Sequel: The White Doe ›
Status: 1 of 7 volumes. Complete.
A Good Run
Eight
It is dawn, a day and a half ago and Thessily is hiding in the shadows of Sparta, listening to Phidippides plead Athen's case. She aches all over, the muscles in her calves and thighs and back drawn taut like sun-baked fishing nets. The wound from the arrow seeps steadily and occasionally she begins to shiver and cannot stop for a time.
Phidippides is saying, "Men of Lacedaemon, the Athenians beseech you to hasten to their aid and not allow that state, which is the most ancient in all Greece, to be enslaved by the barbarians..."
She already knows the answer will be no, that the Spartans will not come--or at least not come yet, though she did not realize this until just hours before, running in the darkness. She wonders why Thoas did not realize this as well.
The Spartans will not march until the full moon, when they are at their most powerful and of course, that is what their king is telling Phidippides now. Our religion forbids marching sooner, he is saying, it would earn the wrath of our gods. We cannot march until the full moon. If men of Athens can hold out until then...
Phidippides offers the king formal thanks, bows and departs, saying that he doubts Athens has much time.
Thessily admires his diplomatic skill; she has never been good with words and even though Thoas has spent the last several years trying to teach her manners, Thessily knows she would only make matters worse if she tried to plead the case. Women in Sparta have less standing even than women in Athens and while she can claim to be the hierphant's aide, that will not grant her respect, only privacy.
She moves from the shadows to the edge of the fortress-city, waiting for Phidippides to emerge and another bout of shaking strikes her. Her mouth feels full of wet wool and her vision blurs.
She thinks about her life and tries not to be angry. She tries not to hate the Oracle at Delphi, who ruined everything.
Sometimes she wishes she had died with the Horde.
Phidippides comes through the city gates and immediately begins running.
Thessily fights to control her limbs and her thoughts and follows.
Phidippides is saying, "Men of Lacedaemon, the Athenians beseech you to hasten to their aid and not allow that state, which is the most ancient in all Greece, to be enslaved by the barbarians..."
She already knows the answer will be no, that the Spartans will not come--or at least not come yet, though she did not realize this until just hours before, running in the darkness. She wonders why Thoas did not realize this as well.
The Spartans will not march until the full moon, when they are at their most powerful and of course, that is what their king is telling Phidippides now. Our religion forbids marching sooner, he is saying, it would earn the wrath of our gods. We cannot march until the full moon. If men of Athens can hold out until then...
Phidippides offers the king formal thanks, bows and departs, saying that he doubts Athens has much time.
Thessily admires his diplomatic skill; she has never been good with words and even though Thoas has spent the last several years trying to teach her manners, Thessily knows she would only make matters worse if she tried to plead the case. Women in Sparta have less standing even than women in Athens and while she can claim to be the hierphant's aide, that will not grant her respect, only privacy.
She moves from the shadows to the edge of the fortress-city, waiting for Phidippides to emerge and another bout of shaking strikes her. Her mouth feels full of wet wool and her vision blurs.
She thinks about her life and tries not to be angry. She tries not to hate the Oracle at Delphi, who ruined everything.
Sometimes she wishes she had died with the Horde.
Phidippides comes through the city gates and immediately begins running.
Thessily fights to control her limbs and her thoughts and follows.