“Thank you, sir.” She turned to go, and felt him pat her bottom. She remembered what Wona had said about that: proof that a man was interested. That little token impressed her almost as much as his words did. It wasn’t a purely intellectual thing.
She made her way numbly to the apartment. What was she to do? What Ittai asked seemed inconceivable, yet she knew he was serious. She had to decide, and give him an answer. But what would be her answer? She was not close to a conclusion.
Wona showed up when her shift was done. Jes wasn’t sure what to say to her, so said nothing. That turned out to be easy, because Wona was full of news of her own. “I met this new man,” she said. “He says word got around about Trierarch Ittai’s new woman, so he wanted to see for himself. He’s a citizen too, and younger and handsomer than Ittai. I’m free tonight, so I’ll give him a try.” She perfected her appearance and breezed out.
Jes had not had to say anything. That seemed best. Evidently Ittai had been as good as his word, and spoken to another officer. Wona was not even aware that she had been passed off. She thought she was just being her normal faithless self, choosing among options.
The training sessions resumed. It was clear that the war was not over, and the power of Sparta and Corinth had been set back, not broken. There would be other encounters. In fact, the enemy had not given up its designs on Acarnania and was determined to dislodge Phormio and open the blockade. More Peloponnesian ships were being mustered.
Phormio, alarmed, sent to Athens for more ships. Word was received that a fleet of twenty fast triereis was on its way. But then they were diverted south to Crete, and were indefinitely delayed there.
“The idiots!” Wona exclaimed as she relayed this gossip. “Don’t they know we have a war on here?” Apparently she was coming to identify with the war effort, now that she was dating a younger and more communicative officer.
Jes was concerned too. The news was that a fleet of at least seventy-five ships was coming, and these were not an expeditionary force loaded with gear and troops, but were cleared for action. They were intent on destroying the Athenian fleet. And they had a new and talented commander named Brasidas. Not only was this fleet larger and deadlier, its commander would not be making the foolish mistake of allowing the wind to mess up his formation. This time the odds seemed truly overwhelming.
“Oh, by the way,” Wona said as she made ready to go out. “I believe this young citizen I am presently seeing will do. You may go home now.”
Amazed by the suddenness of it, Jes could only protest. “But you aren’t married yet.”
“I will be, in due course. He has asked me to join him in his quarters, and I know when a man is serious. Only idiocy will deny me this rich union, and I am not stupid in this respect. I will never let him go. So I thank you for your patience, and you are no longer my brother.”
“But what of Trierarch Ittai?”
“I told him I had found another. I think he was not sufficiently taken with me, after the first couple of nights. Maybe it’s guilt about his dead wife; he doesn’t believe he should be allowed that much pleasure. No fault of yours, Jes; it was a good introduction you made. But I have a much better prospect now.”
Amazing. Wona had no idea what was on Ittai’s mind. “Then—then I wish you well,” Jes said. “But I will remain to finish out my service, because I like being a member of the crew of a trieres.”
“Obviously so. I’m glad this service you did for me is not a complete waste for you. Fare well.”
“Fare well,” Jes echoed as the woman breezed out.
At the door, Wona paused. “But take his offer, Jes.” Then she was gone, leaving Jes stunned. That had been happening to her, recently.
Captain Ittai was summoned for a strategic conference by the admiral. He took along one crewman as án aide. Jes. She walked behind him and kept silent, taking and holding his peplos when they entered the assembly chamber. He said nothing to her about anything personal. She knew he was giving her a chance to overhear important business, and she appreciated that.
She also wondered how Wona had caught on to the relation between Ittai and Jes. Then she realized that the tri-eraren might have confided to the other officer that he had another woman in mind for himself, so the other would not be concerned about the chance of Ittai wanting to take Wona back. And Wona could have wormed that fact out of the man. Since Ittai was seeing no other woman, Wona could have added up the ciphers and come to a correct conclusion. Probably Jes had given unconscious hints when she spoke Ittai’s name, too.
For the idea of the trierarch was growing in her mind. She had never experienced wealth, but it certainly did not seem like an evil. She did appreciate his company. And his offer was most flattering.
But now there was more important business. She put away her idle thoughts and paid attention.
Admiral Phormio minced no words. “Admiral Brasidas is encouraging his men by claiming that their lack of skill is compensated for by greater daring and numbers. He also reminds them that whereas in the previous action their fleet was not prepared for battle, in the coming action they will be seeking it. He is correct.” He paused. “They have seventy-seven ships. We have twenty. We are at a severe disadvantage. I shall not stage the contest in the gulf if I can help it, nor will I move into it. I see plainly enough that a confined space is a disadvantage to a few ships, even if they are used with skill and are faster, against many ships inexpertly used. The fact is that one cannot properly move against a ship to ram it, if one cannot get the enemy in one’s sights from some way off, and if one cannot retire if need be in a difficult situation. There are no opportunities for carrying out a breakthrough or a sharp turn, which are the maneuvers of a faster-moving fleet; but in a confined space it would be necessary to turn the sea-fight into a land-fight, and in those circumstances the larger fleet wins.”
