by Colm Toibin
The guard and he worked out a plan, the guard having secured a key to one of the rooms beyond the kitchens that had a side entrance, from which they both could leave when there was no moon.
*
Two nights later, Orestes was awake and ready when the guard came into his room.
Outside, they stood still for some time so that their eyes would become accustomed to the dark. They walked away from the palace, veering to the side of the sunken garden towards the empty spaces beyond. Without speaking, they crossed the dried-up stream.
When they came to the place beneath which the guard said that the men were held, they scrambled with their hands to find the hard surface of a trapdoor under the layer of earth. When they found the trapdoor, they pulled it up to find a rank smell coming from below, not just of soil and rotting undergrowth, but of human waste.
Orestes made his way down steps into the dark. When he reached a clay floor, he called the names of the two kidnapped men. But he heard nothing at first, no voice.
When he finally heard a groan, he said his own name and Leander’s name, adding that he had come to release them. He heard someone whisper the name ‘Mitros’. Trying to locate the sound, he explored the underground space while not losing his bearings. Even though there was no light, he began to sense where the two men were. When he stretched out his hands, he was caught by another pair of hands that felt strong and bony, intent on holding on to him.
‘You’ll have to help me lift him up,’ a voice said, a voice that sounded almost in control.
He and the guard lifted the man Orestes guessed was Mitros to his feet and then guided him across the floor to the steps. They had to push Mitros up step by step and hold him in case he fell back. He was breathless and had no strength. As they neared the surface, Orestes edged by him and Mitros winced with pain; he was being crushed against the side of the opening. Orestes pulled him up by the wrists and helped him to stand as the other man, whom he knew as Theodotus, emerged.
They made their way slowly out of the palace grounds and through the graveyard, with Mitros, held between Orestes and the guard, muttering to himself and moaning.
Compared to the darkness of the underground prison, the night itself seemed almost bright. When they had passed the first house at a turning of the lane, the guard motioned to Orestes to stop. Cobon was standing against a wall, waiting. The guard said he would go back to the palace, leaving Orestes and Cobon to take the two men to their hiding place.
Moving forward, they met no one. Orestes did not know if guards were usually placed in these lanes throughout the night, but he imagined that the lanes were closely watched. In the fastness of the palace, he had presumed that the immediate hinterland, where so much potential danger lay, was vigilantly controlled, especially at night. But there was no one now. The guard had been right, and this meant, Orestes realized, that Leander and his associates must have considerable secret support among the guards and that security had become lax in the absence of Aegisthus.
Thus they were able to aim towards their destination without anyone stopping them. As far as Orestes could discern, no one even saw them passing. The house was small and nondescript. The door was opened by a woman who ushered them inside. Soon, she brought them food and drink and accompanied Mitros to an inner room so that he could lie down.
Orestes was aware that he would have to leave soon to make his way back to the palace before the dawn. If he could help it, he did not want to have to explain to his mother or Electra what he had done.
‘Where is Leander?’ Theodotus asked.
‘He’s not here,’ Cobon said.
‘Where is he?’
‘He has gone to free his uncles. There is a revolt,’ Cobon said.
‘Where is Mitros, the boy?’ Theodotus asked, looking at Orestes.
‘He is dead,’ Orestes whispered. ‘He died before we returned.’
Theodotus sighed.
‘Do not tell his father,’ he said. ‘His father has been living only so that he could see his son.’
‘I must tell him,’ Orestes said. ‘I must tell him that Mitros was happy as he died.’
‘No one is happy as they die,’ Theodotus said. ‘His father will not live long. You must tell him that his son returned with you and with Leander and then left with Leander again, but will soon come back. You must make him believe that it is true.’
Orestes did not move. He wished that he could leave now.
‘You must go to him immediately. He is waiting and that is what he is waiting for, and when his family come you must tell them what you have done so that they will say the same.’
‘His family?’ Orestes asked, looking at Cobon.
‘Someone must go and tell Mitros’ family that he has been freed,’ Theodotus said.
‘There is no family,’ Cobon said quickly. ‘His house was razed to the ground. They say that his family were all killed and they are buried there. We thought he was buried with them. He must have been taken before they were killed.’
Theodotus gasped and bowed his head.
‘He will not live long. He should be told that his son was released and has gone with Leander and he should be told also that his wife and his other sons and his daughters fled when he was captured and are some distance from here.’
‘He’ll ask to see them,’ Cobon said.
‘Tell him that when it is safe they will come.’
‘But what if he lives?’ Cobon asked.
‘I do not know what we will do if he lives,’ Theodotus replied.
They heard low groans coming from the room where Mitros was.
‘Go to him now,’ Theodotus said.
Mitros, when Orestes came into the room, was breathing with great difficulty. He reached out, trying to find Orestes’ hand.
‘Is he safe, my son?’ Mitros asked.
‘Yes,’ Orestes replied. ‘We escaped from where they held us.’
‘And what happened then?’
‘We found a house by the edge of the sea. There was an old woman who looked after us. She loved your son the most.’
