves should be as watchable as he believes himself to be.
I do not know quite what to make of him, and Inanna knows what he makes of himself. I do not even know why I watch him, whenever he is within my sight. But I do. He draws my eye.
He did so again one afternoon as he lounged with some of his age-mates outside the taverna frequented by the younger warriors. It had been a hot day, the sun shining like a lemon in the heavens, and my himation was already damp even though I had just come from the baths.
I watched him push the dark beauty -- Xanthus, I believe, who I thought was Obiareus's perioikos -- away from himself, and then further watched as his face darkened in reaction to whatever his companions were saying. It did not take him long to pick a useless fight, one that would not be held in the safety of the sands but rather on the streets, something the masters hardly encourage. But he was obviously taken with his own prowess, and that saddened me -- a warrior who knows his own strengths better than his weaknesses will only bring pain on himself and others. He could be better than that; he should be better than that, my golden warrior.
Even as the thought crossed my mind, I wondered what I was thinking. This boy meant nothing to me, he was merely another axe brother, someone to share watch with, someone to fight beside should the king demand it. I frowned as I watched him handily defeat a Jheudi twice his size and make a useless, pointless boast to the men who watched him. Oh, no, I thought to myself sharply, I know you now, Inanna, my glorious whore, you will not trap me. I will not lie with a lover again, not even at your behest. I have sworn it, goddess.
Before my golden warrior could turn towards me where I stood, watching him, I turned and walked away, returning to my pallet -- alone. I had late watch that evening.
OBIAREUS:
Xanthus panted over me, the bliss in his eyes quickly fading to a look I'd come to fear: the half-comfortable look of a man who was about to fall asleep. He rested on my chest only briefly before I pushed at his shoulder.
"Xan. Don't dare fall asleep on me, you," I warned, hissing in the darkness. The barracks were full of sleeping Jheudi, and I was not interested in making them angrier than my victory over Jerrome already had.
"Why not?" he mumbled, settling himself again. "You're warm and comfortable."
"I'm not comfortable, you ox," I countered, and pushed at him. "You've already weighted me into the stones once, and my bones ache. Get off."
Sighing, he did, to my relief. I shivered as he raised himself without preamble, unsheathing me from his body and rolling to the side. He wrapped an arm about my waist and tucked his face against my neck.
"Xan," I pleaded. "Don't. I cannot sleep like this." I extricated myself from him and took my rumpled chiton up from the foot of his pallet.
He caught my arm in his long hand. "Why do you do this? Why not stay?"
I looked at his beautiful, dark features in a bare sliver of moonlight. He was slender and long, every part of him; that was what had drawn me to him. His hair smelled sweet, and his touch was warm and firm. Still... his eyes were dangerous. They were soft and wanting, beyond the desire for pleasure.
"Because you press too close," I said, a truth, but not only in the way that he thought. I left my fibulae unfastened, belting the chiton about my waist loosely and taking up my fillet.
"It isn't only that," he argued softly, sounding sad in a way that twisted my heart. I shoved the feeling down ruthlessly.
"Don't presume," I snapped. "My reasons are my own."
"Very well. But I do not think you should let Heiro's memory dictate where you--"
His words ended in a grunt of surprise as I pinned him to the floor, my hand square in the middle of his chest. "Do not presume," I breathed dangerously. "Do not mention Heiros to me. My brother's death has nothing to do with you. Your tenure with me is perilously close to over, Xanthus, if you continue in that vein." I studied him in the dimness a moment, then released him, brushing at the place where I'd put my hand. "I know you enjoy these tumbles as much as I do; best not waste the time with useless talk." So saying, I rose.
"Someone will catch you one day, Obiareus," he murmured to my back as I walked away. "What will you do then?"
I said nothing, only left the barracks altogether. I did not go back to my pallet, but stepped out into the clear air to shake the sex from my head. Quickly, I unplaited my hair and combed it through with my fingers, wandering toward the outcropping that overlooked the palace.
Ai, but I did not know what to do about Xanthus. Perhaps it was time to let him go; he irritated me like a badly-placed grain of sand, but he was not all bad. He needed to find someone who suited him more.
I turned my thoughts away from Xanthus. The night was clear and cool, and there was a faint breeze. I thought perhaps it was pleasant enough for me to make my way back to my mother's house, rather than sleep in the barracks. I did not want my first waking vision to be of a pouting, petulant Xanthus.
The gods are full of humor about the weather; they send the breezes at night and leave us stifling in still heat during the day. But the ocean shone in the moonlight, and that made up for the fickle smiles of the winds. I sat on a rock that was still warm from the sun, and began to braid my hair again.
A shuffle in the dust behind me made me turn slightly as my fingers continued to work: it was Kaigan, the foreign Jheudi. I looked at him curiously and he continued to look at me -- for he had been, when I'd turned -- but we said nothing. I turned and looked back out over the ocean, wishing I could find my tongue enough to ask him about the markings I had seen on his arms, or who it was he watched with tonight, or where he'd traveled. Instead, I stared at the water and tied my hair, sighing a little. The breeze tickled, and so did my curiosity. Finally, I pulled in a breath.
"You came on one of the king's ships, is that not so?" He was silent. I continued to watch the water for a moment before turning about. "Well?"
He was gone. That strange, warm disappointment crept upon me again, so I shoved it aside and rose, considering going to Xanthus and suffering his heat all night. Instead, I went to my mother's house and found that the temperate wind truly did feel cold against my skin. In all my eighteen summers, I have never truly felt alone: now, I did.
KAIGAN:
It was the next day that the one called Xanthus approached me with the oddest request. He sought to trick me, I think, for he told me a blatant falsehood in the hopes that I would -- what? Humiliate his perioikos? I don't know of a certainty.
