by Hilary Green
The following morning the Royal Kin were assembled in the megaron. My father took his place and when we were all seated began to speak.
‘I have summoned you all here today so that you may hear the news which Prince Alkmaion and the Count Alectryon have brought. It is grave news, indeed sorrowful, but I do not feel that it gives any immediate cause for alarm. However, you shall judge for yourselves. Alkmaion, stand forth and tell your story.’
I did as he bade me, angry that my knees trembled as I took my place. Once again I told of Kerkios’s death and of the smiths in the Forbidden Valley and displayed the sword. I ended, ‘We saw as many swords like this one as there are in the palace armoury, and the smiths are still working. Cresphontes has betrayed our trust and ignored the laws of friendship and hospitality. I believe he intends to attack us as soon as he has built enough ships to transport his warriors. We must be ready to repel such an attack.’
My father looked round at the others. ‘We have heard Alkmaion’s story. Does anyone wish to ask him any questions?’
Echelaon, who always spoke coolly and with an appearance of great detachment, said, ‘What makes you think that it is against us that these weapons are to be used?’
I hesitated. I knew I must not speak of the prophecy. ‘Cresphontes hinted as much to Kerkios.’
‘Hints? We need a little more than that, surely?’
Antilochos said suddenly, ‘Why did you not confront Cresphontes and demand an explanation for Kerkios’s death?’
Alectryon answered him. ‘Because I feared that the Prince’s life might be in danger when Cresphontes learned we had discovered his deception.’
Antilochos smirked. ‘Of course, the Prince must not risk his life!’
My father said sharply, ‘You did right, Count. To remain would have been foolhardy.’
Paion shifted impatiently in his chair. ‘I fail to understand what all this is about. Are you seriously suggesting, Prince, that those barbarians are going to attack us?’
‘I think it is very likely.’
He leaned forward and favoured me with the stare that used to intimidate me not so long ago. ‘Then they must be mad – and so must you to raise such an alarm. Has the Prince never heard of the prowess of his ancestors? Does he imagine that the seed of Nestor can be conquered by a handful of barbarians?’
‘They will not be a handful!’ I cried. ‘Already they have enough swords in one village to arm every man in it.’
‘Ha!’ My uncle threw back his head and the thick flesh of his neck shook. ‘Arm every man in the village! Do you think giving a man a sword makes a warrior of him? Oh no, my boy, you’ve got a lot to learn if you think that!’ He laughed loudly and Antilochos joined in. Alectryon sprang to his feet and came to where I stood, my cheeks burning with humiliation. It was the first time I had seen him roused but now his eyes flashed with anger.
‘I support the Prince and urge you all to take steps now to prepare for an attack. The Prince risked his life twice to penetrate the secrets of the Forbidden Valley – and I hope you, my lords, will take due account of that fact.’
‘Let me have a look at that sword.’ Paion rose and came towards us. I handed it to him. He peered at it and weighed it in his hand, then ran his thumb along the edge and gave a little laugh. Then he took the blade in both hands and bent it. The soft metal gave in his hands and remained in its curve. Paion threw back his head and shook with laughter, holding the drooping sword at arm’s length for all to see. ‘There’s your new weapon for you! A hundred or two untrained men with these in their hands! That is what worries the Prince so much! Let them come, I say. Let them build their ships. Half of them will probably drown on the way. The rest will be seasick like their precious prince. I’ve never seen a man look so pale and wet as he did when he arrived! And those that don’t run away the moment they see a squadron of our chariotry with their good bronze armour will have to stop and bend their swords back into shape after a few hacks at us!’
His laughter seemed to rock the room and Antilochos joined in wildly. Even Echelaon permitted himself an amused smile. I felt a sudden impulse to seize the sword from my uncle’s hand and drive it into his quaking belly.
As soon as he could make himself heard Alectryon shouted, ‘But don’t you see? They can arm the whole people. Our warriors are trained men, yes, with the best armour. But they cannot stand against odds of ten to one!’
My father raised his hand for silence and when Paion had rumbled and guffawed his way back to his seat said, ‘I think you exaggerate, Count. The whole population of Cresphontes’s village could scarcely provide those odds.’
Andropompous, who had sat silent until now, put in, ‘May I ask what defence measures the Prince and the Count have in mind?’
‘We should set the smiths to work increasing the stock of weapons immediately,’ I said at once.
My father replied, ‘That is difficult, as you well know. Our stores of copper and tin are small. All we can obtain is already in heavy demand.’
‘Then we should try to obtain more,’ said Alectryon.
My father gave a grim smile. ‘Every civilised country in the world is already trying to do that. Competition is very great.’
‘We should build defensive walls,’ I put in, ‘as they have at Mycenae and Tyrins.’
‘Since when have the seed of Nestor cowered behind walls?’ growled Paion. ‘Our forefathers needed none. Are we grown so puny in comparison with them?’
‘Mycenae and Tyrins were built in very disturbed times,’ my father said. ‘We have always been more fortunate. I cannot believe that there is sufficient danger to warrant such a tremendous expenditure of effort.’
I gazed round at them and then looked at Alectryon. His eyes told me that he had come to the same conclusion. It was hopeless. They were all so certain of their security nothing we could say would make them change their minds.
