Soldier of Arete Page 8

  He shrugged. "Like all who are in great danger, you must be bold, yet not overbold. It is those who are daring but not rash who live through dangers. If possible, you should go to Dolphins. The greatest of all the Destroyer's oracles is there, and if you consult it and make the right sacrifices, he may have something very useful to tell you. Will you write that in your book? And read it, too?"

  I assured him I would.

  "Beware of women, and of the learned, whether women or men. They will advise you in their own interests, not yours, if you allow it. But that is a warning such as I might give every man."

  I nodded, for I understand very well what he meant, though he is a learned man himself.

  "Be careful not to offend those who favor you, and do what you can to gain the goodwill of those who do not. Hunting may please the Huntress, for example, and study the Lady of Thought, or favoring her city. Or sacrifices of the proper kind—though nothing is sure."

  Io asked, "Now will you do me?"

  "No," Hegesistratus told her. "Or not this evening, at least."

  Just then the peasant who had brought us firewood returned leading a young he-goat and carrying a jar of wine. The mantis poured out a few drops of the new wine to the Destroyer; and the black man (who was very clever about it) dispatched the goat, skinned it, and cut it up for us more quickly than I would have believed it could be done. With his fingers he told us that he wished to keep the skin to make a drum; everyone agreed that he should have it.

  Pharetra sat up to eat and drink with us; surely that is a good sign. When I asked when she had been hurt, Io said it was last night when we fought these Thracians. Io and Elata take good care of her, and the Amazons seem happy to let them.

  After we had eaten, the Amazons sang; only Hegesistratus understood their words, I think, but they have wonderful voices—so fine that our guards drew nearer to hear. (They wear foxskin caps; their cloaks are divided and cover their heels.) At last everyone except Elata and I lay down to sleep. The fire is nearly dead, and though it is so cold, I will not add more wood; that would only frighten Elata and make it easier for our guards to see me.

  When I wrote of the Amazons, I should have said that they lack bronze bits for their horses. Theirs are of rawhide, and though I cannot remember, it surprised me very much; thus I do not believe I have seen such bits before. Their reins, too, are rawhide, their saddle pads of sheepskin, not greatly different from ours.

  Hegesistratus is lame and has a curly beard, very black; Elata is smaller than the Amazons and very beautiful, and Io is still a child. It is written here that we are to find Oeobazus. Hypereides the Trierarch sent us. I asked Hegesistratus and Io before they slept, and both confirm it. This land is Apsinthia, in Thrace.

  I have tried to write until Elata slept as well, but I am tired and this fire is almost out. Perhaps she will not sleep tonight at all. Another rider has joined our guards, a larger man than the rest. That is bad, the dog very bad, perhaps. I am going to lie down, but stay awake till Elata sleeps and the fire is out.

  ELEVEN

  Ares and Others

  KING KOTYS, OEOBAZUS, AND CLETON—I must remember them all, or at least remember them when I read this, and remember to read it frequently.

  I had not meant to sleep, but sleep overpowered me. When I woke, the moon was low, and only the glow of embers showed where our fire had been. Elata was gone; Io, Hegesistratus, the black man, and the Amazons sleeping. I could not see our guards, but I heard their horses snort.

  Though I can no longer recall yesterday morning, I know we were not prisoners of the Thracians then. I remember how I saw them riding across the plain. Perhaps we should have fled, but they would surely have pursued us, and it seemed better to fight on unwinded horses if we had to fight, and to make peace if we could; thus we are here.

  There is little cover near our camp, so I waited until the moon was down, then crept over the new rye toward the Thracian city, keeping low in the furrows. They surely expect us to try to flee it, thus that seemed the best way. Once a rider passed close, but he did not see me. I took my sword, but left my two javelins behind. All this time I wondered about Elata, thinking that perhaps the guards had lured her away from our camp, raped, and killed her.

  There are few stone buildings in the city, and its wall is toward the sea. The houses closest to us were humble, built of wood and wattle and roofed with straw. In several streets, not one showed a light.

