The next morning. “Eeeeeeeee!” Deia’s gleeful shriek echoed through the room. Eos joined in a little more tentatively. “Oh, mother, look who is finally joining us!” Phyllis' voice drowned the toddlers out. Queen Penthesilea waved toward the entry. “Come here, Philomene. You will sit with me today.” Faidra took a vigorous sip from her cup and thumped it back onto the table. The red-haired warrior had surrendered her seat on the queen's right to the newcomer. The new girl approached with small steps. Carefully, she avoided eye contact with the curiously watching Amazons. Penthesilea tapped the empty chair. “Seat yourself. We are having grain mash and fruits. However, I can ask Protego to fetch some bread and cheese if you prefer.” “Thank you, my queen, that- that won't be necessary.” Obediently, Phila slid onto the chair. Her hand hovered above the spoon. The queen raised an eyebrow. “Eat, then. You must be hungry.” Under the watchful eyes of the tribe, Phila guided the spoon into her mouth. She chewed a lot longer than the soft mash would have required. “I want, too!,” Deia exclaimed, pointing at Philomene. And off she was, already on her way to the big table. “No,” Protego leaned forward and angled for her arm. “You've got some of your own here. Eat that first.” If anything will be left by then. From the corner of his eye, he noticed that Eos was dipping her entire hand into her sister’s bowl yet again. Slurping, she started to lick the mush off her fingers. Great. Hippolyta made herself felt. “Alright, back to business. Will you let me and Cass join Alexander’s search party, mother?” Penthesilea sighed. “I don’t know how word of it has already spread. At the moment, that search party is no more than an idea. What does Alexander think? Arythion has tolerated the Morones living in the woods for tens of suns. The thieves retreated into the hills long time ago. And now that the old trade routes are in use again for the first time, he plans to dislodge all of the scum living there at once? What if they resist? Does he believe he could just wipe them out with one single blow? With their superior knowledge of the hills, they could easily trap any group of warriors.” “I could scout the area,” Faidra suggested. “I’m good in unknown territory.” Penthesilea shook her head. “The stakes are too high. I will have to figure out a safer plan to secure the trade routes before Alexander asks for our help. I cannot afford any of you dying.” Alexander's undertaking would take suns. Who knew, maybe it could never be completed. “Dad has already agreed to send warriors,” Lyta complained. Penthesilea threw her a merciless gaze. “Then your dad is a fool for wanting to save his recent trading agreements with Dareios. And he will fall flat on his face for it. No more of that matter. I have made up my mind.” Finally, the older princess leaned back. Protego breathed a silent sigh of relief and let go of Deia’s hand. The toddler girl jumped at the chance and bowed down to her sister to reclaim her bowl. “How do you like the food?,” the queen asked Philomene after a few moments of awkward silence. “You have barely eaten anything.” “It- it’s good. But I’m… I’m not hungry.” “Oh? And how is that… Is it maybe because you feel ill?” “Wh- what- no, I- I’m- I’m not sick. It’s-” “Maybe it is due to the excitement of having a new home?,” Cass offered an answer. “During the first few weeks in Santrake, I felt ill a lot.” Philomene nodded immediately. The queen smiled. “Well, it was but a wild guess. Too wild, perhaps.” In that very moment, a lukewarm, grainy mass and a bowl flew through the air and landed in front of Protego. Eos began to cry. Everyones' heads turned to the toddlers. And, well, to him. Oh no. Luckily, the little culprit took matters in her own hand. “No, Eos, don’t cwy.” Deia put her arms around the younger one. “Don’t cwy.” Fortunately, the crying stopped. Just some sniffling remained. Sisterly hugs would always save the day for these two. The queen turned to the new girl. “Well. Philomene, these are the tribe members who have already been sleeping yesterday when we returned from the market. Deianeira and Eos. They will become your responsibility to take care of and raise. For the beginning, Protego and you can share the task.” Something deep inside Phila’s healthy eye flickered when she beheld the children. Did her lip not tremble a bit? “So... That is your grand plan, mother? To buy a cheap slave to be our new provider when we have two slaves who can do the job?” “Do not destroy my good mood, Hippolyta,” the queen said casually. “Alright, I am sorry. It is just that it will be me having to explain Rheia why our new, formerly enslaved tribe member is of so much more use than hers. And hers is a seer, they say.” “Enough.” “A-hem!” Thersandros' presence alone put Protego at ease. For some reason, the younger man had the gift to appear just at the right moment to calm the waves of any upcoming storm. “The provider’s hut is ready for its new inhabitant. Lady Philomene, please inform me when you finished breakfast so I can prepare a bath and new clothes for you.” “Tell me,” queen Penthesilea questioned the girl again, “is there anyone else to consider in furnishing the hut? A child, perhaps?” “My queen, there are beds for Deianeira and Eos-” The queen shut Thersandros up. “Another child. Is there one, Philomene?” Cassiopeia