Title:  Donjeta and the Sea -- Chapter Three -- Encounters 
at Pylos

Codes:  Ff, Mff, viol

Summary:  We put in at Pylos for supplies, and Donjeta has 
many chances at love.


*****


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."

Then he strutted to the door flourishing his weapons.  I 
stood, calling out.

"Thrasymedes, I will come with you!  Give me a spear!"


*****


When we arrived at the beach, they had grounded their ships,
pulling up and tying fast.  One-hundred-and-fifty men, tall 
and bearing spears, stood alert.  The vanguard of the 
Pylians stood against them, twenty-five at most.  I heard 
the gate of the town close behind us.

Thrasymedes and his two strongest strutted forth.  I 
followed beside them.  The leader of the invaders came out 
with his own small band, as if to parley.

It was Telemachus.  Of course it was Telemachus.

Thrasymedes spoke.

"Welcome friends to sandy Pylos.  What brings you here in 
force of arms?  Do you seek the aid of wise King Nestor, and
his good council?  Would you set your weapons aside and join
me, grasping hands in peace?"

"Friends?  Peace?  Such honeyed words, do they come from a 
forked tongue?  For -- friend -- I seek my wife, stolen from
me.  I've sailed hard on her heels for five days, praying to
steady Poseidon at every turn for just the mere sight of her
sail on the vague horizon."

He took a breath.  Thrasymedes stood tense.

"So -- friend -- I put in to great Pylos, home of Nestor, 
bosom friend of my father lost.  I beach my ships seeking 
water, and news -- maybe whispered on the wind by Zeus -- of
my lost wife.  And what do I find?  The ship.  The very ship
that stole her.  And what else?  Her!  Standing there, armed
and insolent, at your right hand!"

"Hi Telemachus."

"Donjeta!"


*****


Telemachus agreed to set aside his spear and appear before 
the king.  We stood there, he and I, shoulder to shoulder 
with the blazing hearth to our backs.  Thrasymedes stood at 
Nestor's side, the king in his heavy chair.  Ardys, 
Polycaste, and the remainder of the house watched from the 
wings.

"Nestor!  You were ever my father's friend, cunning 
Odysseus.  When that craven Paris spirited Helen away from 
her rightful husband, all of Greece marched to war -- you 
and my father too.  Nestor!  This is the same!  Donjeta is 
my wife, and this foreign captain has stolen her from me."

I responded.

"Stupid Telemachus!  I went of my own free will.  This 
captain has rendered me service -- true -- but he didn't 
steal me.  I fled from you."

"You went willingly?" the king asked.

"And eagerly.  I fled rocky Ithaca and a fate worse than 
death."

"King Nestor!  She is befuddled.  No doubt this captain is a
sorcerer, a wizard sputtering dark spells!  Give her to me.
I shall return her to hearth and home, and under the gentle 
care of my mother and her nurse, we will return dear Donjeta
to her right mind."

"I'm not befuddled.  My mind is quite clear."

"Idiocy!  What women dares to dress like that and carry a 
spear?"

There was a murmur.  Thrasymedes spoke.

"Telemachus, do you deny her lineage?  Do you deny she is a 
child of Antiope?  An Amazon princess?"

"I don't deny it."

"Then that explains her strange clothes and spear.  And 
more, it explains why she fled from you?"

There was silence.

"No!  Don't be offended good Telemachus.  No one doubts your
courage, but you're untested.  You've never fought in war.  
I pity you -- in a way -- born years too late, too young for
the great campaign where so many men were proved.  You speak
of Helen and Troy.  I left my brother on that field, 
Nestor's beloved son, cut down by Memnon on that bloody day.
No Telemachus -- I'm sorry for you -- but no man like you 
could win the heart of an Amazon."

Telemachus seethed.

"Give me a spear!  A sword!  I renounce my rights as guest.
I will have this man's life!"

It would prove an easy solution to my problem.  I had no 
doubt of the outcome were these two to fight, but King 
Nestor raised his gentle hand.

"Please be calm, Telemachus, for the sake of your father's 
good name.  If you must fight Thrasymedes, it will happen 
empty-handed in a sandy pit, wrestling to the first pin.  I 
will not lose another son to this sort of quarrel, nor will 
I let the only son of Odysseus die in my house."

The king turned to me.

"Donjeta, is there no way you will return with Telemachus?  
Were you indeed his wife?"

"He claimed me as wife, after he raped me."

There was a moment of silence, sort of hanging there for a 
bit.

"Accursed woman!  Vile deceitful woman!"

He reached to grab me, to strike me.  I stepped aside and 
threw him to the ground hard.  He tried to pop back up, but 
only staggered, careening into a table and sending a pitcher
of water into the fire.  There was a crackle and a gush of 
steam.

Thrasymedes laughed.  The king shouted, his voice becoming 
loud.

"Telemachus!  Donjeta!  Peace will reign in my hall.  Men, 
separate them!"

Two strong guards came from either side, one to Telemachus, 
now on his knees, grabbing him and pulling him to his feet, 
but keeping a strong grasp.  The other approached me.  I 
shot him a warning glance and reached for my knife.

"Good king, I am your guest and have loved your hospitality.
I adore your family, and you, but if this man lays a hand on
me, I will leave this hall a lake of bloody death!"

