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The ship was large which possibly accounted for the lack of rocking. Hypatia had often heard that time upon the sea could be rough, disorientating. Even potentially drive a passenger aboard a vessel to an upset stomach and coarse hair and skin. A lifetime at sea and it was said that men could not walk straight, weaving upon their pins as if they were drunkards leaving taverns late at night. Yet it was their heads not their bellies that caused such imbalance. Hypatia had heard word and whisper that the sea could send men mad and set their mind whirling as if they thought the world still rolling with the tide; that their feet compensated for roaming waves that did not exist beneath their soles.
Yet, Hypatia saw no such issue, during her voyage on the merchant ship her family had paid for passage upon. The captain of the vessel - a large merchant craft used on regular trips between Taengea and Judea - had assured them upon their embarkment that the size of the boat diminished the rocking effect that the sea did plough upon its underbelly. Such assurances appeared to have had little assurance on the stomach of Hypatia's mother, who had so far on their journey spent most of the trip emptying her breakfast over the side of the boat. And the other half of her time attempting to hide such a weakness from the men they sailed with.
Europa of Acharist, despite her tender disposition at their method of travel was a woman well-bred for the deceptions of propriety. Able to convince not only the sailors and the captain that nothing had ailed her since they left the Taengean shoreline, it was only Hypatia who noticed her mother's ill favour. She and the guardsman that was duty bound to accompany her the wife and daughter of his employer and was often found using his wide shoulders to block the view of Europa's more undignified moments at sea.
Hypatia, on the other hand, held no such qualms by the rocking of the ocean. Perhaps it was her spirited self that gave her good humour, perhaps her generous and easily swayed character was simply swayed into an acceptance of the ship's motion, or perhaps the heightened eagerness and adrenaline of what awaited her in Judea simply kept her distracted enough to pay no mind to any unsettled disposition on her part.
Whatever the reason, Hypatia felt no ill effects from the sea. Instead, she spent a large portion of the journey standing up front, at the point of the ship where the sailors needed little to do. Out of the way of their eager hands and quick work upon the ropes and sails of the vessel, Hypatia was left to stand for hours at a time staring out towards the horizon and witnessing as the sun rose and set into the sea on opposing sides of their journey's path.
Being at sea was by no means an excuse to lower her state of dress or decorum of course. Her mother had seen to that. Dressed in full and encompassing peplos with himations fastened tightly around the shoulders, Europe not only ensured that her daughter was properly gowned as befit the breeding of an ambitious merchant family but also that she was fair lavished in oils and treatments for her skin and hair so as to not look worn by the ravages of wind and sea spray by the time they reached their destination.
Allowing for one night to be docked within the harbours of Israel, for the sake of better appearances on both their parts, it was not until the morning after their arrival in Judea that a message was sent to the home of Commander Alexios that they had docked in his inhabited, if not native, kingdom. During the wait for such a response, Hypatia was treated to a swath of beauty regimes that had her feeling pampered, then plied with too much attention for her liking and then finally aching in the neck and turned into a thorough spectacle.
Her hair was curled into tight ringlets of shining fawn, the light catching strands of gold and copper among the locks. Her face was made up carefully, the oils of the journey ensuring there was not a dry spot upon her nubile features. Her skin was worked into the consistency and image of fresh cream and her eyes darkened with definition to show them to their best advantage.
Whilst it had been some years since Hypatia was of marriable age and this was not a routine she was unfamiliar with, it was still taking her some adjusting to the treatment of her aesthetics prior to puberty. A girl unblessed with even growth, Hypatia had been a gangly little thing, with limbs too long, eyes too big and hair as unruly as it came. As she grew, however, everything fell into proportion with her doe-eyes and rosebud mouth now signs of fertile womanhood over infantile sweetness. Which was only to her credit for the rest of her was waiflike and delicate. Elegant in the extreme but hardly an Aphrodite figure ready for procreation.
It was to this that her mother lamented in regular interludes throughout her dressing, flatly refusing to allow her a chiton over a peplos (for such a design hid the limited curves of her chest) and insisted on a himation design that would wrap around the hips in order to accentuate what was not wholly there.
