by Hilary Green
As we reached the outskirts of the city people came out to watch us pass and many saluted me. Penthilos smiled, ‘It is easy to see you are much loved, Prince Alkmaion.’
I kept those words in my heart a long time.
At the palace gates the slaves were waiting to take the horses heads and I led Penthilos into the courtyard. My father was waiting under the porch with the rest of the Royal Kin to greet him with fitting ceremony. There had been no time to prepare a feast of suitable grandeur so we dined simply. I noticed Penthilos making a careful scrutiny of everyone present and reflected that his brother, the High King, would no doubt be interested in his report on the Royal Household of Pylos. Fortunately my Uncle Paion was doing his best to impress and managed to be quite affable, while Antilochos produced that smooth charm which he could affect so easily when he wished.
As the meal drew to a close Penthilos remarked, ‘Your bard, Sirios, has praised the beauty of the ladies of the Royal House of Neleus. I hope we shall see them tonight?’
My father smiled at the compliment and replied that they would join us very soon.
‘Let me see,’ Penthilos pursued. ‘You have a daughter, I believe.’
I saw my father’s face cloud. ‘Yes, I have, Prince. Karpathia. But I fear she has not been well for some time.’
‘Indeed? What is wrong with her?’
My father shook his head. ‘Who can say? When the Gods lay their hands on a mortal, who can tell what ails them?’
Penthilos frowned and responded, ‘Let us hope there is some other cause, for which a cure may be found.’
At that moment the ladies entered the hall. Karpathia was leading them and I guessed that my father had sent her instructions to be present out of courtesy to our guest, for she usually refused to appear. My father rose and led Penthilos forward to introduce him. I saw Karpathia’s eyes flicker up to his face and then drop to the ground again. She was paler and thinner than ever now, but once or twice during the evening I noticed Penthilos looking in her direction. Indeed, even in her sickness, there was something about her face to draw the eye. Her eyes had always been large, and dark like my own. Now they dominated her face, and her skin was white as ivory against the black of her hair.
The next days were given up to entertaining Penthilos and the duty of looking after him largely devolved upon me. I had no objection, since I found him good company. There was hunting and feasting, music, dancing and games and he was lavish in his appreciation of everything.
On the second day, as we drove home from the hunt, he said to me, ‘It is a pity your sister does not join us. Is she really so ill?’
I hesitated, not knowing what to say. ‘It seems so. She cannot be persuaded to take any interest in life.’
He sighed. ‘It is sad. She is very beautiful. Everything your bard, Sirios, has told us is true, then.’
‘What has Sirios told you?’ I asked, aghast.
‘That she accidentally offended the Goddess and has since lived almost completely in retirement.’
I swallowed and nodded. ‘Yes, that is so.’
He frowned. ‘Has anything been done to ascertain the Goddess’s will? Since the offence was accidental it seems hard the poor girl should suffer like this. Or did some oracle tell her of the Goddess’s doom?’
I shook my head. ‘There has been no need of that. We have watched her wither and no physician can find the cause for it.’
‘But is it not possible that she herself has mistaken the Goddess’s intentions? If she could be persuaded to take part in the pleasures of life at court again perhaps she would begin to recover.’
I gave a short, sorrowful laugh. ‘Then you must try to persuade her yourself, Prince. I have tried again and again without success.'
‘Perhaps I will,’ he returned lightly. I looked at him quickly, trying to read his intentions, but he turned away and shortly changed the subject.
That night after supper we retired to my father’s apartments to talk privately. For some time I listened while he and Penthilos discussed affairs of state. At length Penthilos brought up the question of defensive walls but my father put aside all suggestion of danger with a smooth show of confidence that made it seem as if he had never heard of the Dorians.
