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Authors: T. S. Chaudhry

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CHAPTER 46

FAREWELL

Boeae Beach

South-eastern Laconia – Spartan territory

That night

“You are a coward and a traitor,” said Gorgo.

Magnas slowly took off his helmet and said, “You are the traitor, Queen Gorgo, turning your back on what we Spartans hold dear and embracing any foreign idea and foreigner you happen to like.”

So incensed was she at his words, Gorgo picked up a heavy rock and hurled it at Magnas. He did not move away, probably thinking that the rock would fall short. It did not. It hit him squarely on the head, and he fell backwards with a yelp of pain.

His companions ran forwards towards Sherzada and Gorgo. Taking her by the hand, Sherzada brought her down from the mound towards Menander and the fires. The commotion had woken Pleistarchus. Weak though he appeared, he quickly rose and picked up Cleomenes’ shield. Gorgo herself seized her father’s sword, which she had left near where Pleistarchus had been lying. She came and stood beside her son.

Sherzada went forward to block the assailants. Swinging his long-sword over his head, he hit the nearest attacker with such force that the sword cut through his neck down to his chest. The man was dead before he fell to the ground. Experience had taught Sherzada that fighting assassins was easier than fighting trained warriors. Assassins thrived on the element of surprise. They liked to strike when their targets least expected it. But it was a completely different thing if their target was ready and able to strike back. And Sherzada was doing that ferociously; within moments, his sword claimed two more assailants.

Menander had also joined the fray and incapacitated one of the assassins. Pleistarchus smashed his shield into the head of another who lunged at him, stunning him. Gorgo took advantage of that moment to drive her sword into his groin. But the attackers kept on coming. Magnas, meanwhile, was sitting unhappily on the beach nursing his bleeding head.

The pressure of their numbers forced Sherzada and his companions to move back down the beach towards the waves. Gorgo realized that three of the assassins had circled around their rear. While two of them threw their javelins at her and Pleistarchus, the third rushed them. Pleistarchus skilfully deflected the first javelin with his shield and Gorgo, as she had been trained long ago, side-stepped away from the second javelin’s trajectory barely a moment before it struck the space she had occupied and then with astounding agility swung around behind her son and forcefully drove her father’s
xiphos
sword deep into the chest of third assassin, who was about to strike at Pleistarchus.

The two assassins threw another pair of javelins at Gorgo and her son. While Pleistarchus, protecting his mother with his own body, caught one of the javelins on the shield, she realized he could not turn in time to save himself from the second javelin and, having blocked Gorgo’s path, she could do nothing to save him either.

At that moment, Menander threw himself in front of Pleistarchus, stopping the javelin with his body. He tried to take out the missile out of his chest, but it broke in his hand. With the shaft still protruding, he charged the two javelin throwers and killed them. However, before dying, one of the assassins slit his throat with his dagger. Menander fell lifeless on to the watery beach as Gorgo screamed his name.

Meanwhile, busy fighting off the other attackers, Sherzada was pulling back to where Gorgo and Pleistarchus stood. The waves were beginning to wash their ankles. Sherzada felt his feet sink into the wet sand as he made his stand beside the Queen and her son. The assassins too regrouped, preparing for another assault.

Just then, Sherzada saw another man emerge from the shadows behind Magnas. He was also a Spartan, wearing the long crimson cloak, carrying a spear in his hand. He was also wearing a face-covering helmet. The man slowly walked to where Magnas was sitting and then stopped.

“Damon,” said Magnas as he stood up, “Where have you been? You should have been here earlier.”

“That is not Damon,” Gorgo whispered to Sherzada.

“Damon has been delayed; he sent me in his place.” The man took off his helmet.

“Pericleidas?” said Magnas, surprised. “I was not expecting you here. But now that you are, you can help me finish this.”

Gorgo gasped. “Surely not you? You were the youngest and best of our sea captains. You served with distinction at Salamis and Mycale. You are not like this man next to you, who refused to go on a single campaign so that he could chase the wives and daughters of those warriors risking life and limb for Sparta. You are a Spartan hero. Do not aid this coward in his act of treason.”

Magnas, still holding a piece of cloth over his head to stop the bleeding, said with a smile, “How sad, my Queen. Even the best of Spartans have turned against you.

“Pericleidas,” Magnas continued, “kindly do the honors.”

“With pleasure,” he responded. He slowly put on his helmet and grabbed his spear and moved forward. Then he turned around and thrust the spear into Magnas’ chest so forcefully that it pierced his armour and his body. As the latter cried out and fell once more to the ground, Pericleidas took out his sword and thrust it into Magnas’ throat.

The boat with the armed men was now close to shore. Sherzada heard one them shout, “
Ferratus
?”

He shouted, “Is that you, Cincinnatus?”

