by Hilary Green
I was even more out of training than I had realised and by the time I finished I was sweating and panting with fatigue. I threw myself down in the shade and Melanthos came and sat beside me.
‘You’re out of condition,’ he remarked unnecessarily.
‘I don’t need you to tell me that,’ I returned. ‘You try lying around on a ship for days on end.’
‘Oh, is that what’s done it?’ he asked, slanting me a sly grin.
Antilochos came over and paused, looking down at me.
‘Well, I can see somebody isn’t going to be competing in the games tomorrow. But then, I suppose after your recent exploits you don’t have to prove anything – to anybody.’
I smiled up at him. After the events of the last weeks I was impervious to his malice. To add to my pleasure, I could see that my serenity annoyed him. He bit into a ripe fig and strolled away.
Melanthos growled in his throat and said, ‘There are times when I think the Lawagetas didn’t take the whip to him often enough!’
I laughed and said, ‘Leave him be. He doesn’t worry me any more.’
He gave me a sharp look and said, ‘I’m glad. But don’t put him too far from your mind, Alkmaion. He thinks like a snake.’
‘Why do you say that?’
‘Many reasons. Look at yesterday for example. That tale he told you to excuse his absence was a lie.’
‘You mean he was not at his father’s estate?’
‘Oh yes, he was there. But when did he leave the palace? The moment the news arrived that your ship had been sighted he slipped away, had a pair of horses harnessed and drove off before anyone had a chance to notice – or so he thought.’
‘Why should he do that?’
‘Because he was consumed with envy at the thought of the reception you were going to get and was determined not to be part of it.’
I sighed. ‘It’s hard to believe he can be so bitter.’
Melanthos sat up. ‘Listen, Alkmaion. I warned you once before against him. Now, I’ve watched him while you have been away. He has done everything he can to win the favour of the Companions, the landholders, the Governor, anyone in a position of importance. I am sure he hoped that you might be lost at sea so that he could take your place as heir to the throne.’
‘Well then,’ I said lightly, ‘he has reason to be disappointed, hasn’t he. And after all, if anything happens to me he will be the heir, so it’s as well that people should like him.’
‘They don’t,’ said Melanthos curtly. ‘And he knows it. But his father has influence, particularly in the army and in the further provinces where the King isn’t so well known. And he’s very thick with the Chief Priest of Poseidon and you know as well as I do that there are times when signs and omens can be – well, manipulated, if a priest is corrupt. I’m only talking in the air of course but,’ he looked me in the face, ‘beware, Alkmaion. If he could find a way to do it Antilochos would replace you even while you are still alive.’
I looked back at him. ‘That’s a very serious accusation, Melanthos.’
‘I know it,’ he answered. ‘Therefore it is for your ears alone – as is what follows. I had not meant to tell, since I thought it could only bring back painful memories, but now I see that I must. You will recall that Antilochos was initiated the year before you.’
‘Yes,’ I said, my stomach contracting with foreboding.
‘Well, I know nothing, of course, of what happened during that time. I only know that on the night of the festival of the New Wine he was with Eritha.’
I turned my head away. ‘There must have many others before him.’ Then, realising the significance of his words, ‘You know about me and Eritha?’
‘I saw you together at this year’s festival – and I was surprised because I had seen her with Antilochos only a few days before.’
‘What?’ I stared at him. ‘You mean, while I was on the Holy Mountain?’
‘Yes.’
‘Where? How?’
‘I had been to consult the Priest on a small matter for my father and as I returned I noticed a horse tethered just off the road. That drew my attention to the trees beyond. Antilochos was there with Eritha.’
‘How?’ My question was hoarse and blunt.
‘They were having sex.’
I gazed across the valley. Eritha had been Antilochos’s mistress even during the first flush of my passion for her. In my surprise I was not sure whether that mattered to me now or not.
Melanthos said gently, ‘I would not have spoken of it, but I cannot help wondering if … You see, I saw who it was that fled from the sacred Couch – no, say nothing, the rest is between you and the Goddess and clearly She has favoured you. But answer me this one thing. Was it Eritha who led you there?’
