A garden of violets

Egypt, 3rd century

Upper-Egypt, 282

The streets of Lycopolis were eerily quiet. Sarapias wrapped her cloak tighter around herself, a protection against the chilly night air. As she left her home and ventured into the streets she made sure to stay in the shadow of the houses. As bustling and friendly as the city could appear during the day, it was not prudent to stand out at night. Criminal gangs or drunkards looking for trouble could be around every corner. And on top of that there were the potential supernatural dangers, the spirits of the dead and great black demons in the shape of owls prowling the night. The amulet of Isis around Sarapias's neck and the dagger in her belt held some comfort, but that didn't mean she had to invite danger.

Luckily, the only things that bothered her on her journey were two agitated dogs and they soon ran off to chase a passing cat. So, with only the sound of her own feet to keep her company, there was nothing to do but think on what had brought her out so late at night.

It had started two months ago, when she had gone to the market to buy food. Normally her slave Helen took care of the task, but one of the merchants owed her money and she'd wanted to have a word with him about it. If she was already going out there, she'd reasoned, she might as well take care of the groceries while she was there.

Nothing out of the ordinary had happened at the market until Sarapias had reached the stall of a fishmonger. She had just picked out a fish to buy when she saw her.

She was a young woman, younger than Sarapias, though probably not by more than ten years, with strong arms from carrying fish around, beautiful long dreadlocks and an easy-going smile. For some reason Sarapias had felt compelled to stay and talk some more with the woman. The market was busy of course, so there was little time for small talk, but Sarapias did learn that the woman was called Thermoutharin and that she and her father had moved into the city from their home town further up the Nile. Despite the short interaction, something in her had made Sarapias eager to see Thermoutharin again.

Over the next weeks, Helen had had her duties drastically cut as Sarapias had taken every opportunity to go to the market, and especially to the fishmonger's. She reckoned she'd eaten more fish in those few weeks than ever before. Every time she had managed to make some smalltalk with Thermoutharin, she hand found herself liking the other woman just a bit more. It had seemed like Thermoutharin appreciated her visits too. Sarapias had gotten the impression that Thermoutharin had started treating her with more friendliness than she usually gave customers at least. She had even managed to have a few longer meetings outside of the market with her, in taverns or at her home.

Up till then, Sarapias had thought it was just normal friendship. Sure, her feelings for Thermoutharin were stronger than those she had for any of the other women she counted among her friends, but that was normal wasn't it? Sometimes people just naturally got along better. But one day they had visited the bathhouse together and Sarapias had caught herself admiring her friend's body in a way she had certainly never done with other women. To make matters worse, that night she'd had a dream where she and Thermoutharin were doing things that female friends were very much not supposed to do with each other.

Confused, Sarapias had sought the help of a dream interpreter and he had been very clear. Dreams that involved unnatural sex acts were a bad omen and that she was likely to meet with a bad end. She had left the interpreter's house concerned and jumpy, doing her best to avoid the routes back home that could be dangerous due to construction or seedy reputations. For the next week, Sarapias hadn't left the house, until a concerned friend had convinced her that just lying around in fear wouldn't do her any good. The only good thing that had come out of the situation was the warm feeling she got in her chest when Thermoutharin said she'd been worried about her not showing up to the market for a while.