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Authors: Nick Brown
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on.”
“And that’s why you will both end up testifying before the Areopagus that it was only Themistocles’s prescience in rooting out the treachery that prevented the city of the Goddess from being sold to the enemy. I’m sure you will both remember having seen agents of the Great King on Aegina.”
I couldn’t think of anything to counter this. He was of course right: the whole thing was a set up. But I wasn’t prepared for what he said next.
“I suppose you’re unaware that while the Athene Nike was away, we declared war on Aegina.”
This was too much. I opened up my lungs to shout at him but with the first sound doubled up in pain. The pain intensified and I tried to sit back up and find a position where the agony was less acute; as the tortured gasps wheezed out of my chest and tears of pain streaked down my cheeks, Aeschylus started to laugh.
“Gods, I’d forgotten how much I missed you, Mandrocles; it’s like having my own personal chorus of rustic idiots in the Satyr plays. Without you and Cynegeiros life was even bleaker than the Gods intend for us. Here get your breath drink this.”
I did what he said. The truth was I’d missed him too, in spite of what had been done to my master. We finished the jug then he helped me onto the cot and left me alone. I fell asleep to the murmur of voices but whether they were from the harbour or the bar downstairs I couldn’t tell.
I woke next morning to a room full of light and life felta little better, but I still hadn’t much idea what I was meant to do. I sat up and slowly got out of bed as painlessly as possible and was searching for the pot to piss in when Aeschylus breezed into the room. Framed in the bright sunlight streaming in through the window, I could see that the recent years hadn’t been kind to him either. His face bore not only the scars from Marathon but also a series of lines grooving their way down from the sides of his nose towards the edges of his mouth. The jet back hair now held streaks of grey and showed signs of receding. I’ve noticed that men with hair of that particular blackness seem to lose it early. I could see then the first sign of the man that you will recognise from the cheap busts of him for sale in every market place, fashioned during the fame of his later years.
“You look even worse in daylight, Mandrocles, and you stink. Make yourself look as good as you can and have a wash. We’re going out.”
He must have seen the look on my face because he added,
“Don’t worry, you won’t have to walk. I’ve hired a cart.”
“Where, where are we going?”
“It wouldn’t be a surprise if I told. Get yourself ready then meet me outside.”
I did what I could then staggered down the stairs. Outside there was a small trap attached to something that looked like the cross between an ass and a giant Molassian hunting dog. Aeschylus helped me into it then handed me a cup of warm spiced wine and a honey cake. I was touched that he’d remembered my love of those.
“These should help to take your mind from the jolting of the cart.”
“Tell me, where are we going?”
“No, but you don’t need to worry, it’s not to see Themistocles.”
As we drew closer to Athens I realised we were headingfor the Hangman’s Gate into the Ceramicus where Themistocles chose to live close to the heart of the Demos. We passed through the gate and didn’t stop at the great man’s house. By now I knew where we must be going and my heart was pounding. I hadn’t said goodbye and now I was back: disfigured and smelling rank. Aeschylus helped me down from the cart and hammered at the studded door. A panel opened, revealing the boxer’s face of Demetrius. Time hadn’t improved him: since I’d last seen him he’d acquired a new scar across his mouth and lost a couple of teeth. Seeing me seemed to cheer him up though.
“Well, what’s happened to you? Not such a pretty boy now are you?”
I knew it was only rough banter and not
“And that’s why you will both end up testifying before the Areopagus that it was only Themistocles’s prescience in rooting out the treachery that prevented the city of the Goddess from being sold to the enemy. I’m sure you will both remember having seen agents of the Great King on Aegina.”
I couldn’t think of anything to counter this. He was of course right: the whole thing was a set up. But I wasn’t prepared for what he said next.
“I suppose you’re unaware that while the Athene Nike was away, we declared war on Aegina.”
This was too much. I opened up my lungs to shout at him but with the first sound doubled up in pain. The pain intensified and I tried to sit back up and find a position where the agony was less acute; as the tortured gasps wheezed out of my chest and tears of pain streaked down my cheeks, Aeschylus started to laugh.
“Gods, I’d forgotten how much I missed you, Mandrocles; it’s like having my own personal chorus of rustic idiots in the Satyr plays. Without you and Cynegeiros life was even bleaker than the Gods intend for us. Here get your breath drink this.”
I did what he said. The truth was I’d missed him too, in spite of what had been done to my master. We finished the jug then he helped me onto the cot and left me alone. I fell asleep to the murmur of voices but whether they were from the harbour or the bar downstairs I couldn’t tell.
I woke next morning to a room full of light and life felta little better, but I still hadn’t much idea what I was meant to do. I sat up and slowly got out of bed as painlessly as possible and was searching for the pot to piss in when Aeschylus breezed into the room. Framed in the bright sunlight streaming in through the window, I could see that the recent years hadn’t been kind to him either. His face bore not only the scars from Marathon but also a series of lines grooving their way down from the sides of his nose towards the edges of his mouth. The jet back hair now held streaks of grey and showed signs of receding. I’ve noticed that men with hair of that particular blackness seem to lose it early. I could see then the first sign of the man that you will recognise from the cheap busts of him for sale in every market place, fashioned during the fame of his later years.
“You look even worse in daylight, Mandrocles, and you stink. Make yourself look as good as you can and have a wash. We’re going out.”
He must have seen the look on my face because he added,
“Don’t worry, you won’t have to walk. I’ve hired a cart.”
“Where, where are we going?”
“It wouldn’t be a surprise if I told. Get yourself ready then meet me outside.”
I did what I could then staggered down the stairs. Outside there was a small trap attached to something that looked like the cross between an ass and a giant Molassian hunting dog. Aeschylus helped me into it then handed me a cup of warm spiced wine and a honey cake. I was touched that he’d remembered my love of those.
“These should help to take your mind from the jolting of the cart.”
“Tell me, where are we going?”
“No, but you don’t need to worry, it’s not to see Themistocles.”
As we drew closer to Athens I realised we were headingfor the Hangman’s Gate into the Ceramicus where Themistocles chose to live close to the heart of the Demos. We passed through the gate and didn’t stop at the great man’s house. By now I knew where we must be going and my heart was pounding. I hadn’t said goodbye and now I was back: disfigured and smelling rank. Aeschylus helped me down from the cart and hammered at the studded door. A panel opened, revealing the boxer’s face of Demetrius. Time hadn’t improved him: since I’d last seen him he’d acquired a new scar across his mouth and lost a couple of teeth. Seeing me seemed to cheer him up though.
“Well, what’s happened to you? Not such a pretty boy now are you?”
I knew it was only rough banter and not
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