#333 bc

Alkyone felt another presence in the room just before she opened her eyes. Lethos’s wife, Phanessa, was standing over her hands fluttering. “My little dove,” she cooed, “I am so sorry about your rough night, how is your head? I told Lethos that Hyrcanian wine is too strong but he only wanted the best you know!”

“Oh it was very good,” Alkyone said, her throat felt rusty. “I am so embarrassed about how I behaved, I must send my apologies to Alketas.”

“Oh, don’t spare a thought, he shouldn’t have launched into politics like that.” Phanessa leaned on the bed and stroked Alkyone’s hair back from her forehead with a wet cloth. She closed her eyes again. It just felt so motherly. Her own mother had wasted away from some illness, she had spent a lot of time in temples with her praying. They thought her grandmother had offended the gods in some way, and that was why her mother’s stomach was continually paining her. She had died about 3 years before Charonea. Alkyone thought it was a blessing that she didn’t have to go through the shame of the past few years, just the move to Athens would have been excruciating for her.

“Do you think you feel well enough to do a little weaving, or would you rather stay in bed?”

The room seemed to stink of vomit to Alkyone, and she felt trapped in it.

“It’s been too long since I had the company of other girls to weave.” she agreed.

 As she sat down in the air weaving room, she suddenly remembered another reason, besides the fact she had been on the run, that she had not spoken to many other girls. Back in Athens she had been viewed with a bit of mingled pity and contempt, and after that in Thebes just open suspicion. From their wide eyed looks these girls seemed like more of the same. Alkyone pulled open the shed of the weave and slipped her shuttle through. “Are you all excited for the feast of [bluh blah] when the moon gets full?” [Bluh blah]? It was hard to keep time when every place had different calendar names. The best she could reckon, they were in the month that in Thebes would be called [s;afnjkfd], but who knows what they called it here on the southern islands. “I’m excited for the horse race! Father said we are sure to win this year!” a freckled girl said excitedly. “I like the human races more, personally,” chuckled another. “Nothing is better than the sacrifices at twilight, with fireflies flickering about, I truly feel the god’s presence then.” a thin, pious girl responded. Alkyone felt an air of expectation upon her, “At festivals at home, I liked the music contests best.” “That’s great! We have the best chithra players here!” the freckled girl said. Soon, chattering came much easier, though she accidentally did some doubles in her weaving. They were discussing what harvest food would taste best at the feast when a slave came quietly through the door. He whispered something in his mistress’s ear.

“Oh, Artemis’s girdle. What is the point of slaves if you have to do everything yourself. Please excuse me girls, I must take care of something.” Phanessa and the woman swept out of the room.

“Good, now I can talk about what I’m really looking forward to seeing at the festival,” remarked one ruddy girl, “The wrestling matches!” Alkyone found herself giggling along. “Do you think that man who came last year with Nothon will be there? They said he was coming back with him but he never did.”

“Do you mean Tydeus? He was here last year.”

“Oh, is he your husband?” asked the freckled woman.

“No, he was my father’s friends! He’s old enough to be my father.”

“My husband’s my father’s age.” she said lightly, “I guess you got a younger one then?”

“No,” Alkyone squirmed a bit, “I never got married, my intended died and I’ve been… travelling ever since.” The room was awash in “awww”s and “oh poor dears”s

“Well, Lethos knows all the bachelors of means on the islands and in Ionia, he can set you up!”

Alkyone didn’t like the oppressive feel of pity, she tried to lighten the mood. “Well, if you have a wandering eye for Tydeus, he told me he would be back before the moon turns full, so he should be there!”

By the end of the afternoon she had a good length done for all the conversation she’d had, the length from fingertip to shoulder. It wouldn’t be so bad, to marry a wealthy man on the islands, and weave with her friends. It could almost be home. She knew she wasn’t going to follow Tydeus into Asia to chase Alexander, after all.

 Alkyone had retired for the night, but a pervasive sense of dread kept her awake. She had had sleepless nights sometimes for a long while. The anxiety from waiting for Charonea, for the battle of Thebes and for Issus had burrowed into her soul, so even when there was nothing to fear she would still lie awake. Well there is something to fear, what if something’s gone wrong in Athens? All this lying in bed had tickled her bladder.

“Lydia, fetch the bedpan.” She didn’t feel like walking down the stairs to the [restroom]. Nothing.

“Lydia!” where was the slave when you needed her? All day she was practically hovering on top of her, useless. Well, perhaps after getting up she would find getting to sleep easier.

She admired the painting of the Argonauts on the wall of the stairs as she made her way down, when suddenly she heard a muted conversation.

“...Is there a reason you can’t use the poppy all the time? It makes me nervous, that she’s just walking around. We showed Alketas she’s alive, now who cares if she’s sleeping all day.” Wasn’t that Nothon’s voice?

“Too much poppy oil can kill, and too little will addle her once it stops. Besides, today we learned that Tydeus is returning sooner than expected.” A pause. Lethos? “I wouldn’t call walking from the bedroom to the weaving quarters ‘walking about unimpeded.’ Tydeus is the one I’m worried about.”

“He’ll come. Even if he learned that we’re throwing in with King Alexander, he wouldn’t leave her. We’ll have the full package prepared for Alexander, don’t worry.”

There was a rustle nearby. Alkyone turned slowly, and walked back up the stairs, limbs stiff as Hephaestus’s automatons. Her mind was being pulled in so many directions, it felt more like she had bees buzzing in her skull than thoughts. She laid back on her bed, bladder quite forgotten.

Oh gods, it was that awful feeling again, just like when she learnt of every lost battle. It climbed through her toes, gave her shaky thighs, and when it filled her belly it turned truly foul. She laid there with her heart tattooing and skin crawling like a thousand ants. She was utterly trapped here! The sword of Damocles was starting its descent! They must have seen that Alexander was going to control the west of Persia and decided to strike a deal. So much for the sons of Democracy. What can you expect from an Athenian that doesn’t even live in Athens? That thing she’d told the freckled girl, they knew! The slave girl, she was probably reporting right now to Phanessa everything else she had breathed that day. I’m nothing but a gnat in a spider web! Was there no one else she could trust? Her thoughts ran round and round like horses at a stadium. She realized there was another person in the house of Lethos that wanted out as much as she did. The Persian.

 ----

 It seems whatever Alkyone had said had promoted Marduniya from a floor scrubbing slave to a dining room slave. Unfortunately, that also meant he had been given more “suitable” attire. The thin white chiton without any trousers made him feel so… exposed. You had to watch the way you walked up and down the stairs or the breeze would make it flip right up. And his legs felt strange just rubbing against each other all the time. At least he didn’t have to go around naked like some of the other slaves and even the dinner guests. These Greeks are such barbarians.

 One of the guests made a motion with his cup, so Marduniya went to refill it. He had done such things as a junior officer, being a cupbearer was nothing shameful to him. The man’s blue eyes narrowed as he smirked, he pointed at Marduniya and said something that made his compatriots laugh and cheer. He recognized the words “Persian” and “slave.” So soon everyone will have Persian slaves after Alexander beats us, is that right? Whatever happened at Issus, the Great King would regroup. A smaller empire might be better in the long-run anyway, Egypt was always rebelling, and as amazing as the grain crop was, maybe they just weren’t worth the trouble. Besides, weren’t these people supposed to be Tydeus’s friends? He said he wanted Alexander gone. Maybe I should try listening a bit harder. But try as he might he couldn’t get anything else about them. He did hear a lot about [festival]. And he caught the word for horse, and saw the unmistakable sign of bets being placed. So there’s to be horse races? They couldn’t be very exciting compared to Persian horse races. Greek horses were smaller and broader, the best long-legged enduring race horses were born on the plains north of Nisea. He was sure the pride-and-joys of these men would have stood no chance against his old storm gray, or even that dun Tydeus had taken from the battlefield. He was so lost in thought, the fat man seated on one of the klines was practically shaking his cup about before he noticed it.

 The rest of the evening was rather boring. It must be more exciting to be a gossip-selling servant when you know the language. Afterwards, he had to clean the amphora and cups and set them back, which cost more hours of night. By the time he made his way towards the cloisters his eyes had begun to dry and droop. He was going past the lavaratories when he heard his name whispered. It gave him a fright, but he saw a finger poke through a little hole in the wall. It came back out. “Marduniya! We have to go! We-” It was Alkyone! But her words were so shaky and hurried he had no idea what she was saying. “Sorry...what?”

 “These people… are Alexander’s people!” Yeah, I was starting to suspect… Marduniya tried in mixed Greek and Persian, “I heard at dinner, something like that… but mostly [festival] and horse races.” He had used the Greek word for horse but Persian for races. She was quiet, then said something in Greek away from him. Probably telling the slave with her she needs some more time. “Yes. Races. You could do races, yes?” I could ride better than anyone on this island, that I am sure of, he thought, but he just said, “Yes.”

“I think I have an idea.”