By the time the response to their arrival had arrived, Hypatia was both entirely ready to finish such preparation and attend upon their host, while equally nervous now for all the efforts her mother had made, as if she were meeting a king or God themselves.
Dressed in a fine, silken peplos the colour of pearl and a dusty rose himation that wrapped over one shoulder and then fastened around the hips before trailing to the floor her the back of her heels, Hypatia was given elegance by her upbringing and wealth in her jewels. Gold hang from her neck, at the cuffs on each wrist and in the fibulae that held the yards of pink gossamer at shoulder and hip. Cords of gold had been woven into her hair and the lightest drops of rose quartz hung from each lobe, dancing between the tips of her curls where they had been fastened up upon her head. Her sandals were of equally finely worked gold thread and were so thin that they appeared almost invisible to the naked eye with the elegant speed of her steps and the way in which her skirts hid her toes more often than they revealed them.
Given her mother's supreme efforts on her appearance; how every lock shined, how every piece of exposed skin glowed with smoothness thanks to a harsh scrubbing the night before, Hypatia was infinitely careful to walk with the appropriate posture, grace and step that Europa would expect from all of her daughters. Whilst she was not her else sister Eurydice - a woman apparently gifted from birth with all the appropriate womanly talents - Hypatia felt did not fall particularly short of expectation in getting from the ship to the closed carriage that awaited them on the docks. For, men and dock workers alike stood to watch she and her mother pass by with a staring eye.
The fact that they were simply staring because their appearances were strange and foreign did not occur to Hypatia. She simply took their looks as a confirmation of the radiance her mother had worked so hard to create upon her mouldable clay.
The carriage that had been sent came with a message from the Commander that he begged the forgiveness of Europe of Archarist and her daughter Hypatia but that matters in the barracks and among his soldiers had him detained for the morning but that he would send the duly appeared carriage to fetch them to his residence and meet them there upon their arrival.
'An important man,' Europe had said upon receipt of the note. 'does not always realise the importance of a wife. It will be your task to make that clear to him Hypatia...'
"Yes, Mama." Hypatia answered with a simply nod, but her response was found lacking if the shrewd look she received was anything to go by. She wracked her mind for a different, more satisfactory response. "Of course, Mother." This was given a stiff nod and stilted smile before the two women and their guardsman escort were permitted down the gangway from the ship, across the street and into the carriage, where Hypatia was quite thankful to get out of the sun.
As they were directed and taken to the residence of Commander Alexios of Argothia, Hypatia gave little consideration at first to the man that they were meeting. Instead, her curiosity was gripped by the streets and the people that flocked them.
"How peculiar that they wear such layers in such heat, Mama." Hypatia commented, as she leant to view the pedestrians from the window.
'The Hebrews are strange and uneducated, daughter.' Europa explained simply. 'Let it be a warning against socialising with them rather than a source of curiosity. Whilst we are in Judea, we are still Greek. Your intended is Greek, as will be his officers, friends and family. Do not trouble yourself with trying to understand the ways of the natives. You will not require such understanding.'
And that was the matter settled.
Unable to lean forward any longer to gaze at the Judeans, their homes and their way of life, without the stern and appraising look of her mother interfering, Hypatia was left with little more to ponder on than the reason of their visit, which was possibly for the best.
For, besides attempting to learn some Hebrew phrases and asking her brother for further information on the ranks of the military so that she might better understand the rank and role of a 'Commander', Hypatia's mind had veered away from any strong thought upon her future as his potential wife.
For, it was all perfectly normal that this was how her life would go. Ever since she was young, Hypatia had heard her parents speak of Eurydice's changes of marriage, how she and her sisters would be expected to follow suit. How marriage was the sole way in which any young woman could bring glory, connection, wealth or honour to her family. Ergo, Hypatia had always known that she would be married as soon as she was able to. And now, at the age of sixteen, she was of a perfectly acceptable age to do just that.
When she thought of Commander Alexios at all in the last few weeks since the arrangements had started to unfold between her family, her brother's military connections, and that of the Commander's family, Hypatia had simply assumed that, as a widower, the Commander Alexios would know how to be a good husband, so would allow her to muddle through as a learning wife. Provided that man was not grossly ugly or vulgar in some way, she could be content with whatever was presented to her. If it pleased her family so, why should it not please her?
