‘It does not have to be so,’ he said after some thought. ‘You could run from this place, and disappear. Return to Sparta or make a life elsewhere.’
Lysandra was taken aback. ‘That would be a dereliction of duty,’ she retorted.
‘A duty to whom, Lysandra? To Balbus, your owner?’
‘To those people out there.’ She gestured towards the doorway.
‘The people who come here to hear me. The people that take pride in what I do in the arena. And to Athene herself. Did you not say that to fight for the goddess was my true path?’
Telemachus flushed. ‘Yes, but that was before I had come to know you. Then, you were just another arena slave to me and Balbus paid me well to speak to you, to encourage you in your hour of need.’
Lysandra was silent for a moment. ‘I did not know that you had been paid to be my friend,’ she said, unsure of how she felt about it.
‘I was not paid to be your friend, money cannot buy that,’ he said at once and in her heart Lysandra was relieved. She would have felt a terrible sense of betrayal if one of the few people she felt she could trust had been revealed as false. ‘Balbus is not a cruel man, Lysandra, but he trades in people’s lives,’ the priest continued. ‘There is an ambiguity in all of us when it comes to slaves. There must be slavery, after all, yet it is difficult to look at you as a slave now that we have spent time together and become friends.’ He sighed. ‘I would not wish to see you die in the arena.’
‘Have no fear,’ Lysandra said. ‘There is little possibility of that happening. I am extremely skilled and, though your first words to me may have been bought, they rang true for me. You were right in many things,’ she hesitated, ‘and as such, I do not judge you harshly. Furthermore, I am slave only in legal terms. When thousands of people scream your name, it is difficult to perceive oneself as subservient.’
Telemachus smiled at her, a little sadly, she thought. ‘Balbus has been writing to me, enquiring as to your health and state of mind,’ he said. ‘Till now, I have put him off, yet I can see that you are healed in body and spirit.’
‘That is so, Telemachus.’ Lysandra nodded. ‘I would return to my rightful place.’
‘I will miss you.’
He was being honest and this pleased her. ‘You make it sound as if you will not see me again,’ she responded brusquely. ‘I am not a prisoner in the ludus, Telemachus, and you may visit me when it suits you. It may be that I will be allowed out alone as I have shown myself trustworthy in your care.’ She grinned at him. ‘In that I did not flee and start a new life for myself.’
‘You will stay till he responds to me?’
‘Of course. The people must know that I am to depart. I would feel as though I had betrayed them if I just upped and left.’
‘You’re most considerate,’ he mocked gently.
‘And you are most disappointed,’ she countered. ‘Your coffers will no longer be as full after my departure. Evidence, if it was ever needed, of the superiority of Spartan religious doctrine.’
‘We all enjoy an oration on self-sacrifice and discipline, Priestess,’
Telemachus said, his face solemn. ‘I prefer some largesse in my themes, however. Perhaps, outside of Sparta, your thematic content might be considered dull, boring, and perhaps even pompous.’
Lysandra sat upright, her eyes dancing with mirth. ‘Pompous!
I? Do not be absurd, Athenian. Pomposity is not the province of Spartans; it is rather an art form perfected by the effete democracy of Athens.’
Telemachus laughed then, and she joined him. It was some time since she had indulged herself thus and she enjoyed the moment’s lack of decorum. ‘Come.’ The priest stood. ‘We should share a few drinks in the town tonight.’
‘Yes,’ Lysandra agreed. ‘That would be most pleasant.’
XXXVIII
It was Catuvolcos who came for her. She could tell he was nervous, shifting from foot to foot, unwilling to meet her gaze. And well he might feel uncomfortable, Lysandra decided.
He had acted abominably towards her and that he felt guilty at her suffering was just reward.
She was inwardly delighted at the turnout for her departure.
The expatriate community had gathered in force, wishing her well and bringing many gifts for her to take back to the ludus.
Some were practical, others not so but she received all the offerings with good grace and had Catuvolcos load them onto the low-backed wagon in which they were to travel.
Telemachus was somewhat misty-eyed at their parting, embracing her warmly and promising that he would visit her soon. She hoped he would. In truth, she was most grateful to the priest for his help and his friendship. It had been twice now that the man had aided her: admittedly the first time for pay, but the second was out of genuine concern for her welfare. Whilst she could not look upon him as any sort of father figure, she did feel as though she had an older brother living in Halicarnassus.
The farewells said, and to the sound of her name being hailed loudly by the Hellenes, the wagon began to wind its way through the city’s narrow streets. Catuvolcos looked uncomfortable in the extreme and Lysandra found herself taking a vindictive pleasure in this. Certainly, she made no effort to speak to him, apart from perfunctory necessities. This was of no concern to her. She knew she could be loquacious if the occasion demanded it, but Spartans were famed for the sparse use of words. Besides which, she doubted if Catuvolcos could give her anything in the way of intelligent conversation.
She was sure her time in the company of her fellow Hellenes may have spoiled her somewhat. Even if Telemachus was an Athenian, her discourse with him had been much more interesting than the banter of the ludus.
Some hours into their journey, with Halicarnassus retreating into the distance, Catuvolcos broke the stony silence.
‘I wanted to apologise,’ he said. ‘I was wrong.’
Lysandra turned to face him. ‘Yes,’ she said at length. ‘You were.’
There was no point in being magnanimous. Catuvolcos deserved to squirm. She remained silent, fixing him with a cold eye.
The trainer cleared his throat. ‘I shouldn’t have acted towards you in such a way after our… talk. I should have taken what you said at your word. But I was hurt by your refusal, though I can see now that you were right in what you said.’
‘Better if you had listened to me in the first place,’ Lysandra agreed. ‘I did not intend to hurt your feelings, of course.’
‘I know that now.’ He shrugged. ‘I was not thinking clearly at the time.’
‘Obviously,’ Lysandra saw him flush and decided to relent, perhaps a little earlier than she had originally intended. ‘But it is past. I hope we can put the incident behind us.’
Catuvolcos looked somewhat relieved and smiled at her, if somewhat tentatively. ‘How have you been after… after what happened?’
Lysandra looked away, her eyes on the arid landscape. ‘Angry,’ she said after some thought. ‘I continue to feel a sense of helplessness that is foreign to me: that I was powerless to prevent them from doing what they did. They have not been caught, then?’ She looked back at him.
‘No. Though every effort was made.’
‘I’m sure,’ Lysandra snorted. Catuvolcos seemed that he was about to protest, and she waved this away. ‘It does not matter.
Again, this is past, and the goddess will decide whether I am to be vindicated. How are things at the ludus?’ she asked, changing the subject abruptly, not wishing to dwell on her lack of ability to deal with Nastasen.
‘The same, but different. Your friends have been moved to the bigger houses now, as Balbus promised. Of course, he takes a maintenance cut from their profits, but they earn more from each bout as their ranking has increased. They seem happy enough.’
‘And Sorina?’ Lysandra arched a quizzical eyebrow.
‘She trains harder than ever,’ Catuvolcos said. ‘I have heard about your challenge.’