"And what is this, um, ritual called, then?" I asked him, making myself comfortable on a deeper ledge of the bath. Xanthus had spoken of a custom amongst the Jheudi where one warrior -- normally an older one -- would 'kidnap' another -- normally a younger -- and take him out of the town to a place where they could be alone to train and learn from each other. It sounded familiar... I may have read about it when I first came... I would have to check. I think Xanthus fell into the ready trap that many of my axe brethren did; assuming that because I was a barbarian in their eyes, I did not know of Greek ways.
"There is no real name to it," he hedged, looking over his shoulder briefly. Two other Jheudi I had often seen with Obiareus lounged on the benches near the steam rocks, every so often glancing casually our way. "We just call it Philetor and Kleinos, actually."
"Lover and beloved?" I asked, hiding my grin at his dissembling. "And this abduction, it is with his full knowledge and consent?"
"Of course," Xanthus replied, obviously flustered at my knowledge of Greek. "It's only a formality. The origins are lost in the mists of time," he added, piously repeating that which the elder masters had often told me. I had little time for their ancient customs; this obviously not ancient custom I had even less time for.
"Why me?" I asked, surprising myself. "Why do you want me to do this? You're his perioikos, wouldn't it make--"
He interrupted me. "I am not his perioikos," he said tightly, looking down into the water.
I blinked. "Ah," I said stupidly. "I apologize, I thought... hmm." He wouldn't look at me, but the information he imparted was surprising -- and telling. Perhaps... But no. I had no time for this, no time to participate in the prank this boy was obviously trying to pull on Obiareus, for whatever reason.
But I hesitated, even as I readied the words to refuse his most generous offer. Two months out in the mountains of Kreta with Obiareus, ostensibly to teach him the ways of paired battle -- the real reason could be released. Perhaps this would be a good way of learning whether the boy -- the man, I corrected myself -- had the true heart of a warrior within him. Something inside of me whispered that I should take this bogus offer, despite my misgivings. I spoke sternly to it, but the whisper ignored me.
"Let me think on it," I finally growled to Xanthus, probably more harshly than I had intended. "I will give you my answer tonight, after late meal."
Hope flared in Xanthus's eyes, as did something else that I shied away from naming. "That would be well," he replied, his tone of voice rigidly controlled. "Thank you for your consideration." He levered himself out of the bath and walked to the steaming rocks, seeming to casually saunter though I suspected he was not.
I raised myself and stepped out of the soaking tub, water sheeting from my body to drain back through the tile floor. Keeping my mind blank, I used a handy sheet to blot myself mostly dry before pulling on my breechclout and my chiton. I only fastened one of the bull horn fibulae, though, and carried my sandals and himation rather than donning them -- the day was yet another hot one.
Emerging from the baths, I frowned in the sunshine, and reluctantly found myself walking toward the watch officer's office. I was certain when I arrived, I would ask for two months leave for myself and Obiareus, despite the fact that I felt your dainty little hand all through this situation, Inanna, my lovely goddess.
Well, so be it then. If you are willing to manipulate, Inanna, perhaps I can manipulate you in turn.
OBIAREUS:
I should not have gone home. I should have suffered Xanthus alone. No; I thought I would hide a bit, retreat to the safety of my mother's house. It was true; I had slept well enough in my own, cool bed, without a lover beside me, but there was nothing safe about her house on the following day.
"I have sent a runner into town for our friend Palaemon," she told me coolly as she chopped the heads off the fishes for dinner. "He will be with us for late meal. Be good for me, son."
I gritted my teeth, grinding the wheat. "I will not gift him with that honorable title."
Mother tipped her head back and sighed. "Oh, Obia, be kind to me and do not cause him strife tonight. I may yet live in the town nearer the Senate, and I would not have this chance spoiled by old wounds."
I slammed the pestle down. "I will not be in the house with him. You know good and well, Mother, this is not an old wound -- I live with it day by day! And I know that Palaemon --"
"No," she said sharply, stabbing the knife into the fish and the board. "We will not speak of that here. Heiro's death was an accident; you dwell far too much on it for the years that have passed. You will attend the meal with me, and you will present a good face toward Palaemon. The runner goes to fetch Xanthus as well; that should cheer you well enough."
I sighed, cringing inside at the idea of Xanthus, Palaemon, and myself all at the same table. "You would do well to run me through like that fish. I cannot tolerate this, Mother. Palaemon is embedded in the Senate; he will not pry himself loose for you, can you not see that?"
"He is very well embedded in the Senate, and I do not want him out of it; I want myself with him. Now go and see if Jormo has finished with the goats; I need that milk."
I sighed and went, unable to do other than bend to my mother's will. She has always been a fine parent to me, with the exception that she still complies with this politician's every whim. Together, they are insufferable, bickering and fighting and nagging, but apart, they are fine enough. It is well they are not married, I tell myself, though their... relationship, if it is such, makes me uneasy at best. Palaemon has his rooms with the other Senators, and mother has the country estate. If she moves too near -- or worse, into -- the town like the man claiming to be our friend, then she will be gone from me, lost in a whirl of politics and trifles.
I had already lost my brother. I will not lose my mother, too.
Jormo was indeed done with the goats. I carried a small vat of milk up to the house and set it by the basin. "Mother?" I called. "Mother, the milk--"
"Mother's gone out to the orchard," Xanthus said, rounding the corner, his arms full of freshly-washed bowls for the table. "Ai, but she needs to take a lover; I am always set to work when I come."
"You need to be set to work," I teased, though I was not of a mood to play much. "You are a lazy sod otherwise." Still, I felt a strange kinship with him now that I was on the cusp of a nightmarish meal with the scorpion, Palaemon.
