by Hilary Green
Winter came to an end at last but by now our needs were desperate. We had to confiscate the last few ewes and nanny goats to prevent them being slaughtered for meat, so that there would still be some milk for the children. The bread ration was cut yet again. The old and the weak began to die and we were forced to cremate them in the main square before the palace. Out in the fields there was no new growth of wheat. As Perimedes had predicted, the Dorians had not bothered to plant afresh. With the lengthening days and the growing heat came the first case of plague. In the crowded conditions, among people weakened by hunger it spread with terrifying speed. One of the first to succumb was Philaos, my father-in-law. I ordered Philona to remain in the house and to refuse entry to anyone except myself in the hope that this might save her and the children from the contagion.
One evening I returned from guard duty on the ramparts to find my door locked and barred. When I knocked the porter shouted from behind it that I must not enter.
'Fool!' I bellowed. 'Do you not recognise my voice? It is I, your master. Let me in.'
'Sir, forgive me!' came the reply. 'It is by the order of the mistress. Your son is sick and my lady is afraid that you may catch it from him. She begs you to go to the house of a friend and remain there until the danger is past.'
I hammered on the door, demanding to be let in. The thought of my beloved little boy suffering and perhaps near to death was unbearable. Worse still was the knowledge that in nursing him Philona was putting herself at risk. At length, she came herself and spoke to me through the closed door.
'My dearest, I beg you to be patient. The sickness may not be serious. Perhaps it it no more than a summer chill. But you must not risk yourself. You told me once that I had a duty to look after myself for you. Now I tell you that you too have a duty, to your people. You are their leader. They need you to remain strong. I have sent Electra to my cousin's house. Her children are still well. By the blessing of the Goddess they may remain so and she will be safe. Now go, my love. Sacrifice to the Goddess and pray for her protection. Come back in the morning to see how we are.'
I refused to listen to her. I thumped the door and threatened retribution on all those who did not obey me and when that was of no avail I collapsed, sobbing, on the threshold. It was there that Perimedes and Neritos, alerted by our neighbours, found me and almost dragged me back with them to Perimedes's house.
With the dawn came the message. Both my son and my adored wife were dead. I had wept for them all night, knowing how quickly and mercilessly the disease progressed. I had no more tears to shed. Now I was possessed by an icy fury. I rose to my feet and looked at my two friends.
'It is enough! Now Cresphontes will pay. I have suffered enough at his hands.'
Neritos sprang up. 'What do you mean? You cannot intend to go out against him.'
'I will not stay here, like a rat in a trap, waiting for the same death to claim me as has taken my wife and child. Better by far to die fighting, as long as I can first kill him. Do not try to stop me. I do not ask anyone to come with me. I will go alone, if need be. But I will go!'
Perimedes came to my side. 'Where you go, I go. That has always been the way. Let us make one last glorious stand and die as heroes, rather than perishing from this foul contagion.'
'And I will come with you, too,' Neritos said. 'How could I let you go without a charioteer?'
'And the men on Pylos will be behind you,' Perimedes assured me. 'They have been too long cooped up here, listening to the taunts of the enemy. They are desperate for a fight.'
'Then I will go to Melanthos and tell him what we have decided,' I said. 'I will not ask him to risk himself, but we must warn him of what we intend to do. You and Neritos rouse the others. Tell them that no man is obliged to follow me. I give no orders. They must choose for themselves.'
'Any man who chooses to stay behind will live dishonoured, even if he survives the plague,' Perimedes said. 'They will come.'
I made my way to the palace and found Melanthos in the throne room. As soon as I entered he jumped to his feet and came to me.
'Alkmaion! I've just heard. I am so sorry …'
I cut across his words without ceremony and told him what I intended. He caught hold of my hand and gazed at me with anguished eyes.
'Every fibre of my being is urging me to say I will come with you and we will fight side by side as we have so often in the past. But you know I must not. If I lead my men out to die a hero's death the city will be left unprotected and the Dorians will be free to lay it waste as they did Pylos. I cannot let that happen.'
