Dangerous Secrets (110 page)

The fisherman transferred some of his gratitude
to me when I plucked out the old mast and stepped the new one into the braces
under the deck. This saved us all the bother of rigging winches and tackles to
swing it down off the cliff. I don’t deny the tree was heavy but ever since my
meeting with Aphrodite, I had an unusual amount of energy. I only hoped it
would last until Troezen.

After a little more work, the boat was ready to
sail. They agreed to take us back to Mykonos where we’d find another ship to
travel onward. How we were going to pay for it was in the lap of the Gods, one
in particular. The wind filled the sail as soon as the tide lifted us off the
sandbar. It blew without change or pause in the right direction.

In exchange for our passage, Phandros decided
to teach the boy, Milos, to write his own name and that of his father. As there
was nothing to drink on board, it helped to pass the time. The boy, about
twelve, went from being a shy, frightened youth to one always underfoot,
artlessly confiding. When he completed his name for the first time, he crowed.

“Clever boy,” I said, applauding.

“Not clever enough,” his father said. “The
wisest man avoids troubles. He seems to want to hunt it out and embrace it.
It’s the excitement, I suppose.”

“Sometimes even the wisest man finds trouble on
his doorstep and cannot step around,” Phandros said. “Then there is my friend,
who goes to find other people’s troubles.”

“And gets paid for it,” I added.

“Where is your fee from your last job?” he
asked, grinning.

“You have work in Mykonos?” the captain asked.

“Beyond that. Why?”

“Only that I can feel you pushing this little
Cythereia
of mine all the time. We have
a wind that a home-bound sailor dreams of and yet you are urging her onwards as
though a moment’s delay is unbearable. I wondered if it was work. If not, it
must be a woman.”

“We’ll be there soon?”

“You will see the island before the sun sets
tonight.”

He was as good as his word. This time, though,
I watched the shore growing closer from the safety of the waist. Not least
among my grievances against Jori was the unfair way he′d jerked me
overboard by merely turning the tiller.

Phandros joined me there. “Have we lost too
much time, do you think?”

“Less than we would have lost if we’d had to
build our own damn boat.”

“True. There was one thing I wanted to
say...you do know it’s just a bird, right? The harpy. If it were a woman, I
would understand your anxiety. But this is like running into a burning building
to save an almond.”

“You don’t have to come along.”

“No, I don’t. But I probably will.”

I turned around, leaning my elbows on the
railing. “Why are you here, Phandros? Why did you leave your comfy place at
King Temas’ right hand to follow me?”

With a grimace, he acknowledged the justice of
my question. “Orders, I suppose, is as good a word as any.”

“Temas gave you orders?”

“I wish. No, it was a dream.”

“Oh, yeah, I know about dreams.”

“In this one, I was walking along the road to
Athens. I’ve only been there once, when I was quite young, but I recognized it
by the hermai marking the miles.” He scratched his beard. “You have lived there
for some time, I think. Why are they carved only with Hermes’ head and
genitals? Why not the whole body?”

“I don’t know. Budget cuts?”

He laughed shortly. “Anyway, there I was
trudging along when one of them spoke to me. I did not stop. I could not. Then
the next one spoke, taking up the words where the other one had left off. And
the next, and the next.”

“What did they say?”

Phandros hesitated, his eyes shifting. “Much of
it was unclear or referred to the past. But what I do remember most clearly was
the god telling me to turn around and go with you. As soon as I turned, the
voices stopped. But each of them nodded approvingly as I passed. It was
creepy.” He sighed. “After that, what else could I do?”

“We are puppets in their hands...sometimes.”

“Then it is for the Gods that you are seeking
this harpy?”

“No, that’s a side issue. I’m seeking her
because I betrayed her. She trusted me and I used her trust to capture her,
knowing that once I sold her to King Pavlos she would die. That is not
something I want to live with forever. So I’m going to redeem my honor.”

“Oh, then I understand. I still think it’s a
little fanciful. Well, who cares what I think?″

‶
You have a point,″ I
conceded.
‶
It
does seem like folly even to me. But you aren′t the only one under
orders.″

‶
Oh?″ One eyebrow crawled
high.