Penthilos, however, was not to be so easily put off. ‘You are fortunate in the situation of your kingdom, my lord. In this quiet corner the whole world seems peaceful. But I assure you it is not so. Every merchant captain and every foreign ambassador who comes to my brother’s Court brings the same story. Every civilised nation reports the movement of barbarian peoples on their borders. Many have already had to fight them off, and their numbers are growing. Our traders in Ugarit and Alalakh speak of mounting unease among the rulers. Even Egypt is worried. If this movement continues to spread westwards, as it appears to be doing, who is to say that we shall not one day find the barbarians pressing on our northern frontiers?’
My father replied, ‘I have heard similar rumours from my own merchants, Prince, but I cannot see these rude hordes as a real threat to cities like ours. Anyway, here in Pylos we have always preferred to rely on good men and good equipment rather than on walls – not that I wish by that, you understand, to infer any slight on the army of Mycenae. Everyone knows that that is second to none.’
Penthilos was too tactful to press the argument further and after a pause he changed the subject. ‘I was glad to see your daughter Karpathia among the other ladies this morning. I find it hard to believe nothing can be done to help her.’
My father returned gravely, ‘I fear she has little to hope for, Prince, and that, no doubt, weighs as heavily upon her as the anger of the Goddess.’
‘Surely,’ Penthilos said, ‘it is possible for her to marry?’ He paused a moment and added, ‘Of course, I have no experience of these matters myself. I am not married, though my brother Tisamenos often tells me that I should look for a lady of suitable birth to be my wife.’ Then he rose and, making the excuse that the day’s festivities had tired him, retired to his room.
When he had gone I turned to my father. ‘Does he mean what I take him to mean?’
My father nodded slowly, a smile beginning somewhere in the depths of his beard. ‘At all events, I think we have discovered the purpose of Prince Penthilos’s visit.’
‘To woo Karpathia?’
‘Shall we say, to see if Sirios’s praises were justified, and if the marriage was possible.’
‘Can he really intend to marry her?’ I asked.
My father raised his hand warningly. ‘We must not come to hasty conclusions. All we can say at this moment is that he wished to sound my feelings in the matter.’
‘But why should Penthilos come seeking a woman … in Karpathia’s position?’
‘Remember,’ my father said, ‘ he is not the legitimate son of Orestes. Though his reputation is good and his brother obviously reposes complete trust in him, that could be a bar to his forming an alliance suitable to his position. Then again, Messenia is the second most powerful kingdom in the Peloponnese. Tisamenos would look far for a better alliance. Had Karpathia not been destined for the service of the Goddess many princes would have been here seeking her hand while she was still a girl.’
‘Will you consent if he asks for her hand?’
‘It would be very foolish to refuse. But then, there is the question of Karpathia herself.’
‘She must do as you bid her.’
He looked at me. ‘Alkmaion, the girl is dying. If nothing can be found to lift her out of her despair she will not outlast the winter. Would it be of any use to betroth her to Penthilos if she dies before the marriage ceremony?’
‘But perhaps this might be just what she needs. You said yourself that she had nothing to hope for.’
‘That is what I am thinking. So we must do our best to see that she is in Penthilos’s company as much as possible. If he can rouse her liking and still wishes to make the match then I believe we may save her.’
‘But wh
at of the Goddess?’
‘If matters proceed as I hope, we will consult the oracles and seek to discover Her will. It may be that Penthilos’s arrival is a sign that She has already relented.’
The next day, when the sun began to sink and the air grew cooler, I sent Andria to my sister to ask her to walk with me in the olive grove. When she came it seemed to me that her eyes held something more than the blank despair I had almost come to expect. It was a hint only, a trace of interest or curiosity, but at least I felt that she wished to hear what I had to say.
I took her hand, which lay cold and small in mine, and we wandered down the slope towards the stream.
‘How are you?’
Her only response was a little movement of her shoulders. She no longer wore the ritual dress of a priestess with its tight bodice that left the breasts bare, but the simpler robe of a court lady. It made her look younger and more fragile. I remembered her terrifying dignity in the days of her priestesshood and saw how it had become frozen into this obstinate despair.
