by Hilary Green
The following day Penthilos took me aside to make a request.
‘Beg your sister to give us a few minutes of her company. I have seen her only in the midst of crowds of people. By all means remain at hand yourself, but let me speak to her privately for a moment.’
I assented willingly and told him to wait for me in my favourite spot by the stream. Then I sent Andria to find Karpathia and when she came asked her to walk with me. When we were beyond the palace I said tenderly, ‘I am happy to see life beginning again for you, Karpathia.’
She answered softly, ‘We cannot tell yet. The Mistress must be consulted.’
‘The answer will be favourable. I am sure of it. And you? You are glad?’
She looked at me, then away. ‘I do not know.’
‘But do you like Penthilos?’
‘He is courteous … and gentle … I cannot tell whether I shall like him.’
I took her hand. ‘He is waiting for you by the stream and begs a few words in private. Will you let me take you to him? I shall wait nearby.’
I felt her tremble and she cast about her as if for a way of escape. ‘Karpathia,’ I said, ‘he is a man of honour. You have nothing to fear.’
She looked at me and I saw her pride reassert itself. ‘Very well. Let us go to him.’
I led her down to the grassy bank where Penthilos waited and seated her upon the rock where I had once found Sirios. Then I retired out of earshot and settled myself self-consciously under an olive tree with my back to them. It was a long wait.
At length Penthilos called my name and I rose to see them coming up the slope towards me. Karpathia's eyes were modestly downcast but her hand rested in his and her face no longer appeared to be carved out of ivory.
The following day my father and I, Penthilos and Karpathia, with a few attendants, made our way to the Holy Mountain. Once again I entered the Great Cave of the Mysteries, but this time only Karpathia passed into the sacred inner recesses. I followed her in my mind and trembled. While she was gone we made fitting sacrifices to the Thrice-Queen.
At length she returned with the Chief Priest. She was pale and swaying with exhaustion but as she stood before us she drew herself up and I saw once again the power of the Goddess in her. ‘The words of the Goddess are ‘Marry, and bear my worship to your new home, for the days are coming when I shall seek a new abode.’’
Penthilos started. ‘But the Lady is already worshipped in Mycenae, as She is here.’
My father said, ‘Let us not seek too deeply into the meaning of the oracle. It is sufficient that the anger of the Goddess is ended and She gives Her blessing to your marriage.’
The following day Karpathia’s betrothal to Penthilos was formally celebrated and two days after that he took his departure, promising to return again in the spring for the marriage itself. I escorted him to the borders of my father’s land and there parted from him with many expressions of friendship and goodwill.
Chapter 10.
The time of the vintage came and with it the celebrations that always accompany the harvest. Before the great religious festival that marks the end of summer and the waning power of the sun each village held its own feast when the first grapes were pressed. Alectryon suggested that we should join the celebrations at his estate and I was happy to agree, since I always felt more at my ease there than anywhere else. Yet when the day came I found myself possessed by an unaccustomed melancholy. There was something about the shortening days and the softer light which always laid a subduing hand on my spirit. As we strolled up to the little village where the workers lived the full moon hung low and swollen over the sea and the air was heavy with the scent of herbs.
Alectryon rested an arm on my shoulders. ‘Something is troubling you.’
I sighed and shook my head. ‘No, nothing important. I am often sad at this time of year. It makes me feel as if I had lived a thousand years and could remember them all.’
He laughed softly. ‘But aren’t they happy memories?’
‘Some of them.’ I looked at him. ‘This summer will be a happy memory.’
‘For me, too,’ he agreed. ‘But why be sad? The summer ends but we have many more ahead of us.’
‘I know,’ I said, forcing a smile. ‘Ignore me. It’s nothing.’
We reached the village and the people greeted us respectfully. They all knew and loved Alectryon, but I could see that they were a little over-awed by my presence. I hoped I was not going to dampen their enjoyment. The festivities began, as was proper, with due rites and sacrifices, but then the casks of wine from the previous vintage were opened and the night’s revelry began. I was tempted to withdraw quietly after a cup or two, but the village was famous for the quality and potency of its vintage and before long the faces around me looked more relaxed, the fires seemed to burn brighter and the music of the pipe sounded sweeter. Then Neritos ran up to me with his arms around the waists of two pretty girls, both of whom were carrying full wineskins. It would have been churlish to refuse when they offered to refill my cup.
Soon the young men rose to dance and Alectryon dragged me into the circle. I had always loved to dance. Any kind of movement where I felt my body supple and obedient, whether running or riding or in the graceful figures of the dance, gave me pleasure. The dances grew wilder and in between we refreshed ourselves with further draughts of wine, until, quite suddenly it seemed, most of the dancers had disappeared. I leaned against a tree trunk and peered round me. Neritos had gone and I had not seen Alectryon for some time. Then my eyes found him, standing alone on the other side of the fire. I waved, but I was beyond the firelight and he did not see me, so I started towards him. Then a girl ran up and caught his hand. From the way he turned and drew her to him I knew he had been waiting for her. I watched them walk away from the firelight and disappear among the trees.
