Encounters at Pylos

The north wind blew for days, filling our sails, sending our deep hulled ship scudding across the dark sea. I stayed aft, mostly, watching the vague horizon fall away and the dolphins play in our wake.

"Princess, we'll put in at Pylos to take on water and food. It's another day's fast sailing, I reckon, if the winds keep up."

"That'll be fine."

Ardys the Maeonian looked at me with his bald head and great beaked nose.

"You'll want to stay below, I think."

"Oh? I was looking forward to feeling the sand between my toes."

"I think we should avoid the Greeks -- getting a look at you."

"Why? I'm a free woman under your protection. The Greeks need know nothing more than that."

"Telemachus claims you as his wife. Nestor, King of Pylos, was his father's friend. The less they know of you the better."

"We race ahead of any news from Ithaca, my good captain. I will step on the shore."

He bowed his head.

"As you wish, Princess."

We put in to Pylos under gray skies, interrupting a ceremony on the beach. Our crew leapt forth, beaching the ship, throwing and tying the lines, pulling us onto the sand. The crowd of townspeople eyed us curiously, but kept their distance.

"Are you still determined, Princess? It isn't too late to duck down out of sight."

"Put out the plank."

I ran down and felt the firm earth, the sand in my toes. I even staggered a bit, accustomed to gently rocking sea. I smiled at Ardys, still on the deck of the ship.

A young girl ran toward me, maybe eight or nine, yelling and crying, from the direction of the Greeks. I stepped before her and squatted down.

"My dear, what's wrong?"

She ran right to me, and I caught her in my arms. A women -- I guessed her mother -- ran closely on her heels, calling out.

"Lysandra! Stay away from them!"

She caught up to her daughter, and me, shooting me a panicked glance. I let the girl go and gently pushed her toward her mom.

"Is she OK?" I asked.

She grabbed her daughter, turning her away from me. Ardys arrived and put his hand on my shoulder.

"My lady, we are peaceful traders from Ephesus. We'd speak to the lord of this land, or his agent of trade."

"Is the girl fine? Can I help?"

The mother gave me another look and seemed to calm down.

"She's just afraid of the blood."

I stood and looked over at the ceremony. I saw what she meant. Men with cruel axes had just split the skull of a bull. Its blood gushed freely, flowing down channels scraped into the sand. A murmur began to rise, a gentle chant to the cruel god of the sea.

Men began to stoke a large bonfire, while a separate group broke off and approached us. Their leader was tall with a hard face.

"Welcome to Pylos, strangers. We'd have your names."

"I am Ardys, called the Maeonian. We are peaceful traders sailing from Ephesus with goods from distant lands."

Ardys didn't draw attention to me, but it did no good.

"And her? She's no ordinary girl to have aboard a ship, dressed in hides and furs. Who are you girl?"

"I'm Donjeta, and now that you know us, who are you? This is the land of King Nestor. Are you one of his famous sons?"

I had no idea who Nestor's sons were, but it seemed wise to flatter this man. He responded.

"Indeed, I am King Nestor's son, Thrasymedes."

Ardys spoke.

"Ah Thrasymedes, I've heard your name. You fought on the fields of Troy, an honor to your father and brother both. Your courage is praised, even in distant Ephesus, even though we were allies of Troy. A man as great as you is beloved in any land."

Ardys was good at this. Thrasymedes looked pleased. He spoke.

"Come then, and be called friends and guests. Join our ceremony. Your being sailors makes this particularly meet. Burn the flesh and pour the wine -- to gain, if not the favor, at least the mercy of the great god Poseidon, master of the uncertain sea!"

Ardys nodded, then he scurried up to the Thrasymedes.

"My Prince, the girl is the squeamish sort. I'd rather she stay with the ship."

"Nonsense Ardys the Maeonian. If King Nestor discovered I'd let one so beautiful hide away, he'd have my hide. Bring her. Honor us. She shall be our guest."

And so it was.

When we approached, the thigh bones and offal had been cast on the flames, and thick smoke greeted us, strong with the stench of burning flesh. Logs for sitting had been laid in a wide circle around the fire, two rows deep. The townspeople gathered and sat. Thrasymedes took his place, beckoning to us from the front row near the flames. We sat next to him.

"So Donjeta, where are you from?"

"Thrace."

It was a vague answer, and not entirely true.

"Ah -- I fear I killed many a Thracian before the walls of Troy. I hope you lost no father or brothers."

He peered at me intently, waiting.

"My father and brothers returned safe from the war."

"Ah! I'm glad."

He stepped forward and splashed a bit of wine on the fire. It sizzled and steamed.

"Let's make libations for the valiant dead and to those who live on bearing their memory."

Ardys joined the others, leaning forward to pour out some wine. I did also.

"So, Donjeta, who is your father? From your beauty, I'd guess he was no common man. Are you the daughter of a king or chief?"

