CHAPTER 5: The War Council
Myrrhine had left home for Brauron the day before news broke of the Spartan defeat at Thermopylae. With the evacuation of Attica, the road east had been blocked at the foot of Mt. Hymettos. Realizing she couldn't get through, Myrrhine had sought refuge at the home of an old friend, Kleito, wife of Mnesarchides, and sent an overnight runner to the Hierophant at Eleusis telling him of her predicament. She asked that the Hierophant immediately retrieve Melaina. If he didn't, surely Melaina would be killed. Myrrhine had known nothing of her daughter's fate until she saw Melaina outside the banquet chamber with Kallias.
Myrrhine squeezed her daughter until the girl squirmed to free herself.
"My ribs are sore, mother."
"Why all the blood?"
Myrrhine listened to her daughter describe the events that occurred during the initiation, held her when she cried over Kynthia's death and her uncertainty at the fate of little Theodora.
"I also have so much to tell you, Melaina, things I couldn't before. The months you were away in Brauron seem years."
But Myrrhine didn't have time to elaborate. Kallias reappeared. He dragged them both inside the dining hall where a hastily organized council of generals was in progress. Hestia's hearth burned in the corner to the far right, flames licking high into the air through a hole in the ceiling.
One of the men was on his feet speaking. Myrrhine whispered in her daughter's ear, "He's Xanthippus, an Athenian general." Myrrhine wondered how Kimon would handle being in the presence of Xanthippus, as the general had sent Kimon's father to prison where the old man had died. Xanthippus was a short but broad man, deep-chested. His voice was quiet, and so the room fell silent under the soft swiftness of his words.
"... though defeated at the Hot Gates, we've learned a valuable lesson: how to fight Persians on land. Our fleet at Artemisium also proved it could hold its own at sea even when badly outnumbered. We've looked into the enemy's jaws and found his teeth dull, heard his roar, and found it less than frightening. Xerxes won a battle, but planted the seeds of his own destruction."
Myrrhine noticed that the men appeared restless, their eyes trained on Melaina's bloody chiton. Another man rose to interrupt Xanthippus. Myrrhine whispered in her daughter's ear, "That's Mnesarchides, Kleito's husband."
"Enough, Xanthippus," Mnesarchides said. "Kallias, richest of Athenians, has returned from Brauron, and by the looks of the maiden, though she be blood-splattered, his mission was a success. Torchbearer, what word do you bring from the coast?"
"Grim news," said Kallias, stepping forward. "But also an account of events forecasting great promise." The tie binding his hair had broken, and his black mane fell in ringlets to his shoulders, glistening against his ashen skin. "I've indeed retrieved unharmed the maid of Eleusis, out of the very hands of Persians. Only moments after I reached the temple of Artemis at Brauron, a band of Persians, who'd come by sea, tried to assassinate her. I witnessed the priestess of the temple trade her own life for this little priestess. Kynthia lies dead, the temple overrun. The five warriors I took with me are also dead. Last we saw, the temple was in flames. We barely escaped with our own lives."
Voices erupted, men turned to look at one another. "Great Zeus! Brauron burned, Kynthia dead. What's to become of us?"
"This knife," Kallias drew his own dagger, held it high for all to see, "took the life of two Persian assassins. I tell you, this is an omen of no small import. My own eyes witnessed the courage of this young woman, felt small standing beside her though I killed those who would have killed her. In the face of certain death, she stood her ground as did her father, Kynegeiros, at Marathon. Alas, that he died there! And all this yet but preparation for witnessing how the gods cherish her. Perhaps Kynegeiros himself watches over her, for during our brief encounter with the Persians just outside the gates of Paiania, a Persian spear pierced her through, but now she bears no wound from it. The holes in her chiton are there for all to see."
Myrrhine considered Kallias' words about her daughter, realizing his talent for hyperbole, yet the crowd listened trance-like. "Kallias," said one, "we haven't had such a favorable sign since the great god Pan was seen in the Peloponnese voicing his support for us at Marathon."
Kallias finished with a flourish. "School yourself in this young woman's courage! If the warriors of Hellas have half her mettle, we can defeat the Persians, no matter their numbers."
The chamber fell silent, all eyes transfixed on Melaina. Myrrhine saw her daughter blush deeply.
Xanthippus rose again. "Word that the Persians are burning our temples is of concern but not unexpected. Perhaps Hellas' salvation will come from divine outrage. No one could have foretold that long-dead Theseus would return to lead us at Marathon. Let us hope a new savior will deliver us this time."
