“Wait here. I’ll be back in a moment,” Acus said, then hustled off.
“This isn’t going badly,” Thermiandra commented.
“There seem to be a lot of Persian decorations here,” Pelephon said.
“I’m not convinced that we’re going to get a friendly greeting,” Heliodas said.
“I don’t think that it matters whether they like our message,” Thermiandra said. “It doesn’t change what’s coming their way.”
“You’ve met this man before,” Pelephon said to Thermiandra. “Does he seem like someone who will handle this well, or will he challenge Alexander’s rule?”
“I don’t know,” Thermiandra said. “I met him in the palace of Cyme three or four years ago. The occasion was little more than a meeting between the leaders of two cities. I doubt he’ll even remember me.”
“I thought you said your father met him many times,” Pelephon said.
“He did, but I wasn’t there with him for most of those.”
Acus returned to the room, and Heliodas noticed that his breathing was heavy and he seemed somewhat winded. He motioned for the guards to approach. “King Syrpax, the great ruler of Ephesos, will see you now. Leave your weapons with the guards.”
The trio unstrapped swords, daggers, bows and arrows, and handed them to the guard, who wordlessly accepted them. Heliodas had accompanied Demosthenes on enough diplomatic meetings that he was accustomed to handing over his weapons when meeting with important individuals on their property. It was a sign of trust and non-aggression. Heliodas and his fellow soldiers had never experienced any difficulty retrieving them when they left. It was an assumed contract, demonstrating that he would not attack. The king, in turn, would allow them to leave in peace afterwards. Unfortunately, the arbiter of the contract was their host, so getting into this situation implied a great deal of trust. It was always possible that this trust was misplaced, and they would find themselves defenseless against a hostile force.
“Follow me,” Acus said. The trio followed him through a series of hallways and rooms, and eventually into a wide hallway. He turned left through a small door, ignoring the large double doors at the end of the hallway and into a long room with a high ceiling.
Guards lined the walls, and a high throne dominated the opposite end of the room. Purple silk pleated curtains hung from the ceiling and were tied back, leaving gaps which is where the guards stood.
King Syrpax sat upon the throne, and to Heliodas, he looked more Persian than any man he’d seen in the polis. He had dusky skin, dark hair, a thin mustache, and a narrow strip of hair that ran from his lower lip down to his chin. He wore a red silk robe, but over that was a leather cuirass that looked like a more decorated version of the style worn by the rank and file of the Persian army.
Syrpax cocked his head and fixed the trio with a sly glare. To Heliodas, his eyes seemed almost feline. “Greetings… I’d ask what you’re doing in my fair polis, but I suspect that I already have an idea.”
“We bring a message from Alexander the Third, King of Macedonia,” Heliodas said.
Syrpax was silent for a moment, giving them an appraising look. He pointed to Thermiandra. “I know you.”
“She’s my wife and I’m escorting her back to Athens,” Heliodas said quickly. He knew that if the king were able to remember where he had met her, he may not believe the story. He was beginning to regret announcing Thermiandra as his wife. What had seemed a simple way to explain her presence now might be their undoing.
“Speak, child. Is this true?”
“It is, King,” Thermiandra stated.
Syrpax was silent for a moment, continuing to stare at Thermiandra. “Deliver your message.”
Heliodas untied the leather thong on his belt and brought out the scroll Alexander had given him. He unrolled the parchment, and began reading. “Know, oh mighty lord of Great Ephesos, that the Persian Empire’s hold on your polis has at last been released. My army met the western force of the Persian Empire on the Granicus River and defeated it. Make no mistake, it was an undisputable rout. My victory was absolute. I am hereby absorbing Ephesos into Macedonia. I will allow you to continue ruling your polis as you’ve done until now, but be aware that you do so by my will. My army and I will arrive at your fair polis in one, maybe two weeks. I trust that you and your people will be prepared for our arrival.” Heliodas paused. “Your lord, Alexander of Macedonia.”
Syrpax closed his eyes and shook his head slowly. “How many soldiers?”
“Over forty thousand,” Heliodas said.
“My army cannot resist that,” Syrpax said. “And so we will not. But understand that I remain unconvinced that Persia will not retake this land. When they do, we will not defend Macedonia’s claim to this polis.”
“That is fair,” Heliodas said. “I’ve done my duty by delivering the message. What comes next is between you and Alexander.”
“Very well…” Syrpax said. “But our business is not yet complete.”
Heliodas said nothing, unsure of what the king would want from them.
“One of the reasons I’ve been able to run a polis as large as Ephesos for so long is that I’m very good with people. I understand what motivates them, I listen to their needs...” He stared at Thermiandra. “I remember them. We have definitely met before, haven’t we, First Daughter of Cyme?”
Heliodas said nothing, but he suddenly felt naked without his spatha.
“Now tell me, why would you find yourself married to a soldier? Isn’t that quite beneath your station?” Syrpax asked. “I imagine that your father is very worried about you right now.”
“My King,” Heliodas said, “she is my wife. We met in Ilion and were married days later. She is not who you think she is.”