He smiled at me, but there was something cold there. I thought he must still be angry with me for leaving him in his pallet alone. But immediately he moved close, looping an arm about my waist and holding up the wineskin he had strapped to his hip. "Look what I have, Obia. From my father's honey, and some of your mother's cherries. Married in the wine." He smiled slyly and I pulled away from him, disliking his hinting.
"I was only playing, Obiareus," he almost snapped. "You are wretchedly moody of late. Or is it that you grow tired of having me in your bed?"
I sighed. "Xan, Xan, please... you are my only hope tonight; please don't look to fight with me."
The coldness did not leave my lover's eyes. "Poor Obiareus. Whoever looks to fight with you would lose, is that not so? You have nothing to worry over."
Studying him, I wondered at his cryptic reply and then simply reached for his wineskin. "Let me try the fruit of our parents' married crops."
Smiling, he handed me the wine.
Palaemon droned on endlessly. Ai, it was all I could do to stay awake through his ramblings about the Senate and the king and Minoan imports to Troy and Aegypt and on, and on... Xan watched me closely, faintly amused, it would seem. Though I was bored out of my senses, it could have been far worse. Xan's wine was good and strong and he'd told me he had more along, so I drank and allowed myself to grow sleepy and languid. Soon, I did not care that Palaemon never silenced himself. Eventually, neither did I care that mother leaned too close to him -- I knew she was only clinging so that her chance at town life grew, and grow, it did -- every time Palaemon put his hand high on my mother's thigh.
My head had begun to throb pleasantly with the wine; I was warm and soon tipsy, eventually enough so that I could nearly convince myself that Palaemon was not a complete idiot. Nearly. To avert the subject of him from my thoughts, I addressed my mother.
"What'd you think of the wine?" I said, holding up my goblet tipsily. "Xan brought it." I patted Xanthus' hand on the table. "Good wine, Xan. Oh -- she hasn't had any!" I offered my mother the goblet even as she stared at me sternly.
"Ai, Obiareus, don't," Xanthus said quickly, scooping the goblet straight out of my hands even as my mother reached for it. "How rude of you; offer her a cup of her own." He poured some from another wineskin he'd brought with him.
"Thank you, Xanthus," Mother said sweetly, taking the wine and tasting it. "Oh it is perfect. Your father has such a hand for it. Tell me, Obiareus, when will you stop this dallying and join a perioikos?" She smiled at me, then at my would-be partner.
"Not," I said, tipping my head down muzzily. "I don't need a perioikos. I fight with whom I am sent, and well enough. No one to hinder me." My eyes blurred and I blinked.
"We shall see, hm?" Xan smiled enigmatically. He turned back to my mother. "Tell me, Mother," he said placidly, and I gritted my teeth; I hated it when he addressed my mother as his own, "have you seen the new Jheudi warrior? He is quite intriguing; I am sure Obia agrees." He looked at me sidelong in a way that made me narrow my eyes.
"I have seen him," Palaemon broke in. "He is unusual, to be sure, and savage." He sipped his wine. His tone was decidedly lecherous, and Mother, to my surprise and discomfort, looked quite indignant. The idea of Palaemon gazing that way on Kaigan's form made me feel strange.
"'Savage' he may be," I said, as calmly and slowly as I could in an effort to keep my words clear, "but he is a worthy fighter. I have seen him in the sands. He knows surprising battle movements that are very valuable." The last word drew itself out of its own volition, so I fell silent, lest I be mistaken for drunk. Dear gods, that wine was strong; I really had not consumed as much as I felt I had.
Palaemon waved his hand dismissively. "His fighting skills come to nothing if he will not mesh with the other fighters. He is alone far too much; he has no sense of kinship. Loyalty is crucial." He sighed heavily. "Ai, but I knew that the Jheudi's numbers would decline. It seems they will allow anyone in of late."
Hot anger welled inside me. "You are an ungrateful wretch," I snapped, far too angry for the subject. A small voice in the back of my mind told me that Palaemon was only being as he always was: pompous, nasty and prejudiced. But I rallied on, too angry now to stop. "We are who we are for the protection of the King and the Senate; we see to it no one disturbs your closed doors and discovers you bending women -- and men -- over for political gain. We see to it you are safe at home while we are directed about by your filthy hand. Do not speak of Kaigan that way, for you offend the heart of the Jheudi so."
My mother sat, staring and shaking, for a long moment. I glared between her and Palaemon until she said softly, "You shock me, my son."
My venom spilled over. "Do not speak to me of 'shocking,' woman," I hissed. "I have stood by you while you waited, tugging at Palaemon's chiton like a quailing babe. I have tried to be patient, tried to understand your need to be..." I struggled, hesitating, then spit the words, "as they are." It tasted foul in my mouth, but even in my drunken state, I understood the truth of it. "Your desire for gain at my expense, your desire to see me married off or paired to another Jheudi for the sake of your face is disgusting. I have had enough."
So saying, I glared a moment longer, swayed briefly, and then turned and left, headed resolutely for my rooms. I wanted nothing more to do with this conversation; it had made me angry enough. The difficulty lay in the fact that Xanthus was now murmuring consolingly to my mother as she sobbed quietly.
"....doesn't understand," he was saying, and there was a pause in what I heard as I readied a satchel. "....me talk to him, Mother. ...important moment... need your help. ...a Philetor."
I snorted. "Do not falsely comfort her, Xanthus," I said, less strongly than I'd intended. My voice was weakening, stretched thin, and I thought perhaps I would sit a while. My head spun, so I put it in my hands. "I will not take a partner, and no Philetor presents himself," I added after a long pause. There was no answer, and after a moment I stretched out on my pallet. A bit of sleep could not hurt. I did not think I could make it to the town proper in this state.