That certainly covered it, Jes thought. But what did he propose instead of those bad alternatives?
“Now I want you to have your men stay near the beached ships in good order,” Phormio continued after a pause. “Make sure they act on the words of command with alacrity, particularly since there will be little room between the fleets for embarkation and attack. They must be able to get off the beach and into a defensive formation quickly. In the battle they must regard disciplined movement and silence as the most important things. These are necessities in most warlike operations, and not least in fighting at sea. And they must repel the onslaughts of the enemy in a manner worthy of their former actions.”
Jes was disappointed. She had hoped to learn of some brilliant strategy, and all she was hearing was elementary instruction.
Then the admiral talked with individual captains. “Ah, you brought your pipeman,” Phormio said, nodding at Jes. “Your ship is, I believe, the most readily maneuverable in the present fleet, thanks to your piping and the responsiveness of your oarsmen.”
“Perhaps, sir,” Ittai agreed, pleased.
“If we should have to retreat, you will cover the rear.”
“Yes, sir.”
Jes was appalled. That meant that they would be the last ship, in front of the first ships of the superior enemy fleet. It was a likely death sentence.
“It is a position of honor,” Ittai told her, as the admiral moved on to another captain. “One ship may save several others, by interfering with the pursuit. But it must be able to maneuver very cleverly, if it is not to be destroyed.”
It was an honor that could destroy them. Jes brooded on that as they made their way from the meeting. Finally she could stand it no more. She broached a subject she had never, before this month, dreamed she would.
“Sir, I fear we are going to die. Do you wish me to—to be with you tonight?”
“Under duress? No.”
“I—I am volunteering. I would be pleased to—to do it. If you wish it.”
“Do you love me?”
“No, sir. I am only intrigued. But there may be no other—”
&
nbsp; “Jes, there is nothing I would like better than to be with you tonight, or any other night. But it is your love I desire more than your body. I will not have you when you are hostage to the fear of death. Sleep in peace.’”
“But I am considering—it is not that I dislike you, sir—I think I would like to be with you. I just don’t feel worthy of marriage to you. So maybe it is better to—”
“A compromise,” he said gently. “Be with me, but without any touching. We will talk and sleep separately?’
“Yes, sir.” Her feelings were mixed. She had really hoped to have sex with him, but couldn’t say that. He assumed that she was offering to oblige him solely from a sense of obligation, so he was being decent.
His quarters were far more comfortable than the room she rented with Wona, a clear signal of his wealth and status. There was an older woman there. “Serve my pipeman and me a good meal,” he told her. She nodded and set about her business.
Jes realized that he had been serious about the nature of this night. He had a maidservant, and he wasn’t sending her away. That was reassuring, but also frustrating.
They ate well, served by the maid, and talked of incidentals. “I miss Athens,” Ittai said. “But as it was, not as it is now, ridden by the plague. I believe I shall retire to some outlying province, where the crowding is less. Perhaps I shall purchase a boat that can be rowed by two or three, and explore the by-paths of the shore.”
“That sounds beautiful, sir.” She spoke the truth, but remained in doubt, because she didn’t know whether she could agree to share such a future with him. What he offered was ideal in every respect, yet somehow she could not accept it.
Ittai did not look directly at her. “Do you suppose a woman of the provinces would appreciate a Ufe like that?” he inquired. “I am thinking of marrying one, but I am not of the provinces, and don’t know what such a person would wish for.”
He was being careful to protect her identity, lest the maid overhear. She appreciated that, too. “I think she would,” she agreed cautiously. “I am of the province of Euboea, and though the women there mostly stay at home and work, there are some who do like the sea.”
“But would such a woman care to do it with an old city man?”
“I don’t know.” And there it was, again. What was holding her back? Why couldn’t she take what was offered, which was so much better than any future prospect she might have?
He shrugged. “Perhaps because she would think that the offer was not sincere. Or that he would tire of her, and make her a kitchen servant while he took a mistress, as some men do.”
“Oh, no sir!” she said. “I—I don’t think she would think that. I don’t—don’t know what she would think.”
“She’s a mercenary fool,” the serving maid muttered. “And so are you.”
Ittai smiled. “You must forgive my maid. She has been in the family for decades, and has forgotten her place.”
“No I haven’t,” the maid said. “I just don’t want to see you ruin your later life with that wanton wench from the provinces. Why can’t you settle on a decent woman?”
She was thinking he meant Wonaí Jes began to like this servant, who obviously had been treated well. There were men who beat servants for speaking out of turn, and it was clear that Ittai did not. This servant had a motherly or sisterly protective interest in his welfare.
“I shall have to seek a decent woman,” Ittai agreed. “One my maid approves of. It would not be safe in the household, otherwise.”
“Hmpf.” The servant moved away, theoretically annoyed at being mocked.
They finished the meal. “The piper will stay the night, and go to the ship with me in the morning,” Ittai told the maid. “He will use the spare room.”
That room turned out to have an internal toilet and a fabulously soft bed with a voluminous quilt. Jes had never before experienced such affluence. And this was just his temporary lodging while he was on duty away from home. Such a life could be hers—if she could simply accept it. So why couldn’t she?