When the carriage pulled through a large archway, it became immediately clear to Hypatia that they had moved into the Greek portion of Israel. The shouts, hollers and chatter that seeped in through the window were now calls that she understood rather than a melodic gibberish she had yet to learn. Most of the voices here were also male instead of the diverse mix they had left behind them. This was, no doubt, the Greek area used by the male soldiers of Taengea. The home to the Commander would be here somewhere, likely the largest and wealthiest of the homes.
At least, that was what her mother had assured her.
Being given a stern eye, Hypatia resisted the urge to lean her head out of the window and witness the area in which she might soon live and, instead, remained comported and delicately refined in her seat, staying away from the window and adjusting her dress to ensure that nothing was out of place.
When the carriage came to a complete stop, Hypatia looked to Europa for guidance, the woman not stepping down from the vehicle until their Greek guardsmen stepped forwards to offer the aid of his hand. Hypatia waited her turn and was offered a similar aid from a soldier she did not know - a personal home guard to the Commander perhaps?
Upon her gilded feet touching the ground and the sun warming her face, Hypatia smiled, her features appearing almost cherubic as she glanced around to meet the gaze of a powerfully large man approaching their arrival with purpose...
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The ship was large which possibly accounted for the lack of rocking. Hypatia had often heard that time upon the sea could be rough, disorientating. Even potentially drive a passenger aboard a vessel to an upset stomach and coarse hair and skin. A lifetime at sea and it was said that men could not walk straight, weaving upon their pins as if they were drunkards leaving taverns late at night. Yet it was their heads not their bellies that caused such imbalance. Hypatia had heard word and whisper that the sea could send men mad and set their mind whirling as if they thought the world still rolling with the tide; that their feet compensated for roaming waves that did not exist beneath their soles.
Yet, Hypatia saw no such issue, during her voyage on the merchant ship her family had paid for passage upon. The captain of the vessel - a large merchant craft used on regular trips between Taengea and Judea - had assured them upon their embarkment that the size of the boat diminished the rocking effect that the sea did plough upon its underbelly. Such assurances appeared to have had little assurance on the stomach of Hypatia's mother, who had so far on their journey spent most of the trip emptying her breakfast over the side of the boat. And the other half of her time attempting to hide such a weakness from the men they sailed with.
Europa of Acharist, despite her tender disposition at their method of travel was a woman well-bred for the deceptions of propriety. Able to convince not only the sailors and the captain that nothing had ailed her since they left the Taengean shoreline, it was only Hypatia who noticed her mother's ill favour. She and the guardsman that was duty bound to accompany her the wife and daughter of his employer and was often found using his wide shoulders to block the view of Europa's more undignified moments at sea.
Hypatia, on the other hand, held no such qualms by the rocking of the ocean. Perhaps it was her spirited self that gave her good humour, perhaps her generous and easily swayed character was simply swayed into an acceptance of the ship's motion, or perhaps the heightened eagerness and adrenaline of what awaited her in Judea simply kept her distracted enough to pay no mind to any unsettled disposition on her part.
Whatever the reason, Hypatia felt no ill effects from the sea. Instead, she spent a large portion of the journey standing up front, at the point of the ship where the sailors needed little to do. Out of the way of their eager hands and quick work upon the ropes and sails of the vessel, Hypatia was left to stand for hours at a time staring out towards the horizon and witnessing as the sun rose and set into the sea on opposing sides of their journey's path.
Being at sea was by no means an excuse to lower her state of dress or decorum of course. Her mother had seen to that. Dressed in full and encompassing peplos with himations fastened tightly around the shoulders, Europe not only ensured that her daughter was properly gowned as befit the breeding of an ambitious merchant family but also that she was fair lavished in oils and treatments for her skin and hair so as to not look worn by the ravages of wind and sea spray by the time they reached their destination.
