Authors: Gene Wolfe
Thamyris spoke as if he had not heard him. "We Thracians could be masters of the world. Do you know that?"
I said, "I'm sure you breed many valiant men."
"None but the Indians are more numerous"—he leaned toward me—"none but the Rope Makers more warlike. Were we united—as we shall be—no nation on earth could resist us!"
Hypereides said quickly, "But you'll need allies, Thamyris. What you have here is cavalry and light infantry. It's good, I know. It's very good. But you're going to need heavy infantry, too, and a navy. Now the best phalanxes are the Rope Makers', as everybody knows. And the best ships are ours, as we proved at Peace."
Thamyris leaned back as old men do, staring at the smoke-blackened ceiling. At last he sighed. "You are still here. I shall have you gutted with your own weapon as soon as Deloptes returns with it. Disemboweled by Pleistorus, if I can arrange that, and I imagine I can." He rose with these words and came down from the throne to stand before me.
"You are reputed to be overlord of every battlefield. You are not. After so many years, I—we—have found him." Briefly, fingers like claws caressed my jaw below the cheekpieces of my helmet, before coming to rest upon my shoulders. "If you were what you say, you would slay this foreigner for me with his own sword, the moment that it was brought to your hand. You know
he
would, but you do not know I know it. Learn that I do."
He seemed strange to me—not like a man, but rather a doll manipulated by another. I said, "Very well, I am the master of all battlefields, if you say it. In the person of that master, I tell you no strategist worthy of his command kills those who might readily be brought to fight for him."
That was all Thamyris said and all I said, because at that moment the wide door at the head of the megaron was thrown back. A peltast ran in and knelt to him, still grasping his javelins; he spoke in a tongue I do not understand, and Thamyris replied in the same way.
The peltast objected, and indicated the door through which he had come, expostulating. He was somewhat younger than I, and I could see that though he did not wish to disagree with the old man, he felt he must.
Thamyris shouted at him; then Nessibur spoke, stepping down from the dais. There came a guttural grunt from the shadows, at which Thamyris trembled, though he did not seem to know it. He called loudly and clapped his hands, and half a dozen well-armed men filed in to stand at either side of him. Nessibur left with the young peltast, I suppose to arrange whatever difficulty had brought him.
Just then Deloptes returned, carrying Hypereides's sword, a bag of coins, and some other things. Hypereides tied the bag to his belt by the thongs and slung his sword about his neck in the fashion of the Hellenes, who seldom wear the sword at the belt.
"Your master is at our gate," Thamyris informed Hypereides. "Nessibur will admit him; and if you die before his eyes as a man ought to, you will have the satisfaction of showing him that his nation is not alone in its boasted courage."
"And if I live," Hypereides replied, "I shall show that mine is without peer-—as it is—in overcoming adversity."
Thamyris turned to me. "Take his sword, Pleistorus, and take his life. Or lose your own."
I exclaimed,
"It's a boar!"
I did not intend to speak thus aloud, but the words escaped my lips before I could shut them in. Although Hypereides stared at me as if I had suddenly gone mad, what had actually happened was that I had at last identified the pervasive odor underlying the smoke of the megaron: it was not the stench of a pigsty but a deeper, harsher smell, ripe with musk—the smell a hunter may catch when one of those great brutes is brought to bay.
TWENTY-FIVE
Farewell to Thrace
IO CALLED ME AFT TO watch its coastline vanish behind us. When I told her I had been writing, she wanted me to return to it at once; but I stayed with her until nothing could be seen save the wake of our ship and the gray sea. It is winter and the season for storms, the kybernetes says; but I do not think we will have one today. The sun rose in bright gold at dawn; and though the wind is chill, it serves us well, and the sun is golden still.
As soon as I had placed the boar's scent (so I was upon the point of writing when Io called to me) I could also make out the beast itself, huge and black as night, where it lay in the dusky area behind the dais; its chin rested flat upon the stone floor, but it watched our every movement with eyes that shone as red as embers.
When I said I smelled a boar, several of the men protecting Thamyris spoke; and though I could not understand their words, I sensed that they had understood mine.
"Is it chained?" I asked. "They can be dangerous."
If he replied, I did not hear him. I went to examine the boar more closely, and the Thracians who had come at his order stepped aside to let me pass.
