Chapter Twelve
I stood transfixed and mumbled some vague and incomprehensible syllables, gesturing toward the fleshing bench as if I had left something there.
Eleni carried on walking toward the gate while I remained rooted to the spot.
The woman from the horses ambled over to where the children were playing.
That was when I saw the girl with the long black hair.
She was one of those who had been minding the babies and whom I had mistaken earlier for a grown woman. The pair greeted each other with words I could not hear before turning to the gate and walking toward me.
It was strange how nervous I was. How my mind twisted and turned as I tried to think of something to say that did not sound foolish. When they reached me, the pair were still deep in conversation, though I cut in with no regard for manners.
“I saw you. I saw you with the horses.”
As the mother and daughter stopped, a flood of heat flashed red in my cheeks.
“You are Otrera, are you not?”
Once again, there was no need for me to introduce myself. It seemed like every woman there already knew who I was.
With a lump thick in my throat, I nodded my head, but before I could respond, the daughter tugged on her mother’s arm.
“Mother, can we go now? I know where they will be. And you promised.”
“I promised we would go after I had been to the river. And we will. It is hours until sunset. If you keep pestering me, we shall not go at all.”
The girl’s bottom lip protruded as she let out a huff of annoyance, though her mother appeared entirely impassive to the display.
“Go, run ahead. Let me talk to Otrera. Quickly, please.”
Sensing she would not win the argument, the girl picked up her feet and sped away toward the other children at the front of the group.
“She is fast,” I said, watching her run away.
“That she is. My Aina. She has been that way since she was a child. Never learned to crawl on her hands and knees. No, she ran from the first day she realized she had feet.”
The woman’s gaze lingered on her daughter a moment longer before she turned back to me.
“I am Iphinone. I assume your day here went well. Phile always grants women a gentle start.”
“So I heard. Though the calluses on my hands will struggle to believe that today was gentle.”
Iphinone laughed, a quiet chuckle that rolled around within her chest.
“Your skin will harden soon enough,” she said.
This was the same thing Eleni had told me, and I had no reason to doubt them. How different it was from Prousa, where women were favored for their smooth skin and soft hands. Now, it was hardness that would benefit me. I pondered the thought for only a moment longer.
“It was you I saw, was it not?” I repeated. “With the horses at the river? I have never seen anything like that before. They are wild, are they not?”
Iphinone’s smile stayed fixed in place, though the small roll of her eyes indicated this was not the first time she had been asked this question. The embarrassment that had only just left my cheeks returned.
“I am sorry,” I said. “I do not wish to pry.”
“You aren’t prying. Really.”
“They seem to know you well. The horses. Were you born here in Ninniya?”
Again came that light chuckle.
“No, no, I came from closer to the Black Sea. A place called Comana. Do you know it?”
I shook my head. “I am not well traveled, I’m afraid.”
“Few of us are.”
I nodded again. The conversation was pleasant, but there were things I wished to know.
“So the horses…”
Again, Iphinone smiled, though there was no rolling of her eyes this time.
“Our relationship is all down to Aina. Come, let us walk to the river. Then I can answer any questions you may have.”
My body felt light with anticipation as we fell into a rhythm, walking side by side.
Iphinone’s gaze remained mostly forward as she spoke, though now and then, she would turn to me and offer a smile, perhaps to ensure I was still listening or perhaps to show she did not mind me pestering her.
“My husband was a goatherd when I met him, but a bad fall made it impossible for him to work. He could hardly follow his flock over rocky terrain when he struggled to walk on a flat path. That was only a couple of years after Aina was born. My son is a few years older. He is a good boy. Ereas. He is with the flocks now.”
“The flocks?”
“Phile’s. She has the young men work for her as goatherds. You will meet them all when they return here in the winter.”
“And your husband?” I asked.
Her eyes flickered momentarily as tension drew across her brow, and I knew then that her tale was not an easy one.
I waited, giving her the chance to redirect my question.
But after a pause, she spoke again. “When Aina was four, her father fell into a deep pit of darkness. He was a good man, right to the end. But this was a pit from which he could not escape. Even for us.”
Regardless of how little I knew Iphinone, the words caused a deep pang of sadness within me.
“You are widowed?”
“I am. I goatherded for a while, but I was young, and with two small children, I could barely keep my eyes on them, let alone dozens of goats. Not that Ereas has ever been a problem. It was Aina, really. The moment I put her on the ground, she would run away from me, usually toward a large animal or a precarious drop. I had already lost one love and did not think I could survive losing a second. Then I heard of this place, where I could work, my daughter would be safe and cared for, and I would not need a husband. During the journey here, I was half convinced I would find myself in a trap, maybe taken by slave traders. Many times, I considered turning back, but I did not. I will be eternally grateful to the gods for that, for I know in my heart that they guided me here.”
My admiration for this woman was growing stronger with every word, and I appreciated her candor, although we had not reached the part of the tale I yearned to hear.
“Aina was young, but she struggled to adjust to her new life,” Iphinone continued.
“She would take off at every opportunity. If we were in the compound, she would not get far, but it was on a trip to the river that she escaped me.” Iphinone shuddered at the memory.
“She had been within my sight, and I recall thinking how grateful I was that the other children were playing with her. Then someone asked me a question, and when I turned back, Aina was gone.”
I might have not birthed a child at that point in my life, but I could still imagine that fear, the stomach-wrenching, heart-plummeting dread Iphinone must have felt.
“What did you do?” I asked.
“We split up and searched for her. I was with the group who found her, kneeling on the grass under a herd of horses. Beneath the belly of one, in fact.”
My jaw dropped. “What did you do?” I asked again.
“I wanted to grab her away, but Glykeria held me back. She told me to watch Aina and the horses, and I realized Aina was laughing. As I watched, this great mare, a beautiful creature with a mane of ash, nibbled at the top of my daughter’s hair.
And each time she did it, my Aina laughed, with the kind of laughter I hadn’t heard from her for so long.
The horses moved around her carefully, never putting her at risk.
I stepped toward them with my hands out, and they parted, as if they knew why I was there. ”
“What happened then?” I said, wanting to know more. Aina was at least eleven years old, so years had passed since this encounter.
Iphinone smiled. “I tried to pick her up, but she caused such a fuss, stamping her feet and screaming so loudly that she upset the herd. I promised her we would return the next afternoon. The only way I could get her to leave each time was by promising to return the next day. That is why she rushes me, because she knows the horses will be waiting for us.”
“And you have built a relationship with them too? I saw you together.”
Iphinone nodded. “Yes, they know me well now. I have their trust, but I believe they would give it to anyone who wishes them no harm. Their bond with Aina is different though.”
“I would like to see them again—with you, if you would not mind?” I asked, intrigued.
“You are welcome to join us whenever you wish.”
My impulse was to reply that I would go that very afternoon, for I was certainly desperate to see this relationship up close. But Melitta had been at home with Morsimus all day and would be eager to hear my news. Besides, I still needed to collect my wages.
“I would like that very much,” I said truthfully. “Thank you. Thank you.”