Soldier of Arete Read online

  After that, Hegesistratus and Hippephode spoke together for a long time, and only a moment ago it was decided that we shall let one leave but keep the other. If the king of Thrace honors his agreement today, we will return the lord to him. But if he does not, we will kill him.

  While I was reading about the sacrifice and oath yesterday, the children came to speak to me. The girl is Io Thabaikos; the boy, Polos. The girl is my slave, she says, though she kissed my cheek like a daughter and I held her on my lap. She is the "Io" who helped water the horses yesterday, as I just read. I asked if Polos was my slave, too.

  She laughed. "No! He's mine—I'm teaching him to talk."

  The boy grinned.

  "Isn't he the son of one of these women?"

  Io shook her head. "They don't keep them. If they have a boy, they take him to his father. Usually the fathers are Sons of Scoloti. You don't remember the Sons of Scoloti, master, but there were some on Hyper-eides's ship. They have long beards, and one had blue eyes. They're very good bowmen."

  I said, "I don't care about the Sons of Scoloti right now, Io. Tell me about Polos."

  "Well, he knows more about horses than anybody else in the world. If Polos had been back there with the horses, those two wouldn't have fallen over the ledge."

  The boy seemed to understand her; he nodded solemnly.

  "He can't be Hegesistratus's son even if that young woman's Hegesistratus's second wife," I said. "Hegesistratus speaks the way we do. Who does he belong to?"

  "Me," Io said. "I told you, master."

  I shook a finger at her and made her leave my lap. "Don't answer me with jokes. Where are his father and mother?"

  Io shrugged. "Northwest of here someplace—that's the way he points. I don't think he lives with them anymore."

  The boy shook his head. "Enkilin."

  "They live in the hills," Io translated. "Show him what you found, Polos."

  Shyly, the boy groped in the ragged sheepskin he wore and produced a small leather sack. When I held out my hand for it, he loosened the thong and poured a tinkling flood of little gold coins into my palm.

  I whistled. "This is a considerable sum of money, Polos. Where did you get it?"

  He looked at Io as though seeking permission to answer, or perhaps only to speak as Hellenes do. "From a dead man."

  Io said, "One of those you killed, master. He thinks that because you killed him, you should have the money."

  I considered that for a moment. "Perhaps we could share it? Half for you, Polos, and half for me?"

  The boy nodded enthusiastically.

  "But Io must keep my half for me—otherwise I'll forget it, as she knows very well. And neither of you should show how much you have in any civilized place, or you'll get your throats slit for it. Understand?"

  We counted the coins into two piles. There were eighteen, each about the size of the end of my smallest finger. Io ran to fetch a rag, into which she knotted my nine. Polos returned his to the sack and gave that to her as well.

  I asked, "How many peltasts would you say attacked us this morning, Io?"

  "A lot. They had a lot more than we did."

  I nodded. "But how many is a lot?"

  "Twenty or thirty, maybe."

  "Could there have been eighteen? We might guess better if we knew the number of their dead—did you and Polos count them?"

  Io said, "I suppose there could have been. I counted the ones you killed. Seven."

  We went to look at them; there were eleven dead altogether. The man who had carried the coins wore a helmet, and had worn a ring until someone took it. He saw me, even as I saw him, but there was no hatred in his stare. "Io," I said, "Hegesistratus thinks Polos may be a Thracian spy. What do you think? Can he be trusted?"

  Before she could answer, Polos lifted both hands, shook his head violently, and dashed toward the back of the cave. Io told me, "He doesn't want to hear any secrets. I suppose it's because you might think he told if somebody found out."

  "If he doesn't want to hear secrets, we can take it he's no spy. But who can we trust? Trust absolutely?"

  "The black man."

  "All right. What about Hegesistratus and his wife? The queen?"

  Io shook her head.

  "Why not?"

  "Well, the queen has her own people to look after. And she has to do what her god told her—bring the Shining God's sacred horses to his big temple in the south, and all the rest of it. She'd have to put those things ahead of us."

