Deep Water
Greer Watson

At first, Arete had been grateful to have another woman whom she could join by the pond.  They sat—well apart from the men under the willow—spinning and sewing, and chatting as they kept an eye on the little girls.  If she felt slightly envious of Thalia’s large brood (especially the boys in the water and the baby boy who chuckled at her feet), Arete knew that it was the gods’ will how many were born, and how many lived.  Thalia was not the only woman in Athens with more children than her own one precious duckling—and it was nice for Charis to have other girls to play with in the warm summer sun.

After a while, though, a discomforting realization stole through her thoughts:  the other woman was from Athens, obviously, as her accent made clear; but not the Athens with which Arete was familiar.  Another time; but not another book.  (Another book would have been no problem.  There were many female characters from other books.)  Thalia was from some future point in The Last of the Wine.  Arete was tempted—briefly—to ask questions, ones that she knew that she did not really dare have answered.  Questions about Myron and the war, and the future of Alexias, and whether she would ever have a son.

Then it gradually grew on her that at least one of her questions was not going to go unanswered.  The man in the pond with the little boys was not only disquietingly like her stepson, but was Alexias—an Alexias grown to full manhood.

It took the barest hint to steer Thalia into proud exposition, and confirmation.

That Thalia was her daughter-in-law did not trouble Arete.  She was not someone she had ever met; and she was clearly a respectable woman of good birth, and a good wife to Alexias, and a good mother.  Arete would gladly have continued to chat with her future daughter-in-law in the warm sun, keeping an eye on the children.  It was Alexias who disturbed her—that man now full grown.  Decently covered by the pond water, but still nude beneath the concealing ripples.  Arete did not want to think of her stepson as a grown man, naked.  It was not seemly.

Finally, making an excuse, she collected her sewing and rose; and went into the house, to the kitchen, and then to the Library, where she found the Secretary—to whom she said nothing of her thoughts, but found other things to say.  A slave brought them refreshments, with some long sweet draught of unfamiliar fresh-squeezed fruit juice.

After a while, they drifted upstairs to the Secretary’s private chambers, where Arete was able to satisfy her curiosity about the other woman’s foreign garb, with its clever buttons and shoddy seams.

These invitations and interviews are written purely for entertainment, and as a tribute to the creator of the characters and author of the books, Mary Renault.   No copyright infringement is intended.

The story, "“ITOW – Deep Water”, was posted to maryrenaultfics on 4 September 2010 by greerwatson.