“In order to become an outstanding hetaera, in addition to beauty and grace you must possess an outstanding memory, read in three dialects, love and know history, remember the foundations of philosophic teachings. Then you would be able to talk with poets and philosophers as an equal and elevate yourself above less educated men. And even that is not enough. You must have flawless taste in clothes, understand the art of sculpture and painting, perhaps even draw or sculpt yourself. You must be able to understand people’s character from the first glance, rule men without forcing them, and be a hostess of symposiums. You also must be an athlete in a sport in which you can compete with men. For instance, I am considered a good rider and an even better swimmer. I can hold my own against any man. I am not even talking about possessing the stamina of a Spartan, the wine tolerance of a barbarian, or the health of a Cretan bull.
“If you, possessing the beginnings of all of the above, go through the Corinth school from the age of six to thirteen, those years would be watered by the tears of insults, trials, hard work and punishment. If you completed that, then you would become a truly famous hetaera. That is, if you are fortunate. If you do not become sick, and if your beauty does not fade prematurely.”
Thais reclined in the wicker armchair and closed her eyes as if tired by the memories. Irana grew silent, snuggled up to her mother and said, “I understand, Mother. I do not wish to be a hetaera anymore.”
“You are clever and cautious, daughter of a king, famous for his careful wisdom. Go take a nap. It’s growing hot. And send your nanny over.”
As soon as the girl left, Thais jumped up and paced up and down the deck. Eris embraced her, being familiar with her friend’s moods.
“Nothing has happened, it’s just that the nanny is ready for marriage and tells the nonsense that fills her head to Irana.”
“I must not have spent enough time with my daughter, if…”
“Then it is your fault and not the nanny’s.” Eris smiled.
Thais stomped her foot and laughed. “You are right. But I’ll show her a hetaera’s glorious life.”
“Isn’t it a bit too late to flaunt your royal ire? This too is your fault, to be honest.”
“How is this my fault, oh goddess of justice?”
“You missed that the nanny is a grown woman. It is time, or else she will waste herself away in empty yearnings, and her firm breasts will sag without love. Whose fault is it? It is the fault of she who is older and wiser. She lives with you, and you must be a mother to her.”
“These educated girls from good families are nothing but trouble. They read too much.”
“She has probably read some of your own adventures. Many books have been written about Alexander and his associates.”
The nanny rushed in. She was a buxom girl with dreamy dark eyes and long eyelashes.
“Call Roykos! Tell him to bring a piece of rope.”
The old Thessalian showed up and looked at Thais expectantly.
“Undress!” the Athenian ordered the nanny, who stared at her mistress in amazement.
Eris, hiding a smile, tugged on the clasps of the girl’s chiton. Like a true Helenian, she wore nothing but outer clothing. Thais touched the girl’s breast, shook her head and asked, “Did you use the juice of cikuta? How long?”
“A year and seven months in Puanepsion,” the nanny mumbled.
“Crazy girl! You should have asked me. Now they will remain rock hard.”
“So be it,” the girl said boldly.
“Is the juice of cikuta that miraculous?” Eris inquired.
Thais nodded. “If one’s breasts are small it makes them grow and firms them up forever. But one must use strict moderation and our silly girl here has overdone it, I think.”
“Your fault again,” Eris said sternly. “A mistress must sometimes be a mother.”
“Yes, my fair friend, you are correct,” Thais said, critically examining the nanny’s voluptuous body.
“Majesty … Mistress … I do not know what …”
“Oh yes, you do,” Thais interrupted, trying to maintain the necessary sternness in her voice. “You are infatuated by love and want to be a hetaera, and fill my little girl’s head with your nonsense.”
“Mistress, I only told her what I’d read.”
“You lie. You have added your own fantasies as well. I shall fulfill them. Go to the sailors’ quarters as you are. You shall please them till the end of our voyage. This will be the start of your service to Aphrodite. The seamen are lonely for women. Their kisses are firm, their bodies are strong and their arms are tireless. What more can you wish for?”
“Majesty!”
“I forbade you to mention my title. Forget it.”
“Mistress, have mercy! I did not think … did not want …”
“You do not want to serve Aphrodite by giving your maidenhead to the ship’s crew? Then you must have confused my daughter out of malice. Your words were deceitful and you must be sacrificed to the Old Man of the Sea.”
Thais ordered the Thessalian with a discreet wink. “Roykos! Tie her arms and legs and toss her into the sea.”
“Uncle Roykos! You wouldn’t!” the girl screamed.
“Yes I will. Hold out your hands,” the old soldier replied, giving her a frightening grimace.
The girl fell at Thais’ feet, shaking and crying.
“Enough. Game over.” Thais suddenly laughed. “Get up. Now you shall think ten times before telling something to Irana.”
“Oh, Mistress, were you joking? You are not angry?”
“I am angry! But I cannot stand to torture you any longer. Or him,” she said, pointing at the corner of the deck where Roykos’ eldest son stood as pale as chalk, ready to rush to the rescue.
“May I go?” the girl asked as she leaned to pick up her chiton.
“Go! Here is something to remember.” Thais slapped the nanny’s behind so hard the imprints of her fingers flushed red on her skin, and the girl squealed.
Eris gave her another smack and a shove. The girl rushed to the quarters designated for women.
“Well, don’t just stand there,” Thais said to Roykos’ son. “Be a man. Go console her.”
The young man vanished in an instant.
“You struck her to tears,” Eris reproached.
“I don’t know about that,” Thais replied, blowing on her fingers. “What a sturdy girl. And now, my dear Eris, let us take care of you.”
“You rule today, oh lioness,” Eris joked, glancing at her friend with a touch of alarm.
“You shall be the one to turn into a lioness,” Thais promised and took her friend to her own quarters which had direct access to the bridge instead of the stern, as did the room designated for the other women.
“Stand in front of me and hold the mirror. No, not like that. Turn it toward yourself. Close your eyes.”
Eris obeyed, knowing Thais’ fondness for unexpected and amusing tricks.
Thais took out a carefully hidden box of ornate silver and uncovered a diadem in the shape of two snakes woven from green gold wire. The reptiles’ heads were broad, akin to the serpent at the Eridu temple. They crisscrossed and each held a sardonyx bead in its mouth, striped black and white. The Athenian placed the diadem on Eris’ head. It fit perfectly, which was not surprising considering it was made in three days by the best jewelers of Alexandria based on Thais’ design. Instead of a traditional diadem or stephane, the piece looked like the crown of an Ethiopian princess.