Not till four days afterward did Phryne stop Eodan on the portico and
breathe: "I have made ready. Meet me in my chamber--do you know where
it is?--after sunset, and I will try to disguise you. Can you get
horses?"
His heart raced within him. He thought for a moment, standing under
fluted pillars with a green lawn and broad fields before him, standing
among thunders and drawn swords. At last he nodded. "There are
stableboys who sleep among the animals, but it will be simple enough
to frighten them, if I have any weapon. No one else will know until
morning."
"Then the gates of Tartarus will be opened!" Her eyes were huge and
her cheeks pale. "Let me see," she murmured. "I will have a sword for
you--I know where such tools are kept--and a couple of daggers as well.
You can overawe the boys, so they let themselves be bound and gagged
one by one. Drop a little word here or there, as if in carelessness, to
make them think you plan to flee into the mountains. That would be the
expected direction, anyhow, to reach Helvetia. Where did you think to
go, in truth, after Rome, Eodan?"
"I do not know," he said. "North, to some place where men are still
free. I do not know what the best way is."
"There is none," she told him. "They are all beset." Quickly,
leaning close so he could feel her breath upon his breast, swift and
frightened: "I am not so sure your best hope lies to the north. You
would have to cross too much Roman country. In the east or the south,
now.... But we can speak of that later. We dare not be seen lingering
like this. After dark, then--do not fail! I have contrived that the two
girls who sleep with me be out tonight. My supplies would be discovered
before another such chance came. So tonight!"
She went from him, almost running, the breeze fluttering her light
white gown about her. Eodan could not hold himself from staring. A
slave with the soul of a chief's daughter, he thought; surely some
Power had sent her across his path. He would have promised sacrifices
if he had known what Power it was, but the gods of this land were
unknown to him, and Cimberland's too far away to have heard about his
trouble.
Well--tonight!
He went on into the villa. It was hours till sundown; how would he live
through them without roaring his secret to the world? He would get
Cordelia's permission to go for a gallop. Yes, a good plan, thus he
could spy out his road of escape....
He found her in the peristyle. Her maids twittered and giggled, a plump
little scurrying bevy, wisps of cloth gay about a delicious roundedness
fore and aft. They were laying out towels, clean garments, the mistress
was pleased to swim in the pool. Cordelia stood aloof among them. As
she saw Eodan come between the pillars, she drew her half-discarded
stola about her. The dark Etruscan head lifted, and she said with an
unwonted chill, "What would you? Did you not hear the household was
forbidden to come here?"
"I beg pardon," said Eodan. "I was out--"
"Out! You have been out far too much. This is the place you are
supposed to guard. Where were you?"
Eodan thought back. On a certain morning he had made his vow to quit
this kept life. The next night she had still been exhausted, and he
slept in the guards' chamber. Since she had said nothing about it,
he had again slept with the guards the following darkness. The next
morning he offered the cattle overseer to help bring several beasts
of good stock from a neighboring plantation; they had not come back
till well after sundown, and he was tired and went directly to his
pallet.... Yes, by Fire itself, he had scarcely seen Cordelia in three
days!
"I am sure you knew my whereabouts, Mistress," he answered her. "If you
do not summon me to--to help you--." An uncontrollable giggling tinkled
around the sunlit space; Cordelia frowned and thinned her lips--"I
would not trouble you, Mistress," he finished.