The Guardian's Legacy

by Luciana Cavallaro

  ‘A lot of anger there,’ said Nik.

  ‘Not long after, Hyllos and his brothers decided they wanted to reclaim the Peloponnese, following their paternal grandfather’s footsteps, Perseus, who founded Mykenai, and invaded the region. Hyllos also wanted to retrieve the stone from Helen, realising he made a mistake in giving it to her. It didn’t go well, and the Mykenaians killed Hyllos. Decades later, the third Heraklide generation attacked and conquered southern Greece. As for the stone, Herakles’ descendants searched and questioned every person in Sparta, but no-one had heard of or seen it. One of Helen’s ancestors had given the nugget to the bodyguard, told him to leave Sparta and return “when two kings, one of them a lion”, was born.’

  ‘What an odd thing to say.’

  ‘Not at all,’ said Papou, with a firm shake of his head. ‘You must remember people in that period consulted the oracle at Delphi in times of crises, and to seek answers. Helen’s descendant did the same and followed the advice given.’

  ‘Where did he go?’

  ‘To the island of Aegina.’

  ‘Home of the first mint,’ said Nik in a rush, the pieces of the puzzle fitting together.

  ‘Yes.’ Papou nodded. ‘He settled there and had a family, and each new generation was given specific instructions. The stone was later smelted and turned into a coin. There was enough material to make two. The mould and refuse were later collected and destroyed by the guardian.’

  ‘How?’

  ‘That secret died with the one who commissioned the coin.’

  ‘Where’s the second coin?’

  ‘That is a mystery, and I have spent decades trying to learn what happened to it. The coins remained together for three hundred years, until one disappeared with this lion king. Or at least that’s the assumption. However, there is no evidence of the second coin. It is like it never existed. But it did, for knowledge of it is a part of our historical records.’

  ‘What do you think happened to it?’ asked Nik.

  ‘Someone who knew of the coins took it from the king when he was slain in battle.’

  ‘If the guardians kept the coins hush-hush, how could anyone else know of them? Did the king blurt it out during a drunken evening, or an ancestor blabbed?’

  ‘The king entrusted with the coins did not drink, Spartan law forbade its citizens from drinking alcohol. As to an ancestor being the culprit, that is not a possibility.’

  ‘How can you be sure an ancestor didn’t blab or brag about the coin?’ asked Nik. ‘Even the most level-headed person, if enticed, may give up any secret, just as you said earlier, when Hyllos gave up the stone for a kiss from Helen.’

  ‘It’s more probable someone overheard the king and his bodyguard discussing the coins and the impending combat.’ Papou got up and walked over to the weapons cabinet. He touched the wall to the left of it, or so Nik thought, and a small panel hissed open. His grandfather typed in a code and a door swung ajar. Nik joined him. ‘This cuirass, helmet, greaves, shield and sword belonged to King Leonidas. He instructed his bodyguard to strip his body should he die.’

  Nik stared at the golden body armour and black-plumed helmet. Apart from many dents, both shone like new. The bronze casing of the hoplite shield gleamed under the fluorescent light, emphasising the pockmarks and cuts etched into the surface. The iron blade of the sword told a story of many battles, with nicks bitten into the edge, and the hilt darkened from sweat and blood. The hair at Nik’s nape stood on end when he looked at the next weapon.

  ‘That would inflict nasty wounds.’

  ‘It did. This was the Spartans’ preferred weapon of choice.’ Papou reached across and grabbed the short thick sword with its curved blade. ‘It’s called a Kopis, and it’s used for hacking, much like an axe. See this?’ Papou held the sword at the neck of the blade with one hand and rested the length on the palm of his other. ‘An ingenious design, contoured to the grip of the hand, and the curved tail made it less likely for the warrior to drop it during a fight.’ He held it out to Nik. ‘Here, take it.’

  Nik grabbed the handle and when his grandfather let go, the blade swung downwards. He had to use both hands to lift it.

  He bit his bottom lip. ‘This is heavier than it looks. How did they ever swing it, let alone use it in battle?’ The muscles in his upper arms tightened as he struggled to hold the sword upright.

