The Coming of Aphrodite Pt. 01

It was mid-afternoon and the statues of heroes on the agora were casting longer and longer shadows. Zoravelina walked quickly across the flagstones, accompanied by Yiorgos who was keeping up with long strides. When they reached the foot of the steps to the Temple of Hera, she told him to wait and then went up alone. The pillars loomed up before her and, as the sun was above the temple, it looked dark inside. Zoravelina was wearing a shawl covering her head and she wrapped it tighter under her chin and went in.

Upon entering the great temple chamber, the sounds from the outside world seemed to become distant and muted. Zoravelina paused to get used to the dim light. There were the hunched shapes of women kneeling in prayer, while the priestesses in white seemed almost ghostlike and ethereal. Zoravelina took a deep breath, then turned her attention to the figure of Hera, Queen of the Gods, which stood bathed in the orange light of the flames in the iron braziers. The statue was twice the height of a normal human and depicted Hera as a stern-looking woman with a queen's diadem on her head. She wore a peplos--a long garment that went from her shoulders to the floor--while holding a staff in one hand and a small libation bowl in the other. She seemed to look down upon the praying women in vague disapproval, as though suspecting them of sleeping with her husband, Zeus. Zoravelina walked forwards nervously, found a place on the marble floor, and went down carefully to her knees. She closed her eyes, bowed her head, and began to mutter into her clasped hands.

'Forgive me, forgive me, forgive me,' she said.

She felt terrible, awful, torn into pieces. She had done the very thing she condemned her husband for doing. And she had done it with another woman! What kind of degenerate was she? Zoravelina had always seen herself as a highborn woman, a moral woman, a lady of breeding and character. It was a shock to realise that she could fornicate like a Dionysian nymph. Part of her was terrified that the ground would crack open beneath her and send her tumbling into Tartarus, where eternal torments awaited her.

But this terror fought with an opposite but equally appalling terror. It was the terror of never sharing a bed with Hypergamy again - of never feeling her embrace, her lips, her hands on her body. Of never again experiencing that loving bliss, that ecstasy. Zoravelina felt like the gods had shown her Elysium, only to casually toss her back into her old life and maroon her there. She was doomed to live the life of a faithful wife and it felt like a punishment. Syphon was right: marriage was hell. And there was no way she could divorce him without losing the children. The laws of the city were so weighted in men's favour that it was pointless to even try. The last time Zoravelina had consulted an advocate, he recommended that she move back into her husband's bed so that Syphon didn't divorce her. Men! Selfish bastards, the lot of them!

'Oh, Goddess,' murmured Zoravelina, her eyes tight shut. 'Please show me what to do.'

There was silence in her mind. No feelings of comfort, no sudden insights. Zoravelina's shoulders slumped. What was she expecting? She had broken the very laws this goddess stood for. Why would Hera care about one mortal woman's happiness?

Zoravelina opened her eyes. Tiredly, she got to her feet and began to make her slow way towards the pillars through which she had entered. The agora in the sunshine was visible between the pillars, but although the temperature in the temple was cooler than outside, Zoravelina had the feeling that she was leaving a warm place to go back to a cold and empty life.

'Zoravelina?'

The voice was hushed and warm, a woman's voice. Zoravelina turned and saw a priestess walk up to her. The priestess was a little older than her--a little bulkier too--but she carried herself proudly in her white robe. Her wide brow and straight eyebrows gave the impression of strength and intelligence, and she wore a smile of studied kindness. Zoravelina did her best to return the smile.

'Matrimonia,' she said, with a nod of the head.

The priestess took her elbow and walked her to the side of the temple, away from the praying women. She turned and looked at her.

'How are you?' asked the priestess.

'Oh... fine, I suppose.'

'And your two children?'

'They're fine. Thank you for asking.'

'And do you still live in that beautiful house?'

'I do, Matrimonia, yes.'

'Good, good. And, um... how's married life treating you?'

This was code for 'Is your husband's philandering especially egregious right now?' Usually, Zoravelina would enjoy the chance to talk about what a bastard her husband was and how miserable he made her; the priestesses were a good audience for that. But right now, Zoravelina didn't know what to say. Fortunately, the priestess took her silence to mean 'worse than usual' and put a comforting hand on her shoulder.