Allowing for one night to be docked within the harbours of Israel, for the sake of better appearances on both their parts, it was not until the morning after their arrival in Judea that a message was sent to the home of Commander Alexios that they had docked in his inhabited, if not native, kingdom. During the wait for such a response, Hypatia was treated to a swath of beauty regimes that had her feeling pampered, then plied with too much attention for her liking and then finally aching in the neck and turned into a thorough spectacle.
Her hair was curled into tight ringlets of shining fawn, the light catching strands of gold and copper among the locks. Her face was made up carefully, the oils of the journey ensuring there was not a dry spot upon her nubile features. Her skin was worked into the consistency and image of fresh cream and her eyes darkened with definition to show them to their best advantage.
Whilst it had been some years since Hypatia was of marriable age and this was not a routine she was unfamiliar with, it was still taking her some adjusting to the treatment of her aesthetics prior to puberty. A girl unblessed with even growth, Hypatia had been a gangly little thing, with limbs too long, eyes too big and hair as unruly as it came. As she grew, however, everything fell into proportion with her doe-eyes and rosebud mouth now signs of fertile womanhood over infantile sweetness. Which was only to her credit for the rest of her was waiflike and delicate. Elegant in the extreme but hardly an Aphrodite figure ready for procreation.
It was to this that her mother lamented in regular interludes throughout her dressing, flatly refusing to allow her a chiton over a peplos (for such a design hid the limited curves of her chest) and insisted on a himation design that would wrap around the hips in order to accentuate what was not wholly there.
By the time the response to their arrival had arrived, Hypatia was both entirely ready to finish such preparation and attend upon their host, while equally nervous now for all the efforts her mother had made, as if she were meeting a king or God themselves.
Dressed in a fine, silken peplos the colour of pearl and a dusty rose himation that wrapped over one shoulder and then fastened around the hips before trailing to the floor her the back of her heels, Hypatia was given elegance by her upbringing and wealth in her jewels. Gold hang from her neck, at the cuffs on each wrist and in the fibulae that held the yards of pink gossamer at shoulder and hip. Cords of gold had been woven into her hair and the lightest drops of rose quartz hung from each lobe, dancing between the tips of her curls where they had been fastened up upon her head. Her sandals were of equally finely worked gold thread and were so thin that they appeared almost invisible to the naked eye with the elegant speed of her steps and the way in which her skirts hid her toes more often than they revealed them.
Given her mother's supreme efforts on her appearance; how every lock shined, how every piece of exposed skin glowed with smoothness thanks to a harsh scrubbing the night before, Hypatia was infinitely careful to walk with the appropriate posture, grace and step that Europa would expect from all of her daughters. Whilst she was not her else sister Eurydice - a woman apparently gifted from birth with all the appropriate womanly talents - Hypatia felt did not fall particularly short of expectation in getting from the ship to the closed carriage that awaited them on the docks. For, men and dock workers alike stood to watch she and her mother pass by with a staring eye.
The fact that they were simply staring because their appearances were strange and foreign did not occur to Hypatia. She simply took their looks as a confirmation of the radiance her mother had worked so hard to create upon her mouldable clay.
The carriage that had been sent came with a message from the Commander that he begged the forgiveness of Europe of Archarist and her daughter Hypatia but that matters in the barracks and among his soldiers had him detained for the morning but that he would send the duly appeared carriage to fetch them to his residence and meet them there upon their arrival.
'An important man,' Europe had said upon receipt of the note. 'does not always realise the importance of a wife. It will be your task to make that clear to him Hypatia...'
"Yes, Mama." Hypatia answered with a simply nod, but her response was found lacking if the shrewd look she received was anything to go by. She wracked her mind for a different, more satisfactory response. "Of course, Mother." This was given a stiff nod and stilted smile before the two women and their guardsman escort were permitted down the gangway from the ship, across the street and into the carriage, where Hypatia was quite thankful to get out of the sun.
As they were directed and taken to the residence of Commander Alexios of Argothia, Hypatia gave little consideration at first to the man that they were meeting. Instead, her curiosity was gripped by the streets and the people that flocked them.
"How peculiar that they wear such layers in such heat, Mama." Hypatia commented, as she leant to view the pedestrians from the window.
