*
Melaina woke with little Euripides standing over her. She hadn't seen him since her short stay at Phlya at the foot of Mt. Hymettos. He peered down at her, his eyes dark berries beneath his black hair.
"Someone wants you," he whispered.
She slipped from her mother's arms, and the little boy took her by the finger, leading her out back and up the hillside to a cave.
"This is my secret place," he told her. "When the Persians come, I'll close it up and hide until I'm grown." His deep eyes darted about. He took her into the shallow cave where he'd stashed broken arrows, spears and damaged armor of tarnished bronze.
"Who am I to see?" she asked. She remembered Salamis was sacred to Aphrodite, its skyline, as seen from Eleusis, resembling the profile of a woman on her back with knees raised and spread. She looked east where the Greek fleet harbored, and a warmth flowed through her when she saw Sophocles' slim form coming up the slope. She spoke first.
"The mountain in back of Athens, is that Mt. Hymettos?"
"The same. On the way back from Brauron, we stopped at the home of Mnesarchides at Hymettos' foot. But look farther south," he said, turning a little as he came up beside her, lowering his voice. "The Persian fleet makes ready for the sea battle."
"Yes, I've seen them. A giant school of sea fishes." She thought, Sophocles has the speech of a man but still the bearing of a boy. Such an odd fellow to be so comfortable with himself. And to treat me as if I'm a woman. "Will you man a ship?"
He looked deflated. "Yes, but only to pickup survivors cast into the brink." He wrinkled his brow. "Shouldn't see battle myself. I've come to say good-bye for the present, wish you divine protection should all not go well tomorrow." He looked at the ground. "The island is abuzz with word of your descent into the Underworld last night and the remarkable way you held yourself during the earthquake. The gods are much closer to you than me. I only want to wish you well."
"Your good wishes are greatly appreciated, Sophocles, not at all brash. I'm not immune to Persian swords. And as for the rumors of desperate peasants…." She smiled.
He looked off into the distance again. "Hellene generals still argue the merits of abandoning the island in favor of the Isthmus. We are an antagonistic lot."
"Think they'll do it?"
He shook his head. "Kallias' tale of the sign from Demeter has given most the courage to make a stand here."
Melaina took a step toward Sophocles, luxuriating in the banquet of his body's smells. She saw an uncertainty, a fright in his eyes that was not there a few days ago, and realized this was his first venture into battle. "If the cheap gossip of peasants was true, and I do have influence with the immortals, certainly young Sophocles will return unharmed," she said, "for truly, how could the gods allow such a fine dancer and poet to be taken from us?"
Sophocles blushed, his face framed by chestnut hair. Searching for words where none existed, he bowed, handed her a small roll of papyrus, and walked back down the hill.
Melaina watched him go, tightly clutching the papyrus to her breast. Little Euripides, who'd been standing quietly inside the mouth of his cave, came to her side. She unrolled the papyrus and saw familiar letters neatly formed of lampblack. Her heart raced as she realized Sophocles had given her one of his own poems.
O sunlight in this war-drenched darkness,
my eyes now feast on you
the final time! For I am perhaps
setting off to conceal in Hades
the finish of my life. Most cherished friend,
in prosperity remember me
and you and your kinsmen
be fortunate in all time to come.
Melaina's eyes puddled. He'd written this just for her. She'd been in his thoughts just as he'd been in hers. Poets together we are, she thought. Most cherished friend! Oh Aphrodite, goddess of love and mistress of well-built Salamis, show a little restraint with me!
She felt a tug on her arm and pulled Euripides' thin frame close.
"Is Sophocles afraid to fight the Persians?" he asked.
"Sophocles is of stout heart. He'll overcome any fear."
As Melaina and Euripides descended through the olive trees, the sun cast long mountain shadows over the stone buildings, and she saw her mother waiting in the courtyard.
"Hurry," said Myrrhine, "the generals have summoned us."
"Mother," complained Melaina, "they want you. Keep me out of it."
"You were requested by name."
Melaina hung her head, and her mother wrapped an arm about her shoulders as they walked back together. "I know," her mother said. "Believe me; I understand your reluctance better than you think."
The Mysteries, A Novel of Ancient Eleusis Page 22