I said, ‘It’s curious, but even though you have grown so thin lately you have grown more beautiful than ever. Prince Penthilos has praised your beauty to me more than once.’
Her eyes flickered up to me and then away again.
‘I must say,’ I went on, ‘I find him a very pleasant companion. Also, of course, he has a reputation for courage and wisdom that I should say is well deserved – and he’s a splendid athlete. It is strange, is it not, that a man in his position, with his looks and accomplishments, is not married?’
For a moment she looked me full in the eyes. I had guessed, rightly it seemed, that she had not permitted herself to ask that question, even of her handmaids.
‘Tomorrow,’ I went on, ‘I am taking him to see the royal herd of horses up on their summer pastures. You should come, Karpathia. The air is pleasant in the mountains and you have scarcely left the palace for months now. Will you?’
She began to shake her head but I clasped her hand tightly and said, ‘Don’t refuse, my dear, please! If you will not do it to please yourself, at least give us the pleasure of your company. Do not turn yourself away from us so completely.’
She looked up at me, her eyes searching my face. Then she nodded and said huskily, ‘Very well, I will come.’
I took both her hands and said, ‘Karpathia, believe me. I am sure the Goddess is no longer angry. Try to escape from the shadows you have hidden among and perhaps She will show you favour.’
She bent her head and warm tears fell on my hand. I put my arm round her and held her against my shoulder and for a moment we stood quietly together. Then she drew back, brushing away the tears with the back of her hand, and said, ‘Dear Alkmaion, I will try. But I do not think there can be any escape for me.’
‘There can!’ I cried. ‘I am sure of it. Only try to live again!’
She reached up and kissed my cheek with a faint, wistful smile. ‘Very well. I will try.’
She kept her promise to join us the following morning. Several other ladies were to accompany us also, together with a party of my father’s Companions. I noticed that Karpathia was looking even more striking than usual but it was a moment before I realised that she had painted her eyes and lips like the other ladies, something she had not troubled to do for some time. However, her general demeanour had not changed and she remained quietly on the fringe of the crowd, her eyes gazing ahead of her without expression.
The procession of chariots wound up into the mountains. After we had inspected the horses, stools were set and rugs spread in the shade of some trees and refreshments were served. I noticed that Penthilos had contrived to find a seat near the ladies and went over to join him. He was at his most charming and the other ladies vied for his attention. Karpathia sat silent, but from time to time she raised her eyes for a second or two to look at him and I thought a faint flush of colour tinged her cheeks.
That evening Penthilos requested a private audience with my father. I lurked in the courtyard outside the royal apartments until my father came to his door and called me in. He was smiling.
‘Prince Penthilos has just asked for your sister’s hand. I have told him that nothing would please me better, but that the will of the Goddess must be ascertained before I give my consent. Also, he understands Karpathia’s position and is willing to listen to her wishes in the matter. I have sent for her so that we may discover them.’
Karpathia appeared a few moments later. I think she had expected our father to be alone but she responded to Penthilos’s presence by no more than a stiffening of her body and a lowering of her eyes.
My father went to her and took her hand, saying gently, ‘Karpathia, Prince Penthilos does us the honour of asking for your hand in marriage. You have been much distressed of late and he knows the reason for this. Therefore, he is prepared to abide by your answer. I need not describe to you the honour of the position he is offering you, for as his wife you would be second only to the Queen in Mycenae. We all desire your happiness and long for you to cast off the shadows that lie upon you, and the love of a noble gentleman like Prince Penthilos should make that possible for you. What answer can you give him?’
Karpathia did not raise her eyes. ‘How can the Prince desire to marry one whom the Goddess has rejected?’