'The Hebrews are strange and uneducated, daughter.' Europa explained simply. 'Let it be a warning against socialising with them rather than a source of curiosity. Whilst we are in Judea, we are still Greek. Your intended is Greek, as will be his officers, friends and family. Do not trouble yourself with trying to understand the ways of the natives. You will not require such understanding.'
And that was the matter settled.
Unable to lean forward any longer to gaze at the Judeans, their homes and their way of life, without the stern and appraising look of her mother interfering, Hypatia was left with little more to ponder on than the reason of their visit, which was possibly for the best.
For, besides attempting to learn some Hebrew phrases and asking her brother for further information on the ranks of the military so that she might better understand the rank and role of a 'Commander', Hypatia's mind had veered away from any strong thought upon her future as his potential wife.
For, it was all perfectly normal that this was how her life would go. Ever since she was young, Hypatia had heard her parents speak of Eurydice's changes of marriage, how she and her sisters would be expected to follow suit. How marriage was the sole way in which any young woman could bring glory, connection, wealth or honour to her family. Ergo, Hypatia had always known that she would be married as soon as she was able to. And now, at the age of sixteen, she was of a perfectly acceptable age to do just that.
When she thought of Commander Alexios at all in the last few weeks since the arrangements had started to unfold between her family, her brother's military connections, and that of the Commander's family, Hypatia had simply assumed that, as a widower, the Commander Alexios would know how to be a good husband, so would allow her to muddle through as a learning wife. Provided that man was not grossly ugly or vulgar in some way, she could be content with whatever was presented to her. If it pleased her family so, why should it not please her?
When the carriage pulled through a large archway, it became immediately clear to Hypatia that they had moved into the Greek portion of Israel. The shouts, hollers and chatter that seeped in through the window were now calls that she understood rather than a melodic gibberish she had yet to learn. Most of the voices here were also male instead of the diverse mix they had left behind them. This was, no doubt, the Greek area used by the male soldiers of Taengea. The home to the Commander would be here somewhere, likely the largest and wealthiest of the homes.
At least, that was what her mother had assured her.
Being given a stern eye, Hypatia resisted the urge to lean her head out of the window and witness the area in which she might soon live and, instead, remained comported and delicately refined in her seat, staying away from the window and adjusting her dress to ensure that nothing was out of place.
When the carriage came to a complete stop, Hypatia looked to Europa for guidance, the woman not stepping down from the vehicle until their Greek guardsmen stepped forwards to offer the aid of his hand. Hypatia waited her turn and was offered a similar aid from a soldier she did not know - a personal home guard to the Commander perhaps?
Upon her gilded feet touching the ground and the sun warming her face, Hypatia smiled, her features appearing almost cherubic as she glanced around to meet the gaze of a powerfully large man approaching their arrival with purpose...
The ship was large which possibly accounted for the lack of rocking. Hypatia had often heard that time upon the sea could be rough, disorientating. Even potentially drive a passenger aboard a vessel to an upset stomach and coarse hair and skin. A lifetime at sea and it was said that men could not walk straight, weaving upon their pins as if they were drunkards leaving taverns late at night. Yet it was their heads not their bellies that caused such imbalance. Hypatia had heard word and whisper that the sea could send men mad and set their mind whirling as if they thought the world still rolling with the tide; that their feet compensated for roaming waves that did not exist beneath their soles.
Yet, Hypatia saw no such issue, during her voyage on the merchant ship her family had paid for passage upon. The captain of the vessel - a large merchant craft used on regular trips between Taengea and Judea - had assured them upon their embarkment that the size of the boat diminished the rocking effect that the sea did plough upon its underbelly. Such assurances appeared to have had little assurance on the stomach of Hypatia's mother, who had so far on their journey spent most of the trip emptying her breakfast over the side of the boat. And the other half of her time attempting to hide such a weakness from the men they sailed with.
Europa of Acharist, despite her tender disposition at their method of travel was a woman well-bred for the deceptions of propriety. Able to convince not only the sailors and the captain that nothing had ailed her since they left the Taengean shoreline, it was only Hypatia who noticed her mother's ill favour. She and the guardsman that was duty bound to accompany her the wife and daughter of his employer and was often found using his wide shoulders to block the view of Europa's more undignified moments at sea.
