Benjamin owned with his brothers, but in the setting of the gnarled trees and dusty earth it would have a grandness when finished.
‘That is the home Stephanos is building for me. He will be there,’ Thessa said, then lowered her voice. ‘And do not think, because he does not speak your language, that he does not understand. He talks as he wishes. His father supplied goods to the vessels in the harbour, and now Stephanos does the same, and sometimes they sail for what they need. When it is festival time, he tells such tales of what he’s seen and heard, but says no place lives in his heart like Melos.’
A man stepped out of the new doorway, his form lessening the size of the opening by comparison.
He wore a turban head covering, which flowed down to wrap loosely around his neck. His clothing was rough woven and worn to slide with his body. His boots, high to the knees, could have been made by the same man who cobbled Benjamin’s. No waistcoat, just a colourful sash looped twice around his waist. Benjamin instantly noted the handle sticking from the band of fabric. Both men carried their knife in a similar fashion, only Ben’s was in a sheath.
Stephanos took long strides towards Thessa, unhurried, but full of purpose.
The Greek’s eyes stayed on Thessa, but Benjamin had no illusions that the man didn’t see him. Stephanos didn’t stop until he stood close enough to reach out a hand, touching Thessa’s shoulder.
‘Oraios.’ Stephanos’s lips turned up and his eyes rested on Thessa, and lingered.
Benjamin didn’t know what feelings Thessa had for the Greek, but the man’s stance near her reminded him of a rooster preening around a hen. Ben couldn’t blame Stephanos; he was fortunate indeed to be born in Thessa’s world and be the one rooster to catch her eye.
‘I bring this ship captain to you.’ Thessa spoke in English to her betrothed. ‘My sister has sent him back for the things she left behind. She misses our home, but cannot return because she is to have a child.’
Stephanos answered, his words splattering into air. Benjamin didn’t understand more than a few Greek phrases, but he understood the underlying hint of derision. Thessa spoke again. This time her voice soothed in the native language. Calm words. Gentle. Direct.
Then the Grecian turned to Benjamin, his words more fluid than the sea. His tone remained companionable, but his eyes narrowed, and Benjamin knew no friendship was offered.
Benjamin refused to say he didn’t understand, but instead turned to Thessa and flicked his brows upwards.
‘He offers you hospitality, hopes to help you with your needs so you can be on your way quickly,’ Thessa translated, rushing the sentence.
All those words could not have been quite the same neat package Thessa presented him with, but they would do.
‘I too wish to leave soon, though the beauty of the harbour is rare.’ He thought of Thessa’s face. But he didn’t want to lose the cargo waiting in Blackwall and wanted the feeling of owning his own bed, his own world. Staying long on Melos would not do him well.
A hint of redness touched her cheeks. Stephanos said something else and she grimaced, but the frown was the result Stephanos desired because his laugh bellowed out.
White-hot sparks burst into Benjamin’s thoughts. He’d never felt this kind of jealousy. He knew the emotion. On his first voyage, he’d been jealous of the seamen who knew everything there was to know about sailing. He’d been envious when he’d seen a particularly handsome sailing vessel—before Ascalon. But jealousy concerning a woman—an unthinkable emotion for weak minded men.
The stirrings of the unfamiliar feeling hit him in the stomach and anger flared towards Stephanos. The man was a dandy. Granted, not a Brummell version, but all the same, a dandy.
And he had a slashing scar which began above his eyebrow and moved into his hairline. Completely unbecoming and likely from some drink-sodden frivolity gone awry which he turned into a tale of bravery to impress Thessa.
Stephanos waved a hand towards a stone wall, uncompleted, and with stacks of rocks near each side of it, gesturing Benjamin to follow.
Just inside the low wall that would surround the new house, Benjamin saw a rough table, with planked boards for seating. Trees, not big enough for true shade, gave the illusion of coolness.
‘Poto.’ Stephanos raised his hand. His words, while not loud, carried to someone Benjamin couldn’t see until a head darted from the doorway of the smaller house.
Stephanos took Thessa’s hand, leading her, and guided her to a seat.
Thessa spoke to Stephanos in Greek, reproof in her tone. He laughed and his eyes crinkled at the edges. His head leaned towards her and he said a few soft words, and a blush spread on her cheeks.
Then he turned to Benjamin and perused him. Stephanos’s cheeks puffed, probably because of the thin line of his lips.
Thessa spoke again and the man’s eyes met her face, though his attention had never really left her. She gestured, her arm going towards the harbour.
Stephanos shook his head.
Thessa’s eyes narrowed and the speed of her speech increased. Her voice became more intent. While she talked, rapidly, the man placed his fingertips at Thessa’s arm and the fingers tightened.
‘Polyagapimenos.’ He looked into Thessa’s eyes and spoke the word as if they were alone—an endearment.
Benjamin could feel a grinding in his stomach, and a sudden need for movement, but he forced himself to sit silent and appear unconcerned.
Stephanos spoke again, words quiet and effectively shutting Benjamin out of conversation. Even if the words had been shouted Benjamin couldn’t have understood, but Stephanos knew that well. Then he reached out and brushed back a tendril of hair from Thessa’s brow, one wisp so small the invisible lock could not have distressed her. And his hand lingered, then fell away.
Benjamin felt something crack within him and anger began to war with the good sense in his body.
Thessa was going to be married to the man. But the display of possession was not necessary.
Stephanos’s gaze locked on Benjamin’s and he spoke, but the words were more measured, slow drops in a pail, not the rapid spraying to confuse.
Thessa took a moment before translating. ‘He wishes you to spend the night here. He wants you to have his hospitality, though you will soon be leaving. And discuss the transaction of the stone.’
Her eyes didn’t match her words. And Benjamin had heard tales of the area. And not just the myths or the legends of the women, but of men who could fight until the last drop of blood had been drained. Looking into Stephanos’s eyes, he decided the stories he’d heard had not been yarns. Enjoying the Greek’s hospitality would not be healthy or wise. Ben knew he would stay on Ascalon.
Benjamin felt his chest expand with his breath. ‘I need to discuss the purchase, so my men can begin digging.’
Stephanos spoke, his dark eyes never leaving Benjamin’s face. Benjamin had observed more pleasant looks on the faces of men who’d tried to gut him with a blade. He knew, though, that the man wasn’t thinking of violence. Instead,