In the silence that ensued my father said, ‘Listen, now, to what I propose. Cresphontes may indeed have hostile intentions towards us but although he is a prince he is not at liberty to do as he pleases. He owes fealty to his brother, Temenos. I suggest therefore that we send an embassy to Temenos to protest at the murder of Kerkios and demand reparation. This embassy can also hint at Cresphontes’s warlike preparations and find out how Temenos is disposed towards them. I think we may find that Cresphontes has over-reached himself. At any rate, let us put aside all questions of preparations for an attack until we know his answer. Is it agreed?’
No one raised any objections. Even Paion, feeling I suppose that he had scored a victory already, seemed content to let the matter rest. As Antilochos passed me on his way out of the hall he handed me the iron sword, which his father had thrown aside, and said with a giggle, ‘I suppose you will be using this magnificent weapon from now on. We must have a bout together sometime. But I should wear your bronze armour, if I were you!’
I stood silent as they all passed me, burning with impotent anger. Even my father …!
He called me. ‘Alkmaion, I want to speak to you.’
I exchanged glances with Alectryon and he said, ‘I will wait for you in the courtyard.’
In his private room my father invited me to sit but I shook my head mutinously and remained standing.
‘You are angry,’ he said. ‘I understand. And you have some reason to be. That is why I want to explain why I acted as I did.’
I looked at him in surprise. I had never heard him speak in this tone before.
He went on, ‘You risked your life to bring me news and you have performed exploits well worthy of being celebrated in the songs of a bard. But you have as yet received only humiliation and mockery in return. It is bitterly hard to accept, I know. But you must come to understand that there are many bitter things a king must accept. So sit down, and let me begin to instruct you.’
I sat then and listened silently.
‘I do not have to tell you, although we have never mentioned it before, that there h
as long been bad feeling between the Lawagetas and myself. Until recently he has kept it well hidden but now his son is growing up, and Antilochos has a bitter spirit, as you well know. I believe it is he who has prompted his father into more open hostility. As yet it has not come to much, but they are seeking every opportunity to turn people against me.’
I had been gazing at the floor, at that same octopus on which I had fixed my eyes after the incident with the bull. Was it really only a few short months ago? Now I looked up.
‘I understand this now. It was Alectryon who made me see it, last night.’
‘That is why you did not press for an immediate attack on the Dorians in council this morning?’
‘Yes.’
‘Good, you are learning.’
‘There is more,’ I went on. ‘I have good reason to believe Antilochos played a part in – what happened at the Festival.’ I related what Melanthos had told me and saw my father’s eyes narrow with anger.
When I had finished he nodded, tight-lipped, and said, ‘It would be like him. His mind twists about his jealousy until it loses hold on honour altogether. But this is not the time to accuse him, without better proof. We must wait and watch. I wish at all costs to avoid an open clash with him or his father at present. That is why I am glad you did not ask for an attack on the Dorians.’
‘But the rest …’ I burst out. ‘It seems to me so vital!’
He smiled for the first time. ‘You have been so close to it that it must seem to fill your sight. But what I said in the council is true, Alkmaion. There is no immediate danger. That is the important thing. Just at this time we cannot afford unrest and rumours of war. Dissension feeds upon such things. That is why we must show no anxiety for the future. We have a breathing space now, and in that time we must bind the people to us; the army and the great landholders in particular. That is where our defence lies, first of all. Do you understand me?’
I nodded slowly and then rose and faced him. ‘Will you entrust me with the embassy to Temenos?’
He gave me a look that was almost tender, but shook his head. ‘No, for two reasons. First, because your discovery of the Forbidden Valley and theft of the sword may be known and that would make it difficult for Temenos to receive you. And secondly, and more important, because I want you here, taking your place as the heir and helping to bind people to the throne. That, I think, is an important enough task.’
I met his eyes. ‘Yes, indeed it is.’
He smiled. ‘Good. Then we are on friendly terms again. Tonight there will be a feast, to mark your second safe return, and I shall see to it that your deeds are duly celebrated. After that, you will come to see in other ways that I am grateful.’
Chapter 9.
Over the following days my father’s promise was kept more fully than I had ever dreamed. That night there was a feast of even greater magnificence than the one held to celebrate my first homecoming and after we had eaten my father publicly expressed his thanks to myself and Alectryon and presented us with rich gifts from his own treasury. I still have the golden fillet that he gave me. It is one of the few possessions I brought with me when I fled my home and it will be around my brow when they lay my body in its tomb.
That night, however, we banished all thoughts of disaster. My only regret was that Sirios, the bard, and his young apprentice, Philomenos, were not present.
When I asked my father the reason he replied, ‘They have gone travelling, as such men will. Sirios came to me the day after you set sail again and begged my leave to undertake one last journey. He wished, he said, to visit golden Mycenae and Tyrins of the great walls once more before he died and also to introduce his young companion to the court of High King Tisamenos. But I believe half his intention was to tell them the story of your voyage. He was always loyal to us, and it will please him to make your name ring about the hall of mighty Mycenae.’