  ‘Years of training,’ said Papou, retrieving the sword. He placed it back into its niche, pressed a button on the panel and the cabinet swung close.

  ‘This room is like a museum, the way you’ve organised it, and with the air-locked environment,’ Nik commented as they returned to the chairs.

  ‘One of the major roles of a guardian is to preserve the artefacts, and ensure we do not damage them,’ stated Papou. ‘It is important to maintain them, and learn their history so you can teach the next successor.’

  ‘It must have taken decades to learn everything here,’ Nik said, staggered. ‘Just these books alone would take a lifetime to read.’

  ‘I hope you have a lifetime,’ said Papou. ‘The paramount matter is to prioritise.’ He pointed to the computers. ‘I’ve set up the computers to search for particular terms relating to the goddess’s coin, including for the words tortoise, Aphrodite, travelling, Herodotos, Herakles, anything related to the history of the coin, including Hitler and his followers, plus certain locations. Anything that turns up will need revising depending on the pingbacks and where they are. Before computers it was harder to track any queries about the coin, and required a lot of time reading international newspapers, listening to the radio stations of other nations, connecting with experts and sometimes piggybacking on law enforcement networks and government agencies. These days it is easier to search, but the volume is so much greater. You must verify and validate the information with the resources here and online, and when you cannot source the material you need, ask the experts.’

  ‘Really? Is that safe? Won’t the people I contact ask questions?’ asked Nik.

  ‘I have found people are happy to share information if you are querying academic theories, or asking for advice.’ Papou tapped his nose. ‘You show an interest in their work and they will talk and show their life's research.’

  ‘I’ll keep that in mind.’ Nik stretched out his legs. ‘But back to King Leonidas. I read few Spartans survived the battle of Thermopylae. From what I understand, any Spartan warriors who returned home are those who didn’t fight well or were injured, and were treated like lepers and vilified.’

  ‘That’s true.’ Papou attested. ‘However, King Leonidas told his bodyguard not to return to Sparta.’

  ‘Is that when our ancestors became the guardians of the coin?’

  Papou shook his head. ‘The king wanted the coin to go to the descendant of Odysseus.’

  ‘Ithaka! We have family there?’

  ‘Yes. The bodyguard settled on the island, married a local girl and had an extensive family. His descendants are now scattered across mainland Greece. And then there’s us, here in Australia. That’s enough for today, I don’t want to overwhelm you with too much in one day.’

  ‘I’m fine. I want to hear more.’

  ‘I’m glad you do but let’s leave it until next weekend.’

  ‘What? That’s way too long to wait.’

  ‘We’ll train during the week, and on the weekend we’ll resume the history lesson,’ said Papou. ‘Besides, don’t you have work to do?’

  Nik scrunched up his nose. ‘I should prep lessons for the week and mark the Year 12 papers. They’ll want to know their results.’ He stood, picked up the empty coffee cups, and took them to the sink to wash.

  Chapter Seven

  Each morning at five o’clock, Nik picked up his grandfather and drove to Perry Lakes for laps and sprints. Afterwards he drove back to shower and eat breakfast at his grandfather’s, then on to school for a full day of teaching. He worked out at the gym for an hour of weight training after school, then went home for dinn
er, marking, and watched a bit of television to relax before bed.

  On the eighth Saturday morning, Nik groaned when his alarm chimed. He threw off the bedcovers and stumbled his way to the wardrobe, pulling out clean running shorts and a singlet. He shuffled into the bathroom, washed his face with chilly water and rinsed out his mouth. Yawning, he returned to the bedroom, grabbed a pair of socks and picked up his exercise bag filled with clean clothes he had packed the previous night. On his way out he stopped by the kitchen, filled up a water bottle and a glass, which he downed in a few gulps.

  The street lights were still on as he drove the familiar route to his grandfather’s. Papou was waiting on the footpath, as he had done for the past two months. Nik pulled up alongside and slipped the gearshift into neutral. His grandfather opened the door but didn’t get in.

  ‘Park in the driveway, Niko, we’re doing something different this morning.’ He shut the door and walked back to the porch and waited for Nik.