I gripped his hand tightly. 'I know that. I do not ask you to sacrifice yourself. Athens may be the last flickering candle in a dark world. That light must not be put out. Only pray to the Mistress to strengthen my arm so that I may revenge myself on the man who has brought this misery to us. That is all I ask.'
'I will pray and make sacrifice to Her, and beg her to bring you safely home,' he responded.
I shook my head. 'That is something I do not hope for. I have nothing to come back for now.' Suddenly it came to me that all my hopes were not lost. In the misery of the death of my wife and son I had forgotten my daughter. 'There is one more thing I would ask of you. My daughter, Electra, still lives – or did yesterday. She is with Philona's cousin. Will you take her into your care, if she survives?'
'She shall be as my own child,' Melanthos promised. 'And when she grows old enough to understand I shall make sure that she knows her royal heritage.'
'Let her live peacefully as a private citizen. She will be happier that way.' I gripped both his hands. 'Farewell, my friend. May the favour of the Mistress go with you.'
We embraced with tears in our eyes and then I turned hastily away before I betrayed my manhood. In the courtyard outside my Companions were waiting for me. Not one of them had refused to heed the call. I mounted my chariot, the guards opened the great gate in the walls and we thundered through, Perimedes close behind me and all the others following. Once on the open plain we spread out into battle formation, myself and Neritos in the centre and slightly in advance, Perimedes on my right, the others stretching out to either side. As we approached the Dorian camp it was clear that we had taken them by surprise. We could see men scurrying from their tents, strapping on their armour as they went; but by the time we reached them they had formed their battle lines, a dense mass of shields many men deep.
It is our usual way, as I have said, to fight on foot with our chariots close at hand to carry us out of danger if the need arises, and as we reached the enemy lines my Companions halted and leaped down to face their opponents. But I yelled to Neritos to drive on and we galloped straight into the midst of them. Taken by surprise some of them jumped back to escape the flying hooves but then they rallied and men tried to seize the horses' bridles. Neritos held them off by slashing at them with his whip and I stabbed and thrust at all who came close enough to reach. All the time I was screaming the one word, 'Cresphontes! Cresphontes!'
Suddenly we were through the massed lines of men and into a clear space and there he stood, hands on hips, a mocking smile on his face. Neritos hauled the horses to a standstill and I leaped down and faced him.
'Cresphontes! This has always been a matter between the two of us. Let us now settle it once and for all in single combat. I will make a pact with you. If you kill me, my Pylians will withdraw back to the city and you will give them safe conduct. If I kill you, your army will pack up its tents and take ship for home and leave Athens in peace. Is it agreed?'
He laughed. 'Little prince! Why should I agreed to such terms? Your men are surrounded and Athens is starving. Victory is ours in matter of days. Why should I fight you?'
'Because,' I said, 'if you refuse you will stand exposed as a coward before your men and all will see that you put the safety of your own skin before your honour.'
It was the one challenge he could not refuse and I saw his eyes narrow as he understood. He drew his sword.
'Very
well, since you wish to put an end to your life, let us begin. But I make no promises. This is a matter, as you say, entirely between ourselves. The rest must fend for themselves as best they can.'
All round us, as if at a signal, the fighting had stopped and men who had been hacking at each other a moment ago now stood shoulder to shoulder to watch. He came at me, whirling his sword about his head so that the blade, catching the sun, seemed to draw circles of light on the air. I stood still, keeping my muscles loose and watching, not his sword but his eyes, so that when he made a sudden lunge my own blade came up in the same breath to turn his aside. For an instant I saw surprise in his eyes and knew that my tactics were the right ones. He came at me again, more fiercely. I gave ground, making no attempt to strike him, but parrying every thrust, letting him tire himself. I saw his anger and frustration grow and he ground out, 'Fight, coward! Is this the best you can do?'