Two days later Andropompous was despatched to carry my father’s message to Cresphontes’s brother Temenos. It was a good choice, for he was a wise man who listened much and spoke little, and that to the point, and always tending towards reason and peace. Also, he was utterly loyal to my father. Melanthos sued for and won permission to accompany his father and this time it was my turn, as I bade him farewell, to warn him to guard himself.
The pattern of my life was changing. More and more of my time was taken up with assisting my father in his duties, both secular and sacred. The hours that were left I spent with Alectryon but we did not pass them idly. We formed the habit of practising every day with sword and spear, both knowing that before long our lives might depend on such skills, though we passed it off as an amusing pastime. Some of the other younger members of the Companionhood began to join in with us, and we did nothing to discourage them. Only at night did we allow ourselves to forget our forebodings. The court knew well enough by now that we were lovers and I persuaded Alectryon that it was pointless to pretend otherwise. In the palace there were always too many people about me, so when I could I spent the evenings at his house, talking over a simple meal and afterwards taking turns to sing to the accompaniment of the lyre. But I remembered what my father required of me and was careful not to absent myself too often from the evening meal in the megaron, only slipping out of the palace when everyone had retired to bed.
My domestic affairs had taken a turn for the better, too. On the day after my return I had been taken by surprise at the sight of the lovely girl who glided forward, eyes modestly down-cast, to attend upon me. Mukala had kept her promise and seen that Andria was well cared for. Now, rested and apparently reconciled to her fate, she had become a beauty and, amazingly, she and Mukala appeared to be good friends. She had begun to learn our language and told me, brokenly, how much she honoured me for saving her from Cresphontes. Whenever I was in the room her eyes followed me, but I was young and my attentions were elsewhere and it did not occur to me that there might be more in them than simple gratitude.
Andria was not the only addition to my household. The day after the feast to celebrate my return, as I was about to set off for the exercise ground, a page came to tell me that my father wished to see me. I found him, not alone as I expected, but in the company of a young man of about my own age whose face seemed vaguely familiar. He was tall and well built, with fair hair and blue eyes, and his features and bearing proclaimed him to be of good breeding. His good looks, however, were spoilt by an expression of almost sullen reserve.
My father said, ‘Alkmaion, do you remember Neritos, the son of Kretheus? His father was Prefect of Phea. He drove the chariot that nearly beat my pair in the games we held for the Dorians.’
I remembered him then and said, ‘Of course! I was sorry we did not have a chance to meet then. I’m glad you are still in Pylos.’
He greeted me with formal courtesy but without warmth. My father went on, ‘Kretheus died just after the Spring Festival. It was Neritos’s mother who sent him here with his horses to compete in the race and asked me to take him under my protection.’
I turned to the stranger with a quick expression of sympathy. The sentiment was genuine for it struck me as hard that he should be sent away from home so soon after such a loss. Phea was at the other end of the country and he was among strangers in Pylos. I learned later that his mother was being courted by two new suitors and that this spectacle had so angered him that she had thought it best to send him away.
My father continued, ‘It has been in my mind for some while that it was time you had a young man of good breeding and suitable accomplishments to attend on you as your squire. Neritos comes to us with warm praise for his courage and his prowess as an athlete, and we have seen his skill at handling a chariot. Therefore I have decided to make him your charioteer. Does it please you?’
It pleased me very well, though I gave a passing thought to the fact that a charioteer was of little use to me when I had neither chariot nor horses of my own. I said, ‘It does indeed. I hope it will please Neritos as well.’
&n
bsp; ‘Who could fail to be pleased with such an honour?’ he returned, but his voice still held the same reserve.
My father said, ‘I place him in your care, Alkmaion. See that he is given a room near your own and make sure that he has all he needs.’
‘I will, sir,’ I promised, and took this as a sign that the interview was over. However, my father rose, saying, ‘Come with me. I have something to show you.’
We followed him outside. Neritos would have fallen in behind me but I checked my pace and let him catch me up so that we went on side by side. His expression had not changed but I felt him glancing at me out of the corner of his eye from time to time. My father led the way to the stables. Standing in the yard was a chariot and pair. I recognised the chestnuts at once as the pair Neritos had driven in the race, but the chariot was not the usual light racing rig but something much more elaborate. In fact, it struck me as rather too splendid for someone in his position.
‘You have brought your horses with you,’ I commented. ‘But why have they not been unyoked?’
Neritos looked as though he would have spoken but did not know what to say. My father went up to the pair and stroked their noses, speaking to them softly. He loved horses and they appeared to know it. Handling a good pair had always been his chief delight and he seemed very taken with these two.
‘Well, Alkmaion, what do you think of them?’
‘They are a fine pair,’ I responded. ‘I don’t think I have ever seen a better – apart from your own.’
He laughed delightedly and said, ‘That is as well, since they are yours. The chariot, of course, goes with them.’
I gazed at him, open mouthed and he laughed again, obviously pleased at having surprised me. Then I found my voice and stumblingly began to express my thanks but he cut me short, saying, ‘Come and have a good look at them. I was so impressed with them at the games that I made Neritos an offer for them immediately – with the added incentive that he came with them. I’m glad to say he accepted on both counts.’