----

“I’m sorry about Iphicrates. I would have gone after him, but in the aftermath of the battle… I just had other concerns.” Tydeus was telling Euphenes.

“He’s a big boy, he can take care of himself.”

It was the morning after the symposium. They were lounging around Euphenes’s inner courtyard.

“I know it’s not as grand as the ones you have closer to Asia,” He said to Glaukos, “Here in Athens, if anyone suspects you’ve got two silver owls to rub together they want to you to start funding plays or maintaining naval crews. So we must be a bit more staid.”

Glaukos had never seen such a collection of plants in his life, white long-necked moon flowers, olive boughs, and plenty of flowers he couldn’t name. Surely this isn’t any better than the gardens of Babylon. “At least we can waste on fishcakes and hetairas. I noticed you took a liking to Antiope?”

Tydeus rolled his eyes, “Would you stop teasing the lad? I wanted to speak with you about the… atmosphere here. Do you think it’s safe?”

“Come with me to the agora and you’ll see for yourselves. Maybe even see Antiope again too?”

She was there, at a flower seller’s stall, haggling over the last myrtle of the season. Euphenes swooped in and paid the sum before she got the seller too low. Who pays for flowers? Glaukos thought. Trade a small fry or some beans sure, but actual coin money?

“Walk with us, Antiope, we are considering the facets of Athenian society and need another perspective.”

“Oh my, you might want to pick up a sophist in the agora, not little old me!”

Glaukos had noticed plenty of older men wearing old fashioned himation cloaks close to their bodies, giving speeches to little gaggles of followers at the foot of some columns.

“Yes, shall we listen to Demosthenes decry the ‘Common Peace of Macedon’ as another name for Tyranny, or a student of Phokion preach keeping our vows, no matter how degrading they are? That’s the irony, someone should write a play, that the Athenians argue with one another while armed Macedonians patrol the streets.” Euphenes voice was raised and he drew some looks.

Compared to the crowded streets Glaukos had encountered last night, the agora was even worse. How can people live like this? he wondered after the fourth person stepped on his foot.

He was relieved when they got to a more secluded alcove by the temple district. The white marble buildings and their gold caps gleamed in the sun, giving Glaukos a twinge of pious feeling. I should go to the temple of Poseidon to pray for everyone back home. As he turned to ask Tydeus, some men blocked the entrance to the alcove. He had seen them before in the crowd from the corner of his eye. They had rough dark cloaks with nothing underneath and greasy old sandals, basically what he had worn his entire life.

“So Euphenes the Alcomenid finally decides to go out and rub shoulders with the common people.” one of them sneered.

“Ah, Kallikles, my favorite Macedonian-bought dog! You’ve got me cornered, now maybe they’ll give you two obols a month instead of one!” Even Glaukos knew that was an insultingly low price. Antiope moved back until she was pressed against the wall, while Tydeus went to the front, his hand inside his chiton.

“You’re a fool if you think you can cry out that sort of talk in public. At least be smart enough to call the Common Peace oppressive, instead of naming the Macedonians.”

“What are you going to do? Nail me up to serve as an example?”

“Great idea!” snarled one of the men, reaching for a side arm.

Tydeus drew a short sword with a glittering gold hilt that drew all the cut-throat’s eyes, then threw a knife to Glaukos.

“You said you wanted to learn to fight? Well here you are!”

He barely caught it without cutting himself. The street brawls he’d been in at home suddenly seemed a lot more like adolescent tussles than preparations for something like this. Well, no use being a coward now.

The closest thug brandished his own knife at him, and Glaukos anxiously watched the sharp tip wave about. When he lifted it high, Glaukos leaned in and gave him a cut on the meat of his upper arm before skipping back. He yelped and stepped back, cradling his wounded limb, and Glaukos ran towards Tydeus. Blinded by the promise of loot, the three of the remaining men were engaging him, while Euphenes went sword to sword with another. Glaukos stabbed one of the distracted goons in the shoulder, earning him a howl. Tydeus blocked one blow with the beautiful blade, then turned it to cut deep into the man’s fingers on his sword’s hilt. Euphenes had beaten off his man, and suddenly it was three against Kallikles.

“Looks like my hired muscle is better than yours.” Euphenes gave a wolf’s smile.

Kallikles looked around but Glaukos stepped to block his path, then Euphenes’s blade bit the so-called dog in the chest. Glaukos jumped back from the sudden spray of blood. He hadn’t expected him to kill him, just give him a beating and send him running like the other men!

“I cannot express to you how good it feels to have removed that thorn from my side!”

Tydeus was gripping his sword and glaring at Euphenes, “So you took us out here and baited them so we could play your hired killers, is that it?”

“I knew you could handle it my friend, besides, getting rid of this man aligns with your own goals.”

Glaukos found his voice, “You could have gotten Antiope hurt!” He looked around for her but she was nowhere to be found.

“Ah, my naive little friend! She was their spotter, I brought her with us on purpose.”

He turned to Tydeus, “So you see, Athens is unsafe for everyone now a days, let alone someone in Alkyone’s delicate position. But you did me a favor and I will do one for you. Need any resources? Name it.”

“A fast boat would be nice, since we’re going to have to avoid a murder trial.”

 The trireme was outfitted with three decks of professional rowers, but it’s battering ram had been removed for speedier travel. And it had plenty of room for the horse that had sped them back to the Piraeus.

“I can’t believe he just killed his rival like that. I thought Athenian politicians were supposed to get by on their votes?” Glaukos was cleaning and sharpening two swords and knife. The knife was fine, but the swords both had knicks were they had hit bones. Euphenes had donated a whole panoply for each of them, as well as the sword he had used that afternoon, in a addition to the boat.

Tydeus just made a derisive noise. He had forgotten how tiring ordering a crew around was.

“Where did you get a blade like this?”

“From that Persian, Marduniya’s, belt. I’m better with a kopis anyway, for me an akinakes is just a big knife. You can have it.” The short akinakes had two sharp edges, and a golden hilt, with griffins forming the cross guard and a horse with a lapis lazuli mane and tail as a grip. Euphene’s sword was more utilitarian, a single edged kopis blade with a medusa inscribed on the hilt. It’s only been 2 days, and I have a sword, shield and armor! Just that was enough to make Glaukos’ head spin, let alone the betrayal and murder of the past day.

They looked up at the moon through the slat in the ceiling. It was close, but not full yet. “At this rate, we’ll be back before the festival they hold on Rhodes. So maybe we finally won’t be in a hurry every time we leave.”

 ----

 Alkyone rose early, and despite her body slaves consternated protests, walked right into Lethos’s study.

“Is something the matter?” He was caught with his stylus in the air, he had been inscribing on a wax tablet.

“I’m sorry to barge in, I just had a thought about how to repay you after you’ve been so kind to me.”

“Oh, my dear, that isn’t necessary!” It sure isn’t, you sniveling traitor.

“I heard yesterday that you had horses in the races at the festival tomorrow. Instead of tiring out your jockey in multiple heats, maybe you could use my Persian! I’m sure he’s a good rider, all noble Persians are.”

She could see the wheels turning behind his eyes. He’ll say yes, he’s a slave to money, anything that can help him win is a sure bet.

“What a great idea, Alkyone! You will make someone a practical wife someday,” he smiled.

Alkyone clamped a smile onto her own face. How can he act like that when he knows full well he’ll be handing me off to die in a few days?

She demurely backed out of the room and went back upstairs to accompany Phanessa to breakfast.

 Now was the worst part of the plan, spending the day agonizing about the variables. The fluffy fish with spicy sauce and poached egg with honey would have tasted amazing if her throat and stomach hadn’t clenched with every swallow. Back in the weaving room, she barely contributed to the excited conversation about the festival the next day. Beating the weft to align each thread helped her gather her thoughts. She would get food from the kitchens late at night, this cloth she was finishing would be her cloak… what was she thinking her plan was crazy, it would never work! No! She would do this and escape, or she was dead, dead, dead! Or worse than dead, a little thought whispered, what if he marries you to some horrible Macedonian who could have killed your father and rounded up your old friends to sell as slaves? She felt a fresh stab of fear right above her kidneys. That won’t happen.

 -----

The horse under Marduniya whinnied, showing the inside of his upper lip at the mares penned nearby. He shook his head, who races with a stallion? True, they could be faster and stronger, but they were heavier and could also decide they wanted to mate with the mare in last place mid-race. The prudent man always chooses a gelding, his father had often spoken the old saying, meaning a practical person picks a compromise. But the plan Alkyone had whispered to him through the hole in the latrine wasn’t practical, and didn’t involve winning. This rearing stallion will be perfect.