The boar rose as I approached it, and I saw at once that it was not chained. For an instant its eyes left me for Thamyris, and he shouted an order. My attention was upon the boar, not on him or the men beside him; but I spun about when I heard a sword drawn. Hypereides had pinned the Thracian's arm—another's hand was on his hilt.
I cast both javelins, and the distance was so short that I could not miss. If the remaining four had come at us as one, we would have been killed immediately; as it was, I had to shelter Hypereides with my shield as much as I dared, for he had none of his own. We were driven back, as was to be expected; but to be driven back from the place where we were, was to be driven toward the boar.
"Run!"
I told him, and together we fled along the wall of the megaron, for I hoped to put the boar between our attackers and ourselves. It turned toward us, as I had feared it would. Falcata stabbed deep—but in the side of the neck, not over the eyes as I had intended; and for that bad thrust we might have died.
We lived instead, as Hypereides had foretold. The enormous boar recoiled from my blade, scattering the remaining Thracians like so many birds and opening one from groin to throat with its fearsome tusks. (Its shoulders were higher than theirs—this I saw.) Thamyris drew his sword and rushed upon us like a madman, and Hypereides ducked beneath his cut to kill him.
What would have happened next had we, the three remaining Thracians, and the boar remained pent in the megaron, I cannot say; the great door opened once again, and through it dashed a pack of piebald hounds. For an instant, they foamed like the sea about the boar, so that it seemed to me they would surely drag it down and tear it to bits; but it shook them aside and fled through the open door. Outside I heard the shouts and shrieks of those in the courtyard, and the baying of the hounds.
Then boar and hounds were gone.
Of the rest of the battle I write but a little, for though many a wound must still bleed, all I recall of it is scattered and confused. Acetes had come, and (so he explained to us a few moments ago) had persuaded Nessibur to admit his shieldmen and Hegesistratus, Oeobazus, and the black man, as well as himself; but before he had called for a truce and advanced to the wall, he had given a pledge to the Thracians besieging the palace that he would open its gates for them if he could. He did this, as he himself conceded, upon the advice of Hegesistratus, who had pointed out to him that he could not lose by it, for he need not unbar the gates unless he wished the aid of the Thracians outside them.
It would seem that when the boar dashed into the courtyard, someone there—whether a Thracian or a Hellene no one can say—threw wide both gates, perhaps merely in the hope that it would run out; at this the Thracians outside rushed in, believing that Acetes had fulfilled his pledge.
Nessibur is dead, they say, and with him all who sided with Thamyris except a few peltasts. With much gold, Acetes received the daughter of a noble Thracian, who offered to buy a girl from him in addition. The gold has been divided, the greater portion among our crew, but much also to Hypereides, Hegesistratus, the kybernetes, Oeobazus, the black man, and me. Mine I have hidden in my chest. Some was in coins of many sorts, most in ornaments, rings, buckles, and the like; thus the division was by weight.
We might have had much more gold, I think, had we remained in Thrace; but all of us were eager to go. It was for Oeobazus that we came, Io says, and we have him. We sailed in such hurry that many useful articles were left behind. In justice to Io, I must add that I do not think anything can have been left by her. She brought a sword she says the Amazons gave her, a sling Polos made for her, my clothing as well as her own, this scroll and my old one, and other things. I still have the helmet I took from the palace, though my shield was so deeply cut I left it behind.
I was talking to Polos, who asked many questions about the boar; all the Hellenes have been chattering about it. I brought him to Hegesistratus, who told us that in Thracian art a boar is the foe of Pleistorus; this foe is called Zalmoxis, and is often shown as a bear instead. Hegesistratus and Polos say Pleistorus is the god to whom Oeobazus was to be sacrificed. Hegesistratus could not explain why Thamyris had a boar in the megaron, except by saying what everyone says: that besieged men are unlikely to turn out any animal that can be eaten at need.
Polos wanted to know whether Hegesistratus had seen the boar, and whether it was as big as everyone is saying. "I did," Hegesistratus told him, "and it was as large as they are saying now. However, it was not as large as they will say it was when we reach Thought."
I think that a very good answer indeed.