‘Yes.’
‘Then I cannot get it out of my mind that Antilochos might have prompted her to do it.’
I stared at him. ‘You mean to discredit me? Perhaps even to compass my death?’
He nodded gravely. I shook my head, exclaiming, ‘I cannot believe it!’
He said, ‘We cannot prove it either way. Antilochos will deny it and the woman is - dead.’
‘She is dead?’
‘Yes, soon after you left. They say it was no human agency and no sickness known to man. The Goddess laid Her hand upon her.’
I swallowed and nodded. ‘Karpathia said it would be so.’
We were silent for a moment, then he said, ‘Forgive me for distressing you, but I had to warn you. If Antilochos is to blame, his plan has rebounded on him. You are held in greater respect than before. We can do nothing now, but watch him, Alkmaion, and be on your guard. He will do anything to ruin you.’
The games that were to bring Cresphontes’s stay to a conclusion where magnificent indeed. Cresphontes was inclined to challenge our wrestlers but I had told my father about his style of fighting and we persuaded him that it was more fitting to his rank merely to watch. Alectryon and I also held back, pleading our enforced lack of exercise, but I found it hard not to be down there among the athletes, particularly when the footraces were on. Cresphontes was full of praise for our runners and javelin throwers, but when the wrestling started I could see him exchanging sideways glances with Xouthos, who was now fit enough to join the spectators. I sat between them, trying to point out the finer points of style, but though they watched and nodded I could see they were not impressed.
When the bouts were over Cresphontes looked across at Xouthos and said, ‘You see, little wolf? That is how the fine gentlemen of Messenia fight.’ And although his tone was polite the hint of ironic contempt in his eyes was unmistakable.
The chariot race had him standing in his seat and yelling, however. ‘Such horses!’ he kept exclaiming. ‘Such magnificent animals!’
The race was won, as expected, by Telaon, driving my father’s superbly matched blacks. But second place went to a complete outsider; a fair-haired lad from the northern Province whom I had never seen before and who had brought a splendid pair of chestnuts all the way from Phea to compete.
Finally we all mounted our chariots and drove down to a small hill above the bay to watch the naval battle. This had our guests totally absorbed, as they watched the ships manoeuvring, the rowers straining at the oars or shipping them in a shower of spray as they attempted to board another vessel. Kerkios and his crew, back in fine fettle after their rest, were adjudged the most successful and received the prize of two fat sheep and a cask of wine.
The farewell feast was almost as magnificent as the one that had been prepared to greet us and closed with an exchange of gifts – Cresphontes, I noticed, handing over some of his booty from the raid – and protestations of gratitude and friendship. I fell into bed feeling well pleased with my first attempt at diplomacy.
The following day we set course for Dorian territory.
Chapter 8.
The winds were more favourable than on our first voyage north and by the end of the first day we had covered almost
half the distance to Cresphontes’s village. As we made camp I noticed that Xouthos had brought ashore with him the chest my father had given him to keep his valuables in. He was squatting before it, examining the contents. His greedy delight in precious objects amused me and I strolled over to him, my feet silent on the sand.
‘Really, Xouthos, you need not have bothered to bring all that ashore. It would have been perfectly safe on the ship.’
At my voice he started and slammed shut the lid of the chest, but he was too late to prevent me seeing the contents. Among the various objects that I recognised as gifts from my father or myself was another, a cup of gold ornamented with a chariot and horses at full gallop, which belonged to a set my father kept for the use of guests. I had seen it in Xouthos’s hands in the megaron, but I was certain that it had not been given to him.
‘Xouthos!’ I said, and stooped to lift the lid of the chest. He flung his arm across it and glared up at me, his teeth bared like those of an animal. For a moment we stared into each other’s eyes and then I turned away, profoundly disturbed. I could have called Alectryon and the others and accused Xouthos outright of the theft, but something in me revolted against the idea of charging so mean an act against one whom I had come to regard as a friend.