  Thinking that such poor people would not be likely to sound the alarm unless their own lives and property were threatened, I called softly at a door; and when no one came, I thumped it with the pommel of my sword. At last an angry man answered. I could not understand him, but using the speech of the Hellenes, I told him that I was a Hellene and a traveler; and I asked him to take me to the house of someone of my own nation, where I could find lodging.

  I do not believe he understood anything I said, but perhaps he recognized the tongue I spoke. In any event, he unbarred the door. He had a club, but let it fall when he saw Falcata. He led me almost to the docks, where there was a house—Cleton's—larger than most; then he pointed to the door and ran away.

  A woman opened when I called. I do not know her name, but she is a servant of Cleton's, I think, a Thracian. She did not want to let me in. She was frightened, but once she understood that I could not speak Thracian, she woke her master.

  Cleton is short and fat and gray of beard, but not lacking in courage, I think, for when he came, it was with an angry face and a heavy staff; nor did he lay it down when he saw my sword. His hours of business, he told me, were from the opening of the market until nightfall. If I wished to speak with him, I could do it at his warehouse, and now I must go.

  "I cannot see you then, noble Cleton," I replied (for his servant had mentioned his name), "because I am guarded. Do you think I always go about in a dirty chiton, with muddy knees? I had to creep like a lizard to visit you here."

  He stared at me, then ordered the woman to go back to bed. "You don't have to worry about her," he assured me. "She only knows three words: come, go, and spread your legs. You're no Ionian, though you talk like somebody from Thought. Where are you really from?"

  "I can't remember," I said.

  He laughed. "Well, there's many another lad that's had his troubles. You don't have to give me your name, son. What is it you want from me?"

  "Nothing but information," I told him. "Where is Oeobazos the Mede?"

  "That's common knowledge," he said thoughtfully.

  "Not to me. I don't speak Thracian."

  Cleton shrugged. "It's a barbarous language. I used to think I didn't know it very well myself, because I had so much trouble with shades of meaning. Later I realized they couldn't do much that way either—it's a language for yelling at people. Would you like some wine?"

  I nodded, for it seemed clear that Cleton's friendship was worth having. He leaned his staff in a corner and led me to a larger room where there were benches and a table.

  "We eat inside a lot here," he said. "The weather's awful. So's the wine, but because of the war it's all I've got. Do you know if the Great King's coming back?"

  I said, "I have no idea."

  "I hope so—the army bought everything I had, last time. Paid well, too. Have a seat, won't you? If you'll excuse me for leaving you, I'll fetch the wine."

  It occurred to me, of course, that he had gone to get help; but there was nothing I could do about it except listen, which I did. He was soon back with wine, water, a mixing bowl, and two cups.

  I said, "If Oeobazos's whereabouts are known to everyone, there's no reason you shouldn't tell me."

  "Yes, there is," he explained as he handed me my cup. "So far I've had nothing in return. What have you of value to tell me?"

  I thanked him and asked what might be of value to him.

  He shrugged again. "You could start by telling me where they're keeping you, and what you've done."

  "Nothing that I know of," I said. "We're being
held in a field, inland, not too far from the city."

  "There's more than one of you, then. There must be—they wouldn't hold one man in a field. How many are there?"

  "Thirteen."

  "That's an unlucky number, don't you know that? There are twelve Olympians, and they never permit a thirteenth. When the wine god came, the hearth goddess resigned to make room for him. It's not pleasing to him to make a face at your host's wine, by the way. It may be bad, but it's the best I've got."

  I said, "It isn't the wine—what we drank tonight was far worse. It's that I read tonight that I see the gods, and yet I know nothing about them."

  "Neither does anyone else, son—don't let them fool you. Who are the other twelve they're guarding, and what brings you to Cobrys?"

  I explained that we were not a single group, but two that had been traveling together. "My companions and I were sent by a captain from Thought," I told him. "His name is Hypereides. Besides myself, there are Hypereides's mantis and his wife—"

  "Wait a moment." Cleton held up his hand. "Did you say Hypereides? What does he look like?"

