Blood of an Empire: Helen of Sparta Read online

  “And now, you have kidnapped a Princess of Sparta,” Helen said.

  “So, I have.”

  Helen trembled when he told her he would show her which quarters were hers. Was she to be a bride, now? But he only showed her a small room in the ship, clean but simple and left her to rest. He brought her food three times a day and sometimes sat and ate with her.

  In a few days, she was bored of the little room and tired of the watching the endless ocean; even the frolicking dolphins no longer entertained her. She was relieved that he announced they were home.

  Home: the rich, opulent palace in Athens where they, unlike Sparta, had music, art, plays, dancing, and lavish meals everyday instead of just at festivals and weddings, jewelry, and beautiful clothing. Dressed in pretty silks, women danced to music, and trained animals performed tricks and danced to flutes, and other entertainers stood and spoke or sang to the masses.

  In Sparta, except for festivals, the meals were plain and often unsavory; Helen loved Athens.

  Would this be where she lived and reigned as his bride and queen? Would she be happy and love him? Helen didn’t know. But she did know that when he looked at her, his eyes filled with desire.

  It was enough for now.

  Chapter 7

  Athens

  At the palace, she was given to Aethra to be cared for.

  “See what you can do with her; she’s so, Spartan,” Theseus said, making Helen frown as he walked away. She bit back a nasty remark.

  “I see your anger at that, Helen, but you will understand one day. Sparta cares for war, war, and more war. The men are trained for war. The women are chaste breeders of warriors. But there is so much more. There are pleasures and joy and beauty.”

  She only glared.

  Aethra surveyed Helen. “Let’s get your hair and skin back to something acceptable. If he wanted you beautiful, he shouldn’t have allowed you in the sun and salt spray.”

  “Is he a good master? Do you like him?”

  Aethra suppressed a smile. “He isn’t my master. He’s my son.”

  “Then why is he treating you as a slave?” Helen demanded. “He’s a vile man.”

  “He believes I can make you into more of an Athenian lady. Who better to entrust you to than his own mother?”

  The rooms were beautiful with a huge, soft bed that was like a cloud and paintings and tile work on the walls, objects of art, luxurious fabrics, and opulence. Helen had never seen such beautiful rooms and such luxury; Sparta was far more stern and barren of comforts.

  Helen huffed, with nothing to say. Is that what the great Theseus wanted? Fine, she would be like an Athenian lady. “What shall we begin with?”

  “A bath,” Aethra called for very hot, almost scalding water, and the servants poured the water into a bathtub made of silver; it had designs in relief made on gold, and the edge was tiled in small squares of lapis, alternated with mother of pearl. It was very luxurious.

  Aethra studied bottles and packets, boxes and gauze bags. In time, she motioned Helen to get into the hot water, and she put sprigs of eucalyptus in the water, where they wilted and released aromatic oil.

  Helen sat in ten tubs of water, each to her chin, and then she stood, turned this way and that way as Aethra scrubbed her skin with honey and sea salt, whisking away the dull skin.

  In a while when Helen was properly scrubbed, she called for the water to be emptied and the bath to be refilled. While this was done, Helen lay upon a couch while Aethra covered her in olive oil and rosemary oil, massaging it into to her skin. It was relaxing, and Helen drifted.

  Aethra used wooden instruments to scrape away the oil, claiming she was getting the last of the dirt and salt from Helen’s pores. Each little instrument had a specific shape and size to reach all the planes and valleys of a human body. To get the oil absorbed and removed, Aethra sprinkled barley powder on to the girl’s body and rubbed it away with cloths.

  This time the bath had a bit of grape seed oil, lavender for relaxation and sweetness, sandalwood for stability, and cinnamon for warmth. The result was a scent of dark earthiness and a bit of sweetness.

  Finally, Helen was rubbed with the lightest oil scented with the same as the bath and then dried. Her hair was washed in lemon oil and then treated with sandalwood oil until it gleamed.