  ‘Why aren’t we going to the track?’ Nik asked as he joined his grandfather.

  ‘I will introduce you to weapons and defence training,’ said Papou, pulling the fly-screen door open.

  ‘I’ve nothing against learning how to defend myself, but why weapons? I don’t see the relevance,’ Nik said as he followed his grandfather into the bathroom. ‘It’s a coin, not a person.’

  ‘I asked my father the same question, and I will give you the answer he gave me: “Being prepared, no matter the circumstance or the purpose, gives you the skills to rationalise with clarity.” My father believed there was a potential threat, and we were not the only ones aware of the coin’s existence. He did not know when others would learn or hear about the coin, but he was convinced it would happen. Having the coin in my care all this time, I agree with my father’s assessment.’

  ‘In the time of your guardianship, did you encounter any problems or witness signs other people were seeking the coin?’ Nik queried. His grandfather walked down the steps and paused at the steel door. He looked up at Nik.

  ‘The question you should ask is, “Who wants the coin and what is their intent?”’

  ‘Do you believe people are looking for it?’

  ‘I spent my life dedicated to protecting the coin, as those before me have done. For thousands of years our family sacrificed their lives and service to ensure the coin remains a secret. What do you think?’ Papou’s eyes darkened.

  Nik lowered his head and shuffled his feet. ‘It seems too far-fetched to be true; somewhat like those adventure books or Indiana Jones movies.’

  ‘Where do you suppose the stories came from?’ said Papou with a snort. ‘Actual events inspired the authors and bards, how else could Homer concoct such a tale?’

  ‘I guess the notion of a rare coin possessing inexplicable qualities is difficult to accept. Besides, this stuff doesn’t happen to ordinary people. I’m a teacher, nothing more.’

  ‘I was a teacher,’ Papou pointed out. He placed his hand on the console by the door and entered the subterranean room. ‘And ordinary we are not.’ The door swung shut as Nik crossed the threshold. ‘You will learn our family is anything but average.’

  Nik dropped his bag by the old armchairs and joined his grandfather, who waited by the steel-framed cabinet. Behind the reinforced glass was an array of weapons, modern replicas and older weapons dating back three thousand years: spears, slings, daggers, swords of various lengths and shapes, a hoplite shield, bow and arrows, crossbow, battle-axe, pistols, rifles and a machine gun.

  ‘Do you have a licence for these?’ Nik asked.

  ‘For the guns, yes. Well, except the machine gun.’

  ‘Quite the arsenal, Papou.’ Nik tapped the glass door. ‘A bit difficult to practice throwing a spear or a sling in here, let alone shoot a bow and arrow.’

  ‘We’ll use the stadium for training with the projectiles but today I want you to get familiar with the weapons.’ His grandfather unlocked a door and pulled out the spears. ‘Each is of a different length and weight. The Greeks used the longer spear in the phalanx formation, while the javelin, shorter and lighter, was used by the Roman foot-soldier.’ Papou handed one to Nik.

  ‘Very light,’ he said, holding it in the middle. ‘What’s it made from?’

  ‘Graphite. So is this one.’ Papou took the javelin and passed him the other one.

  ‘This is heavier, given the extra length.’ Nik ran his hand along the smooth grain of the spear. ‘It must have been difficult to control during combat.’

  ‘It’s the perfect phalanx weapon. Can you imagine how intimidating it must have been to watch armed soldiers lowering their sarissas as they charged? Not intended for throwing, rather cumbersome, but excellent for jabbing and thrusting,’ Papou said.

  He set the lance back in its place and then the longer spear before moving to the next weapon. Each one he handed to Nik and explained their history and how to use them. Nik grimaced as he held the pistol. The cold black metal sat heavy in his hand. His stomach lurched and a bitter taste filled his mouth.

  ‘What is it?’ his grandfather asked.

  ‘I don’t like guns.’

  ‘The problem is not the gun, it’s the person who uses it. Respect its power and what it does.’

  ‘Why the machine gun?’

  ‘When the guardian discovered Hitler was searching for the coin, he deemed it necessary to strengthen the firearms collection.’

