C H A P T E R 1
Janina, Greece
350 BC
Theodotos Politis sat in the Janina square surrounded by well-wishers. His
two brothers and three sisters were among them. He was awaiting the birth of his
tenth child.
For years he had been the butt of many jokes because his wife had given birth
to nine girls…three of whom had died within their first year.
He arrived in the square early with the news that Ostrou, his wife, was in
heavy labor. She was being attended to by two midwives who insisted that Theodotos
leave the house. They promised to send him word as soon as Ostrou gave
birth.
During the two mile walk to the square, Theodotos prayed fervently to all the
Gods relating to family. He prayed to Hera, the Goddess of marriage, to Aphrodite,
the Goddess of love. He promised them many sacrifices if they would give
him a son. He was tired of being pitied by the townspeople of Janina for having
no sons to help with the farm work or tend to the sheep.
Theodotos was torn between the love for his lovely daughters and his resentment
of them for not being boys. He needed a productive farm and sheep to feed
his family and survive the rough cold winters.
He was ashamed that in his desperation for help, he had to train Sperenza, his
14-year-old daughter to herd the sheep. He picked her because she was the tallest
and strongest of his daughters. She was a fast learner and before long was a big
help to her father.
Sperenza loved working outdoors. She thanked her Gods that she didn’t have
to stay at home and learn to cook and clean like her sisters did. She was the only
one that looked like her mother. She had bright red curly hair and towered over
her sisters.
Sometimes Sperenza took 13-year-old Staroola along with her to help, but
Staroola complained bitterly that it was man’s work. She preferred the confines of
the kitchen and the company of her mother and sisters.
The oldest daughter, 18-year-old Dzoya helped her mother raise all her
younger siblings and was her mother’s helper since she was six. She was responsible
for the care of her infant sisters.
One harsh winter, two of the younger children developed a terrible cough.
When they died, Dzoya mourned them as if they were her own children.
Although the girls were only a year apart, most of the responsibility of helping
Ostrou rested with Dzoya and Lonitza who was now seventeen. 16-year-old
Honoula helped with the cooking while 13-year-old Staroola helped clean the
house. Modzolou, 12, and Melina, 11 were in charge of the small vegetable garden
behind the house.
For the past few years, since her infant sisters died, Dzoya begged her mother
to arrange a marriage for her so she could have a family of her own. Ostrou knew
that although Dzoya was quite pretty, but without a dowry her chances of getting
married were nil.
Unfortunately, this was true of all her daughters. Ostrou and Theodotos worried
about what would become of them without the customary dowry. Lately, she
noticed that Lonitza spent the day crying when any of her teenage friends
announced their forthcoming marriages.
Only 11-year-old Melina didn’t seem concerned with her future. She begged
Sperenza to take her along to herd sheep or tend the vegetables on the farm. Once
in a while Sperenza took Melina along but she preferred going alone to do her
chores, for then she was free to roam through the woods picking berries or hunting
rabbits to bring home to Ostrou.
Although Sperenza hated her long red hair and wanted to cut it short, her
mother would not allow it. She contented herself with shoving her hair under her
boy’s cap and hid her femininity with her father’s loose shirts and pants. Her parents
allowed her to dress in this fashion because they knew she wandered far from
home and in case of meeting strangers they preferred that she pass for a boy.
Four hours after Theodotos arrived at the square there was still no word from
the midwives. He was getting worried. The midwives predicted the birth would
come within an hour or two at the most. All Ostrou’s other children had been
born shortly after her pains began.
He took leave of his brothers and was walking back to his farm when he met
Honoula running toward him.
“Papa, come quickly. Something is wrong with Mama,” she sobbed.
“What’s wrong? Didn’t she have the baby yet?”
“Yes. It’s a boy.”
“A boy? It’s a boy!” Theodotos was beside himself with joy. He grabbed
Honoula and kissed her. Then he remembered what she said. Something was
wrong with Ostrou.
“What’s wrong with Mama? They said to tell you to bring Malinika.”
Malinika was very old, but was a highly respected midwife who had retired
because of her age. Only in an emergency did they send for her.
“Honoula, run as fast as you can to Malinika’s house and bring her back with
you. I’m going home to see if I can be of help.”
Honoula hurried toward town while Theodotos ran the rest of the way home.
He was greeted by tearful Dzoya and Lonitza. Dzoya clung to her father. “Pap,
Mama is in terrible trouble. They can’t stop the bleeding!”
Theodotos ran into the house. Ostrou’s face was chalk white. She tried to
smile at him as he took her hand in his. He could barely hear her as she whispered
proudly, “It’s a boy. Little Theodotos has finally arrived.”
Theodotos cradled Ostrou in his arms. “Yes my darling, we have a son at last.
Thank you my darling.”
Ostrou suddenly went limp in his arms. After their examination of Ostrou,
the midwives began to howl their ghoulish lament for the dead. Bedlam broke
out in the room. Theodotos daughters caught the spirit of the lament and their
screams echoed throughout the house.
Modzolou ran to the bed. She leaned over her mother, shaking her and pleading.
“Mama, I want Mama.” Dzoya tried to console Modzolou as Staroola ran to
the other side of her mother’s bed. “Mama, don’t leave us” she cried hysterically.
Nothing Dzoya said or did could console them. Her own sobs soon joined her
sisters. Her father sat in a chair near the bed seemingly unaware of his surroundings.
Dzoya knew it was up to her to restore some semblance of order. Her
mother would have expected it.
“Lonitza,” Dzoya commanded, “Help me with the girls. Melina, go find Sperenza
now. Tell her to come home right away.”
Melina ran from the room.
Just then Honoula came bursting in with Malinika. The midwife took one
look at Ostrou and went into her mourner’s lament. Honoula screamed hysterically,
“No. Mama can’t be dead. No. No.”
Malinika took charge. She wrapped the new born boy in a blanket and handed
him to his father just as Sperenza dashed into the room.
“Here’s your son,” Malinika said bitterly to Theodotos. “I told you she should
not have any more children. But men need sons, no matter what the cost.”
Sperenza heard Malinika. Her wild red hair fanned out around her face. She
looked at her mother’s white face on the pillow. She looked more peaceful than
Sperenza had ever seen her. “It can’t be true! Mama can’t be dead,” she screamed.
She turned to her father angrily. “Papa didn’t you care about Mama? Did you
need a son so badly that you killed her for one?”
She ran to the bed, shoving her father and the baby aside and threw her arms
around her mother hugging her thin worn body. Hot wet tears ran down her
cheeks. “Oh Mama, don’t leave us. We love you so much.”
It took two of the midwives to drag her away from her dead mother. She
caught her father’s eyes. “You killed her,” she screamed. “You never cared about
her or any of us. All you ever cared about was having sons!” She ran out of the
house and disappeared into the woods.