Gary Corby - The Ionia Sanction

It was bad enough I had her in the same room, though that was obviously necessary for her own safety, but any father would kill me for this.

A tear trickled down her face.

I sighed. “You’ll have to squeeze in the side.”

She dived into my bed before I’d finished the sentence.

I walked over to find there was barely any room for me.

“Move over.”

She wriggled to the far edge and I pushed my way in.

“But I warn you, if I can’t sleep, out you go.”

I was in bed with the wrong woman.

I lay back and tried to pretend there wasn’t a girl sleeping below my armpit. I could feel her move against me as she made herself comfortable.

Asia was of marriageable age, and she was well developed for it too. I had the natural reaction any man would with a young woman wriggling beside him. I reminded myself of the words I’d used to Socrates: she was a virgin when I found her, she’d better still be a virgin when I returned her to Themistocles. At last she settled down and I could close my eyes and go back to sleep.

I rolled over to put my back to her and thought of Diotima.

Sex was a problem. Of course, a woman couldn’t afford to lose her virginity if she expected a good marriage, I understood that. Fathers had been known to kill men for deflowering their daughters, and afterward the courts approved the killing. Jurors are men with daughters too.

It made sense Diotima had refused to have sex. Perfectly normal. Very frustrating.

“Master?”

I opened my eyes. “What is it, Asia?”

“Why did you buy me?”

“I’m returning you to your father.”

“Why?” she persisted.

To find out why she had arrived in Athens with a murderer. To uncover a secret which killed a man. To spy on her father.

I said, “It’s partly a goodwill gesture. Your father is still well respected by many in Athens, and you are, technically, a citizen of Athens. The Athenians would not allow one of their own to be a slave without reason; there’s a law against it. The best thing to do is return you.”

“Are you going to invite Father back to Athens?”

“No.”

“He wants to go home, more than anything. I know he does.”

“That’s not for me to decide. The Ecclesia and the courts are in charge.”

“Father will reward you for bringing me back.”

“That’s nice.”

“What reward will you ask for?”

My job back with Pericles? A position among the leaders of Athens? My marriage? Themistocles had nothing I wanted.

“I haven’t thought about it.”

“You should. Father’s sure to ask. I’m his favorite daughter.”

“Fine, I’ll think about it in the morning.” I closed my eyes.

“Master?”

I opened my eyes. “What is it now?” I droned.

“When are we leaving for Magnesia?”

“I have some things to do here first. I’ll know more in the morning. ”

“Master, will you-”

“Asia!”

“Yes, master?”

“Shut up and go to sleep.”

“Yes, master.”

* * *

I woke next morning to find Asia had somehow migrated to the other end of the bed and was curled up, peaceful and asleep against my legs. I didn’t want to wake her so I lay thinking.

Here I was, outside Athens for the first time in my life, and not only in a new city, but inside the Persian Empire. Granted, Ephesus was as close to being independent as you could get and still make obeisance to the Great King, but in no free Hellene city could I come face-to-face with Persian soldiers, like I had the day before.

Anything was possible, even the success of my mission, even the saving of my career, even a new beginning. Perhaps a new beginning to everything. I had to find Diotima and talk to her. Things had gone wrong between us, horribly wrong. Today was the day I would put them right.

I meant to mention this to Asia that morning, as we sat at the bench eating our breakfast of stale bread soaked in a little wine, but I didn’t because although I knew in a general way what I wanted to say when I found Diotima, I hadn’t quite worked out the precise words. I rehearsed the conversation over and over in my mind, but it never sounded as good as I expected. I gave myself a little more time by telling Asia we would spend the morning investigating.

She shrugged and said, “I thought you wanted to find this woman?”

“We will, later this afternoon for sure.”

We walked down the road to find Pollion, the brother-in-law of Thorion, whom I guessed would be at the commercial agora. We were coming down Marble Road when walking uphill I saw the one and only person I expected to recognize in Ephesus: the long, dark, curly hair, the confident walk, the pretty face with the thin nose and the full lips, and the pleasing way her dress stretched across her breasts. Diotima was about to turn the bend in the road; any moment now she would see me standing in the road.

Well, that was all right, wasn’t it? After all, I’d resolved to talk to Diotima some time today. All I needed was a prepared speech. Then I looked down at Asia who stood beside me, and I thought back to the words of Socrates. “I wouldn’t want to be in your place when Diotima sees her!”

Perhaps this wasn’t the right time to talk to Diotima.

Yes, that’s what I’d do. I would let Diotima pass by, and approach her when I didn’t have Asia with me, when I’d decided what to say. But where to go?

Behind us lay the commercial agora, with nowhere to hide. Other than that there was only the wide open theater. On the lower side of the road was what looked like a large private residence. On the uphill side, a low building stood, into which I had seen others pass; obviously a public building of some sort.

“Quick, come this way.”

I grabbed Asia by her left arm and dragged her up the steps.

Asia protested. “What are you doing?”

“Shut up and do as I say.”

We passed through the open gates into a small courtyard, open to the street, in the middle of which sat a water well. The stonework and the flowering vines twined around it to provide fragrant aroma were a thing of beauty, but I didn’t stop to admire. Diotima would see us as she passed, and I hadn’t yet decided what I’d say to her. A door exited the courtyard to our right. I didn’t hesitate. I slammed it shut the moment I’d pulled Asia inside.

I stood there, panting from the sudden fright. There was a shutter in the door. I opened it and peered out.

“If you like this girl so much, why are we hiding from her?” Asia asked loudly.

“Shh!”

“I’m sorry. We don’t permit clients to bring their own women.” It was a rich, vibrant, sultry voice.

I whirled about to find a lady standing behind us. She was dressed in … not very much. Her face was painted and her red hair flowed in ringlets down to her bosom, which was exposed.

We had come to a brothel.

“My apologies, er, lady. I only want to stay for a few moments.”

“That’s what they all say, dear, but they pay all the same.”

“No, you don’t understand. I-”

“He’s hiding from his girlfriend,” said Asia.

“She’s not my girlfriend,” I said quickly.

But the lady had only one interest. “You haven’t come for our services?”

“No, I said it was an accident.”

“Well, you can’t stay here. Out.”

“But-”

“I don’t care. Heracles!”

Heracles was well-named. He was a hulking great man in Persian dress. He was at least a hand’s width taller than me and wide, so wide he almost waddled. There was almost no hair on him, no sign of a beard. His facial skin was as smooth as a woman’s. I suspected I’d met a eunuch for the first time, but I was not tempted to lift his tunic and see.