Hypatia, on the other hand, held no such qualms by the rocking of the ocean. Perhaps it was her spirited self that gave her good humour, perhaps her generous and easily swayed character was simply swayed into an acceptance of the ship's motion, or perhaps the heightened eagerness and adrenaline of what awaited her in Judea simply kept her distracted enough to pay no mind to any unsettled disposition on her part.
Whatever the reason, Hypatia felt no ill effects from the sea. Instead, she spent a large portion of the journey standing up front, at the point of the ship where the sailors needed little to do. Out of the way of their eager hands and quick work upon the ropes and sails of the vessel, Hypatia was left to stand for hours at a time staring out towards the horizon and witnessing as the sun rose and set into the sea on opposing sides of their journey's path.
Being at sea was by no means an excuse to lower her state of dress or decorum of course. Her mother had seen to that. Dressed in full and encompassing peplos with himations fastened tightly around the shoulders, Europe not only ensured that her daughter was properly gowned as befit the breeding of an ambitious merchant family but also that she was fair lavished in oils and treatments for her skin and hair so as to not look worn by the ravages of wind and sea spray by the time they reached their destination.
Allowing for one night to be docked within the harbours of Israel, for the sake of better appearances on both their parts, it was not until the morning after their arrival in Judea that a message was sent to the home of Commander Alexios that they had docked in his inhabited, if not native, kingdom. During the wait for such a response, Hypatia was treated to a swath of beauty regimes that had her feeling pampered, then plied with too much attention for her liking and then finally aching in the neck and turned into a thorough spectacle.
Her hair was curled into tight ringlets of shining fawn, the light catching strands of gold and copper among the locks. Her face was made up carefully, the oils of the journey ensuring there was not a dry spot upon her nubile features. Her skin was worked into the consistency and image of fresh cream and her eyes darkened with definition to show them to their best advantage.
Whilst it had been some years since Hypatia was of marriable age and this was not a routine she was unfamiliar with, it was still taking her some adjusting to the treatment of her aesthetics prior to puberty. A girl unblessed with even growth, Hypatia had been a gangly little thing, with limbs too long, eyes too big and hair as unruly as it came. As she grew, however, everything fell into proportion with her doe-eyes and rosebud mouth now signs of fertile womanhood over infantile sweetness. Which was only to her credit for the rest of her was waiflike and delicate. Elegant in the extreme but hardly an Aphrodite figure ready for procreation.
It was to this that her mother lamented in regular interludes throughout her dressing, flatly refusing to allow her a chiton over a peplos (for such a design hid the limited curves of her chest) and insisted on a himation design that would wrap around the hips in order to accentuate what was not wholly there.
By the time the response to their arrival had arrived, Hypatia was both entirely ready to finish such preparation and attend upon their host, while equally nervous now for all the efforts her mother had made, as if she were meeting a king or God themselves.
Dressed in a fine, silken peplos the colour of pearl and a dusty rose himation that wrapped over one shoulder and then fastened around the hips before trailing to the floor her the back of her heels, Hypatia was given elegance by her upbringing and wealth in her jewels. Gold hang from her neck, at the cuffs on each wrist and in the fibulae that held the yards of pink gossamer at shoulder and hip. Cords of gold had been woven into her hair and the lightest drops of rose quartz hung from each lobe, dancing between the tips of her curls where they had been fastened up upon her head. Her sandals were of equally finely worked gold thread and were so thin that they appeared almost invisible to the naked eye with the elegant speed of her steps and the way in which her skirts hid her toes more often than they revealed them.
Given her mother's supreme efforts on her appearance; how every lock shined, how every piece of exposed skin glowed with smoothness thanks to a harsh scrubbing the night before, Hypatia was infinitely careful to walk with the appropriate posture, grace and step that Europa would expect from all of her daughters. Whilst she was not her else sister Eurydice - a woman apparently gifted from birth with all the appropriate womanly talents - Hypatia felt did not fall particularly short of expectation in getting from the ship to the closed carriage that awaited them on the docks. For, men and dock workers alike stood to watch she and her mother pass by with a staring eye.