Myrrhine felt a tug at her sleeve. "When can I eat?" Melaina whispered. "Will they never stop talking?"
Mnesarchides again rose to halt Xanthippus' monologue. "Kimon, tell us of your return from the southland. We, who remained behind to execute the evacuation, have been in sore need of your counsel. What can you tell us of our friends at Cape Sounion?"
Kimon was a great presence, heavier than Kallias but with the same dark countenance. He spoke with authority, emphasizing his words with a sweep of the arm, yet still projecting humility. His face was flushed from wine, and Myrrhine noticed that he never looked in the direction of Xanthippus. "My tale is much the same as Kallias'. Two Persian warships put ashore at Cape Sounion and quickly overran the temple of Poseidon. Before we were forced to flee north, we saw the nearby silver mines at Laurium fall to Xerxes. Zeus has turned his back on us for now." Having given his message, Kimon stepped back among the crowd for someone else to speak, but stepped forward again. "One more thing," he said. "I've spoken to those who've been behind Persian lines. They talk of Xerxes hiding his dead from his own men. Xerxes doubts himself, if I read it rightly."
Mnesarchides rose. "Perhaps Xerxes fears our will to fight as Leonidas and his men demonstrated at Thermopylae." He turned away from Kimon. "Kallias, I know your mission is urgent. During the priestess of Demeter's short stay with us," he looked toward Myrrhine, "I've learned of the Hierophant's concern for all Hellas should the Mysteries, only three weeks away, suffer neglect. Your word of this hearty but tender young woman certainly gives us courage. How could we expect less of the daughter of Kynegeiros? We'd hoped to catch a night's rest and depart tomorrow, but now see we must take what's packed and make our getaway before the pass closes. We'll detain you no longer, except for a libation and prayer from the priestess of Demeter before leaving."
Myrrhine noticed the muscles of Kallias' jaw tighten. After all, he was a priest and could have performed the ritual himself. She decided that her prayer would be to Kallias' divine ancestor, Hermes, from whom all Kallias' family of Kerkyes descended. Myrrhine pushed her daughter away, though the girl groaned at the separation, and walked toward Xanthippus. She received a cup of wine from him, averted her eyes to avoid contact, then splashed the altar stone with the red liquid and raised her arms.
"Hermes, guide of souls in the Underworld, protector of travelers; all who meet here tonight journey the road to death. Though for some it will come soon, others later, we are all yours. O Argeiphontes, father of lies and thieves, give false prophecies to the Persians and loot their courage. Grant us a safe journey home and strength for the dark days before us. Grant this and ever we'll roast glistening fat and thick thigh pieces in your honor."
As soon as her prayer ended, a long-haired slave boy approached and set a bowl of mint-scented water before Xanthippus, who dipped his hands, then dried them in the slave's hair. Another slave brought baskets bulging with barley bread, Demeter's gift—steaming loaves lofting mingled smells of yeast and honey. Platters of hot food soon crowded the table, and men tore apart great loaves, using the pieces to scoop stew.
The three of them left the room, and Mnesarchides followed. He and Kleito begged Myrrhine and Melaina t
o join them at their other home on Salamis after evacuating Eleusis. But Kallias, in his hurry, ushered them outside into the dark as Melaina protested her hunger.
"Quit whining," said Kallias. "You can eat at journey's end."
Melaina snatched a small loaf as the group left the room.
The young man, who'd come with Kallias and Melaina, was waiting alongside the chariot. The high-stepping horses, looking refreshed after being watered and fed, anxiously pawed the ground and rattled their bridles.
Kimon burst out the door to join their party. "If I stay behind with Xanthippus so close by, I'll kill him," he said. "Ever the call to avenge my father's death plagues me."
Myrrhine sympathized with Kimon. Her own husband had served and died at Marathon under Kimon's father, Miltiades. Yet a few years later, Xanthippus had had the victorious general imprisoned, where he died of gangrene from an unhealed wound. She wondered what would become of them if the generals themselves hated each other. She looked west where the glow from Athens lit the horizon. The great city hadn't slept either. The chariot was crowded with the three of them, oaken axle creaking under the weight. Kimon and the young man went in the lead ahead of the chariot.
Myrrhine held her daughter to her, and they slumped to the floorboard behind the Dadouchos. Slow-flowing time drifted by with the darkness.