CHAPTER 25: Contention Among the Ashes
Mid-day, the blacksmith's wagon, carrying Myrrhine and the newly retrieved women, approached Eleusis. From a distance, Myrrhine saw the Thriasian Plain swarming with Greek warriors. The city was abuzz with citizens who'd survived, many more than she'd thought. Word of Myrrhine's rescue of the women spread by loud shouts and screams.
Agido came running to her mother and smiled broadly at Myrrhine. "You told me when you left you'd make it up to me."
Already the resurrection of Eleusis was in progress. During the past four days, walls had been repaired and makeshift roofs put in place. Even Myrrhine's home showed signs of rebirth. Several slaves had survived and chose to stay rather than join the Persians. Melaina's handmaid and two male servants were among them.
She had to bury her father's bones, and entered the ruins of the temple to recover them. There she encountered Aeschylus. His disposition was grave, and she feared what news he might have brought.
"Don't worry about Melaina," he said. "Kallias saved her. She's with him in Athens."
Myrrhine fell to the ground before him, prayed to Demeter silently, then once again looked up at Aeschylus. "The power of Demeter is beyond imagining. All my prayers answered. When will she return?"
"She won't," Aeschylus said. "Kallias has married her."
Shock and dismay quieted her momentarily. Melaina had married Kallias? Her anger quickly flared. "How could this be? Only I can marry her off. Who raised the bridal torch?"
"Hipparete and I provided all that was proper. We returned to take you to Athens for the ceremony, but couldn't find you."
"Why the hurry? All in good time, pleases Hera."
"The full moon was right to give its blessing."
"There'd be another."
"Uncontrollable events force the pace of our lives."
"Kallias doesn't know her weakness." Myrrhine had meant the epilepsy but wished she'd said nothing, realizing Aeschylus didn't, and shouldn't, know.
"Kallias knows she's pregnant but has wanted her from the time she was born, when he was only fifteen. Kynegeiros agreed to the match before he died in battle ten years ago."
Myrrhine slumped on a blackened stone, glad he'd misinterpreted. "Why the secrecy?"
"The decision was made on the battlefield at Marathon, but Zakorus would never agree to it. Melaina has belonged to me since Kynegeiros' death. I only let you raise her as a favor to your father."
Mention of her father's resistance lit a fire in Myrryine's thoughts. She realized that Aeschylus couldn't answer her question. She knew what was up. "My father resisted for good reason. Kynegeiros would never have given Melaina to a Kerykes," she said. "That would put the Mysteries in charge of a single family, and reduce the Eumolpids to secondary status. Demeter herself would never allow it."
Aeschylus looked shocked. He stammered. "I needed to get this scandalous indiscretion out of the family."
Myrrhine's mind was a whirlwind of thoughts conjuring Kallias' recent actions. No wonder he'd been there at Brauron when Melaina needed him, and again when the Persian hoards descended on Eleusis.
"This is an outrage!" she shouted. "You've upset the balance of power in Eleusis. You're a Eumolpid, same as Melaina. Your own family will turn on you for this."
A messenger from the generals interrupted them. The commander wanted to talk to all the women who'd been in the Persian camp. Aeschylus, upon hearing this, quickly disappeared, leaving Myrrhine puzzled and confused over her daughter's marriage to a man that went against both custom and divine will. Aeschylus would pay for this.
The Greek forces were assembling for the drive north to intercept Mardonius. While others questioned the rest of the women, Myrrhine was taken directly to Pausanias, the Spartan general commanding the united armies. Aeschylus reappeared tagging along behind her.
Myrrhine was shocked at Pausanias' youthful appearance. He looked to be in his late twenties with scant beard.
"Where are the Persian troops positioned?" he asked.
"Spread out along the north bank of the Asopus," she told him, "as far as the eye can see in both directions. Just northeast of Morea Bridge, he's laid waste to Boeotia's forests to build a gigantic palisade."
"To whom did you speak?"
"Mardonius himself," she said, sending murmurs through the crowd.
Pausanias took a deep breath, relaxed. "What can you tell us of him?" he asked.
"Gluttony is his most obvious trait."
"Aha!" said Pausanias. "If they don't conserve supplies, they'll be starving in a week."
"He's also a man of great confidence on the surface, but if I read him rightly, questioning within."
"Hum. So, what do you think?" he asked, turning to Aeschylus, who'd stepped out from behind Myrrhine
"At the first sign of trouble, they'll scatter like mice."
"That's also how I read it. Speak to anyone else?" he asked Myrrhine.