  ‘This doesn’t look like it’s from the 1940s.’

  ‘No, that gun's locked in the cabinet. It’s important to upgrade the weapons with newer models.’

  ‘How big is the threat?’

  Papou drew in a deep breath and exhaled through his nostrils. ‘We’re not the only ones who own a coin. Remember, a second one was struck and it went missing. Odds are whoever took that coin has kept it within their family. To possess one coin and use it for personal gain or ill purpose is detrimental. To own both, catastrophic.’

  The ominous tone and expression on his grandfather’s face made Nik doubt his decision. Almost

  ‘Tomorrow we start with the javelin and bow and arrow. The sarissa is too long for the car; besides, we don’t want to draw the attention of the neighbours,’ said Papou with a smile. ‘Today we start boxing, Greek style,’ he added, eyes sparkling.

  ‘I don’t like the sound of that.’

  Papou laughed. ‘Your opponents will scream for mercy.’

  Nik grimaced.

  ‘Hold out your hands, keep your fingers and thumb stretched out.’ Papou then proceeded to strap his hands.

  Nik watched as Papou donned boxing mitts and instructed Nik on the basics of boxing: the stance, holding up the hands to protect the face, punching, footwork, how to inhale and exhale, and greatest impact with minimum force. He showed Nik how to jab, cross, hook, and use an uppercut. Papou put Nik through a variety of routines before telling Nik to stop two hours later.

  ‘Go shower and I’ll get breakfast,’ he said, as he pulled off the mitts.

  Nik nodded, his singlet clinging to him like a second skin, his face red and shining with sweat, his hair dripping. His chest rose and fell in rapid succession. He removed the strapping, plucked a towel from his bag and wiped his face and head. Nik grabbed his water bottle and drank the entire contents.

  ‘Did anyone tell you what a taskmaster you are?’ He rubbed his nose with the back of his and wiped his face again.

  ‘Not in so many words,’ Papou replied, with a slight smile.

  ‘I think you missed your calling, Papou.’ Nik gave him a lopsided grin.

  ‘Go shower.’ Papou wiped the gloves with disinfectant. ‘Use the shower in the laundry.’

  Nik picked up his bag and left his grandfather to finish cleaning the boxing equipment. His grandfather had installed the shower in the laundry after Yiayiá complained at the constant dirt and mud tracked into the house when his grandfather worked in the garden.

  ‘What happened once the guardian arrived on Ithaka?’ asked
Nik. ‘Did he get in touch with Odysseus’s descendant?’ They had returned to the secret room, the breakfast plates and coffees on the low table before them.

  ‘He had to wait until the king was seeing petitioners, and when it was his turn, he explained who sent him,’ answered Papou. ‘To prove the veracity of his story, he handed over King Leonidas’s ring and the note written by the Spartan. The king of Ithaka was more interested in the ring than the coin, but wanted further proof that Leonidas had written the note. The bodyguard showed him the crest of the Heraklid family, a signature used by Leonidas and replicated on the ring. Still not convinced, the king wanted to hear what happened at the pass of Thermopylae. At the end of his story, the king ordered everyone to leave the megaron except for Leonidas’s bodyguard. They never disclosed what they discussed, but the king took on the bodyguard as his own. For a decade, harmony reigned at the palace, until one day the king died in suspicious circumstances and the coin disappeared.’

  ‘What of the bodyguard? Where was he?’

  ‘His wife was in labour with their third child and the king had dismissed him to be home for the baby’s birth. When the bodyguard learned of the king’s death, he commanded the royal guards to secure the palace. He searched the royal chambers, and the areas frequented by the king. He had the king’s most loyal guards question the servants and members of the family. The coin was missing and so too the murderer. For weeks and months, the bodyguard searched for the coin, questioned people in town and on the farms.’

  ‘The king had told someone else about the coin,’ said Nik. ‘They killed the king and stole the coin.’

  ‘That’s what the bodyguard concluded. Many petitioners visited the king daily, and it was difficult to uncover who the culprit was. It was fortunate the king had a scribe who kept a record of supplicants and where they came from. With this list in hand, the bodyguard set off to search, leaving his family.’