Xouthos avoided my gaze for the rest of the voyage, although I could feel him watching me out of the corners of his eyes whenever he thought my attention was elsewhere. I decided to say nothing, since to mention the theft would be to start a quarrel which would involve us all, but I could not help wondering what Cresphontes would do if he knew of it. Meanwhile, I reflected on the aptness of Xouthos’s nickname and reminded myself that although you might tame a young wolf cub you could never trust it not to turn on you one day.
We reached Cresphontes's village next day and he pressed us to stay with him but I made the excuse that my father wanted me home as soon as possible. However, we agreed for courtesy’s sake to stay one day longer – a promise that was more readily given when Cresphontes promised us a day’s hunting.
He had boasted many times of the good hunting near his home and we were not disappointed. He himself did not accompany us, excusing himself on the grounds that many things in the village required his attention. But he sent Xouthos and some of his young men with us and we took some of the ship’s crew, leaving Kerkios with a handful of men to prepare for an early start next morning. Xouthos, though still unable to use a spear, proved to be an able tracker and found us an abundance of game. We returned to the village in high good humour, ready for another night of feasting.
Cresphontes met us at the entry to the village, grave-faced. Some presentiment told me that he had bad news and that it concerned us.
‘What is it, Cresphontes?’ I asked.
‘My friends,’ he said, ‘ I am sorry to be the bearer of bad tidings but I must tell you that an accident has befallen one of your companions.’
‘Who?’
‘The excellent Kerkios. Apparently he went swimming near the mouth of the river. The current is very strong just there.’
‘Where is he?’ I asked hoarsely.
He lifted his shoulders. ‘Who can say? His body may be washed up somewhere along the coast. His soul is certainly by now on its way to the abode of the dead.’
I turned and gazed blankly at Alectryon, too shocked to speak. He said quietly, ‘Who saw it happen?’
‘Several of my people heard his cries. When they reached the riverbank he was already far out and being rapidly swept away. I will call them to speak to you themselves.’
Four of the villagers confirmed the story. Then they took us to the edge of the river, not at the point where I had bathed in the shallows and Purwa had come to fill her water pot, but further down where the swift waters ran into the sea. As Cresphontes had said, the current was strong.
‘But why,’ I cried, ‘did you not summon my crew to put to sea and save him?’
‘We did,’ Cresphontes responded. ‘But of course some of them were with you, and the rest had gone with some of my people to spear fish further up the coast. By the time they returned and launched the ship there was no sign of him.’
The crew were clustered round the stern of the ship, their heads bowed in sorrow. One or two wept openly. All had been with Kerkios on many voyages and loved and honoured him like a father. I said a few words to them, striving to offer some comfort, though my own heart was blank and desolate at the loss of such a brilliant captain and loyal friend. Then I called the helmsman to me and asked if he could sail the ship back to Pylos. He answered that he could, given fair weather and no unexpected hazards, so I gave orders to be ready to sail first thing the next morning.
The game which we had intended for a joyful feast was now put to use as meat for the funeral meal and that night we offered all the sacrifices that must be made to allow a soul to enter the abode of the dead. We were all heavy hearted and Cresphontes again and again bemoaned the fact that the tragedy had occurred while we were his guests.
I brought the solemn feast to an early conclusion and we retired to bed. Just before we slept Alectryon said, ‘I don’t understand why a man like Kerkios would be fool enough to bathe at a place like that.’
The day’s hunting followed by the shock of Cresphontes’s news had laid a heavy hand upon my spirits and I fell into a deep sleep without answering him. The next thing I knew was an urgent hand on my shoulder and I opened my eyes to find Dexeus bending over the two of us.
‘Be quiet, I beg you!’ he whispered. ‘Come outside with me. It is Kerkios!’