The fact that they were simply staring because their appearances were strange and foreign did not occur to Hypatia. She simply took their looks as a confirmation of the radiance her mother had worked so hard to create upon her mouldable clay.
The carriage that had been sent came with a message from the Commander that he begged the forgiveness of Europe of Archarist and her daughter Hypatia but that matters in the barracks and among his soldiers had him detained for the morning but that he would send the duly appeared carriage to fetch them to his residence and meet them there upon their arrival.
'An important man,' Europe had said upon receipt of the note. 'does not always realise the importance of a wife. It will be your task to make that clear to him Hypatia...'
"Yes, Mama." Hypatia answered with a simply nod, but her response was found lacking if the shrewd look she received was anything to go by. She wracked her mind for a different, more satisfactory response. "Of course, Mother." This was given a stiff nod and stilted smile before the two women and their guardsman escort were permitted down the gangway from the ship, across the street and into the carriage, where Hypatia was quite thankful to get out of the sun.
As they were directed and taken to the residence of Commander Alexios of Argothia, Hypatia gave little consideration at first to the man that they were meeting. Instead, her curiosity was gripped by the streets and the people that flocked them.
"How peculiar that they wear such layers in such heat, Mama." Hypatia commented, as she leant to view the pedestrians from the window.
'The Hebrews are strange and uneducated, daughter.' Europa explained simply. 'Let it be a warning against socialising with them rather than a source of curiosity. Whilst we are in Judea, we are still Greek. Your intended is Greek, as will be his officers, friends and family. Do not trouble yourself with trying to understand the ways of the natives. You will not require such understanding.'
And that was the matter settled.
Unable to lean forward any longer to gaze at the Judeans, their homes and their way of life, without the stern and appraising look of her mother interfering, Hypatia was left with little more to ponder on than the reason of their visit, which was possibly for the best.
For, besides attempting to learn some Hebrew phrases and asking her brother for further information on the ranks of the military so that she might better understand the rank and role of a 'Commander', Hypatia's mind had veered away from any strong thought upon her future as his potential wife.
For, it was all perfectly normal that this was how her life would go. Ever since she was young, Hypatia had heard her parents speak of Eurydice's changes of marriage, how she and her sisters would be expected to follow suit. How marriage was the sole way in which any young woman could bring glory, connection, wealth or honour to her family. Ergo, Hypatia had always known that she would be married as soon as she was able to. And now, at the age of sixteen, she was of a perfectly acceptable age to do just that.
When she thought of Commander Alexios at all in the last few weeks since the arrangements had started to unfold between her family, her brother's military connections, and that of the Commander's family, Hypatia had simply assumed that, as a widower, the Commander Alexios would know how to be a good husband, so would allow her to muddle through as a learning wife. Provided that man was not grossly ugly or vulgar in some way, she could be content with whatever was presented to her. If it pleased her family so, why should it not please her?
When the carriage pulled through a large archway, it became immediately clear to Hypatia that they had moved into the Greek portion of Israel. The shouts, hollers and chatter that seeped in through the window were now calls that she understood rather than a melodic gibberish she had yet to learn. Most of the voices here were also male instead of the diverse mix they had left behind them. This was, no doubt, the Greek area used by the male soldiers of Taengea. The home to the Commander would be here somewhere, likely the largest and wealthiest of the homes.
At least, that was what her mother had assured her.
Being given a stern eye, Hypatia resisted the urge to lean her head out of the window and witness the area in which she might soon live and, instead, remained comported and delicately refined in her seat, staying away from the window and adjusting her dress to ensure that nothing was out of place.
When the carriage came to a complete stop, Hypatia looked to Europa for guidance, the woman not stepping down from the vehicle until their Greek guardsmen stepped forwards to offer the aid of his hand. Hypatia waited her turn and was offered a similar aid from a soldier she did not know - a personal home guard to the Commander perhaps?
Upon her gilded feet touching the ground and the sun warming her face, Hypatia smiled, her features appearing almost cherubic as she glanced around to meet the gaze of a powerfully large man approaching their arrival with purpose...