'I'm sorry,' said the priestess.

'It's okay.'

'Of course it's not okay. But we must learn to bear it with dignity.'

This was not the first time Zoravelina had heard this advice, but now something about it infuriated her. She stared at the priestess, thinking, 'Is that the best advice you have to offer?' Once more, the priestess misread her expression and drew Zoravelina into a sisterly hug.

'It's hard, I know,' said the priestess. 'But you are not alone, my dear. We will always be here to support you.'

Yeah, thought Zoravelina. So long as I follow your rules and row the ship in the same direction. Just like Hera 'supported' all those women that Zeus pursued and even raped. Zoravelina allowed the hug to come to a natural end, then looked at the maternal sadness on the other woman's face. She saw sympathy there but also pity. Matrimonia saw her as pitiful. And, in that moment, all of Zoravelina's confusion about Hypergamy's invitation vanished. She gave a small nod, mostly to herself, and looked at the priestess.

'Thank you,' she said. 'This has helped more than you know.'

'That's why we're here,' said the priestess with a smile.

Zoravelina returned the smile. Then she turned and left the temple, walking down the steps with a straight back and a clear gaze. She saw Yiorgos waiting in the shade of a statue of Jason, and she headed towards him.

It was time to go home.

*

After leaving Zoravelina's bedroom, Hypergamy had got dressed and left the house to go for a long walk. She had been accompanied by one of the house guards, something she disliked doing, but which was prudent under the present circumstances. Syphon had warned her that without official recognition as a citizen, she was a stateless person; a man could kidnap and sell her without technically breaking the law. Hypergamy thought he was exaggerating to try and scare her, but Zoravelina confirmed it. She knew almost as much as her husband about city laws, especially those which pertained to women and their freedoms. 'With no family to vouch for who you are,' she had said, 'you need the king to declare you a citizen.'

So Hypergamy had gone for a long walk, accompanied by a guard. She explored the streets, went down to the docks, and even found a small pebble beach past some fisherman's huts. She kept apologising to the bodyguard, but he didn't seem to mind. During their wandering, she asked him about his employer, Syphon, and was surprised to find out that other men respected him. Apparently, Syphon was a capable swordsman who would fight side-by-side with his bodyguards rather than hide behind them. He was also known as a man of his word, especially when it came to money. But the guard was silent on Syphon's reputation as a womaniser and Hypergamy avoided the subject.

It was early evening when Hypergamy and the guard returned to the house. Yiorgos opened the front door and stepped aside to let them in. The guard bid Hypergamy good evening and went off to attend to his duties. She turned to Yiorgos.

'Sorry about that,' she said.

'Sorry for what, ma'am?'

'Well, for borrowing one of the guards without letting you know.'

'My authority is over the household servants, ma'am. Not the house guards.'

'Oh.'

'Besides which, you are at liberty to ask the servants or guards for whatever you wish.'

'That's very kind of you, Yiorgos.'

'It's not kindness, ma'am,' he said. 'The lady of the house has given specific instructions that you are to be treated as a member of the family.'

Hypergamy felt her breath catch in her throat.

'My goodness,' she said. 'When did she say that?'

'This afternoon, ma'am. As we were returning from the city.'

'I see.' She frowned. 'Will this not have to be, um... "approved" by the master of the house?'

'Of course, ma'am,' said Yiorgos. 'But a messenger arrived to say that the master will not be home until tomorrow night. And besides, when it comes to satisfying the wishes of both the master and the lady, this household has learned to be... diplomatic.'

The man continued to wear his solemn expression, but Hypergamy fancied she saw a glint in his eye. The man raised his hand, gesturing to the doorway.

'The family are taking supper outside in the atrium,' he said. 'If you would care to join them?'

'That would be lovely, Yiorgos. Thank you.'

Hypergamy followed the man in the long grey chiton outside. The air was warm and fragrant, and stepping onto that courtyard full of greens and whites felt like stepping into a story. Cushions and low tables had been brought outside, and the food being served was fish and salad and bread, with dishes of olive oil. There were half a dozen people present: two servant girls with plates and a water jug, Sophia on a stone bench with the two children sitting on cushions on the floor in front of her... and on an adjacent stone bench, with her own table of food before it, sat the lady of the house.

