by Hilary Green
Plowistos, the month for sailing again, came round. The days were bright and clear and the sun regained its strength. Out on Alectryon’s estate Nequeus started breaking in my white colt. Alectryon and I celebrated the first anniversary of the beginning of our friendship with offerings to the gods and a small dinner party for our closest friends. The only shadow on my happiness was the thought of the imminent New Year Festival. The memory of last year still filled me with terror and as the time approached I began to fear that I should not be able to force myself to go through the ritual again, even though the priestess who represented the Goddess and Her chosen consort would be as unknown to me as to the rest of the assembly. I performed my part in the ceremonies of purification on the day before in a dreamlike state. Then came the day of the New Wine. It was Alectryon who filled and refilled my cup until the divine ecstasy of the Goddess overtook me. From then on I closed my mind to memory until the third night, when I stood once more upon the mountaintop before the leafy bower that enclosed the Sacred Couch, and heard in the darkness the faint hymn beginning. I stood still, listening, sensing the breathing of the waiting throng about me. Last year the rite had meant only horror for me. Now, for the first time, I sensed its power. With the lighting of the torches and the cry of rejoicing my spirit flew free like a bird from a snare and the world for me, as for everyone about me, was regenerate. I felt the hot tears on my cheeks, and brushed them away to take my place at the banquet of rejoicing.
The next day my father despatched a ship under Skamon, his best captain since the loss of Kerkios, to visit the Dorians and bring back news of any further developments. And I increased the frequency of our exercises in chariot fighting.
This was soon put out of our minds, however, by the arrival of Penthilos. He came as fits a prince going to his bridal, attended by a train of young noblemen and bearing rich gifts. I looked at him when we met and thought that Karpathia would not be disappointed. Penthilos, however, cannot have been prepared for the change in her, for when my father led her forward to greet him I saw his lips part in wonder and he became quite speechless and confused. From that moment they had eyes only for each other.
Alectryon, watching them together, remarked, ‘Penthilos is a lucky man. He came seeking a suitable alliance, and found the love of his life.’
The marriage celebrations lasted several days and the palace of Nestor can never have seen greater feasting or more lavish gifts. The megaron and the courtyard were filled every day with a throng of people dressed in the richest and most colourful fabrics and bright with jewels, for the men of my father’s court were not going to be outshone by those from Mycenae and there was much comparing of the latest fashions in both cities.
When the time came for them to leave we renewed our pledges of friendship and I repeated my promise to visit Mycenae in the summer. Karpathia and I parted with tears and kisses. For a short time we had regained the closeness of our childhood but now, I knew, we would inevitably grow apart again. Still, I could only rejoice to see her go, radiant with such happiness, and comforted myself with the thought of frequent visits.
After their departure the court relapsed into a kind of exhausted lethargy, like a man sleeping off the effects of too much feasting. There was a lull even in state business and my father expressed a desire to see Pedasos, the colt whom he had heard me praise so often. Alectryon and I escorted him out to the farm and Nequeus led us out to the paddock behind the house. The colt lifted his head and whinnied when he saw us. He had grown into a magnificent animal. His coat was almost pure white and his flowing mane and tail shone almost silver in the sunlight. He approached us, lifting his feet delicately, ears pricked, his dark, intelligent eyes flickering from one face to another. Over the year since Alectryon gave him to me I had contrived, in the middle of all my other duties, to visit him regularly and he knew me and came to nuzzle my hand in search of titbits. I had picked up a handful of wheat and he took it with soft lips, blowing warm breath over my wrist. I stroked his sleek neck and rubbed him behind the ears, looking across him to my father.
'Well, what do you think of him?'
'He is a horse worthy of a prince,' was his answer. 'And a gift worthy of the giver,' he added smiling at Alectryon. 'Is he broken in yet?' This last to Nequeus.
'I have accustomed him to the bridle and he is used to me leaning over his back and resting my weight on him, but I have not mounted him,' Nequeus replied. 'I thought the first man to do that should be the prince.'
I caught my breath with excitement. 'Shall I try … now?'