Unsteadily I began to make my way down the path away from the village. There was a scuffle and a giggle behind me. I looked round. A pair of dark eyes in the pale oval of a face gleamed at me from the trees beside the path. I took a step towards them. They vanished with another giggle, to reappear a few yards further away. I plunged into the bushes in pursuit.
When we arrived back at the palace the following day I found that Sirios and his young apprentice had returned as unexpectedly as they had departed. Sirios was full of news and gossip from the courts of Mycenae and Tyrins and new songs learned from other bards, but when I tried to question him about his part in Penthilos’s visit he pretended not to understand me.
The great festival of the autumn equinox passed and I was relieved to find it quite different from the New Year Festival. Once it was over life began to fold in upon itself in preparation for winter.
One more event occurred, however, before the rains of winter came. With the fading of the year came the death of my great-uncle, old Peisistratos, the last remaining son of Nestor. I believe every member of the Royal Kin felt the breaking of this last link with the heroic past. Now Nestor and Odysseus, Helen and Menelaus lived in stories only. There was no one left who could remember them.
We buried him in the great domed tomb a little distance from the palace, where his brothers had been buried before him – except for the first Antilochos, who had left his ashes before the walls of Troy. His corpse was decked with rich grave ornaments and a mask of beaten gold covered his face. Round his body we set those objects he had treasured most during his life and sacred vessels of bronze and silver. We held a solemn feast and drank a toast to the spirit now beginning its long journey to the abode of the dead, and smashed our cups against the pillars that upheld the mighty lintel of the doorway. Then we returned to the city to prepare for the funeral games my father had ordered in his honour.
These games were on a far more magnificent scale than those held for Cresphontes and people thronged into the city from all over the country to take part in them. My father had provided an impressive array of prizes and every athlete in Messenia was eager to compete for them. Alectryo
n and I, and our two squires, were no exception and we had no reason to be disappointed in the results. Dexeus as usual won the archery contest and Neritos beat all comers in the wrestling, while Alectryon carried off the prize in the men’s footrace and the javelin. I won the footrace in my own age group but the event my heart was really set on was the chariot race.
Six chariots were entered. My father’s, driven as always by Telaon, my own and Alectryon’s made up three. The fourth was driven by Antilochos, who had acquired his own pair very soon after I received mine, and the last two belonged to other members of the Companionhood. I mounted the chariot and took the reins from Neritos. It seemed hard that this time he would not be driving. We had talked it over and I had offered to let him drive but he had shaken his head and said with his usual generosity, ‘It would not be right. They are your horses now. Besides, I had my chance. Now you must see if you can win for both of us.’
From the moment of the starting signal Antilochos went ahead, laying the whip hard across his horses’ backs and setting a cracking pace. ‘Fool!’ I thought. ‘They’ll never be able to keep this up.’ The course consisted of two laps, with a turning post at each end of an oval track. By the end of the first lap the two chariots belonging to the Companions were virtually out of the race. Antilochos still led, with myself and Telaon neck and neck behind him and Alectryon’s pair thundering hard on our heels. As we headed out away from the Royal Pavilion for the second time I could see Antilochos’s horses were flagging, although he plied the whip more vigorously than ever. ‘Now,’ I said to myself, ‘if I can overtake him and get to the turn first I shall win.’ I had deliberately kept on the outside of the leading chariot, forcing Telaon even further out and preventing him from boxing me in behind Antilochos. Now I called to my horses and touched them with the whip. They surged ahead and began to overtake Antilochos. I saw him turn and cast a furious glare behind him. Then he jerked the reins and his horses swung across, right into my path. If we had been any closer nothing could have prevented a collision. As it was I hauled on the reins and swung my chestnuts behind him as his animals careered, out of control, across the track. I had to bring my pair almost to a standstill and as I fought to get them under control another chariot thundered past on the inside. It was Alectryon’s. On my other side I was dimly aware of my father’s horses plunging off the track to avoid Antilochos, and then the way ahead was clear and I sent my pair flying after Alectryon’s. As we rounded the turning post, with only the length of a chariot pole between us, I heard the crowd shouting, but it was not a shout of encouragement for either of us. Glancing over at the opposite side of the track, where the mêlée had occurred, I saw my father’s horses running wild towards the sea and between them and the track the broken remains of the chariot, among which lay the still figure of Telaon. The picture was still in my mind as I thundered over the finishing line just behind Alectryon.
Neritos ran up and caught the horses’ heads. ‘That was deliberate! Antilochos fouled you!’
I jumped down and went to caress the sweating horses. ‘Yes, but it’s Telaon who suffered. Is he badly hurt?’
‘They are bringing him in now.’
He was alive, though at first sight it seemed impossible that such a battered and bleeding body could still hold life. My father stooped over the litter and spoke gently to him and then ordered his attendants to carry him to the palace and to place him in the care of the King’s physician. Then he turned with a face of stone and told the herald to proclaim the winners.
Alectryon took the first prize of a sword and shield while I received a gold cup and a sturdy little mare, which I gave to Neritos. But none of us had any pleasure in our victory. Alectryon, trying to cheer me, said, ‘Don’t let Antilochos’s dishonourable behaviour rob you of your triumph. You deserve the prize. If he had not fouled you, you would have won the race. I was badly placed and I doubt if I could have done better than third.’