‶
You are a learned man. What do
you know about the Goddess of Discord?″

‶
Eris?″ He gazed off at
the white buildings of the island, just now visible above the sea.
‶
She
is popularly considered to be a daughter of the Void for she is certainly not
known to be an Olympian. Some say she is a daughter or a sister of Ares but I
believe that is a mistranslation of an ancient oracles′ prophecy. We
know, however, that she came from the time before Kronos was destroyed by the
Father of the Gods. She delights in conflict and quarrels.″

‶
She said something about
that.″

‶
She? Who?″

‶
A goddess I met on
Telemenos.″

Phandros took a step back as though unsure
whether to flee from a madman′s ravings.
‶
Which goddess?″

‶
Never mind. I′ll tell you
instead what happened in the Temple of Artemis on Leros.″

He fell to stroking his beard and, at the end
of my recital, including my chat with Eurytos, pursed his lips thoughtfully.
‶
You
say she talked about opening some gates?″

‶
You′d think I′d
remember a bit more clearly what a three-faced thirty-foot tall woman said but
I was a little freaked out at the time.″

‶
Justifiably, I′d
say.″

‶
Thanks.″

‶
There is much food for thought.
I don′t believe Eris is the spirit that moved that statue, or appeared to
speak through the dead. The tossing of a Golden Apple or the stirring up of
unease between lovers, yes, that she might do and often has. But this is plots
and plans and a desire to rule the Earth.″

‶
Someone put Eris up to it,
someone with an interest in causing as much death and destruction as
possible,″ I said.
‶
If it were Hades....″

‶
Hades has power enough
surely.″

‶
One would think. And generals
enough at his command. He doesn′t need to recruit me. Besides, Eurytos
spoke of a Dark Queen, a
‵
She′.″

‶
She...I have heard much evil of
the Queen of Troezan but a queen cannot command a goddess to do her bidding.
Not without coming to a sticky end.″

I stared down into the jewel-bright sea,
watching some fish jump through our bow wave. So many mysteries in this world,
some from the Gods, some of men, some that belonged to neither of us. I sighed
and turned to speak my thought to Phandros. But his eyes were closed and his
lips moved as though in earnest prayer. As though he felt my scrutiny, he
glanced at me and said,
‶
Did she say
‵
gates′ or
‵
doors′,
this evil thing in the temple?″

‶
Doors, I think.″

‶
Doors.″ He closed his
eyes again, mumbling. I thought of the shell-game hucksters in the marketplace,
swiftly shifting shells from hand to hand, daring passersby to risk a coin or
two on where a pea was hidden. Phandros′ thoughts must move like the
blurring hands of a games-man.

‶
Seventeen...chaos...army...darkness.
Hades but not Hades....″ His voice was low, muffled, like a man talking
in his sleep. Then he began to repeat the names of cities, starting with Leros
and Troezan. Halfway through, he was watching me. I blinked when he said,
‶
Hattusa....″

‶
That′s Hittite,″ I
said.

‶
Still, there is a gate to the
Underworld there. You seem to know the name.″

‶
A friend of mine -- well,
we′re in the same line of work -- told me that he′d been hired to
take care of a monster by the local king. Some kind of a lava-beast which is
strange as I never heard there was a volcano around there.″

‶
Any other cities having those
kind of problems?″

‶
Always. But they seem more
numerous nowadays.″

‶
Discord taken to a greater
scale. That fits.″ He shut his eyes again and kept them closed until the
fisherman came forward to tell us we′d be berthing before long.

Phandros thanked him then turned to me. A frown
carved deep lines between his brows.
‶
How strong are you really,
Eno?″

‶
Strong enough.″

‶
Oh, I know you can lift things
and fight things and can carry the weight of the world if need be. But how
strong are you in yourself?″

‶
I don′t
understand,″ I said, waiting for the punchline.

‶
I wish I did as well. What do
you think would happen if all seventeen gates to Hades were opened, from the
inside?″

‶
Hell on Earth? But that
can′t happen. Can it?″

‶
I hope not. But think of what
you have told me. You are not a madman and therefore I must accept what you
have said though it frightens me, frightens me badly.″

‶
Me too.″

‶
You say that, but I know you
are jesting. This
‵
She′ will not kill you so long as she thinks
you could become her creature. But what use would such a one have for me? Or
any of the weak things of this earth.″

‶
What do you know?″ I
asked.
‶
What
do you suspect?″

Despite the heat of the day, he shivered.
‶
Terrors
beyond what you have already seen. Names I dare not pronounce. Add what you
have said to what I have witnessed on Leros...no. No, I cannot say more now. I
will study upon these things.″

I could see he would not say more than he
thought wise. I wished I had studied more of these matters but there was always
a living to earn which left little time for anything beyond practical matters.
‶
Don′t
take too long. I can′t fight what I don′t understand.″

He nodded gravely.
‶
I will help you all
I can. But, as a learned man, I must warn you, Eno. When the Gods take this
much interest in a mortal, it usually ends badly for the mortal.”

