"I am thy—" The word "sister" trembled upon her tongue, but she checked it. "I am thy protectress," she said. "Men call me Thais."
A blush rose to her cheek as she uttered the name and felt the clear blue eyes of the young girl upon her own.
"Thais?" Artemisia repeated, searching in her memory. "I have heard the name in Athens, but I forget when and where. I think they said you were beautiful, and indeed you are."
"Is that all they said of me?" Thais returned.
"I think that is all; I do not remember more," Artemisia replied.
Thais felt relieved. Her sister would learn soon enough who and what she was. She hoped that when the knowledge came Artemisia would love her enough to grant her forgiveness. She had broken with her old life. Why drag it with her wherever she went?
"Why did you come here?" Artemisia continued.
"I came in search of you, and the Gods have given you to me," Thais said.
Artemisia nestled beside her companion on the broad couch while Thais told her of all that had happened in Athens since she had been carried away by Syphax and his crew. In her narration she omitted the feast in the house of Clearchus and passed lightly over details that might have given Artemisia a clew to her identity. She described Clearchus' despair at her loss and his vain effort to find some trace of her. She told how he had consulted the oracle and of her own adventure in Thebes when Chares had given his fortune to save her from Phradates. Then the young men had joined the army and left her alone in Athens.
"Chares consented that I should meet him here," she went on. "He said that women would not be allowed to follow the army to its first battle. It is there the greatest danger lies; for if they win there, they will hold all the western provinces of the Persian empire."