 Another slave was working the horses, some tribesman from the banks of the Euxine sea. He was not quite a Scythian, but he knew his way around horses too, and some clumsy Persian. “Crap horses, but better than the rest of the island.” he said to Marduniya. Finally, another one around here that can talk. “So we’ll win no problem, huh? Do we get freed if we win?” Marduniya was sure the slave jockeys had to have an incentive. At home any nobleman worth his salt would have his own sons race for family glory, but not here. Any mirth on the other slave’s face died. “There is only winning. Don’t think about losing.” Killing a slave for losing a race would be a ridiculous waste of resources, but for a man as rich as this Lethos, who knew? Or maybe he tortures them? He had seen some scars on the Thracians and Illyrians, but they were all on the front like sword cuts from a battle, not knotted back scars like someone scourged. He prefered not to know. “The problem is, it’s not all about going fast. Other riders will try to knock you off.” Marduniya had fallen from his horse after his first battle, but not during. That had been part of his training from childhood, to grip the horse and hold on no matter how much you or it twisted in exertion. “I was a lancer in the the cavalry of the Great King! You think I’ll be knocked off my mount by the likes of you?” The other man rolled his eyes, then suddenly straightened and cast them down. The foreman was back to yell at them. It’s only been 2 days, I haven’t magically learned Greek. Marduniya listened to his staccato bleating impatiently, until the man drew a finger over his throat and pantomimed tossing a body. Finally he left.

“So I think I got it, but what was that all about.”

“The usual. You Oriental women better win or we’ll geld you and throw you in the ocean with stones ties to your feet.” he paused. “Only one of us will win… have a good death, Persian.” he squeezed his mount with his knees and rode away. So that’s how it is…

 ----

 Tydeus and Glaukos disembarked onto Rhodes during the first hour of gray dawn. The savory smell of the dawn festival sacrifices was blowing down into the harbor.

“Do we get to have a little fun, boss?” one of the sailors called through the oar hole.

“This is an island in contested territory, where the enemy navy could dock at anytime. What do you think, oarsmen?” the man wilted a bit.

“You may disembark to get a hot meal, but afterwards, man the ship. That’s an order!”

There was some grumbling from the ship as they left the docks.

Glaukos turned to Tydeus. “Do you really mean that, sir? That enemies could appear at any time?”

“They could, but mostly sailors trying to flout my orders pisses me--” he stopped in his tracks, gazing off to another ship passengers waiting on a gangplank.

“Dionysodorus! Dionyso, is that you?” A tall, muscled man turned around.

“Do my eyes deceive me? Tydeus, son of Medon!” the man, Dionysodorus, had a tired smile.

Tydeus jogged up and squeezed his hand in greeting. “How was the embassy to the Great King? How did you escape capture, I heard they got Iphicrates--”

“Alexander got me too.”

“Then what happened, how did you escape?”

“Well, let me start with the whole story. King Darius was very amenable to financing our cause, we had some documents sealed by him, but now that Alexander’s captured part of his treasury and killed his way through his nobles and mercenaries, that’s probably null and void. He even got his golden chariot and tent with his family, you know.” he sighed.

“We were in one of the tents he captured, but it happened so fast we didn’t realize what had happened, or we would have taken our own lives. But they brought me, Thessaliscus, Euthycles the Spartan and Iphicrates to the boy king. And right away, he said he pardoned me and Thessaliscus, because he understood that as exiles from a destroyed city we were doing whatever we could to get justice, and because he respected my win at the Olympic games. Euthycles he has in custody, he kept Iphicrates but let’s him move about freely--”

 Glaukos had been so focused on the man’s story he hadn’t seen Tydeus expression until Dionysodorus had wrinkled his brow in concern. His face had turned the purple of a hanging man, his mouth pressed in a white line.

 “You were in his presence, and then you left when you were dismissed like a good boy? You should have cut his throat for what he’d done to Thebes!”

“With what?! You think they didn’t take our weapons?”

“You should have put out his eyes with your thumbs! Strangled him!”

“You can’t be serious! First of all, I would have been dead before I touched him, and secondly, to kill someone who granted you freedom after expecting death is--”

“I used to think that my fellow Olympians had steel in their souls, but now I see you’re just a coward, happy to run home with your life! I would have died just to put a scratch on that bastard!”

The other passengers of the boat and some people from the dock were starting to gawk at the exchange. The sun had risen above the horizon, casting a glow that made both men’s faces look even more red.

Tydeus turned and started walking away. Glaukos stood rooted to the spot. “His grief has been transmuted to madness.” Dionysodorus said, mostly to himself, before turning to Glaukos. “You should stay away from him, young man, if you know what’s good for you. People like that tear down many others on their own path to Hades”

If I got in a boat now, I could be home in time for dinner, the thought came unbidden to his mind. And then at this time tomorrow you’d be getting a lecture that you weren’t hauling the bream right. He ran off to catch up to Tydeus before he called for him.

----

 Tydeus said he would be here by now, Alkyone thought as she toyed with the fig on her plate. The household of Lethos was having an early breakfast, so they could hurry to witness the morning sacrifice that would kick off the day of celebrations.

“I don’t like to fill my stomach too much in the morning either,” Phanessa confided from her left side. “Here, this beverage will wake you up and keep you full until we can eat under the tent at the events, I swear by it.” She handed her a delicate ceramic cup. You swear by it, but you’re not drinking it now, Alkyone observed. She thought back to her first experience drinking in the house. They wouldn’t want me to come to the festival, why take the risk I could get lost in the crowd? A little poppy, I feel too sick to come, and they’re saved the anxiety. Unfortunately for them, she had her own plan, and it required her attendance. As a slave passed behind her, Alkyone pretended to be bumped. “Oh!” The cup and it’s dubious contents were smashed onto the ground.

“Oh no, how clumsy of me! Let me clean it, it’s the least I can do!” Alkyone reached down and palmed the largest shard.

“Don’t be ridiculous,” Phanessa directed the passing slave, “clean it!” Did I detect some irritation? “We’ll make you up a new one right away.”

“No I’m fine, really, and we’re going to be late!”

 Alkyone smoothed her veil unconsciously as she swayed in the palanquin with Phanessa. She had chosen a periwinkle color that would probably fade after the day in the sun, but seemed appropriate for a festival of the sea. “Thank you again for bringing me along,” Alkyone gave a saccharine smile. Phanessa responded with a tight one. “Of course, what kind of person would I be tantalizing you with talk while weaving then barring you from coming?” Oh, just the terrible person you are.

 The palanquin stopped at the the edge of the residential district. “We have to walk along the sacred way ourselves, it’s traditional.”

They joined Lethos, Nothon, and that Alketas from her first day there. Their little group was firmly ensconced in a circle of slaves from the manor. Marduniya wasn’t there. He’s probably helping transport horses to the stadium. She hadn’t been able to contact him last night, so she wasn’t even absolutely sure that Lethos had taken her advice to use him as a jockey, despite his positive reaction. “I’m so happy to see you still haven’t left Rhodes, sir.” she said, sidling up to Alketas. “Now I can properly apologize to you.”

“Apologize for what,” he said lightly, “it is already forgotten.” Well, hopefully you won’t be forgetting today for a long time. Now that her plan was rolling into action, she still felt the anxiety of before, but now it was a buoying force, making her giddy. This must be how the soldiers feel before a charge, or else they’d never willingly run towards danger. She turned to Phanessa on her other side, “Do you have a spare stick of kohl? It’s been so long that I’ve seen a proper sacrifice done the Hellene way, I fear I will become too emotional… I don’t want to spend the rest of the day looking like a harpy with old kohl trails around my eyes.” Phanessa got a spare from her body slave and presented it without comment. Her smile that used to seem motherly now looked condescending. Alkyone tucked the stick into the small pocket of her long Ionian chiton with the ceramic shard.

 It hadn’t all been a ploy. As the priest raised a knife over his head, reciting the sacred words, and the white bull lowed and tossed his garlanded head, Alkyone’s eyes filled with tears from recalling home.  Maybe one day Thebes will be rebuilt, and we’ll have sacrifices at the temple of the Amphion again… The smell of blood hitting the altar from the bull’s throat jerked her back to attention, and the smoke of the burnt sacrifice followed them back to the city as they walked towards the stadium.

 “Do you know what order the events are?”

“First music contests, then wrestling,  long jumps, javelin toss, foot races, and finally horse races.”

You’d think a festival celebrating the lord of the sea and horses would have horse racing first, Alkyone thought impatiently. But then again everyone loved a big finale, and moving dead horses out of the way was best left for last, instead of delaying the next event.

 At the stadium, they found their viewing tent that had already been set up by slaves. The yellow and gray of the sails of Lethos’s ships was complemented by a little purple fringe. Gaudy. From the inner pavilion they were able to enjoy the starting fanfare of the games in shade.

 The music festivals only heightened her anxiety. Instead of some soothing lyre playing, it was a contest of Aulos flutes. Some armies marched to the tune of the reedy two-tone flute, which put her in mind of battles past and future. Then, some contestants tried some more oriental approaches to music, with singing and playing different notes, that put her in mind of some dionysian frenzy. When they crowned the winner, a more conservative contestant, with the laurel, she was relieved.

