School of Athens
Page 20
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MEGARA
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The horsemen are in surprisingly good spirits by the time they catch sight of the gates of Megara. They have completed their ride through Attica in no time at all and expect to be back in their homes well before the sun sets later in the day. One of the slaves starts to worry that if they do return home so soon their superiors might suspect they didn’t carry out their duty at all.
“That doesn’t seem likely,” the Standard-bearer explains to the slave. “You know how these things work: We arrive with a message. Then we enter with pomp and ceremony—that always take time to arrange. They thank us for our efforts and ask us to dine with them. We accept and pass a few hours with meaningless chit chat.”
“Then they wish us a safe journey home,” the Herald adds.
“I just wish they would do so shortly after we arrived,” the Standard-bearer notes. “If I wanted to spend any more time in Magara then my duty required, than I would live there.”
“I promise to make this brief,” the Herald says as he dismounted from his horse and turned to the pair of slaves accompanying them. “C’mon, now, all of you! The walk will do us all well.”
The Herald has an ulterior motive for arriving at the gates on foot. He alone is privy to the message they are delivering and believes it to be wise to approach the city as a friend and ally and in the least threatening posture possible. He even contemplates removing his helmet only to determine this to be taking his display of good faith too far.
The message the Herald carries is a simple request, made by Pericles himself, to the Megarians to cease cultivating lands consecrated to the goddess Demeter. Such requests are not uncommon, but usually accompanied by a larger retinue of heralds or delivered by a company of soldiers. The Herald, however, doesn’t dwell on why the archon sends such a small party on this particular mission and assumes that Pericles wants the job done quickly above all else.
Megara sits adjacent to the great city of Corinth on the southern coast of the isthmus that separates Attica from Peloponnesus. Consequently, she’s an important trading post and strategic city, one that enjoys being lavished with the attention and goodwill of her neighbors and powerful interests from all across Greece. The leaders of the city are quite accustomed to having their way in matters of diplomacy, a quality which makes frequent fodder for jests among the Athenian herald corps.
A Sentry stationed above a turret atop the gates sees the Athenians approach and yells down to the Herald as he soon as the party is in earshot. “Who’s there?”
“A herald of Athens sent by the archon Pericles.”
“No one told me of any heralds arriving today,” the Sentry replies.
“Megara has built farms on land sacred to the goddess Demeter,” the Herald answers in a calm voice, “and this has displeased the priests in Athens. I have been sent to see that the situation is resolved.”
“Very well,” notes the Sentry. “I will inform the oligarchs. Safe travels to you.”
The Herald looks over his shoulder at the rest of his party and shrugs. A cold reception is not how heralds are typically treated, especially by lowly foot soldiers. “He’s probably been curing his boredom with a sip of wine for every traveler what passes through the gate,” the Standard-bearer speculates. The slaves each look at him with puzzled expressions. “What?” replies the Standard-bearer. “Don’t tell me you wouldn’t do the same thing!”
The Herald shakes his head and returns his attention to the Sentry. “Apologies, sir, but as you can see, we carry the Caduceus, the symbol of Hermes,” he says, moving a step closer to the gate with each word. “It is my sacred obligation to deliver the message in person to your city’s leaders.”
“No closer, Athenian!” the Sentry screams as a company of archers emerged from the parapet wall and draw their bows.
The Herald raises his hands to show he is unarmed. “Good friend,” he begins, “by law and tradition I am granted safe passage. All heralds are to be treated as guest-friends.”
“Stand down, men!” the Sentry yells. The command immediately brings the archers to ease. “Prepare to open the gate!” he shouts, then disappears along with the archers.
The Herald turns and walks back to his horse, urging his men to remain clam with only the slightest movement of his hands. “Everything will be fine,” he reassures.
The city gates opens and out pours the Sentry and a company of hoplite soldiers in full armor who immediately draw their swords and surround the Athenians. Instinctively, the Herald and his men reach under their saddles and withdraw swords.
The Sentry laughs. “I thought heralds traveled unarmed?” he asks.
“Thieves and highwaymen neither keep treaties nor honor traditions,” the Herald replies. “Just like false friends.” The Megarian steps closer. “Whatever your quarrel with Athens, it should be a matter for the priests at Delphi to arbitrate!”
“If only the priests spoke for the gods and not the party with the most coin,” the Sentry scoffs.
“Friends, be reasonable!” The Herald pleads. “Killing a herald is an act of war! Let us return to Athens and send ambassadors to negotiate a settlement.”
“I’m afraid I can’t do that,” the Sentry said. “Guards!”
The soldiers strike at the Athenians, quickly killing the two Slaves and bringing the Herald and Standard-bearer to their knees, swords drawn across the backs of their necks.
“You’ll get your chance to give our reply to your archon,” the Sentry tells the Herald with a quick nod to the soldiers. He pulls the sword from his sheath, walks over to the Herald and raises it high over his head. “You won’t be the man who delivers it,” he says just before he decapitates the Herald. The lifeless head rolls on the ground before coming to rest underneath the Standard-bearer, who looks into his colleague’s vacant eyes and sees the reflection of a sword descending down on his own neck.
The men hover silently over the twitching bodies. The Sentry removes a panel of clothe from one of the dead Slave’s tunic and wipes the blood from his shield. “Your shield,” one of the soldiers says, pointing to the Sentry.
“What about it?” the Sentry plies, more concerned with cleaning his equipment than answering a subordinate’s questions.
“There’s an image of a griffin carved into it,” the soldier says.
“So what if it does?” the Sentry spits back.
“I’ve just never noticed it before,” the Soldier says. The Sentry shakes his head and without giving an answer. “What do you want us to do with the corpses?” the Soldier asks.
“Bury the bodies or leave them for the dogs, it make no difference to me,” the Sentry replies. “Bundles the heads together in standard, tie it to one of the saddles and send the horse back. The Athenians should be able to understand the message,’ he asnwers as he walks back to city gate.
“And what message is that?” the Soldier asks.
“That the war has begun.”
Coming soon…
SCHOOL OF ATHENS
PART II
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