'He's ready,' Nequeus said. 'This is as good a time as any.'
He fetched the bridle and Pedasos allowed him to slip the bit into his mouth without protest. It was easy to see that he had always been so kindly handled that he had no fear. I ran my hand along his neck and then over his spine, then leaned my body across his back. He shifted his feet but made no other movement.
Alectryon stepped closed. 'Let me give you a leg-up. Better not to leap onto him the first time.'
I bent my knee and he grasped my leg and lifted me so that I could swing my other leg over and settle gently onto the horse's back. He jerked his head up and his ears flicked back towards me but he stood still. I picked up the reins and said softly, 'Walk on, Pedasos.' I accompanied the words with the lightest pressure of my calves against his side and to my delight he walked forward, tossing his head but making no attempt to unseat me.
I walked him once round the paddock and was tempted to push him into a trot, but I knew it was wise not to ask too much of him at one time. There would be plenty of other opportunities to ride him. I slipped off and handed the reins to Nequeus.
'You have done a wonderful job with him, Nequeus. I'll leave him here with you for a few months longer, but I'll come more often now and we can school him together.'
My father added his compliments and then we let the colt go free and returned to the house for refreshments. Towards evening we set off back to the palace and, as we came in sight of the sea, we saw a ship heading in towards the haven. She was under sail, but the rowers were pulling at the oars as if they wished to make all possible speed.
My father turned in his chariot and called, ‘That is Skamon’s ship. Let us drive straight down to the shore and see why he is in such a hurry.’
I looked at Alectryon and caught his eye. His face was grave and I felt fear stir in my belly. Our charioteers urged on the horses and we sped down to the seashore, arriving just as the crew were beginning to disembark. Skamon saw us and came hurrying forward but before he could reach us another figure leapt down from the ship, ran forward and flung himself down to clasp my father’s knees in the attitude of a suppliant. He was a boy whose garments, dishevelled as they were, proclaimed him of good birth and as he lifted his face to my father I realised with a shock that I knew him.
‘Noble Sillos,’ he cried, ‘I beg your protection! For the sake of the friendship between our houses receive me as a suppliant.’
My father stooped to raise him, his lips beginning to frame a question. I stepped in and answered it for him.
‘This is Thaleus, sir. The second son of King Persepolis of Ithaca.’
‘Thaleus?’ My father drew the boy to his feet and looked into his face. He nodded dumbly. ‘What sends the son of Persepolis to me as a suppliant?’
Thaleus swallowed and turned away his face, which was already streaked with tears. Skamon said, ‘The Dorians, my lord. They attacked his people and drove them out of the city. The prince here and one or two companions escaped to the other end of the island. When they saw us coming they rowed out in a small boat and intercepted us. Otherwise we should have sailed straight into a Dorian trap.’
My father turned his head and looked at me. I stared back into his eyes. Then he turned to Thaleus and said gently, ‘Your father?’
The boy gulped. ‘Dead. He fell in front of the gates of the palace.’ He paused and added, ‘They wouldn’t let me fight.’
I laid
my hand on his shoulder. ‘And your brother Opheltas? Dead also?’
He nodded and a tear splashed on my wrist. I looked up at my father. ‘This is Cresphontes’s doing.’
Thaleus lifted his head and sniffed. ‘No. The leader was a man called Temenos. He sent a message to my father telling him to surrender.’
My father gripped him by the shoulders and said, ‘How many Dorians, Thaleus?’
The boy shook his head helplessly. ‘I cannot tell. There were hundreds of them. Ship after ship, each one filled with armed men. They seemed to cover the beach. Our men were only a handful beside them. It was hopeless. Then there were crowds of them, storming up the streets. Their swords are made of iron, and they killed everyone they met. Sir, I beseech you – revenge my father!’
‘Ithaca, the realm of Odysseus, is in the hands of the Dorians. His last descendant is here among us, begging our help against the men who killed his father. And he has good cause to turn to us. His grandmother was a daughter of Nestor, and the houses of Neleus and Odysseus are sworn to amity and mutual assistance. Already the Dorians have killed one of our men and we have let the deed go unavenged. Let us now arm ourselves and go out to show them that they cannot lightly attack those who have the friendship of the descendants of Neleus!’