The man didn't lay a hand on me.

"Donjeta!  Be calm girl!"

Thrasymedes strutted over between the guard and me.

"Be calm.  I swear no harm will come to you in this house, 
not while blood flows in my veins.  And this Telemachus, we 
will give him gifts and send him on his way to chew on his 
disappointment however he will, but you are free -- 
beautiful and free -- Donjeta."

He paused.  Telemachus started to shout something, but 
Thrasymedes shot his man a look, and the prince's mouth was 
covered.  He only let out a gurgling sound.

"Take him from the hall.  Send word to his ships, that he is
here secured.  Two of them, with their full crew, must sail 
out immediately, past the breakers, and wait there.  Then we
will free the prince to sail away on the third.  Go with our
blessing, Telemachus, and do not return."

And so it was.  The prince was dragged from the hall.

"And now Donjeta -- beautiful Donjeta -- as a free girl, 
where do you sail to?  What do you plan to do?"

"I sail home, Thrasymedes, to the endless sky, the open 
steppe."

"Ah yes, I know the longing for home.  I felt it, those ten 
long years at Troy.  But Donjeta, you have another choice."

That was obvious.

"Stay here, girl, with me.  Be mine, my wife."

"That cannot be, Thrasymedes.  I'm sorry."

"What will it take, Donjeta?  You're young.  Your spirit is 
strong.  Do you crave war?  Power?  I'd make yours the 
wealth of Greece.  Pylos is strong, but that our armies 
stand down.  Let's raise them again, sharpen spears in 
bloody conquest!  Donjeta, let's fight, shoulder to 
shoulder, until the world bows to us."

Polycaste came over, standing near me, taking my hand.  She 
leaned into me, and I to her.

"Donjeta please.  We'd be sisters."

"Yes, my dear sister would be yours, so loving and kind.  I 
would be yours, strong, with armies at my back.  So, 
Donjeta, what do you most desire?"

"Beauty."

He got a curious look.  I thought it best not to mention 
Pallas Athena by name.

"Thrasymedes, you are noble and strong, and dear Polycaste, 
you are precious to me, but there is another, my true love.
Beautiful -- so beautiful, even your gods would admit.  She 
waits for me under the endless sky, and I go to her."

Thrasymedes peered at me.  Moments passed, and I saw a 
softening around his eyes -- acceptance.  He was a good man,
indeed, this Pylian prince.  His sister started to cry.  I 
held her and whispered sweet things.


*****


I gave them that evening, the three of us, together in a 
room lit by starlight and the barest shiver of a crescent 
moon.  Thrasymedes took me first, grabbing me and tossing me
on the bed.  He used his strength.  He was hard on me, but I
could take it.  He held me down, but didn't go further.

"Polycaste, my dear sister, take off her clothes."

He loosed me, just a bit, enough so Polycaste could remove 
my horsehide tunic.  She pulled it off slowly and kissed my 
cheek.  She stayed close to me.  He took a nipple in his 
mouth and sucked.

"Now, the leggings too."

He shifted his hips.  She removed them, giving my thighs 
sweet kisses.  He sat up and tore away his loose tunic, and 
in the moonlight I saw he was ready, but he didn't proceed.
He just sat there watching me.  I shifted my hips and 
spread.

"Please hurry."

He came forward and drove into me, not fast, but steady and 
hard.  I clutched him, pulling him close, feeling the slow 
rhythm and the heat of his flesh.  I thought of the churning
sea, and of ships pitching on the waves.  I thought of the 
moonlight reflected on the water, and what lies beneath.

He grunted three times.  I felt him pulse inside me, then 
the warm flow.  He rolled over gasping and twitching.

He was so much better than Telemachus.  I gazed at the 
shadowy ceiling and smiled.

Polycaste kissed my mouth.  She climbed on top of me, 
embracing me.  She gave me more kisses, and sweet words.  I 
lay still.  I touched her.

"Please sweet Polycaste.  Please."

She went down and ate, nuzzling in, moaning.  She learned 
quickly how to love, little Polycaste with her soft brown 
eyes.  A deep hunger drove her, I think.  She sucked hard, 
tasting me -- and her brother.


*****


We left sandy Pylos at the break of dawn, our crew pushing 
the ship back into the sea, rowing hard to break free of the
surf.  I stood astern, watching the long curved beach drift 
away and the two of them standing still.  They raised their 
arms in farewell.

"The prince lays in wait for us, Donjeta.  I'm sure of it."

"I expect so, good Captain."

The men pulled hard on their oars, and we drifted past the 
mouth of the harbor to the open sea.

"Can we outrun them in this ship?"

"Perhaps, if we have enough of a lead and we start downwind.
This ship presents a bigger sail.  A strong wind will shoot 
us away from them.  But they have more oars.  If caught 
upwind, or becalmed, we're done for."

So naturally, when the Ithacans came, they were downwind, 
and there wasn't much wind anyhow.  Three oar-swept hulls 
came over the vague horizon, rowing fast.  I stood next to 
Ardys and watched them come.

"There's a storm coming, Princess."

It was the plain truth.  Rushing from behind their ships was
a black, horrid storm.


*****


(To be continued ...)


*****


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