Trying War

by S. D. Gentill

  The Skyrothian herders were armed only with their staves but they entered the fray nevertheless. Some of the riders carried torches now and in the flicker of moving light they caught glimpses of the intruders.

  It was the girth of the deposed king of Athens more than his face which made him recognisable—an obese wheezing figure in full armour on the back of the large steed whose misfortune it was to bear such a burden. Theseus’ men charged at Lycon and Cadmus. Theseus himself bore down on Machaon, who braced to engage him in combat. But the Athenian did not slow as he galloped his horse within a handspan of the Herdsman’s steed. Hero screamed. Machaon felt the grasp of her arms being torn from his waist and, as he turned, he saw his sister in the hefty embrace of Theseus who urged his beleaguered steed into the trees.

  Almost simultaneously the forces Theseus had brought with him broke away and fled.

  The sons of Agelaus did not hesitate to draw breath as they kicked their own animals into pursuit.

  Machaon gained first. Theseus’ horse, labouring valiantly under the obscene weight it bore, had started to lag slightly behind the steeds of his men.

  Still several lengths behind, Machaon stood carefully, balancing and crouched on the back of his galloping mount. Theseus’ eyes were focussed ahead, on escape, and so when Machaon leapt, the Athenian was caught unawares. In midair the Herdsman seemed to rip the man from his steed onto the ground. As he fell Theseus released his hold on Hero and she sprang away from the grapple of limbs and blades. The men of Theseus now returned, but they waited. Perhaps they had confidence in their famous leader, perhaps they believed his tales of magnificence, or perhaps they simply wished to see him humbled. It was hard to know.

  The moon had emerged from behind inky cloud and bathed the ground in cold colourless light.

  Theseus had bared his sword, but Machaon had the hand that held it pinned to the ground. Machaon’s other arm was pressed against the pudgy folds of the Athenian’s neck. His eyes burned yellow and his lip curled into a snarl.

  Theseus gasped, the sweat beading on the wide expanse of his brow. “Stop. I command you.”

  Cadmus slipped off his horse. “Mac,” he said approaching carefully.

  Machaon glanced at him, almost without recognition. His gaze was savage once again. When he spoke his voice was harsh, ragged. “He tried to steal our sister.”

  “He did not succeed, Mac. Hero is fine.” Cadmus was not sure why he was trying to save Theseus—his brother had no weapon, but at that moment Machaon looked like he might tear Theseus limb from limb.

  Having made a pact with Pirithous that they would both marry daughters of Zeus, Theseus, with the help of Pirithous, stole Helen from Sparta for himself, when she was twelve years old.

  Apollodorus, The Library

  BOOK XVII

  “I WAS MERELY WOOING THE girl—it is our custom,” Theseus choked under the pressure of Machaon’s arm. “It is how all my wives were won.”

  Machaon turned back to him with a gaze that spoke of murder.

  “Mac,” Cadmus said again. “We are defenders. Hero is safe.”

  “She’ll be safer if he’s dead.”

  “Come on, Mac.” Lycon put his hand on his brother’s shoulder.

  Machaon stiffened as if the touch was foreign and threatening.

  “Stop or you will feel the wrath of the slayer of the Minotaur,” Theseus said weakly. “I will spare you if you desist.”

  “I am not some helpless monster trapped in a labyrinth,” Machaon growled.

  “He was not helpless,” Theseus rasped desperately. “I tell you he was alive!”

  “Enough!” Hero clasped Machaon’s face and turned it so that he looked into her eyes and nowhere else. For a moment her courage flailed as she saw the violence in the yellow orbs, but she would not retreat in fear. This was Machaon. “Let him go, Mac.”

  There was struggle in Machaon’s face, but his sister’s voice penetrated the clouded fury in his mind, and then, slowly, the beast within receded. His eyes darkened once again. Hero smiled at the brother she knew.

  Machaon tightened his grip on Theseus’ hand until the Athenian dropped the sword and then he stood, eyeing warily the horsemen who watched from just paces away. Cadmus placed his own sword at the fleshy folds of Theseus’ throat. The Skyrothian herders now gathered behind them.

  “Tell your men to stand down,” Cadmus said coldly.