 Wrestling was next. As an unmarried woman, Alkyone knew she was allowed to watch the nude men compete, but Phanessa did not retire. It seemed like the Aegean Islands didn’t have the same rules as the mainland Olympic games. The first contest involved two men of extreme varying sizes. Alas, no matter how many clever holds the smaller man strove with, his boulder-like opponent defeated him. Let’s hope that’s not prophetic. She squirmed a bit on her seat, “Alas, maybe I can fit a trip to the latrine before the next bout?”

 If Alkyone had not already known their plan, she would have wondered at the size of her entourage as she made her was to the latrine tents. All major events needed additional room for calls of nature, since so many people came in from the surrounding farmland. The small tents were more private than the more permanent communal bathrooms, which was just what she needed. She could see the shadows of the 8 slaves that were accompanying her through the tent’s fabrics, but she knew no one could see within. She took out the kohl stick and shard and wrote an ostakon message.

 ----

 The exchange with Dionysodorus left a bitter taste in Tydeus’s mouth. He supposed the man’s family had to be safely tucked away in Athens, no man whose family was sold into slavery could have possible just walked away from the person who was responsible. He heard Glaukos’s running strides to catch up with him but didn’t turn his head. “Sir, perhaps if Alexander forgave that man, he could forgive--” Tydeus rounded on him but before he could speak,

“I know, you would never bend your knee to him, but maybe Alkyone wouldn’t have to worry anymore. If he didn’t punish a man plotting with his enemy, would he really hurt a girl just because of her parents?”

“He sold the women and children of Thebes into slavery, so yes, he would.”

“Well, perhaps he regrets it and wants to change things.”

“Maybe it’s a trap. What did he have to lose letting them go? They are exiles with no power, especially if the Great King is in flight. Iphicrates and the Spartan were the high price items. He can rehabilitate his image with no risks. Alkyone and I are a much riskier proposition.”

The boy seemed chastened by that.

“These political things… it just seems like everything is motivated by something hidden.”

Yes, I struggled with it as well, when Podaleirus would explain these things to me.

“Let’s see if we can find Lethos’s tent at the stadium, I’m sure it will be the tackiest one.

----

 Rhodes had always been like a more splendid big brother to Karpathos, so despite the trimmings for the festival, Glaukos felt at home compared to Athens. At home they are celebrating the feast to Poseidon too. He smiled thinking of his brothers and sisters walking to the small temple at Olympos to participate in the celebration. They never had horse races, but a foot race around the town was a staple. They picked their way through town to the stadium.

“That one has to be it,” Tydeus said, pointing to a gray and yellow tent with purple trim. He made a disdainful face, but Glaukos liked how the yellow made the purple stand out, like putting goldenrod with myrtle in the same wreath.

“Let’s see if we can squeeze in there.”

They stepped awkwardly over the many families that had come from outside of town, watching while sitting on some spread together cloaks. Finally they made it to the entrance, and waved past the attendant guards.

“Greetings, Lethos and Nothon! Sorry to come at such an inconvenient time!”

Glaukos didn’t like the look that crossed the two men’s faces when they saw them. It wasn’t shock, it just seemed  more predatory, just for a flicker, then the ‘polite surprised host’ mask slipped in to replace it.

“Oh Tydeus don’t apologized! We’re thrilled you were able to come earlier.”

“Yes, it’s so good to see you!” Alkyone jumped up and almost tripped over a cushion. Glaukos moved forward to catch her hand, pre-empting Tydeus. He caught her, then she made a show of righting herself as she pressed something hard into his palm. He looked up to catch her eye, but she had swept over to Tydeus, Lethos and Nothon, telling the former about the wrestling maneuver he had missed. Glaukos snuck a glance at his palm. There was a little pottery shard with small, neat writing on it. I don’t know how to read, he panicked. What could it even be? A love letter? As nice a thought that was, he didn’t think that was the truth. Maybe… something’s wrong and she can’t say it in front of everyone.

 The next bout was starting, so everyone hurriedly got back on their cushions. Glaukos made sure to stay close to Tydeus but on the opposite side of Lethos and Nothon. The two wrestlers were evenly matched, body-wise, the battle would come down to wits. During a particularly deft hold when everyone’s eyes were held on the action, Glaukos discreetly poked Tydeus in the side. The earned him a quick glare, but he put the little shard over his hand. Tydeus palmed it, and read while he acted like he was adjusting his position. After ten heartbeats, he crumbled the delicate little shard against the sandy ground. He read it that fast? He looked up from the tiny remnants to Tydeus’s face, which had gone slightly pale, but was working it’s way up to red. One of the wrestlers had caught his opponent behind the knee and slammed his head into the ground. The stadium erupted in cheers. Amidst the noise, Tydeus bent close to Glaukos’s ear and said without looking at him, “We’ve been betrayed. Wait for the signal, and we’ll have to run back to the boat.” What? He was slightly irritated. This shit again? I wanted to watch the games, not be a fugitive again. What could the signal be anyway? Match after match passed while Glaukos watched Tydeus and Alkyone from the corner of his eye, but neither of them gave any indication of a signal. Maybe he assumed that I read the message? They had a light mid-day meal with pomegranates for desert and relieved themselves during the intermission, but Tydeus didn’t acknowledge his questioning looks with a response. Probably because of all these people surrounding us. Lethos had about 10 slaves trailing them, and not just little push-overs, but big tattooed Thracians. The shadows lengthened so much they had to reposition the tent, and he was getting tired of being on edge. Finally Alkyone said something more than a flippant comment about the event, “Marduniya, the Persian, is in this event!”

“Really dear, you should rename that slave, it’s really quite the barbaric mouthful.” Phanessa answered, sprawled out beside her.

“Could we get closer to the action?”

“Do you want dust kicked into your face?”

“Let’s at least go to the mouth of the tent!” Alkyone said, turning to them.

Is this the signal? They moved close to the opening, standing up now like most of the crowd, but they were still surrounded by guards and the crush of the crowd, there was no way they were running through this. Glaukos could barely recognize the Persian from the sick, half-drowned lump that had been in his house four days ago. He had the same pants on as before, felt boots and a Median style shirt with fitted sleeves. His horse looked raring to go. The referee raised the short whistle-flute to his lips…

 ----

 Marduniya’s inner turmoil was reflected in his cuvetting horse. He had spent the last two days training it in the maneuver he was going for, but two days was nothing when it came to horse training. All day his gut had been roiling, and the sporting events didn’t do much to distract him. Who the hell runs and jumps around while naked? These Greeks are crazy. But then again, he wasn’t sure why anyone would dedicate themselves to running if you could just ride a horse much faster. Just like the last meal before a battle, he made sure his lunch wasn’t too heavy or anything that would cause bloating or gas. He had seen his little Getae friend, who had given him a smile showing all the teeth. Still, he hoped that after this race that madman didn’t kill the kid.

Finally, the race overseer tooted the approach to the starting line. The flute just didn’t have the same dignity as a Persian trumpet, making the moment seem oddly comical to him. Glancing about he could see that the other rich men of the island were more practical than his “master” and had chosen mares to race. Perfect. The crowd started cheering, kind of strange considering they would have been disgusted by him if he was walking along the road. The referee gave the signal for silence, and then… GO!

 He gave the horse a squeeze on the belly and a slap on the flanks to get it to ride into a gallop at once. The beginning and the turns were the most dangerous parts of the race, with all the horses bunched together. A light Greek youth next to him tried to elbow him off the saddle, but Marduniya caught him on the hook of his elbow and flipped him over the horse’s rump. That’s one down, out of 15. Despite the lack of rider, his horse continued to run, enjoying being part of the herd. That’s right, keep going. His concentration was swiftly ended by a punch in the jaw by some half-Scythian looking little bastard. He drove his bigger stallion into the other horse’s path, reaching out his arms to grapple him from the saddle. His opponent caught on, and soon Marduniya’s leg was being crushed against the two horses as they tried to pull each other off. Suddenly, his own horse swerved away, causing the Scythian to fall between them into the gap, just on top of another rider that the horses had moved to avoid. Marduniya looked around quickly to take stock of his surroundings, ignoring his throbbing jaw. Seven riderless horses milled about, though most of the thrown riders had gotten themselves outside the barricade, out of harm’s way. There were three riders ahead of him, and they were working on defeating each other. Two of the lithe riders were twisting out of the way of a heavier man. There was always a trade-off, a heavier rider would slow the horse down, but in a no holds barred race it could be an advantage.