"...up," I heard, dimly. "Get up, Obia. Come on, sweet one, get up for me." The voice was distant and deep, a melodious hum in my ears, even though it sneered at me. A pair of arms lifted me somewhat, dragging me from my pallet.
"Kaigan," I murmured, and the arms stiffened and nearly dropped me. I clutched at a pair of shoulders and let my head loll. "Take me away, barbarian. Take me from them all."
"Ai, make him shut up," another voice said, and a grunt issued from the chest against which I was supported.
Cold water was slapped onto my face and I drew in a sharp breath. I exclaimed something wordless and opened my eyes, glaring into the face of Xanthus.
"It is the night, my sweet fish," he said, his voice cold. "Come to the flagstone. I will vouch for you."
"Voush?" I murmured. "I want sleep. Jus' let me sleep." I tried to turn away but found myself held quite firmly.
"Gods, keep him quiet, why don't you?" the other voice said. I realized distantly it was Choeros. "I am going to the gate."
"You'll be paid well enough," my erstwhile lover said as Choeros left. Xanthus did not sound like himself. He seemed very angry, very cold, unlike the moody, clingy boy who shared my bed.
"What is wrong with you?" I asked, struggling to open my eyes. "Did Choeros come to the dinner party? Has he met the venerable old Senator fucking my mother?" I raised my voice, hoping she would hear. I thought all the world should know; it would make plain all of her sweetness to strangers and people from whom she thought she could extract gain. "I wish I had only seen it!" I said loudly, as though I'd spoken of my mother aloud.
Xanthus tried to shush me. I batted his hands away and then caught them in my own. He looked at me, puzzled and, I thought, a little afraid. "I am not tha' drunk," I slurred. "Come, tussle with me one last time."
"One last time!" he choked out. "Why would you not think we'd have a thousand nights before us?"
I shook my head sadly, blinking. "Xan... oh, Xan. You cannot keep me. No one can. I will not stay in your bed. I am, as you said, yet in too much grief." I sighed and shook my head again, then stilled it as the world spun a moment. "Heiro cannot be recovered and Palaemon cannot be redeemed, and it is wrong of me to hold you at arm's length so."
He threw his head back and laughed. Laughed at me. "You drunken sot, you bastard, now it is too late for heartfelt confessions. Now, when I thought I would teach you something, you close yourself off to me." His voice turned sneering. "Then I shall send you on your way with false blessings instead of the real ones you and I should have shared."
Before I could puzzle at his words, he was there: my own barbarian.
KAIGAN:
It was long before late meal when Xanthus sought me out again, demanding to know if I had made up my mind. He told me that it would have to be that evening, since Obiareus was with his mother at her house and he had set everything up with his friends. Though I still had my misgivings, and I greatly disliked being rushed, I told him yes, and he told me what to do.
So it was with a growing sense of unease that I followed Xanthus' directions to the villa just outside of Knossos. It was surrounded by lemon and cherry trees, as well as a high wall, and was made with the white stone that is so prevalent in the area. Low and sprawling, it purely radiated money and influence. I readied excuses to leave should Xanthus' ruse be exposed.
It was full dark by the time I arrived, but Choeros -- another 'friend' of Obiareus and Xanthus -- met me at the gate and led me around to the rear of the house and the flagstone yard where my 'victim' sat, with Xanthus and several emptied skins of wine. He saw me as I emerged from the darkness of the screening and blinked owlishly at me for several moments before my presence seemed to actually register. Xanthus must have done his job well, for the boy seemed to be well and truly sloshed.
Xanthus looked up and then turned to see me, and smirked. I have never liked that particular expression, and on him it was exceptionally irritating. "Ah, I see your Philetor is here, Obia," he said, turning back to Obiareus.
"Wha...?" Obiareus said, frowning. "My what?"
"If you have come, sir, to take advantage of our friend, we wish you all good luck," Xanthus said, standing and motioning to me to come closer. "Because you're going to need it," he muttered under his breath, assuming, I thought, that I couldn't hear him. I gave him a sharp look but moved to Obiareus' side.
"Would you come with me, my Kleinos?" I asked him softly, putting my hand on his arm.
He looked up at me then at Xanthus. "Xan... what have you done..." he slurred, then when he tried to stand, he wobbled. Dear Inanna, how much wine had Xanthus plied him with? He would be no good to me in his cups.
Xanthus was continuing to smirk, and I wanted nothing more than to wipe that look off his face with my fists. But I don't suppose the labrys masters would approve. Instead, I turned to Obiareus. "I would ask you to come with me, my Kleinos," I said softly, trying to keep Xanthus out of our conversation. "I have arranged for leave for both of us."
"I don't..." he staggered again, and I caught him, drawing him close to myself. "Xan... what are you... what is..."
"Your pack, sir," Xanthus said, pointing to a bundle placed against the wall. "Packed with loving care by your mother, who wishes you all the best."
Obiareus looked horrified, and I wondered just what exactly was going on here. "No... I can't..."
"Ah, but you can," Xanthus said, and his voice turned snide. "I told you you'd be caught some day, Obia. Well, this just might be the day -- and with someone perfectly suited for you as well. I couldn't be happier for you." He turned on his heel and stalked away.
Had I not had Obiareus to tend to, I would have followed him and beat the truth out of him. Instead, I looked down into my Kleinos' white face. "Are you all right?" I asked him. He was trembling, but managed to focus on me.
"My barbarian," he slurred, and suddenly slumped, boneless, in my arms. "My lovely barbarian. Are you painted all over, I wonder? I'd like to see. Why do you watch me, Kaigan? I like it when you watch me..."
He was sounding less and less coherent, and so, with a pained sigh, I hoisted him up over my shoulder. There was no way he was walking to our campsite. Carefully, I picked up his pack and mine, slung them over the opposite shoulder, and walked out into the night, not looking back.