  Aethra drew her hair up in complicated swirls and curls that glistened in the light, and she fastened the locks with gold clips. Helen was dressed in a soft periwinkle silk that was as light as air. The silk felt light and wispy.

  Aethra showed her the shelves of clothing that Helen could have. There were silk peplos from crimson to bright yellow, to light green, to blue green and bright blue to purple, brown, and white. There were possibly fifty dresses, all in shades of the rainbow.

  “It’s a start,” Aethra said.

  Helen looked into a big silver mirror and thought she looked as lovely as her sister had on her wedding day. “What am I dressed for?” she asked hesitantly. Was it for her wedding?

  “Dinner,” Aethra said.

  Perplexed, Helen followed Aethra through the grand palace to a small room where Theseus waited. His eyes lit when Helen entered the room, and he desired her as he watched her movements. She was the most beautiful woman on earth.

  They were served a lemony soup and then fresh fruits; Helen particularly enjoyed the cherries. A pastry of fish, potatoes and tomatoes, and seasoned with lemon, wine, garlic, olives, and onions was next. Helen was so full she could hardly eat the cheese and the sweet dish of almonds, barley, and honey.

  Aethra excused herself.

  “Suitors have been railing at your father to marry you off. He can’t decide the best political move.”

  “I see,” Helen said.

  “This will give him a break from being tormented by the men asking for your hand. He has just married off your sister and isn’t ready for another wedding. By keeping you here, he is able to rest while pretending to plan a rescue. In time, he will send gold as a ransom, but really the gold will be for your upkeep, and then you will be released.”

  Helen felt her face go red and hot; she felt cheated and that she was nothing more than a pawn in a silly game men play.

  “So I’m not to be married but am just here to be kept out of the way?” She felt very confused. Theseus wouldn’t be her husband? She would be married off to some unknown man later?

  She was insulted beyond words. Her beauty was simply an item of barter to be given to who could pay the most? Is this all a woman was worth? Was this the fate of Helen?

  Theseus laughed a little. “Little Helen, would you want to be married to me?”

  “We have much in common and seem to be a lot alike in temperament, and after all, you did say you wanted to marry a daughter of Zeus. No doubt, I could do worse than a hero.”

  Theseus laughed and said, “I am flattered. I am honored, Helen.”

  “This seems very false,” Helen said, “I am disappointed in the need to play act and pretend, and meanwhile, I am not properly married.”

  “And you wish to be a bride?”

  “I do. I wish to fall in love with a man and have him love me beyond words as our hearts beat as one. And we will have beautiful children; yes, I want that very much, Theseus. What else could I do?”

  “You desire real love in a world that views women as a commodity to bear heirs and warm beds. You are not a woman who blithered though life, unknowing and unmasking. How sad that is.”

  “It’s sad that I am aware.”

  “It would be better to be ignorant. Is it not best for an ugly woman never to see her reflection? Is it not best for a stupid man to be ignorant of his stupidity? One should never hunger if he can’t be fed or thirst if he can’t drink. That’s cruel. After all, I saw my men thirst and hunger and not find satisfaction.”

  Helen shrugged. “Then, I have been cruelly cast.”

  His eyes were glazed as he helped Helen to her feet and escorted her back to her rooms. He inhaled her f
ragrance; his favorite was underneath; she smelled like Helen. Dizzy with desire, he meant to clasp her arm but instead, caught her warm side, almost bare in the filmy silk. He lowered his head, almost drunk with her warmth, “Helen….”

  She turned her face to his, parting her lips, and he kissed her, awakening tingling and heat in her body as she clung to him, molding herself to his muscular frame. He explored her mouth with his groaning as he edged close to losing control.

  With inhuman strength, Theseus pulled away from her.

  “You witch,” he breathed softly, “you are trying to cast your spell on me.”

  Helen didn’t like that he had pulled away when she wanted more, but she knew that this was a strong first step to having her heart’s desire. It shocked her to realize with a jolt that this man, Theseus, might be her true love. “I’ve already cast the spell; it’s working as I planned,” she said as she smiled in a saucy way.