Penthilos came forward. ‘I do not believe it is so, lady. On the night after your bard Sirios first told me about you I had a dream, and I believe it was sent by the Goddess. I was in a vineyard and the harvest was in progress. All around me men were picking the grapes. In the centre of the vineyard was a vine more beautiful and more fruitful than the rest but no one was picking the grapes from it. When I asked why they told me that it was accursed and would poison anyone who touched it, but then a voice spoke to me, saying, ‘Pluck this fruit, Penthilos, for it is yours and yours alone.’ So I plucked the grapes and pressed the juice and immediately it became the sweetest wine I had ever tasted. I believe that you are that vine, lady. The next morning I determined to set forth as soon as possible to see you, and now I am more than ever convinced that my dream was a message from the Mistress Herself. But I have agreed with your father that we should again consult Her will, provided that you will it also.’
Slowly Karpathia lifted her eyes to his. ‘If the Goddess will permit it, I shall be willing also.’
Penthilos thanked her formally and kissed her hand, after which she begged leave to retire. When she had gone I congratulated him warmly and he said, laughing, ‘The ties between our houses cannot be too strong. We must see if we can find a princess of Mycenae to suit your tastes, Alkmaion.’
I hesitated, for nothing was further from my mind than marriage, but my father put in smoothly, ‘Alkmaion is a trifle young for marriage yet. When the time comes our eyes may well turn to Mycenae.’
‘Of course,’ said Penthilos. ‘I understand. Besides,’ he grinned and clapped me on the shoulder, ‘I know the Prince’s affections are elsewhere at the moment. The Count Alectryon is an excellent gentleman and a fitting companion for a prince. But that will pass in a year or two.’
The words were lightly spoken but they echoed in my heart for a long time. That night in bed Alectryon and I discussed the events of the day, as was our habit. He was delighted by the news of Penthilos’s proposal but as always was sensitive to my mood.
‘You are sad, my dear. What is it?’
I told him what Penthilos had said. He sighed and commented, ‘It’s true, you will have to marry – and sooner rather than later. In fact, I am surprised that we have not already had embassies from Mycenae or Athens or Crete offering you the hand of some princess or other.’
I groaned. ‘I don’t want to think about it!’
‘Oh come!’ he tugged my hair playfully. ‘Is it such a terrible prospect? After all, as I remember it, you are not entirely averse to feminine company.’
‘But to be tied to someone you have never met and may not even like …!’ I protested.
He dropped hi
s teasing manner. ‘Your father is a good man. I cannot believe he would force you into a marriage that was not to your taste.' Then, as if the idea had only just occurred to him, ‘You’re not harbouring a secret passion for some other lady, are you?’
I looked him in the eyes. ‘Have you ever seen me look at a woman since that night in Cresphontes’s village?’
‘No,’ he said gently. ‘I was joking.’
We were silent for a minute. Then I said, ‘You will have to marry too. You must produce an heir.’
He yawned and rolled onto his back. ‘There’s no hurry for me. No kingdoms depend upon a suitable alliance cemented by my marriage. It can wait until I’m thirty – longer perhaps. If anything happens to me in the meantime the land will go to Nequeus. He cares more for it than I do.’
‘He wouldn’t make such a good member of the Companionhood, though,’ I commented.
‘No,’ he agreed. ‘Perhaps not.’ He turned towards me again and grinned. ‘I’ll tell you what. You and I will go on our travels again until we find two beautiful foreign princesses to bring back as our brides. How’s that?’
I knew he was trying to tease me out of my melancholy but Penthilos’s words had struck too deep for that. I tried to smile in return.
‘As long as it’s a very long voyage before we find them.’
He put his arm round me. ‘Don’t look so tragic. The time will come, but the next few years are ours.’
‘But when one of us does marry,’ I said, ‘everything will have to change.’
‘Perhaps. But things are always changing. Life doesn’t stand still. You know that. Change doesn’t have to be a bad thing.’
I moved closer to him, feeling tears sting the back of my eyes. ‘I don’t want to lose you!’
He sighed. ‘I wish I could promise you that that would never happen, that I shall always be here. But if I did some listening God might decide to punish me for my presumption. No one can tell what may happen. But I will swear this to you. As long as I live you will always have my love. No one on earth, man or woman, can alter that.’
He kissed me then, and I forgot my fears in his embrace.