  For a moment Theseus hesitated and then he nodded. The men on horseback sheathed their swords.

  “Perhaps you should explain yourself, my Lord,” Lycon demanded.

  Theseus heaved his bulk upright with considerable puffing and sighing before he answered. “I was trying to marry your sister. Most maidens would consider it an honour to wed the hero of Athens, slayer of the Minotaur.”

  “I do not recall you asking our sister for her hand.”

  “Well why would I do that?” Theseus seemed genuinely surprised. “I am a king—it is my right. What woman would want a king who could not prove his might and ardour by seizing her from her family?”

  The sons of Agelaus and his would-be bride stared at him, all wondering if he could possibly be serious.

  Theseus continued, pounding his chest with his fist. “What woman would not have been Queen of Skyros?”

  Lycon’s eyes narrowed. “Skyros is Lycomedes’ kingdom.”

  Theseus stopped. “Yes, of course… I misspoke. I meant what woman of low birth would not wish to be seized by a king?”

  “I did not wish it.” Hero glared at the Athenian.

  Theseus waved his hand dismissively. “They all feign reluctance at first—that is just the tradition.” He inhaled imperiously. “Why do you not know of this? Where are you people from?”

  The Herdsmen did not reply. Their people had been allies of Troy, and the Greeks had defeated them. The war was over but they could yet be enemies.

  Theseus looked at Machaon suspiciously, remembering now the yellow eyes which had glowed murderously from his face. “What manner of men are you?”

  Machaon did not flinch. “We are men who are loyal to our friends. Can you say the same, Theseus?”

  “Of course I can!” the Athenian bit back, affronted. “I am the champion of Athens, the truest of friends. Why, I slew the Minotaur in friendship to my people.” He pointed at Machaon. “You would do well to remember that I am a slayer of monsters.”

  Machaon smiled. “You would do well to remember that you are on the end of my brother’s sword.”

  Cadmus moved the blade to emphasise the point.

  Theseus frowned. “So I take it your sister does not wish to be my queen.”

  “I do not,” Hero almost shouted. “By the gods I do not! I would accept the Minotaur before I’d accept you!”

  “Bad luck, Hero,” Lycon said evenly. “The Minotaur died—Theseus here found the corpse.”

  Theseus’ ample jowls wobbled indignantly. “I killed the Minotaur!” he screeched. Now even his own men laughed. Cadmus resheathed his sword. The deposed king turned, berating his men furiously before he grabbed the reins of his horse and heaved himself onto its back.

  The Herdsmen watched as Theseus and his companions retreated into the black of the night.

  Cadmus placed an arm protectively around Hero. “I think you might have offended him, Ly.”

  WHEN THE ROSY HAND of Eos next reached over the horizon, feeling tentatively for the new day, the Herdsmen and the Skyrothian cattlemen were mustering the herd that had been scattered in the night’s melee.

  The Skyrothians talked of Theseus, who it seemed had been gathering an army on Skyros for some time. This he had done with the blessing of Lycomedes, in the guise of shoring the defence of his host’s kingdom.

  Lycon shook his head. “He plans to take Skyros for himself. You heard him last night.”

  Machaon nodded. “Ly’s right. Neoptolemus is Lycomedes’ heir, and he’s too busy plundering cities elsewhere to defend his grandfather’s throne. It would not
be difficult to seize Skyros.”

  “So what should we do?”

  Machaon shrugged. “I’m not inclined to get involved in a war between Greek kings, but Lycomedes has treated us well. We’ll warn him.”

  “We’ll have to be careful,” Cadmus murmured. “Theseus is the king’s friend. We are just strangers who caught his bull.”

  “I think the king may be a bit fed up with his guest,” Lycon said.

  Cadmus leant down to stroke the neck of his steed. “Let’s head back. We’ll tell Lycomedes that Theseus covets his throne, and sail for Attica before things become awkward.” He looked at Machaon. “We need to get you fixed before you kill someone, Mac.”

  “Theseus deserved it,” Lycon muttered.

  “Even so.” Machaon dragged a hand uneasily through his hair. “Who knows who I’ll turn on next. You can’t trust me—I can’t trust myself.”