  “I swore to your father that I would return you with your maiden head intact.”

  Helen only smiled.

  Over the next few days, Aethra dressed her in the morning for walks and horseback rides with Theseus as he showed her his kingdom. They talked for hours as they walked or rode, sharing intimate stories and memories until they were both laid bare to one another. In the daytime, she was his friend and consort, witty, clever, and bright.

  In the evenings, Aethra dressed her again but more enticingly, and Helen was then Theseus’ temptation, and he suffered as she teased him and flirted. She was chaste and never encouraged another kiss, biding her time, letting the tension build.

  “I gave your father my word that you would keep your virginity, and this was not a marriage,” Theseus said one night.

  “And have you ever broken your word?” Helen asked casually.

  “I have,” he said, but he wouldn’t look her in the eyes.

  “What would your friend, who sits on a bench in the underworld, tell you to do? Would he, who is left for all eternity to sit with only his memories and thoughts, tell you it is better to collect memories or to shun them?”

  “Helen, you are trying to seduce me after I gave my word; your father won’t give a lavish wedding for you as he did for your sister. He would consider you a captive bride and wax bitter over it.”

  “You are Theseus,” she said, standing. She left the room in a wisp of aqua silk.

  Theseus sat for a second and then ran down the halls after her, catching her in a passage. “You have bewitched me.” He kissed her; then, his mouth was hungry, and he tasted her throat and couldn’t get enough of her. He kissed her hard and felt her body through the silk, and it wasn’t enough. In almost a madness of the mind, Theseus scooped her into his arms and carried her to her chambers where he laid her on the big, plush bed.

  In a dream-like state, he undressed her, and when she was nude before him, he had tears in his eyes. “You are perfection. You will be mine tonight.”

  Helen eagerly embraced him.

  She was his every night that followed.

  And in every way, she was his bride and the queen, only not recognized officially. She was Helen.

  Chapter 8

  The Curse

  One day, the unthinkable came to pass. I had cramps, hungered, and thirsted, and I knew I was in a terrible situation. I would get terribly ill if I let this go, and if I told Aethra, she would think I was a monster and would possibly let me suffer or subject me to ridicule and torture.

  Aethra worried over me, fretting.

  “She’s pale,” she told Theseus, “and she thirsts and hungers, but I can’t find anything that satisfies her. She has a fever. She’s in pain, and it worsens.

  This reminds me of the days on my ship and the curse of the Amazonian women,” replied Theseus.

  Theseus sat beside me, his face a mask of concern as he held my hand, “Can you fix her something? Should I call for a new physician? What should I do?”

  A score of physicians had already been there and had been sent away, unable to do anything.

  “I don’t know. It’s serious, however. Helen, have you ever experienced something like this before?”

  I nodded, miserably. Should I trust Aethra and hide the truth from Theseus, or should I tell the man I loved and not tell his mother, my nurse? I just moaned and tried to sink deeper into the bed, wishing to vanish in the soft down. “It’s an illness I suffer. It is what my mite'ra suffered.”

  Theseus looked stricken. “Oh, Helen, what can we do? What is your malady?” he showed concern.

  “My mother and I are cursed by this, and there is no cure, only a cessation of symptoms if I partake of the medication, and if I don’t, I will suffer and will perhaps one day die if the gods so will it.” Just seeing the concern and love in his eyes was enough that I would die happily.

  Theseus raised his head of handsome curls, “Then we shall get your medication, and then you will recover, yes?

  I cried into my pillow. “No, no, Theseus. The medication is, I mean, the treatment is a horrible and a terrible thing and very complicated, and I can’t even tell you, much less take steps to help myself. I am so ashamed.”

  “Whisper to me. Tell me the secret,” Aethra leaned close.

  “Tell her,” Theseus ordered.

  I had hardly begun to speak when she pulled away with a shocked look on her face, but I mistook the emotion for disgust when it was understanding and astonishment.

  She reassured me and said she was only surprised. “I have heard old stories and thought they were just stories. I never dreamed they were true or had a basis, in fact.