Zoravelina was watching her children eat, smiling and relaxed, looking elegant in her blue gown. Then she turned her head, saw Hypergamy, and the radiant smile that broke across her face made Hypergamy want to run over and throw her arms around her.

'Hypergamy!' cried Callista.

She was on her feet before Sophia could stop her, running over to the new arrival. Hypergamy accepted a hug around her waist and the little girl took her hand.

'We laid a place for you!' she said proudly.

Hypergamy was led by the hand towards the third stone bench, with cushions on top and a small table set before it, as yet without food. As she passed Zoravelina, the two women exchanged a glance. Hypergamy felt her face grow hot and she turned to the bench to distract herself.

'I don't want to sit here,' she said to Callista. 'I want to sit with you and Castor.'

'But how?'

'Well, if we move this table next to yours, it'll make one big table. Then I can sit opposite you and your brother.'

'But you'll be sitting on the floor!'

'We'll move the cushions there too.'

'But you're a grown-up! You're not supposed to sit on the floor!'

Hypergamy bent low so she was eye level with the girl.

'Can I tell you a secret?' she said quietly.

The little girl nodded excitedly.

'I don't care what grown-ups are supposed to do,' said Hypergamy. 'I want to do what I want to do.'

Callista's eyes looked like they would pop out of her head. Hypergamy put a finger to her lips, then slowly rose to her feet and turned to face her hostess.

'Zoravelina,' she said. 'Can we move my table and cushions so that I can sit and eat with the children?'

The two women looked at each other for a long moment. Then Zoravelina smiled.

'Why not?' she said. 'In fact, I think I'll join you.'

Callista's mouth dropped open. Mummy was going to sit on the floor? Yes, that was her mother, standing up and gesturing to the servant girls, who put down their trays and went to move Hypergamy's low table. As they busied themselves making one large table, Hypergamy bent down to pick up the cushions on the stone bench. Callista grabbed the skirt of Hypergamy's gown and gave it a tug.

'We have to let the servants do that,' she said in a low voice.

Hypergamy hesitated, then put the cushions back. She had probably broken enough household routines for one day. She gave the little girl a nod, then the two walked hand-in-hand to wait near Zoravelina as the servants rearranged the supper table.

'Callista, darling,' said her mother. 'Would you go and sit next to your brother? I would like a private word with Hypergamy.'

'Is it grown-up stuff?'

'Most definitely.'

Hypergamy felt her stomach flutter. But she kept her gaze on the little girl as she made her way around the table and knelt on the cushions. A moment later, she felt Zoravelina next to her, their bare arms lightly brushing against each other.

'I've been thinking,' said Zoravelina in a low voice. 'Your audience with the king will probably take more time to organise than anticipated.'

'You could be right.'

'So, in the meantime, I was wondering whether you would be more comfortable sleeping in the spare guestroom?'

'That's the room next to yours, is it not?'

'It is, yes. I know I said earlier that--'

Hypergamy took a step forward and turned to look the other woman right in the face. Zoravelina saw the look in those green eyes and went silent. Hypergamy kept her gaze locked and said:

'The answer is yes.'

She paused long enough to see Zoravelina's chest expand and her cheeks go pink. Then she turned and went to sit at the table, drawing up her gown so she could sit on the cushions laid down on the floor for her. Callista began describing the various dishes, with Castor butting in to state his own likes and dislikes.

Zoravelina watched the scene, feeling like someone in a dream. It was done. She had a lover. A beautiful female lover. It was the last thing Zoravelina had ever expected to happen, yet as she watched the woman share a joke with her children, she found herself not asking the gods for forgiveness, but sending up a prayer of thanks.

A servant girl approached. Her place was prepared. Zoravelina gave the girl a formal nod, then went to take her seat and join the gathering.

***

***

Chapter 3

A Letter for the King

BEFORE HE WAS elected magistrate, Syphon was a regular attendee at the Temple of Hermes. He would offer prayers and sacrifices--usually in the form of gold--and he would ask the God of Trade to smile upon his business enterprises. Since he had quadrupled the family fortune since entering the grain trade under his father's tutelage, Syphon felt that his prayers had been more than answered. These blessings culminated in a marriage to the eldest daughter of one of the kingdom's foremost owners of farmland property. In short, Syphon was the definitive example of a successful merchant, and becoming a magistrate in the city government had only enhanced his prestige.