The urgency of his voice dragged me from my sleep but the words seemed to mean nothing. Alectryon was awake and alert already. We caught our cloaks around us and followed Dexeus out onto the porch. Then my drowsiness fell from me and his words took on meaning, for Kerkios lay propped against the wall. I dropped on my knees beside him and discovered that his hands were clasped tightly to his side and between them the hilt of a dagger stood out, red with the blood that seeped constantly around it. I breathed his name and made to unloose his hands and draw out the blade but he gasped,
‘No, leave it! Once it is out my life will go with it, and I must speak first. Listen, Prince, I beg of you!’
He choked and his body doubled around the knife. Alectryon slid an arm behind him to support him.
‘Say on, Kerkios. The Prince is listening.’
‘Kerkios,’ I whispered, ‘I don’t understand. Cresphontes told us you were drowned.’
‘Ah!’ he nodded painfully. ‘Is that it?’ Then he lifted his head and looked at me. ‘Beware of him, Prince. He means you harm – and your father. And all of us.’
‘How, Kerkios?’
He seemed for a moment unable to speak, then he drew a long, rasping breath, flung his head back against Alectryon’s shoulder, and began in a rapid, gasping whisper,
‘Today he summoned me. He sent you hunting to have you out of the way. He offered me bribes to stay here and teach his people how to manage ships. They have built more than the one we have seen. Soon, he said, the time foretold by the oracle would come and they would need many ships. When they had conquered, he said, I should have all I asked for in land or treasure.’
‘Conquered where?’ Alectryon asked urgently, but Kerkios did not seem to hear and went on, ‘I refused, of course. Then he had me bound and locked in a hut, saying I should stay as his prisoner. I managed to get free at length …’ his voice was weakening but his will carried him on. ‘When darkness came … I broke through the roof and climbed out. There was a guard … I crept up behind him but at the last moment he heard me. I had my arm around his throat but he had time to draw his dagger. I finished him and managed … to reach here.’ He groped out and caught my hand. ‘The time of the oracle … what does it mean?’
I caught Alectryon’s eye and answered, ‘Nothing, Kerkios, nothing. Be at peace.’
He gripped my hand hard. ‘Be warned, son of Sillos … I beg of you!’
I pressed his hand.
‘I have heard your warning, Kerkios, and I shall heed it, never fear. I am forever in your debt for bringing it to me. Be assured, Cresphontes will not go unpunished.’
He stared at me, his eyes glazed with pain, then he drew a sudden, harsh breath and slumped against Alectryon. My friend laid him down carefully and stooped to hold his cheek above the blood-flecked lips. ‘He is dead.’
I crouched by the body, numbed by what seemed this second death. Alectryon reached out and drew the dagger from the wound. The blood flowed turgidly after it. I discovered that my hand was sticky with blood and wiped it absent-mindedly on my cloak.
Alectryon said, ‘Listen. It is dangerous to stay here now. Once Kerkios’s escape is discovered none of our lives will be safe. We must try to launch the ship and get away tonight. Dexeus, go to the hut where the men sleep. Wake them and bid them be ready to sail. There must be no sound – you understand?’
Dexeus nodded and slipped away into the darkness. Alectryon gripped my arm and said, ‘Come. The time for grief will follow. Now is the time to act.’
We crept back into the megaron and gathered together our belongings, straining our ears for any sound from behind the curtain that covered the sleeping compartment. As we came out onto the porch again I looked at Kerkios’s body.
‘We can’t leave him.’
‘We must,’ Alectryon returned curtly.
‘No,’ I said. ‘I will not.’
He hesitated a moment and then said, ‘Very well.’
A man is heavy to carry at the best of times: the inert weight of a corpse is a far more difficult burden. Somehow we lugged him down to the shore. Under the stern of the ship the crew were gathering, hardly awake, silent and wondering. When they saw whose body we brought I feared their surprise would wake the village but I bade them curtly lift him aboard and keep their questions for later and they obeyed me. We embarked and the men put their shoulders to the hull. Now, I thought, as the keel grated on the shingle, they must wake. But no sound came from the sleeping village. The crew dipped their oars and we slid out across the dark water.