  “I’m more inclined to trust you than the gods,” said Cadmus, “Even when your eyes are yellow.”

  “What are you saying?” Hero said, horrified. She turned on her brothers, frustrated. “If we do not put our faith in the gods we are lost. We must begin now and beg them to forgive your years of blasphemy, of disrespect… The gods are vengeful, they will remember …”

  Cadmus groaned and Machaon smiled as Hero continued her invective. In the end Lycon, just rode off. Cadmus glanced at Machaon and they followed suit.

  THE LORD OF SKYROS was in his throne room when the sons of Agelaus and their sister returned to the white stone palace.

  Oenone ran out to greet them, and to warn them. Theseus was in council with the king.

  “We’d better go in then,” Machaon said grimly.

  Oenone grabbed his arm. “Machaon, stop… The fat Athenian claims you are a monster. He says he saw something—he’s offering to slay you to save the kingdom.”

  Cadmus laughed. “The man’s an idiot.”

  Machaon sighed. He turned to Lycon. “Ly, take Hero and Oenone back to the ship. Get her ready to go in case we have to get out of here quickly.”

  “What are you and Cad going to do?” Lycon asked as Machaon dismounted and handed the reins to Oenone.

  “We’d better try to warn Lycomedes… and then there’s Medea. She may be unhappy if we just abandon her.”

  Cadmus smiled at his sister. “We’ve been listening, Hero. Goddesses don’t like to be crossed.”

  For a moment, Hero looked as if she may continue the lecture which she had maintained in some form or other on their ride back from the pastures, but that moment passed and her eyes clouded with uncertainty. “Be careful,” she said softly.

  Cadmus squeezed her hand. “Don’t worry—I won’t let that idiot behead Mac.”

  Machaon spoke quietly to the youngest of his brothers. “If something happens, and we do not join you within a day, sail for Troy.”

  “We can’t—”

  “If we don’t join you, Ly, it will be because we are dead. If you do anything else you will be condemning yourself and Hero… Oenone too.”

  Lycon nodded reluctantly. Machaon and Cadmus needed to trust that he would protect their sister. They had all risked everything to get her back.

  WHEN THE ELDER SONS of Agelaus entered the marble hall, Theseus was in the midst of an oration.

  “… In Athens’ time of desperate need I did not resile. With no thought for my own life, I did what was needed. Into the Labyrinth I walked with iron resolve and emerged triumphant with the head of the Minotaur… and now when Skyros is in similar peril I, Theseus, will slay the monster.”

  “What monster is that, my Lord?” Cadmus asked as he and Machaon bowed acknowledgment to Lycomedes.

  Theseus pointed at Machaon. “The yellow-eyed creature who disguises himself as a man.”

  “It is not my brother who pretends to be a man,” Cadmus said icily.

  Theseus flared instantly. “You are brave indeed to insult Theseus,” he said unsheathing his sword. “I slew the Minotaur!”

  “So you keep saying,” Machaon returned calmly.

  Medea, who stood at Lycomedes’ right hand, spoke now. “What is the nature of this monster you claim to have seen, Lord Theseus, and how did you come upon it?”

  “A man with the head of a wolf… well the eyes anyway. He dragged me from my horse. No doubt he intended to devour me!”

  “Must have been hungry,” Cadmus said, moving his eyes pointedly over the vast proportions of Theseus.

  “And how did you escape this loathsome creature, my Lord?” Medea asked sweetly.

  Theseus hesitated.

  “There is no monster,” Cadmus replied. “Mac pulled Theseus from his horse as he was trying to kidnap our sister. Look for yourself, my Lord, Machaon is not some creature made up of wolf and man.”

  Machaon waited as Lycomedes scrutinised him.

  “His eyes—look into his eyes!” Theseus urged, keeping his sword ready.

  “You know, Theseus, my friend,” the king said slowly as he stared into Machaon’s face. “I think you might be mistaken. There is nothing of the wolf about him… perhaps you took too much of my excellent wine…”

  “I saw him I tell you,” Theseus insisted. “You leave your people undefended if you allow him to walk among them.”

  “I really don’t think this man is dangerous, Theseus.”