Inanna, you selfish, conniving... What have you gotten me into? What have I gotten myself into?
OBIAREUS:
Ai, gods, gods above and below, my head hurt.
"You stir," Kaigan observed, his quiet voice booming through my head as though he had shouted into my ear.
"Ahh," I groaned. "Separate this beastly thing from my shoulders, I beg you." I clutched at my skull, moaning and trying to hide from the vile sunlight that pierced my eyelids.
Kaigan sighed. "I did not know that the Kleinos was obliged to drink himself into senselessness, only assisted helplessness." He turned away from me and rummaged about in something, and slowly it came to me that I was not in my mother's house, not in my bed with Xanthus clinging gratefully to me now that he'd managed to secure a whole night in my arms.
"What--?" I levered myself up, startled, and then moaned and shut my eyes tightly. "Ahh, gods, where am I? What are you doing here?"
There was a moment of silence. "You do not remember." His deep, rumbling voice did not sound a bit surprised. "We are in the woods, away from town." At my startled expression, he tilted his head and raised his hand. "Do not worry. Your mother prepared you a suitable sack of clothing and personal effects, my Kleinos." The last word was upturned in cool sarcasm.
I stared at the grass in front of me, gingerly folding my legs and then resuming my clasp on my head. "Kleinos. I--Kleinos?" I all but demanded, then quieted again as my head protested.
"You agreed to this," he said, but I could tell that he was only trying to sound sharp. I ignored the ache in my eyes as I stared at him. "You did," he insisted, only a bit less certainly now. "Your mother packed. Your -- Xanthus was there, as was Choeros. We were witnessed off with blessings." His voice had begun to sound less sure as he talked and my expression grew incredulous.
"I did not agree to this," I managed to whisper. "What -- ai, the wine." I rubbed at my head, realizing that Xan's father's new batch of wine had not been the problem. In all the months and years of sharing the meads and wines Xanthus' family produced, I had never been so ill-affected.
"I should have known," he said, his voice now resigned. "I am a fool for having believed him." Quietly, he explained how Xanthus had come to him and "informed" him of the custom of Philetor and Kleinos, convinced him all was well, that I was amenable. The treacherous snake had lied for the sake of avenging his wounded infatuation of me.
"Bastard," I sighed weakly, and slumped back to the pallet. Turning to my side, I saw that I lay on my own himation in the grass, without even a suitable pallet. "I must get back to town. I am expected at watch tomorrow."
Kaigan shook his bearded head, and, pained yet further, I looked at him sharply. "No, you are not. I -- you truly remember nothing?"
I covered my eyes with my hand. "I remember insulting Palaemon. That was, perhaps, the most enjoyable moment of the evening."
To my surprise, the barbarian warrior chuckled. "I'll wager it was." He rummaged around again, and I saw that he was digging about in a pack. He retrieved a skin and I swallowed down a retching impulse.
"Ai, gods, I would sooner die," I moaned.
Saying nothing, he poured a small amount of something into the skin and pushed it at me. When I pulled away, turning my face to the side, he pressed it at me and said sternly, "It is water, you stubborn boy. Water and herbs for your head. Drink it all; it will calm your stomach and ease the pain." When I hesitantly took the thing, he rose, sighing, rubbing at his own head, scratching at his beard, deeply in thought.
I sniffed of the water; it smelled faintly of pepper and something green. Drinking a bit, I winced at the bitterness.
Kaigan did not so much as turn around. "All of it," he insisted firmly, staring off over the dry grasses.
So I drank it, relieved after a little while that my stomach stopped roiling and my head, though still hurting, eased considerably.
"What are you going to do with me?" I asked his back quietly.
Kaigan remained unmoving, staring out over the burgeoning day, arms folded across his chest as though he were a great sentry of the field. "That is the question," he replied, and I moaned and pulled a corner of my himation over my face.
KAIGAN:
Obiareus seemed to be further into his cups last night than I could have believed. Either that or -- No. I won't go there, not yet. But to have him sleep this far into the day and behave as strangely as he did last night... I do know that when we return, I plan to have words with that little snake Xanthus. I believe I understand now why he is not Obiareus' perioikos.
I stood and contemplated Mount Psiloritis in silence while Obiareus drank the medicated water I had given him. Far across the Amari Valley, I could just see Gournia's white buildings shining in the sun -- no, we would go south, skirting the White Mountains to a small, enclosed valley I had found on my first wander about the island. Kreta is a lovely place, with a wild and untamed beauty that is wholly its own. The oleander and lavender were blooming in the late summer heat and sent up a fragrance that could stun a man insensible were he not cautious.
So, we would go south. Or would we? It didn't surprise me over much that Xanthus had tricked Obiareus into coming with me. What did surprise me was my inclination to stay with him, to keep him with me for the next two months. Frowning into the distance, I tried to look at the impulse from all sides, to examine it dispassionately. Again, I can feel my patron goddess' little fingers in things; Inanna, you are trying to manipulate me, to get me to do things your way. What I need to know is, is your way the way I really wish to go?
"What are you going to do with me?" I heard Obiareus ask softly behind me. Good, the medicine must be taking effect, then.
"That is the question," I replied, not turning. He moaned with some theatricality and I heard him flop back onto the makeshift pallet. After a moment, I continued. "There is a small enclosed valley about a day's walk south of here," I told him, my voice pitched softly in deference to what must be a still-aching head. "We can pick up the path a bit over that way," I said, pointing my chin over my left shoulder. "There are caves there, a couple of streams, soft grasses and a hot spring that is lovely for bathing." I turned enough so that I could see him out of the corner of my eye. "I had thought to spend the next two months there, with my Kleinos."