  "Very good. And Hegesistratus?"

  Io looked uncomfortable. "To start with, he cares a whole lot more about Elata than I've ever seen any man care about any woman. When you read about her in your book, you wouldn't tell me what it said. Do you remember it now, master?"

  "No, but I'll read it again when I have the chance. That was to start with. What's the rest?"

  "He worked magic for the barbarians—I mean the People from Parsa, not these barbarians here—and you fought for their Great King, master, and so did my city."

  "And the black man?" I asked.

  Io nodded.

  "Then we were all on the same side; that's not a very good reason to distrust someone, Io."

  "But now he's working for Hypereides, and so are we. And Hyper-eides fought against the Great King. That's an awful lot of changing around."

  "Perhaps," I said.

  "Besides Hegesistratus hates the Rope Makers as much as he loves Elata. I don't like them myself, but they're the friends of Hypereides's city."

  "All right," I told her, "that's quite enough. Go and get the black man."

  "Can I say something first, master? I promised Polos that I would."

  "Certainly," I said, "if it's important. What is it?"

  "Well, master, Hegesistratus and Queen Hippephode have been deciding what we're going to do, just about always. But you're the one who really ought to. That's what Polos says and I think so, too. The Amazons are all good fighters—I didn't know women could fight like that till I saw them. The black man's really wonderful, and Hegesistratus is like a wounded lion. But it's not any of them that the Thracians are afraid of. It's you. I was in back of you this morning with my sword, and I could see their faces. Polos says they call you 'the hero,' and it means Pleistorus is inside you even if you don't know it."

  When she fell silent, I asked, "Is that all?"

  "You see the gods sometimes, master. You really do. Once you saw the King of Nysa and touched him, and then I could see him, too. He was old and he looked like the black man—but..."

  "Go on."

  "One time before the Shining God gave me to you, I went to the theater back in Hill. It costs a lot, but sometimes a rich man will buy seats for poor people, and that time my old master did and let us in first. The actors wore masks, but the people in the play didn't know."

  "You aren't making a lot of sense, Io," I said. "I think perhaps you'd better bring the black man now."

  Suddenly defiant, she stood up very straight, her eyes on mine. "You can beat me if you want to—-only I know you won't. How long do you think we could stay in this cave if you weren't in here with us? I know Apsinthia's just a little hole-in-the-corner barbarian kingdom, but the king's still got hundreds and hundreds of soldiers, and maybe thousands."

  Then she was gone, before I could order her to go. I have written this while I wait for her to return with the black man.

  NINETEEN

  My Duel with the King

  OEOBAZUS THE MEDE, THE BATTLE at the temple, the strategist from Rope and Cleton's other news—I must set down all of these, for we will soon sleep and I will forget them.

  When I cast back my thoughts to morning, I see the women's heads on the lances, their long, dark hair dripping in the rain. Lordly horsemen in gilt ring mail flanked us, and the first pair bore the heads on their lances. Yet though we were few, and our equipment not so fine, I soon saw they feared us.

  Hippephode rode in front on the Destroyer's white stallion—that was how we started
, I think. Hegesistratus came after her, and Elata close behind him. Then the black man and I, and the children, with Polos on a white colt; then the white horses without riders, and last, the rest of the Amazons, driving the horses ahead of them.

  But the women's heads made me angry; and so when I saw that the Thracians were afraid, I rode past Queen Hippephode and the rest until I was between the Thracian lords who held the lances, and asked in the tongue of the Hellenes where they had found the heads and whose they were. The lords would have had me believe that they could not understand my words, but I saw clearly that they did, for they flushed with anger.

  "We thought you warriors," I told them, "but warriors would never boast of killing women—warriors kill men, and bring their women home to warm their own beds. Do you trim your lances with infants' heads, also? Or do you believe it more manly to impale the whole infant upon the lance head?"

  They said nothing and looked to right and left, unwilling to meet my gaze. "When a boy hunts," I told them, "he kills a bear cub and says he has killed a bear, never thinking that the day will come when he will meet a bear. Then he will have need of his little spear."