I let him go on, his blows becoming wilder, until on one stroke he over-reached himself and left his head exposed. My blade flashed in and opened a long cut along his cheek, between the protecting flaps of his helmet. If victory had been to him who drew first blood, as in our fight all those years ago, it would have been over; but we both knew that nothing but the death of one of us would end this struggle. He growled in fury and came at me, battering my shield with violent blows that sent jolts of pain along my arm. I twisted away and flicked my sword point across his thigh, in the small gap between the bottom of his mailed tunic and the top of the greaves that protected his legs. The wound was not disabling, but the flow of blood was enough to weaken him if the fight was prolonged. He knew it and attacked with greater fury then ever. We closed and unexpectedly he changed his tactics and rammed his shield into my right shoulder with a force that sent me to my knees and made my sword arm go numb. With a cry of triumph he seized my helmet by the crest and dragged it off, pulling my head back and leaving my throat exposed. I saw his sword upraised for the final blow but at that moment the Goddess must have intervened. My arm regained its strength. I forced myself up from my knees, driving the sword upwards with all the strength of my body. The point went in beneath his chin and penetrated deep into his skull. For a moment his eyes goggled at me, as if he was unable to believe that I had snatched his victory from him, then he collapsed backwards and I dragged my blade free. Blood spurted from the wound, but it was obvious that Cresphontes was already dead.
I stooped and wiped my sword on the hem of his tunic, hearing the cheers of my Companions behind me.
I turned to them. 'It is finished. Let us return to the city.'
We remounted out chariots and no one attempted to prevent us. Cresphontes's men stood silent, seemingly unable to believe that their leader was dead. I gave Neritos the command to drive on and we led our small force back across the plain. As we went I became aware that there was blood on the rail of the chariot, and looking down saw that there was more pooling on the floor. I looked at my arms and legs and found no sign of a wound, and I felt no pain. The chariot jolted and Neritos slumped against me.
'Look where you are going!' I exclaimed. Then I saw that his eyes were closed and his face was deadly pale. I grabbed the reins and pulled the horses to a halt and half lifted, half dragged him from the chariot and laid him on the ground.
'Where are you hurt? What has happened?'
He shook his head, wordlessly. I struggled to loosen the straps of his armour and peeled away the breastplate. Then I saw that a sword point had penetrated from beneath the corselet and pierced his side. It must have happened during our reckless charge, but he had given no sign. His whole flank was covered in blood but as I watched the flow lessened. I ripped at the hem of my tunic, trying to make a bandage to staunch it but even as I did so I knew it was useless.
A chariot drew up beside me. Perimedes had seen that I had stopped and come back to discover the reason. He knelt by Neritos and I pointed to the wound. He shook his head.
'There is nothing we can do. It is too deep and he has lost too much blood.'
I cradled Neritos's head on my arm and stroked his face. 'My dear faithful friend. No triumph was worth your loss. Forgive me!'
He opened his eyes. 'I saw Cresphontes dead and you victorious. I can die happily. Take care of my boys.'
'With my life! They shall be as my own children.'
He smiled. 'We had some good races.'
'Yes, we did. And you were the best charioteer in the whole of Pylos. Greet my father for me and all our friends who have passed before us. Dexeus will be glad of your company.'
'And I his ….' The last words were so faint I hardly heard them. His eyelids quivered and closed and his body shuddered and was still. I kissed him in farewell and held him until I was sure that his spirit wandered on the shores of Acheron.
Perimedes's hand gripping my shoulder roused me. 'We must take his body back to the city and we have no time to waste. The Dorians are stunned for the moment but at any time now they will come to themselves and want revenge. Come, while we still have the chance.'
