The Isle of Stone

4.

Damatria had realized a single, sustaining prospect-to have a truly legitimate child. To that end, she attacked her husband in a procreational frenzy. Molobrus kept up as best he could, but showed fear in his eyes as she bared her legs for the third, fourth, fifth go in a night. Even in his ignorance he could sense there was no pleasure in the act for her, only the obstinate purpose of a commander marshaling his forces for some greater end.

A son was born the following summer. Molobrus took an afternoon to come home from the barracks, looked down at young Epitadas, and pronounced himself pleased. But to Damatria his arrival marked the time of her own rebirth, of joys that were finally unmixed. Her months of shame, of lies of omission, were over.

She responded with a tenderness that surprised Lampito. The infant’s wine baths were diluted to one-sixth strength and less. While Antalcidas lay without cover in a basket across the room, Damatria took Epitadas to bed with her. His hunger and chills, his teething, and the softness of his blankets, were constant matters for concern. One day, when Lampito looked in on them, she was pleased to see that Antalcidas had begun to pull himself upright against his mother’s legs. Damatria, however, would barely glance at him as she cooed at Epitadas.

“I would think you were a first-time mother, the way you coddle him,” Lampito said. “Remember I told you that Sparta needs…”

“Sparta needs spears, yes,” the other interrupted. Breaking her gaze at Epitadas, she looked down at Antalcidas with something more than her usual severity. As she stroked his head, he became excited, trying to pull himself into her lap. She withdrew her hand.

It would be untrue to say Damatria never developed any feelings for Antalcidas. With the blessing of Epitadas’ arrival, the well of her compassion overflowed enough for her to spare a few drops for his brother, who was really a fine, strong boy. When she thought about how cruel she had been to him, she was even inclined to regret-though for Epitadas’ sake she did not take her self-recriminations too far. In time, she came to make peace with her secrets, and to the temporary weakness in her that had spawned her eldest. In place of useless resentment, she nurtured grandiose plans for achievement. Epitadas stood at the focus of her ambition, but his brother would have an important role to play. She pulled Antalcidas up and gave him the other breast; she fell asleep with both boys clinging to her, staring into each other’s eyes across the chasm.