Chapter Twenty-Nine
It was four days before I could return to the tannery, and though almost every woman protested, I resumed my task of lifting wet skins.
I needed my strength. I ran too. Only small distances, for it was not long before I was coughing and wheezing and the cramps in my ribs had me doubled over in pain.
Still, I did not accept help to stand. I would grow strong on my own.
And if Phile would not help me get rid of Morsimus, I would find another way.
“I would help you kill them.” Althea was quick with her answer when I mentioned my intentions. “You are not the first woman to suggest such a thing.”
Her response did not surprise me, but neither did it fill me with hope.
“But do they mean it?” I said. “I do not say this lightly. These men have raped and ruined enough. We deserve our time of freedom.”
“I will try to recall which women spoke of such things,” Althea promised. “Discuss matters with them. Discreetly. See if they still feel the same way.”
Many did. They caught me in between tasks, accosted me in corners of the tannery, always with hushed voices and eyes darting quickly from side to side as though they feared being overheard.
“For what he has done to our daughter.” One could barely speak through the tears. “I wish to kill him myself.”
“I cannot survive with him much longer. Gods forgive me, but I even picked the hemlock flowers, though I have not yet had the courage to use them.”
Some were less sure.
“How could we? What if they found out? What if he overpowered me?”
These were questions for which I had no answers, but I did not need answers yet. I needed us to come together. Yet one familiar face did not come and find me. Instead, she sent an emissary in the form of Damaris.
“Eleni is concerned. Rumors have spread that you are planning to kill all the men in the village. She is worried that you will get yourself hurt.”
It was unlike Eleni not to voice her opinion herself, and the fact that she did not speak openly left me sadder than I might have expected. Still, I shut down my doubts as I replied.
“What I am trying to do is make us free women.”
“Is any woman free?” Damaris was as blunt as always, but I was no longer put off by her manner.
“Then we shall be the first. A village of women. A tribe, even, that needs no men.”
“So with no men, there will be no children. Who will take care of us when we are old?”
“We have children in the village. Dozens of children. Boys who will grow into men who don’t beat their wives for fun or sport.”
Damaris nodded. In many, such a gesture would imply agreement, yet I struggled to read her expression.
“And what of the love these women feel for their men?”
“Who can love a monster?” I replied.
“Many can. Hera loves Zeus, even after all the despicable things he has done. Amphitrite still places her trust and love in Poseidon. If gods are blind to the flaws of their loved ones, then what hope is there for mortals? Eleni loves Lycurgus. It is wrong, I know, but she does. She will not act against him. The same with Thalassa. She is besotted with Xanthus despite the way he treats her.”
Damaris did not speak in anger, only to show me a truth I could not control.
Despite the gossip spreading within the tannery, Phile did not discuss it with me. Our meetings were all as employer and employee until the day when I finally reminded her of my request.
“The leather that I asked you for,” I said as she handed me my coins for the day. “Have you managed to find me any scraps?”
“I have them here for you.” She lifted up a small parcel of folded pieces of leather; she had seemingly only been waiting for me to ask. “The largest piece is probably the length of my arm. All the other pieces are far smaller. I can get you more, but I would have to charge you for them.”
She handed me the small parcel, and I sorted the scraps, an image forming in my mind. “No, these will work perfectly. Thank you. You will let me know how much coin you need?”
“I do not need any. Not for these.”
I did not object. I needed all my money for something else.
“Would it work?” I asked him that same evening. I had sketched the design in my mind a hundred times as well as in the sand. I believed it would, in my limited knowledge, but I needed his opinion.
“It looks like a child’s weapon,” he said. “Not a hunting bow.”
“The shape must be changed.” I pointed to the sketch that I had scratched in the dirt. “I think adding a curve here will make all the difference. It will make the bow smaller while increasing the force, will it not?”
He hummed, moving around my sketch as if he were visualizing, then lifted his hands as if imagining it there in his grip, as I had done so many times. “Possibly, but it would take me some time to make it this way.”
“You could do this yourself?”
“I can. I have made my own bows since I was a child.”
I chuckled softly. I should have known Hirtus would not need to look elsewhere.
“Fine. If you make it, then I will pay you,” I said.
“Otrera, I do not even know if something this shape and size will work. At least not the way you envision.”
“Which is why it is important that I pay you. If you are going to waste your time when you could be doing something productive, then you should at least get paid for it. I have my savings with Phile, and you must believe me, there is nothing else on this earth that I wish to spend them on. Please. Do this for me.”
Hirtus looked me in the eye, and we understood each other. He saw that this was who I wished to become. Who I would become.
“It will have to wait until the spring,” he said. “I will not be able to make it before then.”
The leaves were abandoning the trees, and the icy claws of winter would soon be upon us. Spring felt as though it was still a full year away, yet waiting was my only option.
“Spring will be perfect,” I said.