Thomas Harlan - The Gate of fire

"There are no other men on the island?" Shirin considered this and found it pleasing.

"No-nor have there ever been." Thyatis walked aft and stepped up onto a bench set behind the two steering oars. She sat, folding her legs under her. The Roman woman was clad in the dark green tunic, bronze greaves and arm-brace of one of the parthenos of the Order. A round straw hat hung at her back from a thong looped around her neck. Shirin came up to stand by her, but she leaned on the stern rail and looked out into the lagoon that lay behind the ship. The Khazar woman was wearing only a short cotton shift, bound at the waist with a belt of pale-brown leather, and her hair was braided back in a single thick ponytail. She had spent the day in the training circle, sparring with the other students. Her first examinations were coming up soon.

Herakles was nestled in a deep-mouthed sea cave that opened out onto the central lagoon of the island. Once, ages before, a cyst had formed in the flank of the ancient volcano. Over eons of time, the shell-like walls of the cavity had worn away until, at last, the sea spilled into the lagoon. In time, the Sisters had come and found the island and made it their home. Then the opening had been carefully widened and improved. Two quays of black basalt had been built out into the cave, providing mooring for the ships that plied the waters of the Mare Aegeum on the business of the sisterhood. This late in the day, the sun had already fallen behind the towering cliffs that ringed the lagoon, plunging the center of the island into a twilit gloom.

Still, from the back of the galley, Shirin could see the sky-fading to purple and deepest blue-reflecting in the quiet waters of the lagoon. Even here, in the cave, the sweet smell of the sea and the flower gardens of the hidden city reached her. The Princess marked the quiet that had settled upon them, rocking gently in this ship of war. So like Thira, she mused, filled with unexpected moments of solitude.

She turned, looking down upon her friend. Thyatis was sitting quietly, her legs crossed in the manner favored by the teacher Mikele, watching Shirin with troubled eyes.

"Oh, such a look you give me! Are you sad?" Shirin sat and took Thyatis' hand in her own.

"I will miss you," Thyatis said, her lips quirking down on one side. "I wonder if we will see each other again after I go."

One of Shirin's eyebrows crept up toward her rich dark hair. She frowned. "You had better return," she growled, squeezing Thyatis' hand. "I'm not going to spend the rest of my life cooped up on this island-as restful as it may be. Too, you and that mean uncle of mine have spirited my children away. I miss them terribly."

Thyatis smiled wryly and raised Shirin's hand-slim and dark-to her lips. "I know you miss the little ones," she said, "and all of us will be back together as soon as it is safe. As soon as I reach the Duchess I will find out if the Eastern Emperor is still hunting for you. If he has abandoned that stratagem, we will all go to Rome together."

Shirin cocked her head to one side and pointed with her chin. "They cannot come here? Wouldn't it be safer on the island? Rome must be a very hive of intrigue, even in times of peace. I know you hold this Duchess in great trust, but these are my children."

Thyatis laughed and brushed a tangle of curls over her shoulder. Shirin was half standing again, her eyes flashing in almost anger. "Pax! Pax! Your daughters could come, but Avrahan and little Sahul could not. We will meet Jusuf and Nikos and the others in Rome, then find someplace safe for you to raise them up."

"Perhaps," Shirin said, sitting down, her face serious. "Have you thought upon what we will do-being together, raising this family-beyond just these moments? Our time on this island? Escaping these troubles that now circle us around like dire wolves in winter?"

Thyatis' face blanked for a moment, her thought turned inward, but then her eyes cleared and she nodded slowly. "Yes, my love, I have thought on it." Thyatis took a small cedar box out of her blouse. It was a deep red and delicately carved with winding flowers and tree trunks. A copper clasp held it closed. She held it for a moment, looking at it, and then offered it to Shirin. "I once spoke with your cousin Dahvos about the customs of your fathers, while we were mewed up in an attic in Tauris. He said that among your people it is customary to give a parting gift to those you love, something to indicate you will return and that they are close to your heart while you are away."

Shirin took the little box and turned it over in her hand. Her deep brown eyes looked up, and Thyatis felt a little shock at her gaze. The Princess was smiling, the hidden smile that meant the most to Thyatis.

"Among my people," Thyatis continued, clasping her hands together nervously, "we have no matching tradition, or any way for a woman to express to another woman what she might feel. But here, on the island, there is the hand-fasting that one Sister may make to another. Such things are sealed with a token. This… this I brought for you out of the house of dreams, out of Ctesiphon. I saw it, and knew that it was meant for you."

Shirin opened the box and her eyes lit up and the cupid's bow of her mouth curved into a smile. She reached inside and drew out a fine golden chain. At the end of the chain, set into a simple curve of white gold, was a single perfect bloodred jewel the size of Thyatis' thumb.

"The Eye of Ormazd," Shirin breathed in delight. She held it up, and the jewel caught the light of the torches at the end of the quay, shining like a fallen star. Golden red light played on her face, highlighting her high cheekbones and the curve of her neck. "The rarest of jewels-the fire opal of the uttermost East. The wedding price of Shapur the Victorious to his lover, the Queen Yehana of Balkh. Carried out of fallen Amida by the warrior king in his greatest triumph. Worth a kingdom-"

"Worthy of an empress," Thyatis said, her hand tracing the line of Shirin's cheek. "Worthy of you, my love. This is my pledge: I will return to you, I will bring you to your children. I will stay by your side until the end of our days. Will you take it?"

Shirin's eyes glistened, and she settled the gold chain around her neck. The Eye nestled between her breasts, still glowing with captured firelight. It was warm to the touch. Under her fingers the surface of the jewel was as fine as silk. "I accept your gift and your promise, dear barbarian." Shirin's voice was thick with emotion. "I will wait for you to return, but heed me! If you do not come soon, I will come looking for you. Do not think that a pretty bauble like this will keep me locked away and content!"

Thyatis laughed, her face wry. "I would not dream that it would. If the winds are fair, I should be to Rome and back within six months. Can you wait that long?"

"Perhaps," Shirin said, looking away with an imperious mien. "I may become bored here on this island with nothing to do but train and think and meditate… I may go mad, too, if nothing exciting happens."

"Pray, beloved!" Thyatis raised a hand in a sign of warding against disaster. "Take the peace that comes with this blessed isle-do not seek out trouble or excitement! The Matron is getting along in years, and her heart may not bear up…"

Shirin laughed, her eyes shining, and tweaked Thyatis' nose. "You are a silly and beloved barbarian. I am a guest here and I will not dishonor the guest-right."

Smiling, Thyatis leaned close and Shirin met her lips.

After a time, they parted and sat in silence, listening to the waves lap against the quayside and echo from the high ceiling of the darkening sea cave.

– |"Back oars!" The steerswoman of Herakles had a voice like a bullhorn, echoing loudly in the sea cave. At the prow, Thyatis let go of Shirin's fingers and pressed fingertips to her lips. On the quay, Shirin stood up and returned the blown kiss. The galley, trim and riding even lower to the sea now that forty of the strongest parthenae on the island had taken their places on its rowing benches, slid backward as the leaf-shaped oars bit the water. Behind the Princess, the Matron and her attendants were gathered in a silent cluster. Herakles scudded out into the brightness of day, onto the glassy green surface of the lagoon. Thyatis stared into the dark entrance of the sea cave, momentarily blinded, and Shirin was gone.