Although I imbued the word with as much sarcasm as I could, he still glared at my use of it. "I am not your Kleinos," he nearly spat, then winced when his vehemence caused him a pain.
I kept my smile inside. "I don't believe that is for you to say," I told him mildly. "If my understanding of the custom is complete, you can deny that I am your Philetor, but not that you are my Kleinos."
"I deny both!" he said hotly, sitting upright. That must have been a mistake on his part, for he clutched at his head. "Oh dear gods, what was in that wine, Xanthus?" he moaned.
I frowned. That had been my thought too. But I shoved it aside in favor of other things that had to be settled now. "When you are ready, I have some fruit for you to eat," I told him. "There are always rabbits and deer around that canyon; we can hunt our dinner tonight."
"The only place I am going is back to the barracks," Obiareus bit out. "Since I have denied you being -- whichever -- both -- there is no reason for me to stay. Or do you want me to bring the labrys masters down on your head for illegal abduction?"
"It could hardly be construed as illegal when your own mother conspired in it," I informed him archly. "And my intent was not to follow this ridiculous custom at any rate."
He swallowed again and actually met my eyes for the first time since our conversation began. "Oh, is that so?" he asked, and though his words were sarcastic, his expression was slightly wounded.
"You do not have a perioikos," I told him gently. "You are a fair fighter--"
"I am the best fighter--"
"Yes, I've heard that boast," I interrupted him in turn, raising my voice as he raised his. "You are young, and you have a lot to learn. I would be pleased to--"
"There is nothing I could learn from you," he said scornfully. "A barbarian from some country behind the sun. I am a son of Kreta, and there is no reason for me to stay here and listen to this!"
His words stung, I'll not lie Inanna, but I knew the truth behind them. In his cups last night, he called me his lovely barbarian. There is truth in wine, and so his words now -- though intended to hurt -- were not true. I simply stared at him, trying to keep my expression mild in the face of his unreasonable wrath. I could tell that his heat had driven away the last of his disability, though, so it was not all bad.
When he saw I was not going to reply to his barbs, he flushed and looked away. Rising, he snatched up his himation and looked about for his pack. "If you are so certain of your prowess, then," I finally said, "perhaps you would be interested in a wager."
"What." He didn't even bother looking at me and that only fueled my displeasure and desire to teach this arrogant boy a lesson he'd not soon forget.
"Along with our labrys, I have brought our staves here," I said, indicating them. I would not go into any wilderness unarmed. "Think you then, that you could best me in a fight with either? If you are able, I'll not hinder your return."
"And if I am not?" he asked, suddenly stilling.
"Then you stay with me for these two months," I told him. "I will fulfill my end by teaching you what you do not know." I raised my eyebrow at him. "Either way, it seems to me, you win."
He stood frozen for a moment, then slowly turned toward me. "It would hardly be a fair fight," he said, and his voice carried an odd timbre. "You are fresh and have not suffered like a fool for the wrath of the grape the night before."
"I will give you time, and every help I can," I told him, spreading my hands. "If you are affrighted to attempt..."
That did it, as I knew it would. He face darkened with anger. "Fine. Give me time to eat and drink and to empty my body. Then I will put you back into your place, barbarian."
I merely smiled calmly. I had him now. "As you say, axe brother," I said, handing him the pouch with the cheese and fruit.
Making myself comfortable on the grass, I blanked my mind and waited for Obiareus to prepare for our 'battle.' I'm not certain now what I was thinking other than the boy needed taking down a peg or two, and this was a sure way to do it. He truly was a good fighter, I had seen that on the sands. And he truly did need more work.
And then there was this odd attraction I had to him. I sighed and tried, once again, to empty my mind.
He moved carefully about our makeshift camp, eating and drinking. He stepped to a convenient tree and I heard him sigh as he watered it for a good, long time. Then he began a series of stretches, probably in the hopes of purging the rest of the pain from his body as much to limber up. I had already done my morning exercise and felt ready for our confrontation, so I merely waited for him.
Finally, he approached, and by the way he blocked the sun, I could tell he was looming over me. "Well, barbarian?" he said, and thunked his staff in the ground by my knee.
"Are you ready?" I asked him, not opening my eyes.
"Yes, I am ready," he said, and I smiled inside to hear the frustration and condescension in his voice.
"Then here is your first lesson," I told him, pitching my voice as quietly as I could. "Never trust your opponent."
Almost before I finished speaking, I moved, sweeping my legs out and catching his, tumbling him to the ground. He fell with a cry, and, to his credit, rolled immediately into a crouch. But he had lost his staff, which made him vulnerable.
I rolled myself over and leapt to my feet, snatching up my staff as I did so. "And here is your second; you must always expect the unexpected," I said, using the butt of my staff to roll his towards him.
"That is ridiculous," he said, slowly rising from his crouch as he picked up his staff. His eyes were wary, and I liked that far better than the disdain they carried before. "How can you possibly expect something that is unexpected?"
"Ah," I said, lifting one eyebrow, "I expected you would say that." I immediately lashed out with my staff, aiming for his head. He countered it -- barely -- but did so over-strong, so that when I let him push it away, he was not balanced properly for my next move, which was to rebound to him on the other side.
My staff missed him by a finger's length as he danced away. The wariness had turned to concern and not a little anger. Good. I could use that. I continued to press him, not letting up in my furious attack. He backed away from me, countering my moves well, but with rising passion. "Your third lesson, then," I said, as mildly as I could, "is that a fight for your life is never a fair fight."
As I spoke, I stepped inside his guard and, using my staff to block his on the right, I shoved my left elbow deeply into his mid-section. He woofed-out air and doubled over, so I swept his feet out from under him again so that he crashed down on his back. Making sure I was out of the range of his feet, I pressed my staff on his throat. "And your fourth lesson, is never assume there are no new tricks for you to learn."
