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She nodded. ‘Fair enough. You are married?’
I shook my head, and there it was – without pause, I burst into tears. Drink, and Nike.
She didn’t throw her arms around me, but she didn’t flinch, either. ‘Bad question. I’m sorry.’
It passed like a sudden rain shower. And drunke
She shrugged. ‘You love your wife. I’m not surprised. You seem . . . complete. More complete than most men your age.’
I shook my head. ‘I had a mistress. She died – a month ago.’ I sat on the edge of the kline. Wondering why I was babbling to this woman. ‘I should have married her, and I didn’t.’
The hetaera sat up with me. She was quite tall. ‘I don’t really know what to say. Men usually confide in me about their wife’s failings. Not . . . not real things.’
That made me smile. Somehow. ‘Well,’ I said. ‘You have a way with you.’
‘I’m a happy person,’ she said. ‘I try to spread it around. Not all the ground is receptive, but some is.’
A slave brought me my chlamys, and I pi
‘You have been a charming guest. I had you for Diodorus’s sake, but I’d have you again for your own. Diodorus or Kineas can tell you when I have another evening. I hope that you enjoyed yourself.’
The woman bowed slightly to me while she pi
‘I had a wonderful time,’ I admitted.
‘I think she likes you,’ Graccus said, following my eyes. ‘But I admit, with Thaïs, it’s often hard to tell. She’s not like any other hetaera I’ve ever known.’
‘No,’ I said. I’d only known one, and she’d been . . . complicated. I looked at Thaïs again, and she had her head back, veiled, laughing.
I embraced my host, gathered Myndas from the kitchen, drunker than me, and started the long walk home.
That was the first of a long series of symposia, and while I don’t recall every one of them, I loved them as a whole. I found that I loved to talk – I loved to mix the wine, when invited. I went to the agora and purchased spices, and carried them in a small box of tortoiseshell. I still have it. I sent wine to friends – I was a rich man, even by Athenian standards.
With the permission of Eumenes, I used his andron and gave my own symposium. I invited Aristotle – he was far away, in Mytilene, and didn’t come, but it amused me to invite him. I invited Alexander and Hephaestion, Cleitus and Nearchus, Kineas and Diodorus, Graccus and Niceas, Demetrios and Lykeles and half a dozen other young men I’d come to know.
I agonised over the arrangements – no help from Eumenes or Kineas, who, for aristocrats, were surprisingly uninterested. Eumenes decried the expense, and Kineas just laughed.
‘A flash of good wine, a bowl to mix it, some bread and some friends,’ he said. ‘There’s nothing to it.’
I glowered at him. ‘I want it to go as well as Graccus’s parties,’ I said.
Kineas shrugged. ‘That’s all Graccus has – wine, bread. A good sunset and the right men.’
‘Flute girls, actors, music, a hetaera, perfect fish . . .’ I said.
Kineas laughed. ‘Frippery,’ he said. ‘The guests make the evening.’
‘Thanks, Socrates,’ I said. ‘Go away and leave me to my barbarian worries.’
Diodorus was more help. ‘Get that girl,’ he said. ‘The hetaera. Everyone says she gives the best symposia in Athens. I’ve never been invited. Offer her money.’
‘She went to Graccus’s house for nothing,’ I said primly.
‘Are you Graccus?’ Diodorus said. ‘She’s a hetaera. Offer her money.’
In fact, I had no need to approach her, because a week later, after a state di
‘Never known a woman like her,’ he said. ‘Brilliant. Earthy.’ He shrugged. He was lightly drunk.
Hephaestion wasn’t jealous, so it wasn’t sex. Or wasn’t just sex.
At any rate, I don’t know what I expected – a brothel? An andron writ large? But Thaïs’s house was a house – the house of a prosperous woman – and she sat at a large loom, weaving. She rose and bowed to Alexander, and he took her hands, kissed them and went straight to a kline with Hephaestion.
There were other men there – and other women.
She had no veil on, and she was beautiful. All eyes and cheekbones. And breasts. And legs.
‘The Macedonian,’ she said to me, quietly. ‘I wondered if I had offended you.’
I must have looked surprised. ‘How so?’
‘I invited you to come,’ she said. ‘You didn’t.’
I shook my head. ‘I never received any such invitation,’ I said. ‘I would most certainly have come.’
She nodded. ‘Eumenes probably destroyed it.’ She bit her lip. ‘He’s very . . . old-fashioned.’
I found myself smiling. ‘I’m giving a symposium,’ I said without preamble.
She looked up at me – she was back at her loom. ‘Splendid!’ she said, with a little too much emphasis.
‘I want your advice. Your help.’ I blurted this. She smiled and looked elsewhere.
‘Advice?’ she said.
‘I want it to be perfect,’ I said.
She smiled. ‘It’s all in the guest list,’ she said.
‘That’s what Eumenes says,’ I shot back.
‘He’s right,’ she said. She was looking around the room. There were eight couches, all full. ‘I am working right now,’ she said. ‘If you were to come back tomorrow afternoon, we might actually talk.’
Alexander raised a wine cup. ‘You are not your sparkling self tonight, Thaïs. Too busy weaving?’
She rose to her feet. ‘I was thinking about Persia,’ she said.
Alexander looked puzzled – as if a pig had just said a line of Homer. Women did not, as a rule, think about Persia. It was odd—he could see her as a woman—even as an intelligent woman. But as someone who could understand politics? Never! Which, of course, makes her later role all the more delicious.
‘What about Persia?’ he asked.
‘I was wondering how old I will be before you destroy it utterly,’ she said.
All talk in the room ceased.
Alexander looked at her with wonder. ‘Are you a sibyl? An oracle?’
She shook her head. ‘No. I am a woman who wants revenge. I ca
‘Revenge?’ he asked. Odd – he was so good at leading men. His questions showed how little he saw in her.
‘A woman may crave revenge as well as a man,’ she said. ‘Look at Medea.’
‘For what does a pretty girl like you crave revenge?’ he asked.
‘Ask me another evening,’ she said. ‘Tonight, I think I will dance.’
There was suddenly something angry and dangerous about her. I couldn’t watch. So I took my leave. Alexander didn’t even see me go.
Antipater was waiting outside on the portico, and we walked towards our homes together.
‘He’s besotted with her,’ Antipater said.
That’s not what I’d seen.
‘He enjoys her company, and the privacy,’ I said.
‘He’s been making some dangerous statements,’ Antipater said. ‘I know that you’ve been enjoying Athens, but I need you to spend more time with him. And keep him from getting into trouble.’
I stopped walking and looked at him. ‘Trouble?’ I asked.
‘He keeps talking about what he’ll do when he’s king,’ Antipater said.
I shrugged.
‘Philip does not like to be reminded that there may be a time when he is notking,’ he said.
‘Alexander’s the heir,’ I said. ‘He doesn’t even have a rival.’