  I did not know, but I sensed that if I confessed it, I would learn nothing more. I said, "A thousand people must have seen Hypereides— he's a very well-known man. What would it prove if I were to describe him?"

  Cleton said, "You prove to me that Hypereides sent you, and I'll tell you where the Mede is. What does Hypereides want with him?"

  "He's been ordered to find this Oeobazus and bring him to Thought," I told him. "I can't tell you more than that. As for proving that Hypereides sent me, his ship's to meet us at the mouth of the Hebrus. You might send someone there and ask him. I'm called Latro, and his mantis is Hegesistratus."

  Cleton's eyes flew wide. "Hegesistratus of Elis? The man with the wooden foot?" I was too stunned to reply, but he took my silence for assent. "You're traveling in fast company, son. Very fast indeed. Do you know who Hegesistratus of Elis is?"

  I said, "He's Hypereides's mantis, as I told you."

  "And that's all you know. Yes, of course. Well, when the Great King's army came through here, he was Mardonius's mantis. I never actually saw him myself, but I heard quite a bit about him. The Great King held the supreme command, as you'd expect, but Mardonius was his strategist—some sort of relation, too—his son-in-law, I believe. So Mardonius's old mantis is working for Hypereides now?"

  Having need of wine, I drained my cup. "If you say it."

  "Hypereides does a little business with me once in a while. Horsehides, mostly. Maybe a bit of amber if the price is right. Say hello to him for me."

  I promised I would.

  "Is that all you want? Where Oeobazus is?"

  "If you could procure our release, we would all be very grateful," I told him.

  Cleton nodded. "I'll come out tomorrow and have a talk with Hegesistratus; then I'll see what I can do. Do you know where the temple of Pleistorus is?"

  I shook my head.

  "Northwest of the city, up on the hill. These Thracians put all their temples on hilltops, and Pleistorus's is the big one, because he's their war god. We call him Ares."

  I asked how far it was.

  Cleton fingered his beard. "I haven't been up that way all that often, son. I'd say maybe ten stades or a little bit less. There's a processional road that'll lead you out from town—you know, smoothed down and everything. You can't miss it once you get on that."

  Yet I did, and I doubt whether Cleton himself has ever gone that way by night without a lantern. The processional road he had told me of began at the marketplace, as I expected, and gave me a smooth, well-marked path out of the city, for it had gotten plenty of attention from the spade, and there was a carved post on one side or the other every ten or fifteen cubits.

  The night was nearing that moment at which one feels that dawn must come (though in fact it does not come) as I left the city behind me; and as the processional way rose, lifted by the first low hill, I could see the scarlet spark of our fire to my right. Someone had been cold enough to wake up and put on more wood, obviously; I wondered who it had been, and whether he had noticed that I was gone.

  Then the processional way divided into two, equally wide as well as I could judge in the dark, and without any indication as to which led to the temple of Pleistorus. Thinking it would be prudent to stay as near our camp as I could (for I hoped to get back before dawn), I chose the one to the right. I had not gone far when I heard music, and not much farther before my eyes caught the glare of torches.

  I had scarcely time to take a step before the dancing girls came whirling down the processional road. There were five, two clashing cymbals and two thumping tympana, followed by a larger group that included flutes and carried torches. The fifth girl, who bore no instrument, halted her wild dance to embrace me. I cannot imagine that I have ever been more surprised than I was then.

  "Don't you recognize me, Latro? I know you forget, but is it as quickly as that? Come dance with us. Can you move your feet the way I do?" She took my hand, and in a moment more I found I was prancing along beside her, greatly handicapped by my boots.

  "Step to your left, step to the right—turn and turn about. Left, right, right. You're getting it. Why, you're doing very well!" The others were dancing backward to watch, and though I could not see their smiles, I did not need to.

  "You were sitting by the fire trying to write, not so long ago, and you couldn't keep your eyes off me. Don't you want to dance with me now?"

  Between gasps I tried to explain that I had urgent business at the temple of Pleistorus.

  "You're lost, then, poor boy. This goes to the temple of the Mother of the Gods—we're coming back from there."