Syrpax said nothing, but cocked his head to the side as he stared at Thermiandra with his almost feline gaze.
“Forgive us,” Thermiandra said. “We felt that it would be easier to explain my presence by pretending that I’m married to this soldier. You are right. I am Thermiandra, First Daughter of Cyme. I’m on a diplomatic mission to Athens to pledge our support to the Delian League.”
Syrpax considered this for a moment, then gave her a quizzical look. “You’re being more truthful with me than you were before, but I think that you’re still hiding something. Several days ago, a rider from Cyme arrived on horse and begged me to watch for you. He said that you had been stolen from the palace and the king was worried for your safety.”
“That isn’t true!” Thermiandra objected. “I left of my own will. Besides, I’m the adopted daughter of the king. He has no true hold on me.”
“Nevertheless,” Syrpax said, “I gave the rider my word that if I saw you, I would keep you safe until you could be returned to your polis.”
“I am safe,” Thermiandra insisted. “With these men, I am safe.”
“So you say,” said Syrpax, “but I’ve heard tales of people who grow to fear… or love… their captors so much that they would lie for them. I cannot tell what is truly happening here, but I can say that I would be negligent if I failed to keep you safe until you can be returned to your own people.”
“That is unnecess…” Thermiandra started to protest.
“Guards! Show her to a room in the west tower, and be sure that she is not allowed to run away!” Syrpax barked.
The four guards nearest Syrpax moved from the walls and approached Thermiandra.
“No, you can’t do this!” Heliodas bellowed. His heart pumped as he fought back the urge to confront the guards with his bare hands.
One of the men unsheathed his sword and found Heliodas’ throat with its sharpened tip. “Stand down or this will be painful,” the guard said.
Heliodas looked to Pelephon, who remained calm. “Do as he says,” his friend said. “If need be, we wait until Alexander arrives and get her back then.”
“She could be dead by then, or on her way back to Cyme,” Heliodas protested.
“The First Daug
hter of Cyme will not be harmed. I promise you,” Syrpax said. “In fact, she should find her stay somewhat enjoyable. The two of you are free to leave, provided that you don’t attempt any heroics on her behalf. Trust me when I say that this will benefit her in the end.”
Heliodas watched as the guards clapped manacles on Thermiandra’s wrists and started leading her away. He suddenly felt an unexpected panic wash over him. “Thermiandra, I…”
“I know,” was all she said as they led her out of the throne room.
“The two of you are free to go,” said Syrpax.
“Wait. There’s something you should know before we leave,” Heliodas said.
Chapter 14
Archetus
I grow bored with this conversation,” Syrpax said. “Be fast, or I may treat you to the hospitality of the inside of a cell.”
“I mean no disrespect,” Heliodas said, “but Thermiandra and I are caught up in matters that go beyond mortal concerns.”
“You’ll have to forgive me, young soldier, but you cannot expect me to give this further consideration unless you speak plainly.”
Heliodas adjusted his shoulder, moving it out from under his armor, and then pulled back the sleeve of the chiton he wore underneath, revealing the birthmark of the bull. “Have you ever seen that symbol before?”
Syrpax studied the birthmark for a moment, then frowned. “I have. You bear the mark of the bull.”
“So you know what it means,” Heliodas said.
“It’s commonly accepted as the mark of Zeus. As a follower of Ahura Mazda, I place no faith in your collection of flawed gods.”
“But you cannot deny that Zeus is widely worshiped here, even now, after two hundred years of Persian rule,” Heliodas said.
“Why should this matter to me?” Syrpax said, his boredom with the con- versation becoming more evident.
“I may have been marked at birth with the sign of the bull, but I do not worship the father of the gods either. My mother told me that he was my father, but I don’t accept that claim,” Heliodas said.
“So why mention it?” Syrpax asked.
“Because Thermiandra does believe it. She left Cyme after a vision that she believed was granted to her by Athena. She went to the banks of the Granicus and found me more than half dead from an injury amidst a field of corpses. She cared for me until I had recovered enough to travel.”
“Touching,” Syrpax said.
“She believes that something important is going to happen in Athens, and after what I’ve seen, I put more faith in her vision than I put in this mark on my arm. If you let her go, I’ll ensure that she returns to Cyme unharmed. Her father doesn’t need to find out that she was ever here. I’m willing to do anything for you to release her. Just name the price.”
Syrpax raised his eyebrows. “You ask a great deal. If you are what you claim, you may be able to help me with a problem.”
“What sort of problem?” Heliodas asked.
“There is a small group of cultists here in Ephesos that have created a situation for me. Titan worshipers…” Syrpax said, making a sour face. “I personally don’t care what gods people pray to, but this group has become a serious political problem for me.”
“How so?” Heliodas asked.
“Over half the people of Ephesos still follow the gods of Mount Olympus. Titan worship is an… anathema to them. They come to me with outlandish tales of strange magic, and even stranger beasts that they summon. I’m sure that it’s all built on superstition, yet I appear weak in their eyes if I fail to do anything about it. I’ve sent the guards out to find them, but they haven’t been able to uncover them.”
“So what would you have me do?” Heliodas asked.