  Hegesistratus called to me to be silent.

  "I will be silent," I said, "if they will give us the heads of these women so that we may burn them honorably."

  At that one of the Thracian lords spoke with Hegesistratus in their own tongue, and Hegesistratus told me they had agreed to give us the heads when we reached the temple of the War God and permit us to burn them on the sacred hearth. Thereafter I kept silent, but I urged my horse forward so that I rode before the Thracian lords who held those lances.

  At the temple, it seemed at first that the Thracians' word was good. The king waited for us there, dressed in golden mail and a rich cloak; behind him rode an old man with a white beard, also richly dressed, and many glittering lords of Thrace. All of them sat excellent horses. When the king saw me, he looked angry, and when he saw the boy riding one of the sacred horses, he looked angrier still; but the Thracian lords spoke with him, and both he and the old man nodded. Then the women's heads were taken from the lances, and though the Thracians held them by the hair, the Amazons who received them cradled them in their arms. There was already a fire in the sacred hearth. Queen Hippephode spoke to the Amazons as Amazons speak, lifted her arms in prayer to the War God, and conversed for a brief time with him. After that the heads were set upright in the fire, and fragrant wood heaped upon them.

  When they were consumed, the king addressed the Thracian lords who had come into the temple with him. In a low voice, Hegesistratus repeated what he said to the Amazons; and Polos did the same for the black man, Elata, Io, and me, though he speaks the tongue of Hellenes worse even than I.

  "Listen to me! You know what we promised. Who has ever called our vows worthless?"

  The king had a fine, deep voice and piercing eyes. It was strange to listen to Polos's halting speech instead.

  "We have sworn that they shall go in peace. No one shall so much as offer them insult—though our charge would scatter them like chaff. There shall be no war!"

  Then all the Thracian lords repeated his words.

  "The gold they give us for the Sun's sacred horses shall go to the temple of the Sun. Thamyris shall receive it." Here he glanced at the old man. "And they shall go in peace!"

  Again all the Thracian lords echoed his words. After that, the old man and some of the lords went behind the curtain at the back of the temple and led out Oeobazus the Mede. Hegesistratus and the black man sighed, and Io said, "Well, finally!" He is tall and strong, with a scar that rises out of his black beard; his face is darker than Hegesistratus's, but not so dark as the black man's.

  Then the king spoke again, but Polos did not translate his words for us because he had run to look at Oeobazus's sword and bow, which had been brought forth. Nor did Hegesistratus repeat to the Amazons anything that the king had said, because he and Oeobazus were embracing. When he spoke to Oeobazus, it was, I suppose, as the Medes speak; but I understood a few words, and from those and his manner knew he was telling Oeobazus that he would present us when there was time for it.

  Oeobazus took up the weapons that had been returned to him, and we deserted the temple's fire for the chill drizzle outside. There Queen Hippephode pointed out the sacred horses she wished to take, choosing the stallion she had ridden and three others, all of them fine animals; an Amazon slipped a bridle onto each. Hippephode counted gold into the old man's hands—a great deal of it, or so it appeared to me. The king questioned several of the pieces, biting them to test the goodness of the metal; when the last was passed, a peltast brought the old man scales with which he weighed the gold. I could not understand what he said, but it seemed clear that he had announced himself satisfied.

  Here was the crisis, and all of us must have known it. The black man sprang onto his horse. Hegesistratus was no more than a moment behind him, vaulting into the saddle with his crutch as I think he always must. But in the tongue of the Hellenes, and almost as a Hellene might have said it, the king told us, "Wait! We have promised you shall go in peace. However, if one of you should choose battle instead, in that there can be no violation of our pledge."

  I knew then that many of the lords of Thrace understood the tongue of Hellenes, for they stirred at his words and some laid their hands upon their swords.

  Hegesistratus said loudly, "We do not choose to fight. Let us leave in peace as you swore."