 The two riders pulled ahead and the third slowed, and turned his attention on Marduniya. This one looked like a Getae compatriot of his buddy from the horse yard. He had a large blue boar tattooed on the arm he was trying to grapple Marduniya with. He slowed down, and moved to the outside of the turn, making the Getae smirk with victory. Then he surged forward, grabbed him and slammed the man’s head against the tall fence post of the turn. He was stunned, and comically rolled off the rump of his horse. Marduniya could hear the cheers of the crowd, and it got his blood up. Let’s see if you’re cheering once I finish this. There were only three other riders left besides him, and he knew he wasn’t going to catch up to the, before the next corner. It’s now or never. He slowed down a bit, and looped to the very inside of the track. The riderless horses were still cantering along. “Hey lion,” he spoke in a low voice to his horse, “don’t you want to guide that harem of mares? Isn’t it your dearest wish?” The stallion had been fighting him every time they had passed a mare.

333 BC

 It was the stench of a battle just ended: offal and dust that had not yet settled. Looking down from the vantage point of the small foothill in the Amanus range, Tydeus shook his head. He had been sure the battle of Granicus River was a fluke, that Memnon of Rhodes had handled it badly. But now Alexander the Macedonian had cut down the King of Persia! At least that was what it appeared had happened, a figure had slumped against the gold plated chariot, and suddenly the Persian cavalry had fallen into a rout.

“If only we had gotten here yesterday,” sighed his companion.  Tydeus grunted. He didn’t like Nothon’s accusatory tone. “I have a feeling he would have refused us anyway.” “Well the boss’ll be mad we didn’t at least give it a shot, so we better give him that story.” Together they had been traveling to join the embassy of Iphicrates the Athenian ask the Great King for resources to raise another army in Greece. “Is that thug in Tyrian purple really your boss? I was hoping to say that at least I served some Athenian politician.”

“He’s the one taking care of your interests with your girl, so I would say he’s your boss.” What is that supposed to mean? Tydeus rounded on the man, his shortness exaggerated by Tydeus’s own height. “Well we’re going to need some Persians to like us, or at least give us some gold. Let’s pick up one to ransom before the Macedonians start rounding up all of their prisoners.” He started to lope down the hill with surprising ease. Nothon had said he was a political exile of Athens living in Rhodes, but his manner made him seem more like a street cut-throat. Still, Tydeus reflected, he had helped him out of some tough spots in the past year. At first, He and Alkyone had managed to get their footing in Sardis. Alas, he should have known that the ancient proud city would not being able to resist Alexander promising independence from the Persian empire. After the battle of the Granicus river they had had to leave once more. However, by then the Athenians had gotten their bluster back, and sent an embassy to the Great King, complete with representatives from Thebes and Sparta. Seeing the desperation of the situation, Tydeus and Nothon had been sent with authority to give in to steeper demands of the Great King, if it came to that.

 Getting a hostage would be smart, as long as he wasn’t so injured he would die on them.

In the pandemonium of the rout, the horses of the Persian nobles had fanned out. Most of the troops that had fought were heading towards the enemy camp for loot; Tydeus and Nothon skirted the edges of the battlefield, to the high scrublands towards the headwaters of the Pinarus river. There, injured horses bugled and bit one another, gorging themselves with water. “We should take one, before they kill themselves drinking too much.”

“If you want to reach in there and drag a horse from water, be my guest.” It was by a more shaded glen of birches growing by the river did they start finding bodies. From the tracks Tydeus could see that on the way back to Issus to pick up their camp and start moving, some of the more injured men had fallen from their horses and been trampled by their fellows. He turned one with his toe. No, this one’s stone dead too. Ahead, Nothon, bent over one slumped against a birch “We’ve got a live one! He’s wearing some purple and scarlet too!”

His eyes were glazed over, and there was a dark patch of red across his chest to his left shoulder, but he was definitely alive. From his earlier years in Ionia, Tydeus knew his fur-lined cap held in place with a red ribbon was a mark of nobility, though to him the man’s yellow and indigo zigzagged trousers and fitted purple tunic with scarlet seams looked more gaudy and barbaric than a mark of high breeding. He looked like a young man, his beard was light and face unlined, though covered in dust. Tydeus pointed to the wound “Is it bad?” he said in slow Persian. He just looked back at him. Nothon peeled away his collar, “It’s ugly, but it seems to have knit up from him slumping like that. Too bad we don’t have a dog to lick it”

“So you’re a doctor now too?”

“Didn’t I tell you I was trained in the Asclepia?”

“It would be best if we could put him on a horse…” The horses drinking at the river were still stamping dangerously, but Tydeus heard a snort away from the copse. A few steps through some thorns and he saw the source. It was leggier than the Nisean chargers by the river, with bigger eyes and smaller facial bones. The horse’s reins were hopelessly tangled in the thorny brush, and it’s chest plate have been almost hacked off and was now thumping against its knees with each movement. It snorted again, giving a wild tug against the branches to no avail. “Shhhh, shhhh pretty lady,” Tydeus could see it was a mare “Got yourself all tangled up huh?” He seized the reins by the showy bridle with golden florette cheek pieces and cut off the knotted parts. Rubbing her neck, be bent down to remove the chest plate “There, there, nice Xanthe.” It wasn’t a creative name, the horse was yellow dun with dark points and mane. He looped the leftover leather into the bridle to make a crude lead rope. “Hope you’re strong enough to make it back to [Issus? Town name] with some dead weight.”

---

 Alkyone looked at the dust cloud through the courtyard window. One would think that only the gods would have the power to make something so large it could be visible from miles away, but it was only a human army. She was worried about Tydeus, he had supposed to meet with the King before the battle happened, but he still hadn’t returned. That Alexander was always at their heels! First they had gone to Sardis, where Tydeus and her father had contacts, people who handled the trade across the Mediterranean. For a few months they had lived comfortably, the Macedonian army was busy consolidating its hold on its northeastern border. Then when the news came that they were crossing into Asia, Alkyone was assured by the military parade when the troops had gone out with Memnon of Rhodes. It reminded her of the time before Charonea so much her heart squeezed, but they had more horse troops and lighter soldiers, unlike the heavy hoplites that had been crushed by the Macedonian cavalry charge, or so she had heard Tydeus and their host discussing one night.

But it was just a repeat of the past 3 years of her life. The news the battle was lost, the discussion of surrender to Alexander, and she and Tydeus were in exile from the exile once more.

At least on their journey south, they had met Nothon. He and his benefactor Lethos were just the sort of people her father would have loved, who wanted Hellenes to live democratically in their cities, not joined in tyrannical leagues or crushed under tyrants like Alexander. Lethos was an Athenian born, but he lived in Rhodes to manage his shipping routes better. When he’d heard their plight, he had set them up in Cyprus and given Tydeus his mission to help Iphicrates win over the Great King.

Cyprus was...alright. It was ancient and legendary, the birthplace of Aphrodite, so she told herself she should have felt a home. But it was strange compared to Athens and Sardis. Hellene was just one stripe of the fabric in Cyprus, it was underlaid with an Anatolian warp and bits of Babylonian and Phoenician woven in. Every Eastern style shawl, every curl-toed sandal, every round-ended accented word was a reminder she wasn’t home. Maybe she should check the docks today, Tydeus could have gotten back just at the nick of time. She would have to ask the steward.

Lethos owned the house, basically a glorified adjunct to a storage warehouse. It wasn’t much of a house, and all the “servants” were shipping slaves or the stewards personal staff, so once again Alkyone had no one to curl her hair well. At least the steward, an older Phoenician, was biddable, though he acted so nervous. At first it was nice to have all her requests obeyed with haste, but lately it was frustrating. She just wanted to talk, but everyone tiptoed around her. When she caught the steward in the stairwell, he nearly leapt into the wall. “Sir, I know I’m being tiresome, but do you think you could lend me an escort to check the docks this morning? I feel like there will at least be new--”

“Of course, of course, let me just send for Doru and Thrax” Ugh, not them. The two intimidating men had made her feel safe in the more unsavory sections of the dock, but lately she had noticed that their eyes weren’t looking for threats around her, but at her. At first she was going to complain to the steward about a lecherous gaze, but the looks on their faces… it was like she was muzzled dog that had to be kept on a leash and in sight at all times. Well no wonder, could you imagine how upset their master would be if I got lost? Stop being so paranoid.

 Alkyone put on a striped shawl with copper weights so she would tinkle like a local. If anything in the past year she had learned how to attract less attention. So much for being a beacon. The port in [town] faced the gulf of Issus, and had grown even richer supplying the Great King’s army at such close quarters. The market stalls had their goods arranged on the ground, wood was at a premium compared to the mainland. She strolled with her escort two steps behind, eyeing some cochineal dyed veils. It was so awkward now, living at the whims of a benefactor instead of having her own family’s money! But she wasn’t here to buy, anyway.

 The dock was awash with fishing boats and modest bireme transport ships, but a crowd was forming around one in particular. There was shouting “I saw it with my own eyes! The cavalry running away, the center crumpling! Alexander beat the Great King before his navy could come here to reinforce him!” What! Even the Great King? Alkyone had heard Tydeus and Nothon discussing their courses of action before they left, they were sure at best Alexander the Macedonian would manage a bloody tie that would set back his numbers enough for fighting back in Greece to become an option again. “How could this happen, I thought the Great King had all the best troops in the rest of the world?”