It was my voice, ringing out in the torch-lit megaron. Around me the men of the Royal Kin sat grave faced. I went on, ‘We have let these Dorians think that our courage had left us. Let us show them that it is not so, before we find their black ships running ashore on our own beaches. I have sworn friendship with the sons of Persepolis and the blood of Opheltas cries out to me for revenge.’
Antilochos was on his feet now. ‘Are we to shed our blood to redeem your pledges? I prefer to consider the good of our own people.’
‘Then consider it, Antilochos!’ I cried. ‘We must show these Dorians that we are not going to sit idle and wait to be attacked. Do you want Pylos to suffer the same fate as Ithaca?’
‘What?’ Paion rumbled. ‘Does the Prince still suggest that we might be overcome by a rabble of barbarians? The line of Odysseus is noble indeed but the people of Ithaca are a mere handful compared to ourselves. I have maintained from the first that the Dorians will not dare to attack us, or if they are so foolhardy we shall drive them into the sea at the first charge. I still maintain it. The Pylian army under my command is a match for any in the world.’
‘Then let them prove it!’ Melanthos was on his feet now. ‘Let us drive the Dorians out of Ithaca.’
‘Once again I ask why we should shed our blood for the men of Ithaca,’ Antilochos shouted.
Echelaon raised his hand for silence and said, ‘On this point I am inclined to agree with Antilochos. Persepolis is dead, and so is his eldest son. Thaleus is too young to rule and the handful of boys who escaped with him is all that is left of the nobility of Ithaca. I can see little to be gained by driving out the Dorians.’
‘Only honour,’ I cried. ‘Does that mean nothing today?’
‘Prince Alkmaion, you have always placed honour before prudence,’ said Paion. ‘You must not now place it before the good of your country.’
I turned in despair towards my father, who said, ‘Alkmaion, the Lawagetas and your uncle Echelaon are right. We must think first of what is best for Pylos. Let us therefore concentrate our minds on preparing for an invasion, should it come.’
‘But sir,’ I exclaimed, ‘may not our best defence lie in a sudden and swift attack? The Dorians must have suffered some losses and they have not had time yet to reorganise. We might cripple them now with an unexpected blow.’
My father said, ‘We do not know what the Dorians’ position is, nor exactly where their main force is to be found. We must have more information.’
Andropompous put in mildly, ‘After all, we have no proof that they have any hostile intention towards us. It may well be that they will be content with Ithaca. It is a fair prize.’
Peisistratos the Younger rose abruptly. ‘There are many in Pylos who would prefer to think so, rather than risk their lives for the sake of honour.’
He was normally a quiet man, never quick to anger or apt to speak without considering his words and this sudden outburst surprised us all. He went on, ‘My father was the devoted friend of Telemachos, the son of Odysseus. Now his grandson cries to us for help and I am amazed to find my own kin too occupied with anxiety for their own skins and their own lands to heed that cry.’
Andropompous had recovered from his amazement and burst out, ‘Do you suggest, Peisistratos, that those are my motives? I am willing to sail tomorrow, if need be, but I am attempting to give the wisest council in my power. I do not need to remind you that I have spoken face to face with Temenos and he has assured me that he has no hostile intentions towards us. My lord Echelaon has rightly pointed out that there is little to be regained by a reconquest of Ithaca. What purpose is there, then, in shedding Messenian blood?’
I cried out, ‘Do not be led astray by Temenos’s lies, Andropompous. The Dorians mean to attack us all. They are calling themselves the Sons of Heracles.’
There was a dead silence in the megaron and I saw my father gazing at me, tight lipped. I set my jaw obstinately. It was time their eyes were opened.
Paion said heavily, ‘May I ask the Prince to explain that last remark?’