  The old man spoke to the king as Thracians speak, his voice low and urgent. It seemed to me that he, too, called for peace; but the king shook his head angrily.

  "This does not concern you," he said to Hegesistratus, "nor any of your party save one." Although he spoke to Hegesistratus, he looked at me. "The rest of you may begin your journey, if you like. He, too, may go in peace, if he wishes. We have said it. But if he desires instead to meet us with arms—as one hero meets another—he need only tell us."

  Hegesistratus called sharply, "He does not desire it. Mount, Latro!"

  "Yes," the king told me. "Mount! You will need a lance. Someone bring him one—a good one."

  Though I do not believe that the king had confided his plan to his counselor, one of the Thracian lords at least must have known what he intended to do; without an instant's delay, he was at my side holding a new lance.

  I would not take it. "You have called yourself a hero," I told the king, "and I know that what you said is nothing more than the truth. Only a fool fights a hero, unless he must." I went to my horse to mount; but one of the Thracians pricked its flank with his dagger, so that it cried out and danced away from me, its eyes rolling with pain and fear. The Thracian who held the lance thrust it in my face.

  Hippephode confronted the king then, a woman taller even than he; anger flamed in her cheeks and blue ice flashed from her eyes. I do not know what she said, but she pointed toward the lowering sky, then to the temple, and at last to sky again, and her voice was like the snarl of a panther. The black man urged his horse forward as though to join her, but many hands tore him from the saddle and threw him to the ground. The king turned away from the Amazon queen again and again; always his eyes were upon me.

  I said, "What sort of fool are you, who tell your people that we are to go in peace, and break your word with the next breath? Don't you know that it is thus that kings lose their thrones?"

  "Take it if you can!" he shouted, and spat in my face. At that moment, the lance was thrust at me again, and I did as he said.

  At once everyone fell silent. Those who had held the black man released him; he stood, wiping mud from his clothing and his person, his wounded face a mask of rage.

  Hegesistratus rode to where we stood, and no one stopped him. The king said, "If you would speak to us before we fight, dismount!"

  Hegesistratus nodded. "Out of the respect I have for Your Majesty." He slid from his horse, keeping hold of his saddle until he could brace himself with his crutch. "King Kotys," he said, "you have
sworn before your gods and ours that you would let us go in peace. Do so now, before battle drinks the blood of a king. It may be they will forgive you."

  "If that is all you have to say," the king told him, "be silent or we will stuff your mouth with dung."

  Hegesistratus turned to me, his voice so soft that I could scarcely hear him. "Do you know how to use a lance, Latro?"

  I said, "I don't know, but I doubt that there's a great deal to learn." The Thracian lords grinned at that, pulling their beards and elbowing one another.

  "He has a helmet. You had one yesterday, but you seem to have left it behind. Do you want one now?"

  I shook my head.

  The king said, "You have your lance. Mount!"

  I asked him whether we would fight on the hillside.

  "No." He pointed. "Ride to that thicket, turn, and meet my charge."

  Hippephode had been speaking swiftly to Hegesistratus; now he said, "The queen asks a favor of you: she wishes you to take her horse. Your own is badly unsettled and is, as she says, too small."

  I thanked Hippephode and mounted her white stallion, still the holy steed of the Sun. A disordered mob, we streamed to the base of the hill; there some of the Thracian lords made the rest stay back, with Hegesistratus, the Amazons, the black man, and the others. The king reined up perhaps ten cubits before them. "No quarter will be given," he told me. "Do you understand?"

  I said that I did not think I could kill a man who begged me for his life, but I would try. Then I rode down the misty valley to the trees he had pointed out. They were half a stade from the bottom of the hill, perhaps.

  A lion roared as I wheeled the stallion. At the sound of his challenge, other lions roared to my left and right, hardly a bowshot from us.

  The stallion reared, pawing air. Afraid the king's charge would find us unprepared, I shouted into the stallion's ear, digging heels into his sides and flourishing the lance overhead to make it clear we had to fight whether lions roared or not—though their terrifying voices rose behind us like the tumult of an army.