Chapter Fifty-Two
I did not go to my home but headed to Phile’s, where a small council followed.
Some could not join us, such as Damaris and Thalassa, who were keeping guard.
I left Glykeria to be comforted by Dolos, sobbing over the body of her rapist son.
Still, there were several who joined us, including Iphinone and even Aina, no matter how much her mother tried to persuade her otherwise.
For my part, I was grateful. She deserved to be there more than anyone.
“Aina, if you feel strong enough, I would like to hear your voice on the matter. Where do you stand?” I asked.
Her eyes were bloodshot, and her throat cracked multiple times before she spoke, but when she did, her voice held the strength of a warrior.
“I do not want them in the village.” She dropped her mother’s hand as she spoke and looked each of us in the eye. “This place is a sanctuary. We made it a sanctuary, and we lived in peace. We have now seen that men have no place here. Not if we wish to keep women safe.”
Iphinone studied her daughter intently, her lips pressed tightly together before she spoke.
“Aina, I know what has happened to you, but think about what you say. These boys are your friends. It is not just your brother. He is old enough to deal with the separation, but what of the younger ones? Do you really want to cast them out?”
“No, nor do I want them to become rapists. Nor do I want them to follow in their father’s footsteps, as every man here seems doomed to do.”
“Surely killing Kakos was enough to make an example?” Kallista spoke. She attended our meetings regularly now and offered her voice as freely as any of the other women. “They must see that they cannot do such things.”
“We killed their fathers,” Althea reminded her. “If that was not enough of a deterrent, then what will be?”
A murmur of agreement rippled through the room, though I did not let it rise. Instead, I steered the conversation.
“It would fall on you, Hirtus, to raise these boys and men by yourself. And you will become what? A goatherd with them? That is very different from the life you have lived.”
He laughed a brief but genuine chuckle. “No, I will not become a goatherd. They will need to leave the flocks here. Most of them at least. I will teach them to live off the land. To hunt and respect the wisdom of Artemis and the gods.”
I did not hide my skepticism.
“What of the herds? They have been this village’s livelihood for decades.”
“They are Phile’s herds, and she will not need the coin in the afterlife.” He responded so calmly that a dull ache spread through me. “Slaughter as many as you need to leave yourself with only what is manageable—those that can graze on the land around here.”
It was now I who pressed my lips tightly together. His words made sense, but what I did not know was whether Hirtus was offering me a solution or a delay that would culminate in calamities even greater than those we had already suffered.
“This is what you wanted, Otrera.” Phile spoke for the first time since we had entered her home. “You women will run the village alone.”
“I do not doubt that we can run this village,” I said. “It is what will happen when all these young men are grown that I fear. Hirtus has no sons, yet he claims he will raise over two dozen by himself.”
“I will not be on my own,” Hirtus said. “These are boys, most of whom want to be good, Otrera, if they are not already. I believe you know there are some of the kindest souls in the world among them.” His eyes lingered on me as he spoke, as if he wished me to confess my earlier indiscretions.
Eventually, he spoke again. “There are other men I have met on my travels. Nomads who are not bound to a piece of land nor a family. Often they group together to hunt and share resources. They will aid me. I do not doubt it.”
I felt as though I were a bowstring, loaded with an arrow and pulled tight yet with no target. All the tension was there, ready to release, but would it strike straight through a heart or fall to the ground, limp and lifeless?
“I have heard your words,” I said, shifting away from Hirtus and addressing the group.
“My reaction at the pyre with Kakos was just. He deserved to die. But I do not want unnecessary bloodshed. That said, I will not stand aside and wait for others to be violated or killed because I was too weak to do what was right. Leave us now. I wish to speak to Phile and Hirtus alone.”
The group muttered as they slowly stood and edged toward the door. Several tried to catch my eye, but there was only one I wished to hear from.
“Aina, if you wish to stay, then please do.”
She forced her lips into a wavering smile that faded almost as quickly as it formed. I expected her to look at Iphinone, to seek her mother’s approval before she spoke, but her attention remained solely on me.
“Thank you, Otrera, but I wish for a bath and my bed. And whatever you choose, I will stand by you.”
I wrapped my arms around her, though as I pulled her into my chest, she flinched. A sharp throbbing settled in my chest. Releasing her, I watched as she and the others filed out.
When only the three of us remained, Hirtus moved to the amphora and poured us each a cup of wine. He handed one to me, and though I took it, I had no intention of drinking. Hirtus’s cup also remained untouched. Only Phile sipped before she spoke.
“You must understand, Otrera, this will never be a debate you can win. You will never have all women on your side. You may have swayed them to kill their husbands, but these are their sons. Children they carried in their wombs.”
“But you agree they should not be in the village?” I said.
She bit her lower lip, her eyes not quite meeting mine.
“When I leave, you will run this village alone, Otrera. If you do so with animosity and hatred toward the men, then that animosity will likely return.”
My nostrils flared with indignation. “You are saying I am to blame for what happened to Aina?”
“No, I am not. And do not be so churlish as to imply that I was. You are the one who will need to maintain harmony. If you cannot do that with the men here, then they must leave. And leaving with Hirtus is the wisest way to ensure they do not come back for revenge.”
Her smile was soft, yet I could not reciprocate. Instead, I shook my head.
“I do not like this. If these are your last days, then Hirtus should spend them here with you.”
“Or I can spend them with him, seeing his world, as he has seen mine for so long. I will think of it as my last adventure.”
I jerked upright, unsure I had heard her correctly.
“You would leave too? No, you cannot. This is your home.”
“Yes, I can.” She looked up at Hirtus. “Like he told you, our home is together. He has been saying for years now how he wishes me to travel with him. To sleep under the eyes of the gods, nestled in nature. And I have always refused, always putting the women first, always promising next year. But soon I will not be granted that luxury. If I do not take this chance now, it will never come. Perhaps the gods saw that. Perhaps that is why they intervened to bring me you.”
Tears built in my eyes. Tears that I could not swallow.
“What of your servants? Surely they cannot all survive such a life.” I thought of the older man whose right arm finished at his elbow. Not once had I seen him struggle with the demands of his employment in Phile’s house, but beyond here? Out hunting with Hirtus? I could not imagine.
“I will give them the choice. They can come with us or live out their days here with you. Assuming you do not see them as a risk?”
“Of course not.”
“Then it is decided. This home will become yours. These women yours fully.”
“But what if that is not what I want?”
As I stood there, with tears of my own selfishness and pride threatening to fall, Phile took my hands.
“Otrera, so much in this life is wrong. You have seen this, but I still believe in what you are building here. In what you can build. I believe in you, and I need you to believe in me too, this one last time. Please, trust me, child.”