I saw the strength of his argument and we lifted Neritos's body into my chariot. I took the reins and drove the horses at the gallop back to the city gates. We were cheered from the ramparts as we approached and the streets of the city were crowded with people waving and calling their congratulations, but I felt no sense of triumph. My old enemy was dead, but I had not expected to return alive and now I had one more loss to mourn. Melanthos greeted us as we drew up outside the palace and embraced me with tears of joy, and my own men gathered round to clasp my hands and add their praises but as soon as I could I begged to be excused. There was only one place that offered any hope or consolation.
Electra greeted me with squeals of delight when I entered the courtyard of the house and ran to clasp her chubby arms about my knees. I picked her up and buried my face in her hair, breathing in the smell of her till she struggled and protested at being held so tightly. Then I put her down and examined her for any sign of the telltale harbingers of infection.
At my side, Chriseis, Philona's cousin, said quietly, 'She is well, Alkmaion. I have watched her closely and there is no sign of the disease. By the mercy of the Goddess it seems she may escape.'
I let her lead me away then and hand me over to her servants to be bathed and have my few slight wounds dressed. After that, I spent the rest of the day sitting in the courtyard in a kind of stupor, watching my daughter at play. That night I slept as deeply as if I had drunk poppy juice and woke at dawn to the sound of excited voices in the street beyond my window. I was still pulling on my clothes when Perimedes came to the door.
'Alkaion, come! There is something you must see. Quickly!'
He refused to explain what had happened but led me rapidly up onto the ramparts overlooking the Dorian camp. The walls were lined with men, all staring seawards, and below us the camp lay deserted, save for heaps of debris where the dogs were already scavenging. Far off, we could see the last stragglers trudging towards their ships.
'They have given up!' I murmured in amazement. 'But there was no pact, no agreement.'
'Perhaps there is some honour amongst them after all.' Melanthos had joined us.
Perimedes grunted. 'I doubt it. My guess is that they were glad to have an excuse to head for home. No doubt most of them were as fed up with the siege as we were. They must have been short of food by now. Probably only Cresphontes's authority kept them from heading for home long ago. Now he's gone …'
'Whatever the reason,' Melanthos said, 'the siege is ended and we are saved. And it is thanks to you, Alkmaion. There should be a great feast in your honour, but that will have to wait until we have secured fresh supplies. Tomorrow we will go in procession to Eleusis and give thanks to the Goddess for our deliverance.'
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
The procession took place as Melanthos had decreed and even before that men had been sent out to scour the region for food and firewood. There was little to be had. Like locusts, the Dorians had consumed e
verything that grew and left devastation behind them. The men had to go high into the hills to find trees for wood to burn and, equally as important, to rebuild our shattered homes. No new crops had been planted, but with the departure of the Dorians shepherds who had hidden themselves and their flocks in the remote valleys appeared, driving their beasts towards what they knew would be a good market. Messengers were sent northwards to Thebes and west to Corinth and ships set off for the islands off the coast. Some had already been pillaged by the invaders but from others came supplies of wheat and oil. Sooner than I had imagined possible Melanthos was able to hold the feast he had promised.
How I should have relished an occasion like that once! Everyone pressed around me, repeating their praise and hailing me as the saviour of the city and Melanthos's bard had already written a song re-telling the story of my fight with Cresphontes – a song which I knew would be carried by other bards into the courts of other rulers; those that still remained free, at least. I tried to enter into the spirit of the feast but there was a hollowness inside me that could not be filled.
As the days passed the people of Athens resumed the ways of their old lives. The streets of the city were cleansed, the land was ploughed and planted, houses were rebuilt. The plague lost its grip and the courtyards rang with the voices of children at play. I tried to join in the general relief but I could not banish the sorrow for what I had lost. One day I drove out to the estate that had once belonged to Philaos and was now mine. The house had been reduced to a blackened ruin and I wandered through the empty shell of it, remembering my first meeting with Philona, the shy girl trying so hard to fill the role of the lady of the house; remembering our marriage and the promise of new life that had come with it. Was I fated, I asked myself, never to have a settled home and a loving family?