“I want you to bring me their leader… I know nothing about him, other than that he calls himself Archetus. Bring him to me and I’ll be able to deal with the cult. In exchange, I’ll return Thermiandra to you,” Syrpax said.
“And what assurance do we have that you’re going to keep your end of the bargain?” Pelephon asked.
Syrpax laughed. “You have no assurance other than my word as the king of Ephesos. You’ll have to decide on your own whether to place trust in it.”
“We don’t have to listen to this,” the big Macedonian said. “Alexander’s army is going to come through soon enough. All we need to do is tell him that you’ve taken Thermiandra and he could depose you with a word.”
“And then he’d have to worry about the people who are loyal to me. No, Alexander is a conqueror. Conquerors don’t want to get caught up in provincial affairs. That’s the entire reason that he’s willing to allow me to remain on the throne in this polis rather than replacing me with someone he handpicks himself.”
Heliodas had to admit that he was probably right about Alexander. And although he had spent time with the Macedonian king, he didn’t know how far he would go to help a soldier he’d already discharged from the army. If given proper time for consideration, it was just as likely that he would see things in the same light as Syrpax and return Thermiandra to Cyme.
“I don’t think that we have a choice but to trust him,” Heliodas said. “I’ll find this Archetus, and when I do, I’ll bring him back here and exchange him for Thermiandra.”
“Then be quick, son of Zeus, for if I do not have Archetus in custody soon, I may have no choice but to turn Thermiandra over to her father in Cyme. Acus will see you out.”
The portly administrator politely led them to the door, returned their weapons to them, and deposited them outside at the portico pillars.
“That son of a whore!” Heliodas swore, drawing glares from the guards stationed here.
“I don’t like this,” the blond Macedonian said. “I don’t even know where to start looking for this Archetus person.”
“Your strength is tracking and hunting in the wilderness. I know cities,” Heliodas said. “I’ll track him down, if he’s even here.”
“Where do we start?” Pelephon asked.
“I’m going to start at the watering holes, where tongues wag the most,” Heliodas said, trying to calm his emotions. While his first instinct was to sneak into the palace, find Thermiandra, and cut down everyone who stood in his way, including Syrpax himself, he knew that doing that would be suicide.
“What of the other things Syrpax mentioned, about strange magics?” Pelephon asked.
Heliodas shrugged. “How many cults to minor gods are there that make the same claims? They spread this information to scare people.”
“But the titans aren’t minor gods,” Pelephon said. “People already fear them. They gave birth to the gods.”
“…which is why that fear strikes me as ridiculous. The gods have held the power for ages. The Titans might have been the first, but if we are to believe the stories, they were defeated by Zeus and are now cast out. I don’t fear their magic.”
“You, my friend, don’t even believe in the gods, despite all the evidence to the contrary. I shouldn’t be surprised that this doesn’t frighten you.”
“No gods of any stripe frighten me. I’ve been blaspheming them my entire life and no horrible fate has befallen me. Our gods are not known to be the forgiving sort either, so why haven’t I been transformed into a slug, or been forced to fall in love with a monster?” Heliodas almost laughed at the ridiculousness of it, but the thought of Thermiandra and her current predicament made his guts feel like they were twisting.
Thermiandra paced the room. It was nice, as far as prisons went. There was a comfortable bed, a couch, and even a bath in a connected room. Her door was unlocked, and her window had no bars preventing her from escaping. She could leave at any time, if not for the guards posted outside the door, who were supposed to be there to see to her every need. The long drop outside her window to the courtyard below was another consideration.
Leaving through the door seemed futile. There was no way she would be able to overpower the guards, but they wouldn’t hesitate to overpower her if she were to s
imply announce that she was leaving. She considered fashioning a rope and leaving through the window. The idea was not without merit, for they had left her three blankets on the bed. If she tied them together, she could probably make it halfway down the tower. That would still leave a drop that would likely injure or kill her. Even if she did make it down, the courtyard was patrolled by guards.
With escape seeming unlikely, Thermiandra had to admit that this was the finest living conditions she’d experienced since leaving Cyme. The bed was comfortable, luxurious in fact. The guards had already offered to fetch her some hot water for a bath, should she desire one. She was free to indulge in the luxuries of the place, provided that she went nowhere. She had to admit that she’d spent too long out in the hot sun, and was covered with dust and debris from the countryside. She could use a bath and a change of clothing.
Regardless of how badly her body longed for the luxuries of the palace, she was worried for Heliodas. While Syrpax had seemed a reasonable man when she had briefly met him years ago, she now realized that he was clearly scheming and self- serving. She didn’t believe for a moment that he’d had her imprisoned to keep her safe so she could be returned to her family. Was it possible that he knew something about her supposed connection to the Pearls of Atlantis? Was it something else?
Escape aside, she couldn’t help but think about Heliodas. Despite his claims to the contrary, she was certain that he was truly the son of Zeus. She’d known from the moment she saw him lying, bleeding on the battlefield. It was almost as though she recognized him without having seen him before. Another gift from Athena, she supposed.
Echoes of Olympus (The Atheniad Book 1) Page 17