gasped. Faidra cocked her head. Phyllis looked from one to the other, seeking any clue in their faces. Protego forgot to breathe. Almost tenderly, the queen took Philomene’s hand in hers. “What I want to know is, are you carrying a child?” “Ooooh, are you? Are you?,” Phyllis squealed. In the middle of it all, Phila shielded her face with the remaining hand and began to cry. “It is alright, Philomene. Being with child may seem like a catastrophe where you come from. But here, for us, it is nothing less than a blessing. It is good news and you can be glad for it.” She shot her older daughter a triumphant look. Hippolyta rolled her eyes but sported a broad, satisfied grin. “Two for one. Congratulations, Rheia will hate that.” “Congratulations,” Cass followed suit. Even on Faidra’s face, a soft smile appeared for the blink of an eye. Protego exchanged a glance with Thersandros until he felt a tug at his skirt. Deia looked up at him very seriously. “Eos spills food,” she explained. “Eos must go bath.” Protego examined the sisters. Eos' dress did not look half as messy as Deia had claimed. It was a matter of principle, then. “You’re right, big girl. Eos needs a bath. We'll go clean her up, alright?” On their way outside, Protego felt how pity for the new girl welled up. She had been a slave like him. Knowing how long it had taken himself to live without fear breathing down his neck… A couple of very tough suns awaited her. Gratefully, he looked down at Eos. She was following him with short toddler steps while Deia was holding her hand. In the end, I haven’t been that unlucky. Penthesilea let her eye wander over the members of her tribe. The sun was just about to set. The women were ready for a cozy get-together and the slaves eager to finish their last tasks for the day. Instead, they were all standing still, eyes on her. Probably wondering why they had been assembled. Eventually, her gaze lingered on Serkon. His face was not any less asking than the others’ ones. Now or never. “I have called you together to announce that…” A last, deep breath. “Our new provider, Philomene, is not the only one expecting. I am carrying a child as well.” Phyllis’ delighted “Ooooo-oooooooh!” mixed with an incredulous “What!” from Hippolyta’s mouth. Faidra’s jaw had dropped. Cass phrased her congratulations while Philomene was shifting her weight back and forth. Last, Penthesilea's eyes met Protego. His face radiated pure, almost childlike joy. Even from afar, it gave her heart a gentle caress. Just one person stayed conspicuously silent. And his silence stung. “Leave us alone,” Penthesilea ordered. Promptly, Hippolyta took it in her own hand to shoo the others away. Before she, too, entered the main house, she turned her head one last time. Then, they were alone. “What do you say?,” Penthesilea asked gently. Serkon snorted. “You made it clear that you do not care about my opinion. Is that more revenge on Zeuxippe? You know she has no means to learn that you will have another child by her slave.” “Why does it always have to be about others, Serkon?” Finally, he looked at her. “So you wanted it? Congratulations, then. You fulfilled your wish.” “You’re jealous.” The Amazon sighed. “Not that I was when you had your sons. Serkon, I did not intend to spite you. In fact, I would prefer not having to go through this ordeal again.” Serkon bared his teeth. “Well, that realization comes too late now, don’t you think?” “Women younger than me die in childbed every day. Amazons, too and queens.” He looked away but Penthesilea refused to relent so easily. “My body isn’t as strong anymore as it used to be. It isn’t fit to carry a child, nor should it.” She gave him time to think. He would need it, and more – a lot more of it. “I’m sorry,” he finally pressed through clenched teeth, staring at the ground. Then, he jumped up. “Your tribe members will want to congratulate you. I will leave you to them now.” With huge steps, he went off. “Wait,” the daughter of Thestia shouted after him until he stopped. “Will this child come between us or will we stay friends this time?” He breathed deeply, but didn’t move. Finally- finally, he squeezed out the redeeming words. “We'll stay friends this time.” Then, he stormed off. Penthesilea did not know how long she had sat there. The stone of the bench was still warm from the last afternoon rays of sun. She had just felt into herself. Into the fear, the oddly familiar feeling of carrying new life in her and also, a hesitant joy now that everybody knew. And in the middle of all that, she felt something else. Another body’s warmth. Careful arms around her shoulders. A breath at her neck. She leaned in. Part of her was surprised that Protego had come and maybe even more that Hippolyta had let him go. But at that moment, she was grateful for it. An advice for you: don't leave risky woohoo on. It always hits the wrong ones. Protego, Penny, you're driving me insane 😫
2 Comments
maladi777
6/13/2021 11:05:03 pm
I guessed that Phila may be pregnant, but Penny? Oh my. How is it even possible? I mean, she looks she may be in her fifties already...
Reply
6/15/2021 12:00:37 pm
Ha! Goodness, fortunately, Penny is just prematurely grey. She's only 42 and nowhere near being old. I have taken the liberty to declare that births have been a lot more risky back then and life was shorter 😁
Reply
Leave a Reply. |
Details
Archive
May 2023
|