“Aye,” responded a man in full armour with shaven head, as he jumped off the boat. The Romans were here.

Seeing that the tables had been turned, the assassins started to flee. However, Pericleidas caught one of them in the back with a powerful spear throw, and Sherzada dispatched another after chasing him down.

Daylight was breaking, as Cincinnatus and his men pulled the boat near.

Pericleidas came to Gorgo where she stood with Pleistarchus, and knelt down on one knee. “Your Majesties,” he said, “I beg your forgiveness. I had no choice but to pretend I was close to Magnas. I had suspected him of treasonous dealings for quite some time, including the deaths of our senior generals. But the only way I could uncover his activities was by being seen to be his accomplice. Still, Magnas only trusted Damon. He did not always include the rest of us in his plans.

“I knew something was afoot when I saw the alarmed look on Queen Lampito’s face as I saw her talk to King Archidamus last night. I knew Magnas was up to something. I went over to Sthenelaidas and Cleandridas and forced them to surrender themselves to King Archidamus and tell him everything they knew, including the Argive connection. Magnas and Damon were in the pay of our old enemies. Even though Cleandridas is a hypocrite and Sthenelaidas an idiot, in their heart of hearts they did not share the hatred Damon and Magnas had for you.”

“Where is Damon?” asked Gorgo.

“He was coming to join Magnas. I made him tell me everything, and then I killed him.

“My loyalty is still with my Kings, Archidamus and Pleistarchus. Tonight, we have quashed just one conspiracy. But there is credible information about other plots against you. You and the King are not safe in Sparta, Majesty.”

Lifting her gown up to her ankles to avoid the waves, Gorgo walked toward the boat as the Romans helped Sherzada gently lay Pleistarchus in it. Pericleidas followed them as the waves began to flow at his legs.

“And what will you tell Archidamus?” Gorgo asked Pericleidas.

“Majesty, I shall tell him that Queen Gorgo has taken her ailing son to the Shrine of Asclepius the Healer in Epidaurus. No one pries around there, because it is also a leper colony. So as far as Sparta is concerned, King Pleistarchus is convalescing there. After a few years, if circumstances improve, you can return safely. If they do not, better you stay away. Sparta is not safe for you now.”

As Sherzada helped Gorgo to the boat, she turned to Pericleidas and said, “Not long ago, I would have preferred to have died here. But this is no longer the Sparta for which Leonidas and his Three Hundred laid down their lives; nor the Sparta that won for Greece the most spectacular of its victories. Today, those same Greeks who stood by us at Thermopylae, Salamis and Plataea are turning against us,” and then she reached out to Menander’s lifeless body, “and still we continue to oppress and slaughter those who are most loyal to us. I, who fought so hard to protect Greece from the Persians, can do nothing to save it from itself. While I was fortunate enough to witness the zenith of Sparta’s glory, I do not wish to see my son preside over the beginnings of its downfall. That is a burden your King Archidamus will now have to bear alone.”

Pericleidas bowed low, as the little boat took Gorgo, Sherzada and Pleistarchus to the Roman warship just as the sun was rising on the horizon. Once on board, the Romans made room for Pleistarchus to lie in the stern of their ship, and fixed a tarpaulin cover for shade, almost like a small tent. For now, he was safe.

Gorgo turned and saw Sherzada sitting nearby on the deck writing on his parchment. She walked over to him and sat down. Edging closer to him, she said, “I have been thinking about your ultimatum.”

“You mean, my offer. And …?” he asked, with an expectant smile.

“My prince, you ought to know me well enough by now to know I am partial neither to offers of marriage nor ultimatums of any kind.

“However,” she continued, “I do have an ultimatum for you.”

“Oh! What is it?”

“If you want me to be a part of your life, if you want me to be your wife, you will have to share everything with me. Otherwise, you can drop Pleistarchus and me at Cos and continue home alone.”

“Of course I will share everything with you,” he said, with a slightly confused expression.

“In that case,” she said, “I am delighted that you accept my ultimatum, my Prince.” Taking the pen from and parchment from his hand, she added, “now, let me begin by adding a little woman’s touch to this rather masculine story of yours.”

POSTSCRIPT

Athens

Spring, 457
BC

To Queen Gorgo, from Elpinice,

Love, Honour and Greetings

I am writing this letter twenty years after your ‘disappearance’. It has taken me this long to trace your whereabouts at the other end of the Earth.

However, the news I have is not good.

The very year you left us, our dear friend Aristeides passed away. He had just returned from his stay at the Scythian port of Olbia. Thanks to Sherzada’s help, he had made much fortune there, but it was barely enough to pay off his considerable debts. Though he died a poor man, his funeral, paid for from public coffers, rivalled that of kings.