 “If we still had King Ochos or his son, this would have never happened” she heard a man sniff. She turned and saw an old Mede leaning against a terracotta wall. “Why not?” She wasn’t in the habit of calling out to strangers but these times called for less decorum. “They were true sons of the line of Darius the Great!” he said in the Phoenician patois that was the common tongue on the island, “When they died without issue, not everyone was willing to accept a distant cousin as heir. It’s hard to lead an army when all of the satrapies are half following and half considering how easy it would be to become their own kingdoms. Persians can never get transfers of power right, when the Medes ruled Babylon --”

“Uh, thanks for your wisdom,” Alkyone hurried along. Did they make it to the Great King in time? Does it even matter? What if they were captured? Her thoughts started to take a selfish slant. This man Lethos obviously wanted a capable man like Tydeus for help with his aims to liberate Greece, but what about her? If Tydeus never came back would she still be allowed to live in the storehouse? If it came to that she would have to convince him that she had good symbolic value as the daughter of the man who helped orchestrate Thebes rebellion. Her father had always seen that. She had been betrothed to another family, the son of a Boeotarch who was part of the Sacred Band. When he died at Charonea her father had declared that she was in mourning for Thebes’ lost freedom and would only marry again at the foot of the Kithairon after the Daedala. Before that happens, I’ll be an old spinster. I’m already 19!

A sail caught the corner of her eye. It was striped yellow and grey, it had many brothers strung up in the warehouse. One of Lethos’s transport ships, could it be them? It seemed maddeningly close, but it took all afternoon for the boat to finally sail into the harbor. By then Alkyone had worked herself into a panic that Tydeus was dead, convinced herself otherwise, fallen into despair that it was probably just carrying Egyptian grain and no news, and finally worked her hopes back up that Tydeus and Nothon were coming back. Thrax and Doru had just played knucklebones.

An old Tyrian jumped first off the ship to tie the moorings, then she saw Tydeus step off. Oh thank Hera, Aphrodite, Zeus, Poseidon, everyone! But what came out of her mouth was “Is it true that Alexander won and now the Great King is in flight?” He sighed, “Yes, it’s true. Soon the Macedonian navy will be here.” Her whole body seemed to sink a bit. “Get on the ship.” “What? You mean now?” Suddenly Thrax and Doru seemed to snap to attention. “She’s not going anywhere!” “We’re going to Rhodes you fools. Go tell your steward we will finally be paying his master a visit.” That cowed them straight away. “But can’t we eat something first?” It was lame, but Alkyone just couldn’t take another weary flight to a new place. “We’ve got kerkyon on the boat, come on.” Great, porridge… I should have bought some fish cakes while I had the chance.

 So she stepped onto the boat, with its disconcerting lilt. She had never even been on a boat until that day over a year ago, and she was hoping it was something she never had to get used to. The low-bodied merchant ship relied on its mast than the one bank of oars, which meant it had more room for cargo but that getting to Rhodes would take at least 2 days. A slick bireme pulled past them easily. At least I don’t have to share room with sweaty rowers.

 Besides Nothon, Tydeus and herself, there was only an old brown Tyrian sailor holding the tiller and -- “Is that a Persian?!” she squealed, pointing at a trousered man curled up by an oar bench. “You bet, Despoina,” Nothon chuckled, “right now he’s too feverish to be of much use.” Sure enough, in the sunny afternoon his teeth were chattering. “Make yourself of some use and get Alkyone some kerkyon.” That wiped the smile off of Nothon’s face. He threw a glare over his shoulder at Tydeus and went into the hold. “It’s good we have an alkyone with us, to protect us from fall storms.” the creaky voice of the old sailor intoned with a wink. At least it looked like a wink, years of squinting at the glare off the sea made his eyes seemed closed all of the time. The original Alkyone had had the god of winds for her father, but the old sailor seemed to forget that she had helped cause a great storm with her hubris before her redemption as a kingfisher bird. I’ll give you a goat in Rhodes, Aeolus and Poseidon, as long as we don’t have a storm!

Marduniya was led to a room with little cloisters of straw pallets. “Bed,” the man said, in an exaggerated slow drawl like Marduniya was a lack-wit. Some blue tattooed men were already sleeping in some palettes. So much for being a guest. When Tydeus the Theban had told him his story, and that he would take him back to Persia in exchange for help and connections, he had believed him. More fool you, everyone knows Yauna… or Hellenes are liars. According to all he had heard of Athens and the like, lying was their principal occupation.

He had to escape, but right now he was so tired, between his fever, the ship capsizing, and his anxiety during the voyage to Rhodes he was exhausted. Persians just weren’t meant for boats.

He tried to get to sleep but his thoughts kept going to before the battle. On the estate by the Caspian sea his father had managed, he had lived with his brothers and sisters. The war seemed like an exciting diversion, there was no thought in his mind that it could ever threaten his home. Looking at the army amassed in Zadrakarta and knowing one 7 times larger would be meeting by the gulf, he had felt invincible. But now that the Western half of the empire was undefended, who knew what would happen? Egypt would fold in a second, they were always rebelling, and Babylon… from there it was a straight shot to Elam, Anshan and Varkana, the heart of the Persian empire! His father was dead, he had no idea what had happened to his brothers, his mother and sisters could be completely undefended with a horde of Yauna heading their way! He tossed and turned on the pallet, it was uncomfortable anyway. He wished he had his short sword and bow, but that Tydeus had probably taken them with the rest of his things. He thought with irritation to him giving away the gold plaques from his spare tunic to those fisherpeople. They had told the story of the first song, a poet chastising the hunter who killed a crane in the middle of its mating dance. All alone they didn’t mean anything… just like him.

 He awoke to the sound of a stick hitting a wall, and then hitting him. Someone was shouting what he could only assume was “Get up! Get up!” and various other unsavory things. He got up as quickly as he could. After the past few days, his trousers were stiff and uncomfortable from salt and sweat, but he’d be damned if he walked around bare-legged like some sort of prostitute like these people.

 All the other men started to leave like they knew where they were going, so Marduniya decided to play along. Please don’t be quarry work… But to his surprise, these large men quickly engaged themselves in scrubbing a floor. When he took too long staring, the same man who had brought him to the bed yesterday clipped him on the head with the stick. He pointed at the floor and shouted in Greek. Somebody had spewed all down a staircase that led to an ornate door. Marduniya didn’t need to be told twice, he got down and tried his best to look busy. He tried to hail his companions in Persian, Babylonian and Phoenician, but they didn’t acknowledge him.

A descendant of the tribe of Arsama, brought down to scrubbing vomit off floors, maybe the Greeks are right and the gods enjoy laughing at our expense. The wise god Ahura Mazda was supposedly above such things. Since the other men didn’t acknowledge him, he moved closer to the door where there was more room to sprawl out. Getting all the gunk out of the tiny rivulets of grout between the mosaic tiles was going to be a nightmare.

 As he was wringing out his rag he heard a groan come from within that sounded… familiar. He snuck a glance at the others. They seemed thoroughly absorbed in their wretched task. Slowly he got up, and cracked the door. It was the girl, Alkyone! With embarrassment, he remembered the first time they had spoken. He was in the throes of a fever dream, and had thought she was some sort of yazata. What had happened, was she sick? A beam of light came through the door and hit her face, causing her to open her eyes. She said something in Greek, but he recognized his name.

 “Yes, Marduniya. Clean the floors.” He said in Greek, recalling what the foreman had commanded. She squinted at him in confusion. Then she said slowly, in some passable Persian, “Marduniya… Marduniya I think it was bad coming here! The people… they made my wine bad.” They had poisoned her? Drugged her? That would explain the vomit.

He heard the foreman’s shouting behind him. Great, now I’m really dead. He ran into the room yelling, but to Marduniya’s surprise Alkyone yelled back, clutching her head. It must really be pounding. The man looked chastened. She said something else in a low whisper. Unfortunately, Marduniya had not spent enough time in Ionia before to learn any Greek, but he could hear the tone of orders with a little sweetness laid over them in any language. He went out the door and motioned for Marduniya to leave as well. Alkyone rubbed her eyes, “I said you are my…” she cast her hand about trying to think of the word and looked uncomfortable, “slave. So you don’t clean the floors.” The foreman looked on in irritation. Can’t speak Persian either? Good to know. Even if he was her slave, staying in her bedroom would have been inappropriate, he wasn’t a eunuch after all. “My Thanks, get well.” he told her before walking out. If what she said was true, that these people weren’t on their side after all… well at least he had someone else who wanted to escape.