But although his government position now required him to attend ceremonies at the Temple of Poseidon, Syphon always kept faith with the God of Trade. Whenever he had a misgiving about a business deal or a colleague's trustworthiness, it was to the god Hermes he prayed to for guidance and insight. He received it too, in the form of intuitions and sudden realisations that served to direct Syphon's actions. He believed that his faith in these intuitions was one of the reasons for his success.

He also prayed to Hermes for advice on women, and the guidance he got was very clear: 'Women want trades that are to their maximum advantage.' When he applied this to his wife, its truth seemed almost painfully apparent. Zoravelina's strategy as a wife was to extract as much as she could, while giving back as little as possible. In the first years of their marriage, she had got away with it too. But once Syphon realised that she only gave him loving after he had done something that pleased her, he made a point never to do anything she wanted. 'If I have to earn your affection,' he thought, 'I'd rather do without it.'

This principle of maximum advantage applied to Hypergamy as well. She wanted Syphon to arrange an audience with the king and, in return, she would give him... absolutely nothing. That was the trade she wanted. And Syphon could either be a fool who lets a woman take advantage of him, or a man who stands up for himself. He had learned when young that being laughed at by girls was much worse than being hated by them, so whenever Hypergamy came to the andron to ask about her audience with the king, he would make some excuse and accept the hatred in her eyes. They both knew this was a war between what she wanted and what he wanted, and only one of them could win. It was a matter of principle now.

Then, one morning, the situation changed.

The city administration of Iolcos was split into four magistracies, each responsible for some aspect of city life and each one answerable to the king. Every two weeks, the magistrates from each magistracy would go to the palace for a meeting, basically to keep their monarch informed. On this particular morning, it was the turn of the Third Magistracy--responsible for trade, the port, and foreign relations--to go to the palace meeting room. The king sat at the head of the great table and the six magistrates, including Syphon, made their reports. King Pelias was a somewhat humourless man in his thirties who listened in near silence, although when he did ask a question, it was usually pertinent. But he hated long meetings and after less than an hour, it was all over for two more weeks. The magistrates gathered up their papyrus documents while the king rose to go back to the royal residence with his bodyguard.

'Oh, Syphon,' said the king. 'Perhaps you would care to walk with us?'

This was code for 'I want a word with you!' and there were exchanges of glances across the table. But everyone acted as though everything was normal and Syphon responded:

'It would be my honour, Your Majesty.'

Syphon accompanied King Pelias down the corridor and out onto the palace grounds, the royal bodyguard following a discreet distance behind. The sun was shining and the king smiled up at it. The two men were about the same age and they were both married to younger women. In fact, Queen Valissa was pregnant with her third child, after having produced two healthy boys. With that in mind, Syphon ventured to say:

'I trust that the queen is in good health, Your Majesty?'

'She is, thank you,' said the king. 'I will let her know that you enquired after her health.'

'Thank you, Your Majesty.'

'Actually, it's on account of her that I wanted to talk to you.'

'Your Majesty?'

They had reached the steps to the palace residence. King Pelias simply walked right past, continuing on the path around the great courtyard. Syphon walked with him, his heart thumping hard.

'The queen has heard a rumour,' said the king, 'that for the past two months, there has been a Phoenician princess staying at your house. Is that true?'

'Ah, no, Your Majesty,' said Syphon. 'But I can explain how that rumour came about.'

The king put on his listening face as they walked. Syphon licked his lips and began.

'A couple of months ago, Your Majesty, a lady did arrive on a Greek ship from Byblos. But she is not Phoenician and she is not a princess. In fact, she claims to be a citizen of Iolcos.'

'And is she?'

'There is no way of knowing, Your Majesty. She claims to have been captured by pirates as a child and sold as a slave in Aegyptus. Then, somehow or other, she ended up in the court of King Eshmun of Byblos.'

'That's quite the story.'

'Yes, Your Majesty.'

'And speaking of King Eshmun, I heard that this lady carries a letter from him.'