Endymion's Wake

III. Peplos

Peplos | Cassandra

Alone at her loom, she had time to think. Fifteen other women were supposed to help weave the peplos for Hera, but they couldn't be trusted to deliver a garment worthy of the Queen of Heaven. Cassandra thought of herself as a modern Arachne, but she knew too well not to let those thoughts touch her lips. The purple and gold garment was sure to be the finest presented to Hera at the festival in many generations, perhaps since Hippodamia.

As the wool passed through the warps for the three-hundredth time this morning, Cassandra heard a voice outside the temple. Soon the strumming of a lyre accompanied the sweet song. She loved traveling poets; men wandering the countryside, singing of the wonders and follies of gods and men. A freedom no woman would ever know.

Reaching a stopping point, she stepped out of the Temple of Hera to catch a glimpse of the bard. A short man, who looked to be a few years older than her, stood holding a tattered lyre near the Pelopion walls. She listened, hiding behind a column, as he sang of Pelops' trick to win the hand of Hippodamia in a chariot race against her father, King Oenomaus. Passersby barely acknowledged the song, but he didn't seem to mind. Towards the end of his poem, Cassandra's heart tingled, it felt like he was performing for her and her alone. She smiled to herself as he finished, strumming his lyre idly. Then he looked up and smiled at her. His warm eyes pierced her through his cascading brown curls.

"Well done, bard," said Cassandra stepping out from behind the column. "A lovely tale sung by a sweet voice."

"You flatter me, priestess," said the young man with a small bow.

"I'm no priestess, not yet at least," said Cassandra as she stepped through the hedge separating the Temple of Hera and the Pelopion.

"Still, you flatter me nonetheless, miss."

"I'm not the only flatterer. Towards the end, I was beginning to think I was Hippodamia, your description of her seemed...familiar."

"A beautiful girl from Olympia with hair of gold and intimidating eyes," recited the bard.

"Yes, but what about Hippodamia?" replied Cassandra with a sly smile. The young poet snorted a laugh and reached out his hand.

"Pendius, a pleasure to meet you."

"Cassandra," she said accepting his hand.

"Care for a walk?" he asked with her hand lingering in his.

The Sacred Road crunched beneath their sandals. Every dozen or so steps the crunching of the pebbles would synchronize then slowly fall out of rhythm before coming together again. Cassandra noticed Pendius smiled at their feet when it happened.

For several minutes they didn't speak, only their steps broke the silence. She kept brushing her hand against his as they walked, hoping he would hold it again. When he didn't on her fifth attempt, she decided to do it herself. He looked at her in amusement as she latched their fingers.

"I was hoping you were going to hold my hand. I noticed you were trying to work up the courage."

"I am terribly shy," she said as their steps again crunched in unison, "so it must have been the work of Eros."

Pendius gave a devious grin and squeezed her hand in his, "I thought as much. I believe he also inspired you to tell me about yourself."

"I live here in Olympia and work in Hera's temple. I enjoy music and weaving. Not much to tell."

"Oh, come on now. A beautiful woman like you? There has to be more."

"Later this week, I'll be one of the sixteen women who will present the peplos in Hera's honor. I think it will be the best one dedicated in this kingdom."

He nodded as she spoke, but concentrated on the horizon ahead of them.

"You've done it all yourself?"

"Well there's sixteen of us."

"Nothing made by sixteen sets of hands could possibly warrant that much confidence. Sixteen perspectives on a single garment would look ludicrous," said Pendius.

She nodded, "I may have done a few more rows than the others."

"Spoken like a politician. Is your father Athenian?" Laughed Pendius, but Cassandra looked at her feet. "I didn't mean to insult your father. Athens is a beautiful city."

"He wasn't Athenian," whispered Cassandra.

"My condolences for your loss."

She nodded kindly, but steered their conversation towards him and his travels. He'd mostly walked the Peloponnese - Corinth was his favorite; where his family is from - Thebes; and why he left home - his family was too poor to feed all of his siblings so he ran away. Cassandra knew of poverty, people came to the temples begging for food, but she couldn't fathom running away to ensure your family could eat.

Towards the end of their walk, after nearly circling the city twice, Cassandra ushered him through the main road towards the Temple of Hera. She needed to finish the last few rows of her peplos. The ease of conversation with Pendius was so refreshing, she almost didn't notice her brother, coming out of the hippodromos gates a stones throw away. She rarely saw him out of the palace or temple grounds, let alone without Emilios. Who is that boy? she wondered. I didn't know he had any friends.

Pendius noticed her distraction and asked her who the two boys were. She grabbed him by the arm and pulled him against a storage building.

"That's my brother with the tall boy," she whispered, "I've never seen him with a friend."

They watched in silence as the tall boy wrapped his arms around Chrysanthos in a huge hug and lifted him off the ground. Cassandra's face drew serious when she saw the look on Chrysanthos' face. He looked like he'd had too much wine.

"Looks like more than a friend," muttered Pendius with a chuckled.

"Oh, shut it!" she said hitting Pendius' shoulder. "He needs to be careful. You never know people's motives."

"Well your one to talk," laughed Pendius. "We met only hours ago."

Cassandra pulled back and furrowed her brow. "That's different. I'm older and leaving soon."

She peaked around the building and watched as the boys parted ways, then turned towards each other again to talk before parting for good. The tall boy was walking towards them. He wore the biggest dimpled grin she'd ever seen. She shoved Pendius flat against the wall and hid her face beside his as the boy walked passed. After he was gone, she pushed Pendius back onto the road.

"Won't people talk seeing you pull a strange man out of an alley?" asked Pendius.

"I'm invisible to these people. One of the joys of being a woman," she replied, voice full of irritation.

They walked silently to the entrance of the Temple of Hera.

"I should go," said Cassandra at last.

Pendius nodded, "Me too. But I want you to know you're not invisible. I see you."

Cassandra smirked, "Even through those long curls?"

Pendius chuckled. "I must go. The people of Olympia are calling out for songs of their heroes."

"Go," replied Cassandra, pushing him down the street. "Put them out of their misery!"