Chapter 14

Milos had been sorry to see us go but I
surprised a trace of relief on his father’s face. In his first, teary-eyed
gratitude, he’d promised a lot and now felt quite relieved that we weren’t
demanding he follow through. I didn’t want all his possessions and certainly not
his first-born son.

We had further proof, if any was needed, of the
Goddess’ interest before we’d gone fifty feet past the pier. Mykonos is in a
very useful spot, halfway between Troy and the main body of Greece. Since the
war began, it had gone from being a small port to a big one. Building went on
all day and well into the night. Ships from every corner of the world stopped
there now, bringing useful goods, exotic wonders, pilgrims, and the businessmen
who made fortunes from all these things.

“Phandros? Phandros, by all that’s holy!”

A man, large even by my standards, had Phandros
by the shoulders, gazing into his face with wonder. Before Phandros could
react, the stranger threw his arms around him and lifted him clear off the
ground. Heedless of grinning passersby, Phandros kicked his feet like an
infant.

“Skander?” he squeezed out.

“Look at you!” the stranger exclaimed. “Still
skinny as a beanpole!” He slapped his own generous belly. “Can’t say the same
of me, what ho?”

“I can’t believe it’s you, not at all.” There
were tears in Phandros’ eyes and not just from having the breath pressed out of
his body.

“They do say if you wait on the Mykonosian
docks long enough, you’ll see everyone you ever knew. And here you are!”

“But what are you doing here, Skander?”

The big man waved a plump hand, adorned by
several heavy golden rings, in the direction of the docks. “I own those ships
and others besides. I’ve rented half a dozen penteconters to the...but hush for
that!”

He put his hands on wide hips and laughed, his belly
shaking under his long chiton, a chlamys of deep maroon dye tossed over his
shoulder. His hair, longer in the back than in the front, was confined by a
golden fillet and, even from several feet away, I could smell the expensive
musk he used to perfume it. A black ring-beard hedged his full face, accented
by straight brows and small, sharp eyes that contrasted with his florid
personality.

Phandros was almost too dazed to introduce me.
Skander looked me up and down. “I’ve heard of you! Didn’t you do some work for
Scambos of Olympia not too long ago?”

“Yes, I recovered an ivory throne that he was
having made for Pharaoh Ramses.”

“Forgive me! I always check such things. You
wouldn’t credit the number of times someone has lied to me. Er, well, perhaps
you would. Anyway, he spoke very highly of you...when we were still speaking,
that is. Had a little falling out over a cargo of vinegar. Soured our
relations!”

Skander of Mykonos is the only man I ever met
who laughed “ho, ho, ho.”

Nothing would content him but that we accompany
him to his villa, sitting upon a hillside overlooking the shipping lanes.
Skander made room in his litter for Phandros. I glanced at his bearers, sturdy
fellows, and declared that I preferred to walk.

“After being cooped up on a small boat, I’d
like the chance to get in a little exercise.”

The bearers rolled thankful eyes toward heaven.
Skander laughed. “Been on a boat, have you? Better you than me.”

“But you own ships,” Phandros said.

“Own, yes. Visit, certainly. Travel on, never!
Mykonos is world enough for me. Anyone wants to talk to me comes to me. Enough
about all that! Tell me, my old friend, what brings you to this island?”

From Skander’s manner, I would have guessed
he’d let Phandros get out half a dozen words before interrupting with some tale
of his own. In this, I misjudged him. He drew out Phandros and listened his
halting catalog of positions gained and lost, wanderings, refuges and
departures as though ten thousand gold minae depended on his complete
attention.

“Well, I can see why you are so thin; you must
never sit down! Not fear of that now, though. Not as my guest!”

Compared to the villa of Skandar, the Palace at
Leros was a hut for the winter forage of goats.