Mitros shivered and appeared to smile for a moment. He tried to sit up.
‘Where is your mother?’ he asked.
‘She is in the palace,’ Orestes said.
‘Sleeping,’ Mitros said, ‘as only the wicked sleep.’
Orestes thought for a moment that he was making a joke.
‘All of the trouble starts with her,’ Mitros went on, still trying to sit up, pushing Orestes away when he tried to help.
‘She ordered the kidnappings,’ he continued, ‘so she could frighten us. And then she killed Agamemnon, your father, killed him with her own hand, and left his body to rot in front of the palace. She made us pass his body as he lay unburied.’
‘My mother did not kill my father, she –’ Orestes began.
‘It was done by your mother with her own hand,’ Mitros interrupted.
His tone was flat and factual and almost weary. It was clear that he believed that he was speaking the truth.
‘Was Aegisthus with her?’
‘Aegisthus is no one,’ Mitros said. ‘She did the killing. All the killing. All of it.’
He was sitting up fully now and had gripped one of Orestes’ wrists.
‘But she did not kill Iphigenia –’ Orestes began again.
‘The gods demanded that Iphigenia be sacrificed,’ Mitros said. ‘It was the hardest choice. The gods can be hard.’
‘But it was not my mother,’ Orestes said. ‘It was done by my father.’
‘That is right. It was not your mother,’ Mitros said.
For a moment, there was silence. Orestes listened to make sure that Mitros was still breathing.
‘And my son is safe?’ Mitros eventually asked.
‘Yes,’ Orestes said. ‘He is with Leander. He will return soon.’
He could feel Mitros’ gaze on him in the half-light offered by the small lamp in the room.
‘Are you sure
that it was my mother that killed my father?’ he asked Mitros.
‘Yes. It was her knife.’
‘Does anyone else know?’
‘Everyone knows.’
Mitros released his grip on his wrist and instead reached out for Orestes’ hand and held it. And then he began to sob.
‘My family, the boys and girls . . .’ he began.
‘They are all fine,’ Orestes said, ‘and they’ll come here when it’s safe.’
‘Your mother killed them,’ Mitros said. ‘My wife, the boys, the girls. They were killed by her men as I watched. She gave the orders for that.’
Orestes was ready to contradict him, to tell him again that he would see them soon, but Mitros was not listening. He was speaking as though to himself.
‘I heard their cries as they died,’ Mitros said. ‘And then they took me away.’
In all their time buried under the ground together, Orestes realized, Mitros must not have told Theodotus that he had witnessed his family being killed. They must not have spoken about this.
‘But your son is alive,’ Orestes said softly.
‘Yes, yes,’ the old man replied in a tone of sadness and resignation.
Orestes was not sure that Mitros believed him.
‘Wait,’ Mitros said, ‘and move close.’
Orestes knelt down by the bed.
‘Your mother murdered your father,’ Mitros whispered. ‘She lured him into the palace. She had the knife ready once they were close. It was her plan. She wanted his power. I swear on my children that this is the truth. And there is only one, one alone, who can revenge what she did, who can revenge that killing and the other killings, and that is you. You are the one. That is why the gods have spared you and sent you back. That is why you are here so I can tell you this. Now, it is your duty as the son of Agamemnon to revenge his murder.’
He put his hand gently on Orestes’ head and left it there as his breathing became stronger and more even.
When Cobon came to say that he wanted Orestes to leave now, he said that he would walk with him through the lanes.
‘No, I will go alone,’ Orestes said.
He returned as the first rays of the dawn appeared. Slipping in by the door beyond the kitchens, he moved stealthily through the lower corridors and then up the smaller set of stairs to the main corridor.
In his room, he thought about his mother and how she had tried to entice him to follow her and Aegisthus and learn about power and authority under their guidance. He could have become one of them.
He felt a surge of rage against her and also against Aegisthus, who had taken the place of his father and strutted in the palace as though he had a right to rule. As he went over what had happened, however, it was the figure of his mother alone that stayed with him. Thinking about her gave him a sort of strength. She was the one in control. As morning noises began, he saw her as the one who had taken power. The revenge could be against Aegisthus too, but it would first have to be against her.
He almost smiled when he thought that he would not need to consult Leander or Electra or anyone. But then he saw that he would need Electra’s support. He would need to move his sister close to him. He could not work on his own.
As the morning went on, however, he wondered about what Mitros had told him. The man had seemed so certain when he spoke. It had sounded so true. Yet Mitros had suffered so much. It might have been something that he had imagined and then begun to believe.
Surely Electra, Orestes thought, would have told him as soon as he returned if it were his mother who had killed his father. Electra was in the room when his mother had given her account of his father’s murder. Surely she would have given some indication if his mother were not telling the truth.
As he puzzled over what he should believe, he decided that he would tell Electra what Mitros had said and then watch her response. He wished that Leander were with him so that he could ask him what to do.
*
In the afternoon, as he and his mother were talking, his mother leaned towards him affectionately.