  Someone I at first took for one of the Amazons caught up with us then to tell us we could not dance at the head of the procession, and must wait until the king had passed.

  Very happy to wait, I nodded and moved to one side of the road; but Elata laughed at him and said that she and her friends had been dancing at the head of the procession all the way from the temple. "Oh!" he exclaimed (his tones were like those of a deep-voiced woman). "Are there many more of you?" She said that there were, and he ran on to find them—but passed all four as if blind.

  Before he was swallowed by the night, the larger group was upon us. Its dancers and musicians were mostly men and sensibly barefoot, clustered around a file of riders. Though it has been only a short time since I saw them, I cannot remember much about those who rode in the train of the first; his eyes caught mine, and I could not look away. Nor, I think, could he.

  He was youthful and tall, broad of shoulder, mounted upon a milk-white stallion. Mail that shone like gold covered him from neck to sole, save for a breastplate in the likeness of a lion, and greaves terminating in the features of a woman, tranquil and grave; but it is his own face that I remember most clearly, its thick brows, piercing eyes, and heavy jaw. It was the face of such a man, I think, as might lead entire armies to the edge of the world and beyond.

  After him, the other riders, and the strange dancers, came a rabble singing and carrying torches. I suppose that they were from the city, though I do not know. When the last of them had passed, I asked Elata whether the first rider had been the war god. She laughed at me just as she had at the womanish priest, assured me he was not, and told me that her friends had called him King Kotys.

  By that time Dawn's rose-tinted fingers barred the eastern sky, and though I had hoped to visit the temple of the Thracian War God before daylight, I wanted far more to return to our camp while Hegesistratus still slept. Together Elata and I left the road, descended the sheep-nibbled hillside, and crossed fields and jumped water-filled ditches, guided now and then by glimpses of the fading fire, and at last by the towering white column of its smoke. Hegesistratus was still in this tent, rolled in his cloak. I plunged Falcata into his back.

  At first I did not understand what I had done, and it was while I stood staring at his body that Hippephode and the black man overpow
ered me, seizing me from behind and wrenching Falcata from my hand. Hegesistratus has told them to keep me here, and not allow me to go outside; and though the black man has kindly brought me this book, with my stylus of slingstone metal pushed through its cords, he has also made it clear by many signs that he and the Amazons stand ready to kill me should I try to leave.

  When I think back upon the night, I cannot understand why I desired so greatly to take the life of Hegesistratus the mantis. It was out of friendship for him, and not from any regard for Hypereides, the captain from Thought, that I sought Oeobazus—for I do not remember the captain save as a name in this book. Yet I wished with all my heart for the death of Hegesistratus, and I saw no contradiction in that.

  Although I no longer desire the life of Hegesistratus, it seems to me that what I learned concerning Oeobazus, King Kotys, Ares, and the others may be of importance in the future. Thus I have written everything here, and I will try to remember to read it tonight.

  TWELVE

  We Will Fight

  WHEN EVERYONE HAD SPOKEN, ONLY Elata voted to do as the king has demanded. We have eaten the second meal as usual; when the fire dies, Hippephode will give the signal. We will have to leave the tent behind, with a few other things; but that cannot be helped. I will take this book and my old book, thrusting them through my belt.

  Though I have read my own account of all I did at dawn, the only things I recall are seeing Hegesistratus asleep before me, and stabbing him. Hippephode and the black man must have been watching, for one held each arm before I knew they were upon me. If I had fought, I think I might have freed myself; but I could only stand and wonder at what I had become, someone who murdered a friend and found himself prisoner of two others.

  Then Hegesistratus himself came into the tent, and only a blanket lay at my feet, a blanket that had been pierced by my sword.

  The black man brought this book, as I said. Hegesistratus would have come sooner to speak with me, I think; but a fat old man drew him aside. They talked long in voices too low for me to hear. The old man was Cleton. I cannot recall going to his house in Cobrys now; but I know I did, because I wrote about it here. And when I saw him with Hegesistratus, I recognized him and whispered his name.