  Helen, what man has ever been able to resist you? Every man is possessed of you and is that not like the stories of the succubae and the lamia, who possessed men and drank their life’s blood and ate of their flesh? It is magic by the goddess Aphrodite, to be sure.”

  “I don’t know….” I began.

  “It is. Men love you so much. They would trade their lives and souls.”

  “What is this?” Theseus asked.

  His mother explained the old stories. “Theseus, it isn’t a curse, but a gift of power and beauty. She is a lioness. She is a raptor who is perfectly made to hunt and kill and take what she wants…what she needs. She is like Antiope. She needs blood-wine.”

  “I wasn’t bitten,” Theseus showed off his unmarked throat.

  Aethra made a motion of dismissal. “You love her with your mind and soul and psyche, but I am speaking of the body. The soma.” She paced the floor, thinking.

  “But the ones…the victims…they are nothing afterwards.”

  “Of course, they are.”

  Because Theseus looked neutral, but curious and Aethra was fascinated, I explained how I had sneaked outside in the dark in red chitons and found victims for myself. I described all of them, including the herdsman, the whore, and the child.

  “In the following weeks, we heard there was an illness in the village, a girl and young child from the baths who had taken ill. They said the two had a terrible flux and could not keep themselves from vomiting and that their bowels refused to stop spewing filth.”

  I shivered.

  “The two were said to be pale, and even their eyes lightened; they were unable to take but sips of watered wine, and were so weak and ill that even the barest of rays of sunlight caused tremendous skin pain. It was an odd malady that everyone spoke of and feared would sweep the villages and then everywhere else.”

  “Why? Did they not die?” Aethra asked me.

  “I thought they would have. I took a lot of blood, and they were bleeding when I left. Their wounds were terrible and should have gotten putrid, but both lived.

  The gossip was a succubus attacked them, like you said, Aethra. I don’t know what might have become of them, but I spoke to my nurse, and she reminded me that my mother had always either bled the person dry until there was no heartbeat, left him where the sun would blaze down, or killed him with a silver dagger.”

  “Silver,” Theseus muse
d.

  “So it is thought. In the village, it so happened the physician, a very intelligent man, or perhaps just lucky, treated his patients with quick silver,” I added.

  “And? What happened?” Aethra was all but taking notation and no doubt was storing all of this information away in her head.

  “They died,” I replied. They shriveled up and looked like a week-old corpse, as they should have.

  “Good. Fascinating,” Aethra said.

  “Good?” Theseus looked surprised.

  “Of course, they were peacefully finished and no longer suffered, and the frightening malady was gone, and so no one feared a plague anymore. In addition, the physician learned the cure, and it all worked out.”

  “The cure was death.”

  Aethra shrugged, “Sometimes, that is the best we can hope for. Brilliant. And Helen, what did you learn from this?”

  “To bleed them dry or finish them with silver,” I said, but I had to stop as a terrible spasm hit me, and I doubled over from pain.

  Theseus held my hand tightly and grimaced to see my misery. I still opened my eyes a slit to peek at Aethra; she was unlike any woman I had ever known, thirsty for knowledge, strong, open-minded, and kind.

  “She’s in pain,” he told Aethra, his mother, pleading for an answer.

  “And we know what will help her. Surely we have a thief or worse among the slaves, someone of a mean disposition and of blight on the world who will only be missed in a joyful manner? He shouldn’t be diseased, too old, and not of terrible conditions.”

  Theseus listened carefully. “I have a few in mind. For Helen, I would give the most lovely, innocent maiden, but if that will suffice, we can arrange it easily.”

  “Go; take a tisane of poppy flowers and wine, let him fall asleep, and bring him here.”

  Aethra bathed my face as I shivered and burned. Were they about to do this? Would I soon be free of the pain? I couldn’t imagine they would help me, knowing I was monstrous. She helped me sip a tea that contained poppy, and despite myself, I slept a little, only to awaken more miserable, in pain that approached agony.