Themistocles was finally forced into exile by his enemies at home. He eventually found his way to Asia, where the Persians made him King of Magnesia. The Persians, in the end, were more forgiving to him than the Athenians. Our great hero and democrat spent the rest of his years a despot, and a puppet of the Persians. Your cousin Pausanias, however, was not so lucky. Being repeatedly accused of conspiring with the Persians, he returned to Sparta once more to clear his name. However, facing an unfair trial and expecting no justice from the authorities, Pausanias fled to a Temple of Athena of the Brazen House for refuge. Archidamus tried to intervene to save him but was prevented from doing so by the reactionaries. They starved him to death. Now his young son Pleistonax reigns as Sparta’s Agiad King.

After a bloody and inconclusive war with Macedon my brother made peace with King Alexander and focused his attention on the Persians. Luckily, court intrigues in Persepolis caused Artabazus to be temporarily removed and replaced by an incompetent governor. And in his absence, Cimon defeated the Persians at the Battle of Eurymedon. But soon after that, Artabazus was restored to his post and nullified our advances.

Some seven years ago, a terrible earthquake hit Sparta. The Spartans, so dismissive of architectural expertise, paid a terrible price for not reinforcing their dwellings. Seizing this opportunity, the Helots rose up in revolt. Some of them came very close to seizing Sparta itself had not Archidamus risen to the occasion. He finally asserted his authority, proving himself true to his name, and successfully led Sparta out of a dangerous situation. In a rousing his speech he recalled your memory, calling you
Megisto-Anassa
– ‘Greatest of Queens’ – and repeated your words about the shields of Spartans being their walls and its spear-points their frontiers. He was one of the young men whom you had seen off that night years before on the eve of Plataea. Archiadamus then moved quickly to crush the Helot revolt, isolating their resistance to Mt. Ithome.

But Sparta had itself become isolated in the Peloponnese, all because of the influence of the reactionaries. Their insensitivity drove Tegea and other Arcadian cities into the arms of Argos, and they all joined forces, taking advantage of the Helot revolt to attack Sparta. Archidamus met them at the field of Dipeia, where he scored a decisive victory. Of the Peloponnesians, only the Mantineans fought on the side of the Spartans – and they did so with uncommon courage. They said it was their way of expiating the curse of cowardice placed on them at Gortys by your late husband, Leonidas. Almost the entire Mantinean force died fighting bravely at Dipeia, protecting the Spartan left flank. It is said that in their dying breaths they exhorted Leonidas to save them a place at his table; they said they were finally coming to dine among the heroes in Hades.

Archidamus followed this victory by sending Pericleidas to Athens to seek our support. Cimon, citing past Spartan services to Athens, prevailed upon our Democratic Assembly to let him lead an Athenian force, four thousand strong, along with siege equipment – which the Spartans lacked – against the rebel Helots besieged at Mt. Ithome.

Our intervention gave the Spartans the upper hand. At that point, the leader of the Helot rebels approached our soldiers and told them that the Helots were Greeks too. How could Athens support Eleutheria for Greece when it was helping Spartans to enslave and oppress fellow Greeks? Without doubt the leader of the revolt was none other than your cousin Euryanax. His words struck a chord with the Athenian soldiery, who threatened mutiny, much to the embarrassment of my brother. The Spartans, fearing that Athenians might support the Helots instead, asked Cimon and his troops to leave. This was effectively the end of the alliance between Athens and Sparta.

On his return to Athens, my brother was made a scapegoat for the whole affair and sent into exile. There have been calls for me to be exiled as well along with Cimon, because of my well-known sympathies for Sparta. Athens has now allied with Argos instead. I have no choice but to follow the prevailing political mood. So, on my suggestion, my husband Callias has travelled to Persia to negotiate a formal end to all hostilities between Athens and Persia. A peace will be concluded very soon, leaving us free to deal with Sparta. I hope you forgive me for doing this. I had no choice; I am an Athenian before I am a Greek.

And now as I write this letter, I am receiving reports of a serious confrontation developing between the armies of Athens and Sparta near a town called Tanagra on the Asopus River not far from Plataea. The Argives have sent an army to support our troops against yours. The forces on our side are led by Myronides, who had served under Aristeides at the battle of Platea. Nicomedes, the Regent of Sparta, leads your army. The war Sherzada warned of is upon us.

I wish you and King Sherzada well on the other side of the world. I hope you are free from all this politics and bloodshed; though I very much doubt it. Some ten years ago, I have heard, King Xerxes was assassinated as a result of a court intrigue. His murder was linked to a scandal involving a beautiful young princess. I have recently learnt that very same princess now lives in King Sherzada’s harem. I am dying to know the details. However, I must not be so insensitive. No doubt this situation causes you unease – But you must admit that we could not have lived in more momentous times.

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