I couldn't possibly name a Thracian who'd fought at Troy. Ardys began to mumble something, some clever lie. I interrupted him.

"I'm not Thracian, and I have neither father nor brother who fought at Troy."

"Oh? Then who are you girl? We don't take well to lies. Speak!"

Still sitting, gazing into the fire, I spoke.

"Forgive the lie. I will tell you who I am. There is no shame in it, no shame at all. My aunt fought at Troy. Penthesilia, cut down by Achilles, I'm of her blood. I'm Donjeta, daughter of Queen Antiope, a child of the steppe, a horsewoman, a warrior maiden who worships bloody death -- a princess of the Amazons."

Everyone got quiet, 'specially Thrasymedes. He got that look in his eye.

They let me take a bath before meeting the king. When I entered the bathing chamber, a young beauty awaited. She had soft brown eyes.

"Hi. What's your name?"

"I'm Polycaste, the king's daughter."

"Oh? They sent a princess to bathe me?"

"As befits your rank, ma'am."

"Ah. Then call me Donjeta -- not ma'am. I'm pleased to meet you Polycaste."

She lowered her head. I went on.

"But see, Polycaste, I'm a horsewoman of the steppe. I ride on the wind and sleep beneath the open sky. I don't need help bathing."

"Oh."

Her eyes dropped. She backed away, as if to leave. I didn't want her to leave.

"Don't leave Polycaste. In fact, why don't you join me?"

She paused. Her eyes got big.

"Would you like that, sweet Polycaste?"

I took her hand, leading her to the basin.

"Yes ma'am -- I mean, yes Donjeta."

I helped her remove her tunic. Then, so tentatively, she helped me remove mine. We slipped into the warm water, leaning against the side, scooting next to each other, touching and smiling. Then the kissing began.

We met the king in his great hall; with its central fire, burning hot and bright; with its splendid frescoes, showing the undying gods -- their beauty close to real. My heart fluttered at the image of Pallas. She seemed to gaze at me, armored, with her thunderbolt and horrid shield. Thick columns held up wooden beams. A raised platform held a heavy chair. On it sat the king, old and stooped, clinging to his last wisps of strength.

"Welcome Donjeta, daughter of Antiope. Welcome to my home. Please feel welcome to my wine and weal. Sit. Eat. Draw comfort from the fire. Gaze upon the beauty of the hall. Meet my family. Take delight in them, as we will in you..."

He went on like that for a while, his voice lilting and soft. I shifted, trying to stay awake. Polycaste entered, shooting me a shy glance. She went to the king and gave him a kiss on the cheek.

"Father, can Donjeta and I have some wine and talk?"

"Yes, Polycaste. Donjeta, have you met Polycaste? Is she not a vision?"

"She is indeed, wise King Nestor."

Polycaste came to me and stood with me. She took my hand and leaned to me. The king gazed at us with an idle smile. We found chairs near to the king's, and sat. We each took a cup of wine.

Ardys entered with Thrasymedes. The king welcomed the captain with his somnolent voice. He spoke at length. I turned to Polycaste, tuning out his drone. She spoke.

"You met my brother on the beach?"

"Yes."

As if on cue, Thrasymedes drifted away from Ardys, leaving him to bear the full weight of Nestor's oration. He approached us.

"Polycaste, my sister. Donjeta."

He bent his head, his eyes fixed on me.

"Thrasymedes."

"I trust you enjoyed your bath."

"Yes, very much."

Polycaste smiled, blushing. She still held my hand.

"May I join you?"

He didn't wait. He took the seat next to mine and grabbed a cup of wine.

"Let's drink to your beauty, Donjeta, and your future happiness."

He raised his cup. It seemed odd to drink to my own beauty, but he was waiting, so I lifted mine. Polycaste held hers high, her face beaming.

"So Donjeta, how is it you ended up on an Ephesian ship?"

Even weighed down by age, even jabbering on, King Nestor's old ears heard.

"Thrasymedes, belay that! We do not question our guests. Now is the time for comfort and song. Let them eat their fill and drink our heady wine. Let sweet sleep come to them. Then tomorrow, we'll talk of serious things."

I smiled, glad I didn't need to explain myself -- yet.

A runner entered, breathing hard, grasping his side from a cramp.

"King Nestor! Ships sighted, three, long and black, crewed by strong men, bristling with spears! They row hard and will reach the shore before I can return, even running full tilt."

Thrasymedes shot from his seat, his cup of wine cast aside and clattering across the floor.

"With me men! To arms! Sentry, raise the alarm! I want two-hundred armed men to the shore right away!"

A shadow crossed the king's face, and he slumped down. His son strutted to the wall behind his chair and pulled down a sword and spear. He turned.

"Father, I will meet these men and learn their names, and what they mean coming in arms to sandy Pylos."