pat
the creature on the head.
Artem's upper lip quirked into a grudging smile, and she knew she'd won his respect.
Since that day, Artem had been in her head. The idea of living by her own wits, as he did,
inflamed her imagination. It thrilled her when she caught sight of him in the street or at the
market. As the years passed, she began to think of him as attractive.
He was newly in her mind because she'd caught sight of him in the square not long ago.
And then, suddenly, he had appeared -- practically in her own backyard.
Her heart had leaped excitedly, so glad to see that although he was a thief, poaching a hare
on her father's land, he was not yet a slave. Now that he had appeared again this day, as
she'd hoped he would; she was determined to speak to him, to learn what his life was like.
At the seaward edge of the woods, she caught sight of him again, moving toward the gently
sloping, rocky shore. Reaching up for a branch, she hoisted herself onto it, shimmying out
onto the limb for a better view.
His bow was drawn and aimed. Looking skyward, she spotted his target. A fat gull
descended to the shoreline for its supper of fish.
His arrow whistled through the air and struck the bird
79
while it was still in flight. The gull plummeted from the sky into the ocean surf.
He disappeared from view as he ran to claim his prey. Curious, she crawled farther onto her
branch, straining to see where he'd gone.
Minutes passed as she waited for him to re-emerge.
He did not appear again, and she began to worry. Had Poseidon pulled him under ?
More time passed, and still he did not return.
She had pushed herself up to get a better view when something clamped on to her right
foot. Crying out in surprise, she tumbled from the tree, falling on top of Artem. The two of
them landed on the ground, the dead gull he held sliding into the leaves.
"Let me go!" she demanded.
He laughed and held tight.
Lunging onto his hand with both of hers, she struggled to pry his fingers loose. "Let go, I
say!" The pain in her right foot flared again. "Ow!" she shouted.
At this, he released her, jumping back. "Are you all right?"
"No! Oh, it's not your fault -- not all your fault, anyway. This cursed foot always gives me trouble!" She looked up at him sharply. "What did you do that for?"
"Spies should be prepared to be caught," he said lightly, getting to his feet.
80
"You're trespassing, you know," she said, merely to regain some dignity as she hopped to her feet. With her weight on her left, she smoothed her skirt.
"I have not poached on your father's land," he defended himself. "The gull was in the air and therefore belonged to any hunter."
"Yesterday you poached."
His eyes narrowed. "How long have you been watching me?"
She simply shrugged. "Long enough. You are Artem, the wild boy," she said.
He laughed with a bit of scorn. "So I'm called. Aren't you frightened that I might rip you to shreds and devour you?"
She shook her head. "I've seen you before. And I saw you in the town square not long ago.
You were listening to that old philosopher speak."
"Socrates. I could listen to that old man speak forever. Never have I heard words spoken
with such eloquence and such intelligence."
"You speak quite eloquently yourself," she pointed out. "Who taught you?"
"The sailors down at the docks, mostly."
"I've never heard sailors to be known for their eloquence," she commented.
This made him laugh. "No, you're right. I've learned words from them I would never repeat
in your presence. They can be a rough group. What I meant was that some of
81
them know how to read and write, and through the years one or another of them has
taught me. Once I could read, I taught myself by reading anything I could. And, as you say, I
love to listen to the philosophers in the square."
She pointed to a scroll tucked into the belt of his tunic. "Is that one of the things you read?"
she asked.
He pulled the scroll out and handed it to her,
the creature on the head.
Artem's upper lip quirked into a grudging smile, and she knew she'd won his respect.
Since that day, Artem had been in her head. The idea of living by her own wits, as he did,
inflamed her imagination. It thrilled her when she caught sight of him in the street or at the
market. As the years passed, she began to think of him as attractive.
He was newly in her mind because she'd caught sight of him in the square not long ago.
And then, suddenly, he had appeared -- practically in her own backyard.
Her heart had leaped excitedly, so glad to see that although he was a thief, poaching a hare
on her father's land, he was not yet a slave. Now that he had appeared again this day, as
she'd hoped he would; she was determined to speak to him, to learn what his life was like.
At the seaward edge of the woods, she caught sight of him again, moving toward the gently
sloping, rocky shore. Reaching up for a branch, she hoisted herself onto it, shimmying out
onto the limb for a better view.
His bow was drawn and aimed. Looking skyward, she spotted his target. A fat gull
descended to the shoreline for its supper of fish.
His arrow whistled through the air and struck the bird
79
while it was still in flight. The gull plummeted from the sky into the ocean surf.
He disappeared from view as he ran to claim his prey. Curious, she crawled farther onto her
branch, straining to see where he'd gone.
Minutes passed as she waited for him to re-emerge.
He did not appear again, and she began to worry. Had Poseidon pulled him under ?
More time passed, and still he did not return.
She had pushed herself up to get a better view when something clamped on to her right
foot. Crying out in surprise, she tumbled from the tree, falling on top of Artem. The two of
them landed on the ground, the dead gull he held sliding into the leaves.
"Let me go!" she demanded.
He laughed and held tight.
Lunging onto his hand with both of hers, she struggled to pry his fingers loose. "Let go, I
say!" The pain in her right foot flared again. "Ow!" she shouted.
At this, he released her, jumping back. "Are you all right?"
"No! Oh, it's not your fault -- not all your fault, anyway. This cursed foot always gives me trouble!" She looked up at him sharply. "What did you do that for?"
"Spies should be prepared to be caught," he said lightly, getting to his feet.
80
"You're trespassing, you know," she said, merely to regain some dignity as she hopped to her feet. With her weight on her left, she smoothed her skirt.
"I have not poached on your father's land," he defended himself. "The gull was in the air and therefore belonged to any hunter."
"Yesterday you poached."
His eyes narrowed. "How long have you been watching me?"
She simply shrugged. "Long enough. You are Artem, the wild boy," she said.
He laughed with a bit of scorn. "So I'm called. Aren't you frightened that I might rip you to shreds and devour you?"
She shook her head. "I've seen you before. And I saw you in the town square not long ago.
You were listening to that old philosopher speak."
"Socrates. I could listen to that old man speak forever. Never have I heard words spoken
with such eloquence and such intelligence."
"You speak quite eloquently yourself," she pointed out. "Who taught you?"
"The sailors down at the docks, mostly."
"I've never heard sailors to be known for their eloquence," she commented.
This made him laugh. "No, you're right. I've learned words from them I would never repeat
in your presence. They can be a rough group. What I meant was that some of
81
them know how to read and write, and through the years one or another of them has
taught me. Once I could read, I taught myself by reading anything I could. And, as you say, I
love to listen to the philosophers in the square."
She pointed to a scroll tucked into the belt of his tunic. "Is that one of the things you read?"
she asked.
He pulled the scroll out and handed it to her,
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