Chapter Fifty-Six
For the next four moons, life in Ninniya moved at such a pace I barely had a minute to rest.
As she had requested, I took up residence in Phile’s home, and while Damaris and her young children came with me, Althea remained with Thalassa in my old house. From dawn to dusk, we worked, no longer to earn our wages but to ensure our own survival.
Our roles changed according to the weather and our needs and what we had learned from one another. Soon there was not a woman in the village who could not mend a crack in a clay pot or weave a simple blanket, while several joined Aina in learning to shoot.
“We need more bows,” Aina said to me one evening as she was waiting for her next turn. Hirtus had left two in his home—one for Damaris, the other to be used at my discretion. But they were both full-size and heavy. As such, I had to loan out my smaller weapon.
“We do,” I said. “I was considering heading to one of the agoras next moon. I might be able to trade some silver from Phile’s house for another few, but they are likely to be too large.
Hirtus made the small one specifically to my design.
Not to mention the presence of a woman buying weapons is likely to draw undesirable attention.
” I tried to make the last remark as casually as possible, though it was a thought that hung as a constant and heavy weight around my neck.
We needed to be self-sufficient, to keep our existence secret from those who would punish us for desiring our own survival.
“Could we not make them ourselves?” Aina continued. “We can chop wood and whittle too. Why can we not make bows?”
I tried not to sound discouraging. “It is a skill, Aina. One that took Hirtus years to learn. I don’t think it will be so simple.”
“I think I will manage,” she responded.
I should have known not to underestimate a girl who could tame wild animals. It took nearly two moons, but when she walked into the courtyard one evening, her smile was more luminous than the sun behind her.
“I will make the next one far more quickly,” she said before firing an arrow from her homemade bow with a near-perfect shot.
Every minute she was not with Myrina, she had been teaching herself to make weapons.
Soon she knew exactly what pieces of wood would curve and bend without snapping.
She learned to file down goat’s horn to reinforce the inside curves and stretched sinew over the outer edges, the way Hirtus had done.
All the pieces were held in place with a glue of her own recipe, created from the boiled bones left from our feasts.
Previous attempts at the mixture could be found in numerous pots and pans around the village.
Aina also remained true to her promise of teaching me to ride.
While I could not escape every day as she did, I made a point not to miss two consecutive days, even if I could only manage the briefest ride before sunset.
Long before Aina had mastered her bows, I no longer needed her aid to mount or dismount, and Erebus rarely attempted to buck me off.
My hours on Erebus were my hours of freedom, when I felt as close to the gods as Icarus when he flapped his wings and soared toward the sun.
When I was alone, I would think of Phile.
I would wonder if she was still with Hirtus, traveling with the young men, or whether she had already stood before the judges in the underworld.
Occasionally, when Damaris and her children slept, I would offer a prayer to Hades.
In such moments, I prayed that he would don his helm and walk down our paths to see the peace she had created.
She deserved a place in Elysium, just as I deserved one in Tartarus.
Sometimes, when the hour was late and I could not find sleep, I thought about Cleon. About those brief minutes when his lips had pressed against mine. I thought too of his offer to make me a wife when he returned, but I did not dwell upon such musings.
By the time the summer had begun to fade and the verdant leaves were replaced with translucent skeletons warning of winter, we were prepared for the cold days that would follow.
It would be a winter unlike any we had ever known.
A winter where we let our bodies slow and our minds rest from the toil of the previous moons.
That was what we assumed would happen. But then the women arrived, and our entire lives were to change once again.