My father said curtly, ‘Alkmaion is referring to an old prophecy that the sons of Heracles would return in the third generation to conquer the lands that were once his. Temenos and his brothers are calling themselves the sons of Heracles, but since Messenia never belonged to him I cannot see that the prophecy has any relevance to us.’
The silence continued while each man present weighed the implications of this revelation.
I said, ‘I do not believe in the prophecy, but I believe the Dorians will make it an excuse for attacking us.’
‘Let us therefore,’ my father said, ‘take steps to find out how serious a threat this is.’ Paion began to rumble a protest but my father cut him short. ‘You will forgive me, my lord the Lawagetas, but I think we must consider that there is a threat. I will consult with all of you in due course about the measures to be taken, but for now I propose to send a ship to our allies in Pleuron. They lie to the north of the gulf and their lands are close to those of the Dorians. If there has been any large-scale movement of people they will know of it. Until then I beg you all to say nothing that might alarm the general populace.’
When the council broke up I went straight to the room that had been given to Thaleus. I hoped to find him sleeping but he was still awake and came anxiously towards me.
‘What is the news? When will your father send an army to revenge my father?’
I laid my hand on his arm. ‘I am sorry, Thaleus, deeply sorry. There will be no army. I fought for it with all my power but my father and my uncles have decided against it. They cannot see what would be gained by reconquering the island when there are so few of you left to rule it.’
He jerked his arm free and turned away. ‘So this is the worth of the friendship of the sons of Nestor!’
I tried to reason with him but he would not speak to me again and I saw that I was only succeeding in driving him nearer to the end of his overstretched endurance, so I left him to himself. Bitterly, I left the palace and headed for Alectryon’s house. He was waiting for me at the gate.
‘What news?’
I shook my head. ‘None. My uncles will not fight and my father dare not force them.’
The following morning I found my father giving his orders to Alxoitas, the Chief Steward, in the privacy of his own apartments, as he always did when there were matters to be discussed which he did not wish to become part of general palace gossip. His face was strained and his eyes more deeply sunk than ever. I guessed he had slept little. My eyes were heavy also, for Alectryon and I had lain awake most of the night going over and over every aspect of the situation.
My father greeted me and said, ‘You have come at the rig
ht moment. I am about to deal with matters arising from yesterday’s news. Alxoitas, I want a ship made ready for a voyage to Pleuron. Not a merchant ship, the fastest we have. One of the thirty-oared war galleys.’
Alxoitas would have considered it a failure in his duty to express either surprise or curiosity. ‘Very good, my lord. A crew will have to be levied.’
‘Naturally. Call in thirty of the best men and tell them they will be well rewarded if they make good speed. Ask the Counts Hoplomenos and Dikonaros to attend me. I am sending them to Pleuron. Also I want a full list of all warships and the men available to man them and I want an inspection carried out to see that they are all sea-worthy. I want the inventory checked of all the chariots in the kingdom. I want to know how many, what condition they are in and whom they belong to. I also want a complete check made of all the armour and weapons in the palace armoury. Have you understood all that?’
Alxoitas’s eyes were fastened on my father’s face. He nodded slowly. ‘I understand, my lord.’
‘And, Alxoitas – there is no need for word of this to go all round the palace. Your scribes need know no more than their own individual tasks.’
‘I understand, my lord. You may rely on me.’
My father smiled briefly. ‘You are one of the few men on whom I do rely, absolutely. That is all now.’
The steward withdrew and my father turned to me. ‘You see, I do not intend to sit idle and allow the Dorians to have it all their own way.’
‘I never imagined you would, sir,’ I returned.
‘Yesterday I had the impression that you thought me too slow to respond to the danger.’
‘Sir,’ I replied, ‘I do not presume to criticise you. It is just that I feel certain that our best form of defence lies in attack.’
He gave me a grim little smile. ‘Perhaps it does, Alkmaion, but not until we have the leaders of the people behind us. If the danger is as great as you imagine perhaps the news from Pleuron will shake them out of their complacency. Meanwhile, there is enough to be done here. No attack can be mounted until we have checked that every ship is sea-worthy and every man can be armed.’