---

 Glaukos led Xanthe towards the stable on the side street. The horse was unperturbed at the bustle on the street, unlike Glaukos. Vendors with all sorts of food and goods lined the alleyways, he passed by one hawking fried octopus on a stick. At home that had been a rare treat. No, this is Tydeus’s money, I’m not spending it on trifles! Though if they had information then maybe…

He reached the stable with his self discipline intact. A groom looked up from currying a gray horse. “Have you got the boarding fee?” “Tydeus didn’t say anything about a boarding fee, he’s a guest of the master of the house.” “Well he must have not mentioned it because it’s so obvious. A quarter of a Daric should be sufficient.” A quarter of a Daric! That was almost enough to buy a horse, depending on the quality. A peal of high pitched laughter broke out behind him. “Ajax! You never told me you had taken up common robbery!” Glaukos turned around and immediately averted his eyes. A beautiful woman was standing behind him, her bleached blonde hair arranged in a tendriled bun and lavender chiton draped artfully with two large gold pins. She had been alone. In his own village, no woman that age, obviously married already, would go out without a headcovering, let alone by herself into the night. “I was going to let myself get haggled down, Antiope, don’t be such a marm.”

“I was just worrying about your hide, if Euphenes knew you were making his guests pay to board their horses he would rip you a new one.”

She turned to Glaukos. “New in town? Or are you dinner entertainment, like me?” Was she a flute girl? No, they usually travelled with their master. Maybe she was one of those Athenian hetairas. Glaukos had heard about women, sometimes slaves who earned their freedom by being dinner companions who played instruments and their wits. If she is, then she can’t be too offended by me looking at her bare head. “Um, no despoina, just a [shiled carrier name].” “Despoina! Now that’s a laugh.” Her hazel eyes seemed to sparkle in the stables firelight. “Who would your master be, in that case? Nevermind, you can just point him out for me.” The rings on her fingers bit into Glaukos’s skin as she pulled him through the side entrance. Even through the side entrance, the house looked spectacular to him, the stucco walls in the hallway had the labors of Hercules painted upon them, and the floor was a dark and light checked mosaic pattern. He had seen from the outside that it was a two story house, a kind of luxury not available in his village. “Where are you from, Glaukos?” she asked him.

“From the bay by Olympos on Karpathos.” “Is that by Rhodes? I’ve heard there’s some good swordfish from there.”

“Yes, in the spring sometimes we can get some swordfish, mostly my family goes after bream, they’re wider so you can get some better fish cakes out of them, my father always says.” Oh gods, why are you telling her your father’s fishing tips, what is wrong with you?

“Oh really? I must take you along to advise me, I just adore fish cakes.”

They stepped past the threshold into the andron. The symposium was about to start, a flute girl was testing the reed, a boy with a tambourine gave it a few practice jingles. A slave poured some water into the wine container, a beautiful amphora with a Scythian shooting birds painted on it. Glaukos saw Tydeus and gave him an awkward grin. He stared back expressionless. Crap.

“Antiope! I was worried you weren’t going to make it!” A man with the physique of one of the sculptures outside the house lounged on a kline. You could see all of his muscles and more through his oiled white chiton. Though he was talking with Tydeus like an old friend and had a matching beard, he seemed years younger. “So sorry, I was just conversing with Tydeus son of Medon’s charming boy here about fish cakes.” She flashed a white smile.

“Oh, well, if he can charm the brilliant Antiope, then by all means let him stay, right Tydeus?” The host, Euphenes’s dark eyes had a glint in them. Tydeus gave a tight smile.

“Of course, I wouldn’t want to presume upon your hospitality…”

“Nonsense, the free conversation of the symposium is my greatest joy in these troubled times, and what better way to share it than with young men with a different perspective.” Euphenes gestured to a kline and Glaukos laid down awkwardly. At home, they had just eaten sitting down, since they didn’t have any slaves to serve at their leisure. He prayed he wouldn’t spill anything on himself. More guests began to arrive, both severe, older men with dark beards and younger clean shaven ones.

“I’m glad these troubled times haven’t decreased the size of your parties.” Tydeus said dryly. “Alas, the list of people who can attend has shrunk. I truly miss Podaleirus’s wit and presence. A drink to his memory.” Glaukos saw Tydeus’s face twist for a moment, but he drank deep for the toast.

“In fact, let’s all toast to friends who aren’t here.” The buzz of conversation in the room died down as they all took a toast. He noticed that Antiope had greeted most of the guests, and was now sharing the kline with Euphenes.

“So, Tydeus, you said you saw most of the battle first hand.”

“Yes, it was a river battle like his last skirmish with Memnon of Rhodes. He pinned the Great King between the mountains and the coast so he couldn’t spread his troops and surround him, then he punched a hole through there left wing while his own left held, and all his horse boys scythed straight for the center going for the king. I saw someone go down in that golden chariot, then all hell broke loose.”

“Yes, I got the news that the King is alive, but Alexander has captured his household...and Iphicrates”

“His household?”

“Yes, the noble Persians like to bring their wives and children along instead of just getting camp women like everyone else. Honestly, sometimes you can talk to one and they seem almost normal, and then they pull out something like that that makes you remember why we have the term barbarians!”

“Well in that case it seems Ionia is all but free then, what better ransom for the King’s mother, wife and children could Alexander demand? Imagine, the aims of the Persian wars, finally realized!” a younger man exclaimed. Glaukos found himself in the group voicing their approval. “Zeus Soter, I cannot think of a worse thing than that Macedonian tyrant claiming to have freed Asia.” An older man besides Euphenes groused.

“Wouldn’t it be worse if Ionia was not freed at all?” Glaukos said, annoyed at the timidity in his voice.

“No, because now their grain prices will be fluctuating like the waves in autumn, while my warehouse is sitting bare!” Glaukos was shocked, he’d never thought about something like grain prices driving politics.

“That and the disgusting hypocrisy of it all! Patting Athens and Sparta on the head, telling them Macedon is the real saviour of the Hellenes! All while keeping men like my son in their regiments as hostages.”

“Yes Phokas, we know all about your son.”

“So what are we going to do?”

“Not much we can do, if what Tydeus says is true. Unless you have an idea, friend?” Euphenes turned to him.

“I captured a noble Persian, hoping he would have some family that could help. Looks like most of it was killed in the battle, and that the civil situation in Persia is worse than we’d feared.”

“What’s bad for Persia could be good for us. He can’t stretch his army out forever, if he goes deeper into Persia, then we’ll only have to deal with Antipater and the garrison. And who knows, maybe he’ll bite off more than he can chew and die in some ditch in Bactria?”

Euphenes sighed, “So as usual, our prescribed course is patience and waiting. Well at least I have you all to while away the time with.”

From there the symposium became a true drinking party. They played [throw the lees] and Glaukos missed spectacularly. Probably because he had had too much to drink, but he’d never had such sweet wine. As the party was ending, everyone started to rise shakily from their klines, and Glaukos followed suite. “Where are you off to?” asked their host, “You and Tydeus will be staying here in my home of course! I insist.” Glaukos stammered his thanks.

Euphenes walked up to him and spoke in a lower tone, “I am so glad that Tydeus has found someone else, he has been so torn up after Podaleirus died…” Wait, does he mean it that way? He’d heard in Crete two men would love each other like man and wife, and also some places like the mainland, but never in his village. “Um, I don’t really know what you mean…”

“Oh, sorry, I just thought a handsome boy like you…”

“I’m just, uh, assisting him.” “Of course.” He gave Glaukos a condescending smile. It crossed his mind that maybe running off with a man he knew nothing about hadn’t been the best plan. I really hope that’s not what he was thinking about when he said yes to me…

 Later, they were laying in the same room in the dark, Tydeus on the bed and Glaukos on a palette he had discreetly moved to the furthest corner of the room. “So, did you hear anything interesting?”

“Just what you heard. Though I didn’t think that people would be so concerned about grain prices…”

“Grain makes the wheels of the world run. You can’t eat gold after all.”

“I did notice, that you looked angry when that man suggested we just wait and let Alexander the Macedonian take Persia.”

“These Athenians care about the welfare of their city, but I don’t have a city to care about anymore. They just want Alexander far away, but I want him close, so I can see an end to him.”

“... Is it true, that all the Thebans were sold as slaves?”

“Yes, but Alkyone and I fled… her father was one of the Boeotarchs, the leaders of Thebes and their rebellion. So Alexander couldn’t afford to have someone like Alkyone alive, because if someone married her he would have the legitimacy to take up the cause again, you see?”

“Uh… sort of. But even if he did that, maybe we should wait until he frees Ionia? So at least something good can come from the bad?”

Tydeus snorted “I don’t give a fuck about Ionia.”

Glaukos hadn’t heard him talk like that before. “Well I do! It seems like you nobles only care about yourselves and your storehouses.”

There was a long pause. “My father was born a slave, you know.” Glaukos didn’t say anything. He had known only one slave in his life, the village’s head man owned him, but he just helped out on his farm, and hadn’t seemed too different from Glaukos and his family.