He glared at me, and I smiled. "Do you yield?" I asked him pleasantly.
"No!" he shouted, rolling away and jumping to his feet with gratifying swiftness. I would have been disappointed had the battle been over so quickly.
I allowed him to press me back then, but he had lost his temper and so had lost all. His moves were distressingly predictable and therefore easy to counter. However, he was swift and I was losing my energy rapidly -- he was half my age, after all. It would not do to show weariness to him, yet. So, I looked into his snarling face and said, as evenly as I could, "Your fifth -- and most important -- lesson is, never lose your temper in a battle."
Using a maneuver I had learned many years ago, I shortened my grip on my staff and twirled it, striking his staff out of his hands and, with one lunging, twisting move, brought him to his knees. I stood behind him, my knee pressed into his back, and my staff under his chin, threatening to cut off his air supply. He was panting and shaking -- whether from rage or in reaction, I hardly knew.
"Do you yield, Obiareus?" I asked him, increasing the pressure very slightly.
I felt him tense to move and increased the pressure again. "You are well and truly trapped, you know," I said. "I've never seen anyone able to break out of this hold. I believe that discretion is the better part of you at the moment."
He finally slumped and I felt the fight go out of him in a rush. "I yield," he whispered, and I swallowed at the pain in his voice.
In a swift movement, I released him and came around to face him, at a safe distance. It would be like him to learn my lessons quickly and well, but it seemed he had no fight left in him at all. I leaned on my staff and let my fatigue show, then, and he looked up at me.
"Teach me," he said quietly.
I smiled at him as I regained my breath. "It would be my honor," I replied, bowing my head.
OBIAREUS:
It would be his honor? My honor was crushed, my pride aching worse than my poor, befuddled head had been. He'd not only bested me, but he'd done it soundly, effortlessly, and using my own techniques against me, while berating my lack of skill. It was a warrior's nightmare. My pride made me want to spit that the effects of the drink were still on me, but then I might have learned that he had hobbled himself in some way for my benefit. No, I said nothing. I sat in the grass, watching him warily. His breath labored, though by now I wondered if it was a ruse to convince me he was fatigued. When he moved over me, I tensed.
"Up," he said firmly, tapping my leg with his staff. "You have a good deal to learn, my young Kleinos, and though you have slept away the morning, there is yet the day."
Scowling, I tucked my legs close to me and rose, burying the wound I felt at having been so completely defeated and ignoring his proffered assistance to rise.
Kaigan shook his head and sighed, and I felt if I saw him do that yet once more, I would scream. "You have too much pride, Obiareus. I am surprised the Jheudi way teaches nothing of the importance of humility."
"Humility has no value in battle," I muttered, taking up my staff and resolving myself never to go unarmed again in his presence. "One does not best one's enemy by being meek. Look me in the eye and tell me you beat me by thinking how worthless you are."
He set his staff into the dirt and held it away from him somewhat. "I never once had a thought to being worthless. But I was ever aware that you are quick, strong, and good with a staff -- something you, in your arrogance, forgot about me. If you allow the battle to become personal, then your anger will defeat you itself -- as you have learned. To your enemies, you are another body to be driven through -- nothing more." He regarded me critically. "Were I an assassin after the king, I would have snapped your n--"
"Ai, old man, but you prattle on," I cut him off. "If you mean to teach me, then teach me, do not sing me lullabies of things I already know."
Kaigan's eyes smiled briefly before his staff flashed out, catching the backs of my ankles and sweeping me to the ground. I landed hard on my back, letting out a scream of frustration.
"Inanna lend me your cleverness," he sighed, shouldering a pack and walking away, "for certainly a son of Kreta has nothing to learn from a barbarian from behind the sun." He paused and looked over his shoulder at me. "For all your vain beauty and skill, my Kleinos, you will have to get off your hindside. I am not enamored of you enough to carry you south." And he turned away again and resumed walking.
Growling, I flung myself to my feet and took up my pack and my himation. Truly this looked to be the longest two months of my life.
KAIGAN:
Well, it was certainly not the most auspicious of beginnings, but it was a beginning nonetheless.
We headed out immediately, and I set a steady pace, despite his obvious reluctance. The place I headed for was indeed a day's march into the hills south of Knossos, and since we were starting late in the morning, I wished to get there before darkness fell. Plus, we needed to find our dinner on the way.
Using my staff as a walking stick, I found the trail and led the way into the foothills. The weather was fine and hot -- again -- and I found myself laughing over the thought that it was hot. Hot was the desert of Assyria, hot was the reed-beds by the great river of Aegypt. This was not hot.
I heard Obiareus snort at my laughter, and I half turned to him, offering an explanation. "I was recalling the endless wastes of sand where I was whelped," I explained. "It seems hot here to me now, but only because I have been away from there so long. Now, that is truly hot. It is the place where Inanna rules, and where the lion and the scorpion stalk. This is paradise by comparison."
"You've said that name before," I heard from behind me, sounding grudging, and I glanced back in surprise. "Whom do you speak of?"
"Surely you know of Inanna?" I said, and, not truly looking at me, he shook his head. "She is also called Ishtar and Astarte," I supplied helpfully, but it still earned me a blank look. Well, I could change that. "She is my patron goddess. I was pledged to her service when I was not much older than you." I touched the place on my breast where her lion raged. "This is her mark. She is a demanding slut, but in all fairness, she provides what I truly need if not what I want." I saddened at the thought of my beautiful, lost Siobhan.