Perhaps I should not trouble myself with such trivialities, but I have nothing better to do than write, though some of our crew are bailing or shifting the supplies in the hold to better the trim of the ship. Thus I will set down that we who were in the battle at the palace are the envy of the rest. Hypereides has told the four sailors to whom Acetes gave helmets, hoplons, and breastplates that they may keep them as the reward of their valor. These represent a great deal of money, but Acetes told Cleton we would pay for—rather than return—them. Hypereides plans to bill the priests on the high city for the full amount; because he is bringing Oeobazus, they will not refuse him.
After I wrote last I went privately to Hegesistratus to ask him about the hounds; it puzzled me that no one mentions them. He said he did not see them; he heard their baying, but thought himself the only one who had. I assured him I had heard them, and seen them. He says they are Cynthia's; she is a goddess to whom both of us are indebted. He was fervent in her praises—even more so when I described to him how her hounds had chivied the boar.
Elata challenged us to swim, though the sea looks so cold. (This is the one these Hellenes call the Water.) The kybernetes had a sailor tie a long line to the sternpost, letting it trail after the ship so that swimmers could catch hold of it, should it appear they might be left behind. When Hegesistratus took off his clothing, I saw that he had been wounded several times, some very fresh; he says he received those when he and I fought alongside the Amazons. (Io says these women gave her the sword. It seems very strange to me that women should also be soldiers.)
Hegesistratus pointed to the oldest wound and asked whether I remembered it. When I admitted I did not, he told me that he received it from an assassin in Sestos. I cannot recall Sestos, though I know that there is such a city on Helle's Sea.
Everyone stared at Elata when she took off her gown. She did not seem to mind, but soon grew chilled and dove into the sea; Hegesistratus untied the thongs that hold his wooden foot and dove after her. They called for me to join them, but I do not think Hegesistratus truly wished it; though no one swam with them, they swam together for a long time. When they returned to the ship, they sat very close together and wrapped themselves in both their cloaks, saying that though the sea is cold, the wind is colder.
The kybernetes says that this island is Sign-of-Thrace; it is called so because it is a day's sail from the Thracian coast. Everyone says we have been in Thrace, though I cannot recall that either. Io tells me I have written much about it in this book.
There are fine ports on this island, Hypereides says, but this is only a fishing village. We do not wish to dock at one of the ports because no one knows whether these Hellenes remain loyal to the Empire; here we count two men for each villager. Besides, these poor people care nothing for the Empire, and it nothing for them. Hypereides, Io, and I are going to sleep here tonight; this is the largest house in the village. It is good we have a house to sleep in. We would be very uncomfortable, I think, if we slept outside, even if we slept around a fire built in a sheltered spot.
As things are, we have been roasting fresh thrushes, which is very pleasant. Kroxinas, whose house this is, netted them a few days before; his wife plucks them for us, and we roast them on green sticks.
Kroxinas has as many questions as Polos, it seems, but he asks them mostly with his eyes. When he can no longer hold one back, he asks Io. Hypereides answers, usually. Kroxinas asked what had brought our ship to Thrace so late in the season, and Hypereides told him we came to set the son of King Kotys firmly upon the throne of Apsinthia.
Kroxinas had heard of Kotys, but had not known he was dead. (All this was greatly complicated by the fact that Kotys' son is named for his father.) Hypereides said that now that the Empire is crumbling, it is the task of Thought to bring the rule of law to the islands of the Water and the lands along its coasts. His talk has made me think that the Great King must need me now more than ever.
Io added, "There was a big battle—my master and Hypereides were right in the thick of it."
Kroxinas and his wife were as eager to hear about it as I, and Hypereides obliged us. I will set down here only the meat of what he said, omitting a good deal.
"After King Kotys was murdered by his nobles, his mother's brother, Thamyris, tried to take the throne. He was getting on in years and had been chief adviser to his nephew—a good one, from all I heard—but now he wanted to be king himself. We had been patrolling Helle's Sea against the Great King, but as soon as Xanthippos got word of it, he sent us off to Apsinthia right away. The Thracians are afraid of the Rope Makers; so since we didn't have any with us, I bought a scarlet cloak for Acetes in Sestos. When we got to Thrace, he pretended he was a strategist from Rope and the rest of us were allies and auxiliaries from their league. That got the nobles supporting the prince on our side pretty quickly, and I was able to find out what was going on, even though the whole situation was still badly confused at that point.