A butler so proud one would think he was a
master, not a slave, showed us to a large, airy chamber with a view of the sea.
The walls were fresco’d with beautiful images of nymphs of the sea playing some
game with a large yellow ball. I was pretty sure it was an allegory with a
dense, religious meaning. I turned to Phandros, to invite him to explain it.

He dropped heavily onto one of the bed. “I
never thought I’d see him again. It brings it all back to me.”

“All what?”

“Everything. The barracks, the beatings, the
constant shouting, the drilling, the drilling, the drilling....”

“Sparta....”

He hushed me, panicked, as though the word was
a spike in his ear. “People think there’s something noble about the way they
train their sons. But it’s horrible. Horrible. I can’t recall one happy moment
in my youth. I was always, always so afraid and so desperate not to show it.
You can’t understand that, I imagine.”

“Oh, can’t I?” I didn’t want to interrupt the
flow of his thought, so I said it to myself.

“There are always a few who can’t stand it, who
try to flee. They are caught and used as an example....” He shuddered deeply.
Then he rubbed his face, thoroughly, as though upon awakening from a nightmare.
I knew he was dying for a drink.

“There were four of us. Skander was the biggest
and the toughest. They had great hopes of him. They held him up as an example
to us all. And he hated it, just as much as we did, the weaklings, the dreamers
like me. Those of us who didn’t show our weaknesses at birth, so we weren’t
exposed on a hill. How often did I wish I had been! My mother....”

“What happened?” I said quietly.

“Skander did it, planned the whole thing. They
hunted us, of course. We didn’t rest for three days or nights. We were
half-starved anyway; withholding food was a common punishment. Charillos
dropped dead when we were within an hour’s walk of our goal. We didn’t even
stop to bury him. The three of us got away, Skander carrying Nikros on his
back. We got away....”

“Yes, you got away.” But had he really escaped?

Stepping out, I asked a passing manservant for
some wine. It came, pale straw like a child’s hair, but Phandros shook his
head, even as he licked his dry lips. “I won’t drink again until we are
finished with what we have to do. I swear it and this time, I mean it.”

He kept to that even through the banquet that
followed our baths. A banquet seemed to be Skander’s normal evening meal.
Whatever privations he had suffered as a boy soldier in Sparta, he was making
up for it now with plenty. Four husky boys dined with us, in whose faces I
could trace their father’s heritage. In size, any one of them would have been
an asset to a battalion, even the one sniffing listlessly at a white lily
throughout the meal.

When the honey cakes and perfectly ripened
fruit were served, Skandar clapped his hands and a tumbling troop of children
came in, nurses carrying the smallest ones. I counted seventeen in all, from
the oldest in his mid-twenties down to a pair of babes-in-arms, one of several
sets of twins.

“You haven’t been wasting your time.” Phandros
had emerged from his brooding somewhere between the fish course and the meat,
drawn out by his friend′s unceasing merriment.

“No, indeed. Of course, I am fortunate in my
wife. A peerless housewife, a queen among women! If it were not for her, I
would be a penniless fool still working as a stevedore in the shipyard. But
Aphrodite sent this flower of her sex to marry me.”

“They met on the causeway,” the lily-sniffing
one said and gave a grin that belied his lackadaisacal attitude on the couch.
Most young men do not loll in the presence of their elders but it was obvious
Skander hadn’t the heart to be meticulous about such things.

“It was more romantic than that,” the huskiest
brother put in. “She saw him when her father stopped by the yard to give some
orders. She peered out from the curtains and saw him like a young Hercules
among the weedier folk.”

“Stop them, somebody,” said the oldest of them.
“Before they start reciting love poetry by the light of the silvery
mo-o-o-o-n!”

That, apparently, was the signal for a
wrestling match. It was all in fun but when one of the couches broke a leg
under the combined weight of the four boys, and the smaller children started
wailing, Skander clapped his hands and they all trooped out again, the
nursemaids making the twins wave bye-bye with fat fists.

The oldest boys bowed to their father and
promised to mend the couch in the morning. “Nonsense...it was old. Take it to
Pelemaeus to mend and then give it to him with my compliments and a few obols
from you four. That will teach you, rascals!”

When the noise and the litter were removed,
Skander slipped off the fillet he wore on his head and rubbed his scalp
vigorously. “Now for some serious drinking!”