Obiareus had stopped and was gaping at me. "What?" I asked, pausing and turning. He began walking again, but a frown marred his beautiful features. I thought back over my words and realized he may have thought me disrespectful to the goddess. "Inanna is the goddess of love and war -- I'm sure you'll agree a most delightful combination," I said dryly. "The light-bringer, mother of all things, she is very close to those of us born of the desert. I was born in the great city of Akkad," I added, twisting my mouth at the thought of what Akkad had become since my birth.
"I do not know where that is," Obiareus said behind me.
Ignoring his tone -- which had been condescending to say the least -- I proceeded to enlighten him. "Akkad is all that is now left of Gilgamesh's great land," I began, knowing stories would help eat up the miles. "But I was raised in Nineveh, in Babylon, and it is there I remember best. It was there that I was pledged to Inanna to serve as guardian of her temple."
"After the harvest, Inanna goes through the seven gates to the vast underworld, where souls go after death," I said, letting my feet lead my body while my mouth led my heart. "When she enters the underworld, she must leave all her worldly attire behind, so that her life is reduced to naught -- she comes naked, you see, without her jewels or raiment, which defines her purity. Her fierce sister, Ereshkigal, the queen of the underworld, greets her and they see to the death rites of the sacred bull, Gugalanna. I will show you him tonight when the stars kindle -- I mean to say, if you have an interest..." I didn't want to look behind me lest I see his disdain in my story, so I merely continued.
"For two years, I was the sacrificial king Dumuzi in the mid-winter rites," I told him, grinning to hear the pride in my voice. "When Inanna returns from the underworld, she is always accompanied by demons who demand a mortal in sacrifice. But she always relents and returns the sacrifice to life. It was a great honor to be chosen as her husband and sacrifice. I was pledged to her temple for many years before... well, before we left on campaign..."
OBIAREUS:
He fell blessedly silent for a while, but then began to speak again. For some reason, he had begun to talk of Inanna, this goddess of his -- of some descent into the underworld, of the stripping of her jewels, of flies and blessings -- all nonsense.
"How do you come to know so much about one who dwells in the sky?" I asked him. "And you speak to her as though she can hear you."
Kaigan chuckled. "She can."
It was said with such certainty that it puzzled me further. I shook my head. "My mother's house is filled with small dedications to the Snake Goddess, but we certainly do not speak to her. That is for the king and the priestesses."
He smiled, but did not turn his face to me. "If you spoke to the ones who dwell in the sky, you would know more about them."
It made no sense to me, but I fell silent, as did he. The idea that he could speak to Inanna, the idea that I could speak to Minos, was frightening to me. After a long while, I said quietly, "I am only a Jheudi."
"All the more reason to know the powers that control your fate." Kaigan's staff made rhythmic chuffing noises in the dirt path as he walked. "The gods who rule the earth and sky are wide and varied in the world, and sometimes they battle. If you do not know them, you will not know to stay out of their way." He sounded amused. Ai, but I tired of him sounding amused at me, and it was only half a day.
"No one controls my fate," I muttered, slinging my himation further up upon my shoulder. "I am a warrior. My purpose is to fight for my king, heal my axe-brothers, and die. That is my lot."
He laughed out loud. "You truly do learn nothing." Slapping his large hand on my shoulder, he shook his head yet once more at me. "You will be as Inanna when you reach the underworld, stripped naked and hanging from the wall, if you do not open your ears."
I tired of giving him reasons to laugh at me. Every time he opened his mouth to smile, I cringed inside, stinging under the barbs of his humor.
"I understand that you brought me into the wilds to humiliate me," I muttered tightly, "but I also understood you brought me here to teach me to fight. I would prefer that you chide me with your staff." So saying, I adjusted my pack on my shoulder and strode more quickly so that he would not see, yet again, how he wounded me.
KAIGAN:
The sun was nearly gone as we stood at the entrance to our destination. I smiled in satisfaction, for the place had not changed since I first discovered it. It was a deep canyon, with a lovely wild stream running through it. The stream evidently originated somewhere in the mountains and had worn away the canyon over the years; it washed down to one end of the canyon in a small waterfall that I remembered as being cold and fresh tasting. There were still caves off the valley floor, not yet filled by the earth tremors that were common in Kreta. While some of the caves were obviously occupied, the one I remembered was not. And the hot spring was still there and still inviting.
In all, the destination was much preferable to the journey, with Obiareus' petulance dogging my every step. Inanna! For a warrior, the boy could be such a child!
Ah, but perhaps there lie the problem. He is not much more than a boy, for all he is years older than I was when I was branded in service of the king at Nineveh. The people of this island coddled their young much more than my people had, I deem, and I think it might have been worse for Obiareus, since he appeared to be an only child of selfish, high-status parents. I knew of this Palaemon, this politician who had insinuated himself into Obia's family -- that would be enough to drive any man's son to drink, in my estimation.
We carried a brace of rabbits with us, and I made haste to kindle a fire with which to cook them. Obiareus had proved himself very useful with a sling, and once I pointed them out -- by killing one with a fortunate axe-throw -- he followed my lead with a few well-placed rocks and now we had enough for dinner. I was hungry; my thanks to the spirits of the rabbits were perfunctory at best, and Siobhan would have shaken her finger at me had she known. But it was a long, tiring walk to my canyon.
We ate our dinner of roasted rabbit in quiet, as I watched the stars emerge from their hiding places in the blue vault of heaven. There was just enough light left for me to show Obiareus the lay of the land -- the stream, waterfall, and hot spring, and the cave I chose for us to sleep in. He took it all in with disinterest, and I suppressed my irritation by reminding myself -- he was born of Kreta. Its wonder and beauty were commonplace to him.
I carried fire into our cave and then buried the one outside. We would spread our pallets here, on the sandy floor of the cave, and hopefully get a good night's sleep before beginning the lessons again on the morrow.
Watching Obiareus' sullen movements, though, I realized I had my doubts of the wisdom of my plan.