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Chapter 9... extra long and action packed!

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.

The large group of horses got to the turn-off where the bulk of the crowd was standing, and Marduniya turned his stallion to cut off the others. There was a fence of wooden posts covered in cloth to separate the spectators from the horse race. As far as the horses were concerned, the red cloth was an impassable barrier. But after making him hop some logs with his cloak draped over them, Marduniya prayed his horse would jump when he wanted it to. Running at an angle between the wall and the other horses, the beast saw it had no choice but to jump. Some shrieking onlookers threw themselves backwards before he landed. Unfortunately, this horse was not as well trained as his old storm-gray, who would kick at a spoken command, but Marduniya leaned back onto the horses back until it was so uncomfortable that it kicked to right itself. The cloth ripped apart, and he reined in his stallion so that it reared and gave a commanding neigh. Follow me, ladies! So Marduniya gave his sides a kick, and they galloped up the stadium aisle, followed by 10 other riderless horses going varying speeds causing absolute pandemonium. Horses wouldn’t trample people on their own, Marduniya knew from watching the extensive training of war horses, but having the huge animals canter up close would terrify the rural people who weren’t used to it, whose screaming would only make the horses more antsy. They ran up the stadium seats, and up the hill, like a dam breaking, and soon the tents at the top of the hill were starting to topple. There’s my cue to get out of here, hope that was enough of a “distraction” for you. Although Alkyone had given him a good plan back at the house latrine, this part had been sort of a sketchy outline. He could see out of the corner of his eye that his Getae friend had won the race, but no one was paying attention. Some guards were starting to push people out of the way to get to him, but he was riding a racehorse, while they were on foot. He turned his horse and set off towards the harbor.

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