The famous teacher turned away. Continuing his examination of the jewel sitting on his palm, he indicated that the conversation was over.
“You have a long way to go to Anaxagoras and Antiphontus, Stagiritus!” Hesiona shouted, beside herself with anger. “You are simply jealous of Astiochus’ glory as the singer of peace and beauty. Peace and beauty are alien to you, philosopher, and you know it.”
Aristotle spun angrily toward her. One of his students stood nearby, and when he heard the conversation he slapped Hesiona across the face. She shrieked and leaped forward, wanting to attack the muscular, bearded offender, but Thais grabbed her by the hand.
“Scum, slave girl, how dare you?” the student exclaimed. “Get out, pornodions!”
“Philosophers are dropping all pretenses,” Thais said mischievously. “Let us depart from this abode of wisdom.”
With these words, Thais snatched the chrysolite from the dismayed Aristotle, picked up the hem of her himation and sprinted down the wide path between the pines, headed toward the main road and followed by Hesiona. Several men, either overly devoted students or servant, rushed after them. Thais and Hesiona hopped into the waiting carriage, but the boy driver didn’t have time to start the horses before they were grabbed by the bridle, and three huge middle-aged men dashed toward the open back of the carriage to drag both women out of it.
“You won’t escape, whores! We’ve got you, you sluts!” yelled a man with a broad, untrimmed beard as he reached for Thais.
Hesiona grabbed the whip from the driver and shoved the handle into the man’s wide open, screaming mouth as hard as she could. The attacker collapsed on the ground.
Thais, now free, opened her bag, which hung on the side of the carriage, and snatched a box of powder, which she tossed into another man’s eyes. A short delay didn’t give them much. The carriage could not move and they could not get out of it.
Matters were turning serious. There were no other travelers on the road, and the angry philosophers could easily overwhelm the helpless girls. The boy driver, who Thais had taken with her that day instead of her regular, elderly stableman, gazed around helplessly, not knowing what to do. He was trapped behind a wall of people.
But Aphrodite was merciful toward Thais. A thunder of wheels and hooves suddenly sounded from the road and a foursome of madly running horses, harnessed into a racing carriage, appeared from around the corner. They were driven by a woman whose golden hair flew in the wind like a cape: Egesikhora!
“Thais, malakion (little friend), hold on!” she cried.
Knowing the Spartan was about to do something incredible, Thais grabbed the side of the carriage and shouted to Hesiona to hold on with all her might. Egesikhora turned sharply without slowing down, circled Thais’ carriage and suddenly yanked the horses to the right, hooking her axle into that of Thais’ wheel. The bearded men holding the horses ran away screaming, trying to dodge the wheels and hooves. Someone rolled in the dust right under the horses’ feet and screamed in pain. Thais’ horses pulled forward, and Egesikhora, holding the foursome back with unwomanly force, unhooked the two undamaged carriages.
“Go! Don’t wait!” Thais shouted, smacking the boy firmly. The driver came to his senses, and the bay pair ran forth at full speed, followed by Egesikhora’s foursome.
Yells, curses and threats could be heard from within the clouds of dust billowing behind. Hesiona, feeling relief surge through her, started laughing hysterically until Thais yelled at the girl to stop. Thais’ nerves were not well after all her trials.
They passed the intersection, crossing the Akharna road before they knew it. Holding back their horses, they turned back and to the right, descending toward Ilissus, then riding along the river toward the gardens.
Only when they reached the shadow of the giant cypresses did Egesikhora stop and jump off the carriage. Thais ran toward her, pulled her into an embrace and kissed her.
“Wasn’t it a nice amatrochia? It’s very dangerous to hook the axles like that in a competition.”
Thais laughed. “You really are Kiniska’s heiress, Egesikhora. But how did you end up on the road, thank the gods?“
“I came for you so we could go riding, but you’d gone to Lyceum. It wasn’t difficult to figure out that you went to look for Hesiona’s father, and that worried me. You must remember that we cannot talk properly to the scholars, and they are not fond of hetaerae. Especially if the latter are beautiful and smart. In their opinion, the combination of these qualities in a woman is unnatural and dangerous,” the Spartan said, laughing out loud.
“How did you make it just in time?”
“I rode from the Lykean grove up into the mountains, stopped there with the horses, and asked my driver to stand at the turn and watch for you to pass. He ran back with the news that the philosophers were about to beat you up. I barely made it. I actually left him there on the road.”
“What are we going to do? We have to hide in order to avoid punishment. You have crippled my enemies.”
“I’ll go to Seven Bronzes, where Dioreus lives and let him watch my carriage. Then we’ll go swimming at our favorite spot. Tell your driver boy to follow me to the turn, then wait.”
Then the brave Spartan rushed off with her mad foursome.
The women swam and dove in a secluded lagoon until evening. It was the same lagoon where Ptolemy had landed two years prior, after having been thrown by the waves.
When they grew tired, Thais and Egesikhora stretched out on the sand, which was like a sheet of bronze on the floor of a temple. Pebbles rolled down from a rocky overhang, dipping underwater, screeching and chafing as they went. A lovely breeze touched their bodies, exhausted by heat. Hesiona sat at the edge of the water, hugging her knees and resting her chin on them. Thais heard her humming something quiet amidst the noise of the waves.
“The angry Stagiritus will file a complaint against you to the gineconomes,” Thais said. “He’ll never forgive us.”
“He doesn’t know me,” the Spartan teased. “But you did give him your name. Most likely, he’ll send a dozen of his students to destroy your house.”
“I’ll have to ask some friends to sleep in my garden. Or maybe hire two or three armed guards, perhaps. That would be simpler. I only have to find people who are brave enough,” Thais said thoughtfully. “I am a little sick of them, my Athenian friends.”
“I am not afraid of Stagiritus, even if they do find out who ran over the philosophers,” Egesikhora declared. ”I have already decided to sail to Egypt with the Spartans. That was what I wanted to tell you when we went riding earlier today.”
“Then why didn’t you say anything?” Thais sat up, then, realizing the ridiculousness of her reproach, burst out laughing. When she was calm again, she frowned.
“Then you are leaving me in Athens alone?”
“No. Why alone?” Egesikhora replied calmly. “You are coming with me.”
“I never said that.”
“Ah well. No matter. The Gods have decided. I went to a fortuneteller — the one whose name is not uttered, nor is that of the goddess he serves.”
Thais shuddered and paled, curling up her toes. “Why did you do that? Why?”
Egesikhora’s eyes were dark on Thais. “I cannot bear to part with you. Also, I had to give an answer to Eositeus Euriponidos.”
“Is he from the ancient line of Laconian kings?”
“Yes.”
“And what did he-who-can-see-forward say to you?”