And the answer came to her: because she was not a creature of affluence. She had toyed with the notion, but now that she saw the reality, she knew it was beyond her. She liked the lean country style of living. Having servants, getting soft—it just wasn’t her way. Such a life would drive her crazy.
And so at last she knew her decision. She would have to decline. That would be painful, but rational.
Yet she could not quite settle on that, either. So she went out of the room and sought the trierarch. “I—”
He saw immediately that she had something serious on her mind. “Shall we take a walk while the maid finishes here?” he inquired.
“Yes, sir.”
They left the house and walked along the beach until they were alone. “You have decided,” he said.
“Yes, sir. I—I think I could not endure the life you lead. I—I wish you were poor!”
“That is a novel rejection.”
“I am trying to be rational, so as not to hurt—not to make a decision I would later regret. But I do feel I owe you, sir. I—I would like to—to spend this night with you, and go my way tomorrow.”
“So as to give me some payment for my courtesy.”
“Yes. And to taste what might have been.”
He walked in silence for a time. Then he spoke in a very low and controlled tone. “I dislike gambling, but sometimes it becomes necessary. I am declining your offer.”
“Sir?”
“I suspect that your mind is not yet firmly decided. I am refusing your small offer, for the sake of the large one I want from you. Were I sure of your resolve, I would accept this night, for my desire for you grows stronger by the hour. But I do not care to win one ship, if it costs me the battle. I want you to take more time to be sure of your decision.”
“But we may die!” she cried.
“And if we live, we may live fulfilled. What is a night, compared to a lifetime?”
“But I know your life-style is not for me. Please, sir—”
“Think for a moment, Jes. If you bear a baby—do you want to be out on a mountain? Or would you prefer to be in comfort inside, with your needs attended to?”
“I—” She paused, realizing what she was saying. “I think I do not want to bear a baby. I would not be a fit mother. Children need constant attention.”
“And they can have it. In a poor home, the mother is bound. But in a wealthy one, there are servants to relieve the mother. You could have a child and still be free to row across the sea, returning at the end of day. I offer you not restriction but increased freedom.”
He had a point. “I—I will consider further, sir.” ‘
“Thank you, Jes.”
They returned to the house, and slept apart. Jes discovered that she was relieved, not because she had not given her body to him—he surely knew what to do in that respect, so she would not have been unduly awkward—but because the prospect of marrying him had not been ended. He was correct: she was as yet of two minds about the matter, and could not be sure she would decline again. But it did seem likely.
In the morning she woke early, as she normally did, and used the facilities to wash herself. Then she discovered something she had missed before: a feminine dress. One of Wona’s, probably, purchased for her by the trierarch, now forgotten.
She stared at it for some time. Then she lifted it from its peg and pulled it on. It fit her somewhat loosely, but a few adjustments fixed that. She stood before the metal mirror, admiring herself as that rare creature, a woman. She turned about, watching the skirt flare outward.
Then a strange urge overtook her, and she did something she feared she would regret. She walked out of the room, wearing the dress.
The maidservant was already working at the hearth. She turned as she heard Jes, then her eyes widened. “Keep my secret,” Jes told her, and marched on into Ittai’s room.
She stood in the center, waiting until his eyes opened. Then she began to
dance. She did know how to do it, having shared in family activities from childhood on. She whirled, making the skirt flare out and up, showing her legs right up to her bare crotch. She moved her knees and hips in the way Wona had taught her, making her body flex. She made graceful leaps, landing softly. She stepped forward and back, as if she had a partner.
And then she did have one. The trierarch joined her, matching her steps. Then he held her and turned her. Then he kissed her.
“Will you marry me?” he asked.
“No. I am still thinking.”
He stepped away from her.
“But I offer myself to you, this day.”
“I want that. But I want more.”
“How can I decide, if I know only part of you?”
At that he chuckled. “You are teasing me, you lovely creature.”
“No! I really am trying to decide. But it’s not fair to make me decide without knowing—what it would be like.”
He nodded. “Perhaps it is my groin speaking, but you have a point. So I will gamble again, bedding you without commitment. Come to me, if you really wish it.”
She hauled off the dress, flung herself into his embrace. They turned around, kissing, and then they were on the bed, and she was under him, wrapping her legs around him, and he was suddenly pushing into her with a sharp pain. She bit her lip, realizing that it was like this, the first time.
He pumped, and pumped again, and grunted as he swelled inside her, and erupted, and relaxed, panting. His weight was heavy on her, but she could handle it. She hugged him close, and stroked his head with one hand, loving being a woman despite the stinging in her groin. In any event, that discomfort was fading.
“You didn’t tell me you were a virgin,” he said, admonishing her.
“I said I lacked experience,” she reminded him.
“All women say that. I apologize; had I realized, I would have been far more gentle. There was no art in this, only my burgeoning desire for you, that I could not hold back. Another time, I promise, it will be different.”
“No, it was better to do it without art, the first time. I am glad to have this slight pain, of you.”