I said. ‘It’s the thought of Telaon that grieves me. He is the innocent victim of Antilocos’s terrible jealousy.’
‘Well,’ Alectryon said grimly, ‘this time he has gone too far. His father will not be able to protect him from the King’s anger.’
When we returned to the palace my father sent for us and questioned us closely about what had happened. When he had assured himself that there was no doubt about Antilochos’s intentions he dismissed us and I hear him order one of the guards to tell the Lawagetas to attend on him. I never knew what passed between them, but that night Antilochos was missing from the feast and Paion’s face was black with anger.
The next day Perimedes sought me out and begged a few words in private. I led him to my own apartments and he said, blushing, ‘I want to beg your forgiveness for what Antilochos did yesterday.’
‘Did he send you?’
‘No.’ He met my eyes proudly. ‘But I ask on behalf of – of all my family.’
I said awkwardly, ‘Perimedes, I have no quarrel with you. What Antilochos does is his own responsibility. You have no need to be ashamed.’
He turned away and said darkly, ‘He shames us all.’
I laid my hand on his arm. ‘Don’t think that. Everyone knows you are not like him.’
He flung my hand off and glared back at me. ‘He is my brother.’
I hesitated, uncertain how to reach him. Eventually I said, ‘Where is he now? I haven’t seen him since yesterday.’
‘He has been sent out to the family estate. He is not to return until the King your father gives his permission.’
I paused again and then said, ‘Perimedes, I hope this will not cause bad feeling between us. I should be very sorry if it did, truly.’
He dropped his fierce pride. ‘Yes. So should I.’
‘Then let us agree that what Antilochos does makes no difference to us.’
He hesitated, then nodded and we embraced to seal the contract.
Winter came. I was more than ever employed in state business, although the condition of the roads made it impossible to travel as much as I had done. This gave me more time to consider my position among my contemporaries at court. We had grown up together and I had been a boy among boys. Now I needed to establish myself as their leader. I studied their characters and tried to find the right approach to each. I invited them to hunt or exercise with me, and dined in their houses. By mid winter I had gathered about me a close, loyal group of some of the most vigorous spirits, all equally filled with the desire for some honourable exploit. I did not mention the possibility of invasion to them, but I kept them busy practising swordplay and chariot manoeuvres even in weather that would have seen most people indoors by the fire. It was not long before people began to call this distinct little band ‘ the Prince’s Companions’.
Antilochos returned to court after the mid-winter festival. He made me a public apology in front of the whole Royal Kin and presented generous gifts to Telaon, who had survived to the amazement of all of us, though he would walk with a limp for the rest of his life. Antilochos himself seemed subdued and genuinely contrite, but I noticed before long that he had begun to gather around him all the misfits and malcontents of the court, in a kind of mirror image of my ‘Companions’.
My preoccupation with all this left me less time than before for Alectryon. One evening, a chill night in the coldest part of the year, we were dining together, sitting close to a fire of charcoal burning in a three-legged brazier in the centre of his room. He seemed more taciturn than usual and after a while I asked, ‘Are you not well? You’re very quiet tonight.’
He shook his head. ‘No, it’s not that. I was thinking, that’s all.’
‘Thinking of what?’
He looked at me with one of his wry smiles. ‘You. You have grown up so quickly over this winter.’
‘Is that a bad thing?’
‘No, of course not. It’s as I said to you when Penthilos was here. Things have to change.’
I felt a sudden sense of shock. ‘Change, yes. But this has nothi
ng to do with us.’
‘Doesn’t it?’
For the first time I saw the sadness in his eyes which he had tried to keep hidden from me. I left my chair and went to kneel beside him.
‘No, it doesn’t. Nothing has changed between us. Can you really believe I am so fickle?’
‘I never accused you of that. You have other things to occupy your mind, that’s all.’
‘Don’t you understand?’ I said. ‘It’s you who have given me the confidence to do what I am doing. Without you I should be lost. But I have been thoughtless and stupid. I never meant to hurt you.’
He looked down into my face and pushed my hair back with a familiar gesture.
‘I’m not trying to hold you back. You know you are free to do as you wish.’
‘Idiot!’ I groaned, reaching up to him. ‘I don’t want to be free!’
After that night he was his old self again and I made sure that my companions recognised him as their leader, on an equal footing to myself.
With the first days of spring came a messenger from Mycenae to say that Penthilos would come to claim his bride as soon as the New Year Festival was over. All through the winter I had watched Karpathia. It was like watching a seed hidden in the dark earth and waiting for spring. Since Penthilos’s proposal she had ceased to fade and wither and her body had filled out, but she was still withdrawn, closed in on herself, her whole being arrested in the one state of passive waiting.
I was with my father when he sent for her to tell her the news. She received it without apparent emotion and we were both saddened by her lack of response, but from that day on we began to see a change in her. At first she was too proud and self-contained to let her joy and eagerness be seen by any but those closest to her but as she grew more absorbed in the preparations for her wedding a radiance began to shine from her that nobody could have mistaken. I realised that all this time she had been in love, and growing more so every day.