  Theseus snorted in disgust and fury. “I can save Skyros—just let me behead him and be done with it!” he demanded pointing at Machaon with his sword.

  Machaon smiled.

  Cadmus laughed. “Who will you get to hold him down while you commit this act of heroism, my Lord?”

  Theseus reared and raised his blade. The Herdsmen unsheathed theirs. Lycomedes stood from his throne. Various men on either side of the hall also laid bare their swords, though it was unclear whether they would fight for Theseus or against him.

  Lycomedes seemed to waiver. “You are sure you saw him become a monster?”

  “Yes, I am sure!” Theseus roared.

  Machaon glanced uneasily at his brother. The goodwill of the king seemed to be turning.

  Medea put her hand on Lycomedes’ shoulder and, drawing down his face, whispered into his ear.

  Cadmus placed himself between Theseus and Machaon.

  “Enough!” Lycomedes spoke decisively now. “These men are my guests and are protected by me and Zeus the Thunderer, protector of supplicants. Stop before you offend either of us, Theseus.”

  The Athenian paused. “You mistake me, Lycomedes, my only concern is for your people. Skyros knows I love it like my own kingdom.”

  “Indeed.” Lycomedes scanned the room suspiciously. It was clear that Theseus was not without support. The air was charged with bretrayal and rebellion.

  “I will have your monster confined in my dungeons…” Lycomedes waved his hand and his own men raised their swords against the sons of Agelaus.

  “You and I, Theseus, my friend, will sacrifice at the altar of Zeus. The Thunderer shall decide whether this man is a friend or a monster.”

  Theseus hesitated. Machaon grabbed Cadmus’ arm to calm him. They could not resist this many men—they would have to wait.

  “Very well, Lycomedes,” Theseus said warily. “We shall ask Zeus to decide… as long as the creature is imprisoned then he can do no harm to the citizens of Skyros who, as you know, are my only concern.”

  Cadmus snorted.

  “It is agreed then,” Lycomedes said quickly. He gave instructions for the Herdsmen to be taken to his dungeons but cautioned that they not be harmed.

  Theseus applauded heartily. He leant into Machaon, looking intently into his eyes. His voice trembled with sadistic enthusiasm. “Once the king of gods gives me his blessing, I shall cleave the head from your shoulders and fling it into the flecked waves as an offering to the gods of sea and sky.”

  Theseus, having decided to dwell in Skyros, applied to Lycomedes the King of Skyros for the restoration of his lands. But Lycomedes, either in fear of Theseus’ f
ame, or as a favour to Menestheus, lured him up to the high places and threw him down the cliffs. Some say however, that Theseus slipped and fell while walking there after supper.

  Plutarch, Life of Theseus

  BOOK XVIII

  CADMUS TESTED THE THICK OAK and iron door that barred the stone cell buried in the foundations of the palace of Skyros. They had been taken to the prison by men whose loyalties were unstable, whose blood pumped strongly with the excitement of revolution though they had not before thought of defying their king. Theseus could well succeed in seizing Lycomedes’ kingdom, and that would surely mean death for the Herdsmen in his dungeon.

  The prison guards had handled Machaon roughly, goaded by both suggestion and curiosity. Time and again they had pushed or struck the Herdsman needlessly, and taunted him, clearly disappointed by his refusal to be a monster. For just a moment, Cadmus saw his brother’s eyes yellow, but drunk on their own petty power the Skyrothian guards had failed to notice.

  When finally the door was bolted behind them, Cadmus turned and seized Machaon by the shoulders. “Mac, relax, they’re gone.”

  Machaon nodded, unclenching his fists and closing his eyes. He understood his brother’s urgency. If any Skyrothian saw the wolf in his eyes it would not matter what Zeus decreed. There was any number of would-be heroes, greedy for a place in history, who would slay him for the legend it would create. He tried to think of his father, the calm and gentle wisdom of Agelaus. When he opened his eyes again, they were dark.

  “I’m all right.”

  He sat on the dirt floor and leant back against the cold stone wall. Cadmus knelt beside him. “What now, Mac?”

  Machaon surveyed the four walls carved out of solid stone. The only light came from small vents high on the wall opposite the door. “I don’t think we can get out of here, Cad.”