Skander really was a most excellent host. When
he saw that Phandros had refused the decanter more than once, he had a quiet
word with his butler. That dour individual’s eyebrows raised but he bowed
deeply. Soon he brought a new pitcher, poured some of the beverage into a
wide-mouthed goblet and offered it to Phandros. “An invention of my own, good
sir. The juice of Bergamot oranges, unfermented grape juice and the pressings
of a few flowers and herbs. I trust you will find it palatable.”

Phandros’ nose twitched and he consented to try
a sip. I don’t know what was in it besides what the man said, but Phandros
looked increasingly cheerful as the evening wore on. Finally he drew together
all his courage and asked a favor.

“Don’t hesitate, my dear soul! Nothing is too
much for the friend of my youth!”

“We need to take ship for Troezen as soon as
humanly possible. It’s life or death for one very dear to my friend here.”

“Ha!” Skander pushed the footed decanted closer
to me. “I thought I saw anxiety seated on your brow. A fair maiden, is it? She
is promised to another and you wish to appear at the wedding, seize her, and
ride off? A noble deed, worthy of many of our greatest heroes! A ship, though,
a ship....” He scratched his ring-beard thoughtfully.

A raised finger brought his man over. “Tell my
son Charillos to attend me.”

Phandros spilled his drink. “What...what name
did you say?”

The boy came in with haste, wiping his mouth. A
few stray crumbs from his snack escaped down his front. It had been, after all,
at least half an hour since he’d eaten with us.

“My son, go at once to the docks. Tell the
master of the
Doris
that his
departure for Troezen is put forward two days. He’s to round up his crew from
the stews and toss-pots and have them ready for sailing at...is dawn soon
enough?” he asked me. I nodded, stunned by the coincidence, if coincidence it
was.

“Dawn. If he has to leave half the cargo it
matters not, but tell him that he’d better leave no more than that. Oh, and he
should prepare a cabin for two special passengers.”

“Yes, father.”

“My boy,” Phandros said, his voice quavering
like an old man′s. “Tell me, what is your name?”

“Charillos, honored sir. How may I serve you?”

“Nothing, nothing. A good name...a very good
name.”

“Go now, my son. Take your brothers, Phandros
and Nikros with you. Whoever gets there first will win this ring from me.” He
drew off a ring, a ruby flashing darkly from a golden mount.

Charillos shook his head. “We’ll do it for the
love of the competition.” He kissed his father’s hand and was gone.

“You named them....” Phandros’ voice choked.
The butler filled his goblet with heavy wine and Phandros drained it off in a
gulp, not even realizing what it was.

“Yes, I named my sons for the bravest men I’d
ever known.”

“But....”

Skander leaned back on his elbow. “Men so brave
they trusted me to lead them, though I was untested and untried. They followed
me in pursuit of freedom, the only treasure worth having. They listened to my
plans and, though they knew the price for failure, not one betrayed the others.
Though it led to death for one of our number, still they did not falter. Fate
lead us on separate paths but I could never forget them. How little I have done
to honor them. How much more I wish I could still do.”

Phandros was too overcome to speak, tears
dampening his beard.

Skander sighed and shifted his weight, his
couch creaking. “As soon as I could afford it, I sent an expedition to the
Spartan and Argonian border with orders to find our friend′s poor body. I
knew it to be hopeless, of course; too many years had rolled on. So I had them
set up a monument, an obelisk of marble from the Northern peninsula, and a poem
inscribed on the side. I had a real bard from Athens write it. My sons have
memorized it. They say now that when boys flee from Sparta...and they still do,
make no mistake...they know when they reach Charillos’ Dagger, they are safe.”
He chuckled deeply. “The Spartans have knocked it down twice but I am rich
enough to rebuild it a thousand times!″

***

That butler had, I must admit, good reasons for
his pride. Before we retired, he had arranged for a barber to come for me,
organized another bath, and even offered a girl, guaranteed clean, if required.
I returned a civil ‘no’ and Phandros was already snoring.

Hearing the plaster-rattling sounds with an
expression of austere pain, the butler showed me to another room. “I have taken
the liberty of packing a change of clothing for you both, sir, as you had no
luggage. It will be the pleasure of the household to send you with a basket of
supplies as well. Sailors have such a limited diet.”

“Thank you. I wonder, could I trouble you for
one more thing. It’s a little complicated.”