“He was freed before I was born, but he was a farm slave. Normally a man like me and the aristos in that room would never even speak, but when I was young, Podaleirus, Alkyone’s father, got injured while hunting and they took him to our cottage outside of the walls of Thebes for help. He was only there for one night but he said we were guest friends now. I never expected to see him again, but after he had recovered he came to visit. From there we became friends, and he would take me around town.” Glaukos felt some discomfort at having such a personal tale revealed to him, but curiosity won out and he said nothing.

“We raced a lot. When the Olympic games were called, we both went for an event. It was around that time the Sacred Band was formed, and we were chosen since we had won our events. Those were the glory days of Thebes, fighting under Epamonidas, defeating the Spartans! At his side, I became someone important, not just the son of a freed slave.” There was a pause again.

“Podaleirus gave me everything, just because I’d given him my cloak to lay on when he hurt himself hunting boar as a boy. And the Macedonians killed him, speared him in the back. How can I call myself a man if I don’t get revenge for him? How would the furies ever leave me?” he sighed.

“It’s true, I’m selfish. I just want to kill Alexander for ruining my life and then go crawl in a hole somewhere. That’s what you’ve signed up for. If you want to go back to Karpathos, I’ll drop you off on the way to Rhodes.”

Glaukos stared at the ceiling in the dark. How could this man make an epic quest for vengeance sound so depressing? “So you didn’t take me along because you wanted… um… Euphenes said…”

“Did he suggest something to you? For someone who claims to have the blood of the Alcimonids he sure is classless. No!”

“Oh in that case… will you teach me to fight? Then I’ll stay on.”

 The whole voyage to the Piraeus had been a marvel for Glaukos. He’d sat alongside professional rowers, sampled some of the vintages in the cargo hold, and had listened to the captain talk about naval stories he could have only dreamed about a few days ago. Every word out of his mouth had been some sort of question. As they were unloading onto the dock, saying good-bye to the sailors he felt fast friends with, he had some more for Tydeus.

 “Why did you bring the horse?” Piling the leggy creature onto the boat had been a feat in itself, though it didn’t try to launch itself into the sea like Glaukos had feared. “I learned a long time ago from an old Persian, people take you a lot more seriously when you’re on top of a big horse.” Xanthe seemed happy to be on dry land, judging from her swishing tail. Or maybe she just had to poop again.

“Also I didn’t want to walk from the Piraeus to Athens again. She should be able to hold both of us for that short ride.” he casually vaulted onto the saddle. “Get on.” Glaukos looked at the horse. In his hamlet, only the richest man in town had a horse, and that one looked more like a large dog compared to this Persian beast. So although Glaukos had groomed a horse a few times, he’d never actually ridden one, much less jumped onto one’s back. “Yeah sure, let me just…” He tried to get his leg over its back, but he could only get up to the calf and had no leverage. “Never ridden a horse before?” Tydeus sighed, “I really should have seen that coming.” He turned around and pulled him on.

 “Just hold onto my belt, and don’t just sit flat or you’ll be in a world of hurt.” What other way is there to sit? Xanthe started moving right after Tydeus gave her reins a snap. She didn’t even walk, just moved straight to a high-kneed trot. Doesn’t hurt at all, it’s smoother than a boat ride! Tydeus whistled. “Well would you look at that, here I was thinking Persians just trained their horses to lift their knees like that for show! Instead they’ve got them giving rides smoother than butter.” “How do you know so much about Persians?” asked Glaukos. Secretly, he had been worrying that Tydeus had been some sort of mercenary for the Great King. “I was in the interior of Ionia with my friend, Alkyone’s father. His father had some shipping interests there, and well, you can’t really get along there unless you know Persian. And there may have been some political interests there, too.”

“So you weren’t exiled for being a mercenary?”

“Perish the thought. I’m exiled because every Theban is an exile now.” Glaukos gasped. He had heard about the destruction of the city of Thebes. Even in his sleepy village there had been arguments, that Thebes was one of the most ancient cities of the Hellenes, but it had aided the Persians during the previous wars and couldn’t be trusted. No wonder they had had “political interests.”

“So you’re--”

“Now that we’re nearing the city I’d rather not talk about such sensitive topics. Your job is to pack away my things and keep your ears open for, the mood of the city, threats… anything that seems important.” He took out a discrete pouch, Glaukos held back a gasp when he opened it. There were dozens more plaques and some gold Darics. He felt a bit resentful, compared to all this, what Tydeus had given his father was a pittance.

“This should be enough if you feel the need to grease anyone’s palm” Tydeus counted out three of the gold coins, stamped with a golden profile and narrow wedges of the Persian alphabet. “I’ll be going through the front of the house, you’ll have to go out back with the horse.”

---

It feels so good to be back in a civilized place, Alkyone reflected as a cosmetic slave put the finishing touches on her hair. After a bone deep warm bath and massage, she felt alive again. They had taken Marduniya to a separate part of the house, obviously he couldn’t be allowed in the women’s quarters. She found herself hoping the Persian was being treated well, almost dying twice in a fortnight was something to be pitied.

She hadn’t met with her host yet, but she was invited to the beginning of his dinner. Usually men and women dining together would be a breach of etiquette, but it was the feast of [idk]. A translucent scarlet cochineal veil was pinned in place over her bun, so that the color mingled with her bright yellow crocus dyed chiton. Sandals with gilding on the edges provided the finishing touch.

She allowed herself to be led through the narrow hallway to the lush courtyard. The klines had been arranged around an eel pond with white egrets stalking amongst them. She could see Nothon sharing a kline with the man who she presumed was Lethos, a woman seated by herself and another man opposite them. Hadn’t Tydeus called him a thug in Tyrian purple? The man was squat, with the kind of lumpy swollen ears you would find on a boxer. And he had on a white robe with wide purple stripes. He leaned forward as he saw her approaching, “Nothon, please introduce us to this sweet dove you’ve had the good fortune to travel with!”

“Lethos, Alketas, Phanessa, this is dear Alkyone, who has so patiently and good-naturedly persevered with the terrible hand dealt to her by exile.” His speech has really shaped up in front of “the boss.” The woman, Phanessa, smiled, “I’m so happy to be the one to tell you that you can make your home here, my dear.”

“You have already been so kind to me, Despoina, I cannot thank you enough,” Alkyone inclined her head.

“The pleasure is ours, Alkyone, daughter of Podaleirus. The families of great patriots should not be allowed to be cast out by the tyrannical regime.” said Lethos, lifting his arm in a magnanimous gesture.

“Now please, if you would share a kline with my wife and drink with us.” Usually ladies of good stature would leave just before the first drinks were served, but Alkyone had heard that those kinds of things were looser the further you got from the mainland. She climbed onto the kline, and Phanessa gave her a motherly squeeze on the shoulder. A large, tattooed Thracian appeared to hand her a full cup. She was surprised, men like that were usually sent to work in mines, or at their most domestic worked as stable grooms, not household staff due to their dangerous nature. This one seemed demure enough though, his eyes were downcast but he didn’t spill a drop. “To the continued health of Alkyone Podaleirid and democracy,” Lethos raised his cup.

“Also, might I add, to the continued good health of Tydeus son of Medon” Alkyone raised hers in turn. “Of course!” Alkyone took a deep sip. Oh my, some eastern vintage, and unwatered at that! Perhaps this wasn’t civilized country after all. The other man, Alketas, still hadn’t spoken, but she didn’t want to appear too forward by addressing him, but Lethos spoke to him next. “It seems King Alexander has, if inadvertently, struck a blow for democracy by freeing Sardis, now that he has defeated the Great King at Issus, who knows what will happen.”

“I doubt very much it was inadvertent, he has said from the first that he wishes to free the Greek cities of Asia from barbaric despotism.” Alketas had a smooth voice, but what he was saying struck Alkyone as unpleasant.

“Ironic that he should make such a claim after putting the Greek cities of Greece under fear of destruction unless they submit to him,” Alkyone sniffed. Usually she wouldn’t have been so forward, but she felt safe in the present company… it also could have been the wine. It was truly excellent, she took another sip. Alketas looked at her with cold blue eyes, “Alas, but did not Thebes fight against Ionian independence in the Persian Wars? If the King of the Macedonians wants to right the wrongs of that time, perhaps his strategy was part of that.”

“Oh, well how should Macedon be punished under his grand plan, did they not send a contingent to fight with the Great King as their loyal vassals?” Alkyone shot back and took another draught to punctuate her point. It was definitely the wine.

“What gives Macedonians the right to be saviours of the Hellenes? They were just some hill tribe, basically Illyrians until that King Philip was educated in Thebes. And even so he still had 7 wives like a barbarian.” Alketas’s nostrils flared, but his voice stayed cold and smooth, “The Macedonians are as Hellene as you or I. Hercules fathered their line of kings.”

“Didn’t he father the Scythian tribes as well? I don’t hear anyone calling them our fellow Hellenes. He even left those sons a belt and a bow, maybe he thought them more legitimate.”

“I see you are still distraught over the regrettable loss of Thebes.” He looked down his nose at her.