‘Orestes,’ she said, ‘I need to take you into my confidence. As you know, there has been a revolt and Aegisthus has been involved in quelling it. But these rebels are more determined than the others who came before. They do not stay in the same place. They disappear and then reappear even stronger. Aegisthus has many loyal supporters. He is a brave warrior, but he is not a military leader as your father was. And his supporters are rough. They know how to attack fiercely. But they are bandits before they are anything.’
She stood up and walked around the room.
‘Orestes, Aegisthus has brought me great trouble. I need you to know that. I can tell that to you as to no one else.’
Orestes watched her as she was about to say something more and then stopped. Suddenly, she came towards him and held him by the shoulders.
‘This revolt is more determined and serious than anything we have known. All I have now is you. I trust you and I trust Dinos, who is a warrior as cunning as your father was. I trust no one else. I have had Dinos watched and shadowed and am as sure of his loyalty as I am of anyone’s. I want to send you to him. I cannot afford to lose you. For those who are leading the revolt, you are the prize. No one cares about me or about Electra. It is you they will come to capture. Therefore you cannot be here. We are vulnerable here.’
Orestes looked at her as she finished. For one second, he was sure that he was being sent away because his mother had discovered what he had done the previous night. But then, as she spoke to him in greater detail of how much protection he would have as he moved across the countryside, he was less certain. By the end of the conversation, when it was agreed that he and his mother would meet the next day to discuss safety with the men who would be his bodyguards on the journey, he merely knew that he was being sent away, but could not decide whether it was because he had displeased his mother or whether she genuinely wished to protect him.
When he went to Electra’s room, she expressed astonishment.
‘Dinos’ wife and his children were all killed in a revolt,’ she said. ‘He put it down with immense ferocity. But it remains a most dangerous place. And my mother wants to send you there?’
Orestes nodded.
‘She says she trusts Dinos,’ he said.
‘I’m sure she admires him enormously,’ Electra said.
‘She says that the revolt is serious.’
‘It’s also spreading. Aegisthus is putting down only one of the revolts. He won’t be able to put down all of them. They will be waiting for him. She has sent him to his death.’
‘Who decided that he should go?’ Orestes asked.
‘She made him feel that since he is a warrior, then he would have to go. She left him no choice. She schemed so that he would go. Nothing happens without her. It is she who decides.’
‘On the day when my father came back from the war,’ Orestes asked, ‘did my mother also decide –’
‘She is all charm and sweetness since you returned, isn’t she?’ Electra interrupted.
‘Why don’t you answer me? When my father came back, did my mother decide what happened?’
‘Why don’t you ask her? You spend plenty of time with her.’
‘If I ask her if it was she who killed my father, will she answer me?’
‘Who do you think killed your father?’ Electra asked.
‘Is that a question?’ he replied.
Electra moved some flowers around in a vase.
‘If it is, I myself would like to hear my mother’s answer,’ she said.
‘I would like to hear yours,’ Orestes said.
‘Did Theodotus and Mitros not tell you?’ she asked.
‘What do you mean?’
‘When you rescued them?’
‘How do you know I rescued them?’
She carried the vase to a table nearer the door.
‘This is a house of whispers,’ she said.
‘Does my mother
know that I rescued them?’
‘Why don’t you ask her that too? But not just now, as she and I are due a walk in the garden.’
‘Who told you about the rescue?’
‘It doesn’t matter who told me. What matters is that you must not meddle in things that are beyond you.’
‘Leander is my friend. Theodotus is his grandfather.’
‘Leander is leading one of the revolts,’ Electra said. ‘He is, unless he is victorious, not your friend. He is your enemy.’
‘He has gone to free his uncles, his mother’s brothers. They were kidnapped when I was kidnapped. You must have seen me being taken away.’
‘I was being held in the dungeon at that time,’ Electra said.
She was standing now with her back to the door.
‘Who held you?’
‘Why don’t you ask your mother that too?’
‘I am asking you.’
‘You must learn to listen. I notice you are sometimes listening outside the room where I am at night. But you don’t hear anything, do you?’
‘You were in the palace when my father was killed?’
‘Yes, I was. Indeed, I was. I have told you that I was in the dungeon.’
‘So you saw nothing?’
‘There was a small window in my cell. I saw a chink of light.’
‘So you don’t know – ?’
‘Of course I know,’ Electra interrupted. ‘I know everything!’
‘And you won’t tell me?’
‘I’ll tell you when I can. Now, I must go and walk in the garden with my mother and you must return to your room.’
*
That night, when the guard appeared, he whispered: ‘You must go to Leander’s house. As soon as the palace is busy in the morning, you must go there.’
‘Who has requested this?’ Orestes asked.
‘It is urgent,’ the guard said.
‘My sister knows that I helped rescue Theodotus and Mitros.’
‘You were seen,’ the guard said. ‘And you’ll be seen going to Leander’s too. But this is more important than anything.’
‘Has Cobon asked to see me?’
‘I don’t know. My message is simply that when the sun is in the sky, you must go there.’