"Only Hegesistratus, his diviner."
"Ho!" a man shouted, stepped forward from the crowd. "My countryman, one of the Telliadae clan." The man was short, thin, effeminate in manner. Myrrhine recognized him as Tisamenus, a seer from Elis, where the Olympic games were held and, therefore, with a reputation unexcelled for fairness. She'd heard of an oracle from Delphi saying that Tisamenus would lead the Spartans to five victories. The coming battle would be his first test.
"The clubfoot?" asked Pausanias.
"Yes," said Tisamenus.
"He's long been a Spartan enemy. We should have finished him when we had him in chains years ago. Tell me, does he still limp?"
"He makes do with his wood foot," answered Myrrhine.
Tisamenus' amusement over Hegesistratus' impediment got the better of him. "Half man, half tree!" he shouted. "They say he must keep moving or his foot sprouts roots." His laughter was a contagion among them.
Pausanias spoke again. "Anything else about Mardonius?"
"He's fearless of the gods."
"Yet he retains a Hellene seer. Interesting."
"The gods will send him false prophecies," said Tisamenus. "Hegesistratus will be worse than useless to him."
"You should also speak to Palaemon," she suggested. "He noticed a weakness in Persian armor."
Pausanias then called for the smith as the generals tossed about her news, but Myrrhine could tell they were just buying time. Something else worried them. The generals stood weaving their thoughts, each afraid to speak first. Finally, Pausanias turned to her again.
"We have another problem," he said, "a greater threat than the Persians. We have no trust among ourselves. We see cowardice on the battlefield, insubordination. In the past, we've turned on our allies as soon as a battle was won. I wish nothing more than for us to live in peace beyond the coming battle, but we are all violent, changeable men, not to be trusted. We need an oath. If the aged Hierophant was still among us, he'd administer it, but since he's no longer with us, who could better perform the ceremony than his daughter, priestess of the goddess dwelling in the ruins of this holy temple?"
"You would have a woman administer it?" questioned Aeschylus.
Myrrhine felt hatred for Aeschylus thinking again how he'd given away Melaina.
Tisamenus spoke up. "The goddess Iris is oathgiver to the gods, so let us have a woman, a priestess to bind us in this oath."
Thus, it was agreed, over Aeschylus' objection, and the lot of them walked through the ruins to the toppled icons of Demeter and Kore.
Myrrhine ordered the heralds, "Bring a black ewe for Demeter, a snow-white ram for Helios, and a third sheep for Zeus."
The heralds departed while the rest mixed gleaming bowls of wine and water, in which they rinsed the hands of the generals. When they returned, Pausanias drew his sword and gave it to Myrrhine, who cut curly locks from the lambs' heads and handed them to the generals, as had the ancient Achaians at Troy.
Myrrhine read the papyrus scroll containing the words for the oath. She caught her breath and turn
ed to Pausanias.
"You can't possibly expect them to swear this."
"What's wrong? We made a mistake?"
"By all that's sacred, yes," she said, her eyes flashing across those of each of the men. Her daughter's influence had overcome her. "The temples must be rebuilt. We can't expect Demeter to sanctify an oath denying her a new temple. What will happen to the Mysteries?"
The generals went off to themselves to discuss the issue, but resented being questioned by a woman and quickly returned, stone-faced as ever. "The statement stands," Pausanias said, sheepishly.
"Stubbornness is not a virtue," she chided. "We must rebuild the Telesterion." How could this be happening? she wondered. Surely the gods must still value the Mysteries.
"Leave these matters to those in power. If you'll not give the oath, we'll find another though it not strengthen our cause."
Myrrhine hesitated, she just couldn't do this, then remembered Hermes, the divine master of oath taking, how he lived by the letter but violated the spirit of the oath. Only those taking it will be bound, she thought, and these men will not do the rebuilding. She made her decision.
"Alright," she said, "I'll do as you wish. Woe be unto those who go against their oath. All oaths are surrounded by Furies." She stood before the ruins of the Telesterion and on the feet of Demeter, the only part of the Goddess' image that remained, and the spot where the full-figured stone sculpture had stood just days before. Myrrhine seemed to become Demeter herself as she raised her arms and prayed aloud so that all could hear.
"Father Zeus, greatest and most glorious lord of lightning ruling from Ida's height; fire-faced Helios, who sees and hears all things; Earth's Furies, snake-haired phantoms who punish the dead for falsely swearing; all ye gods be witness to our solemn oath."
Having so spoken, she turned to the multitude and had them repeat after her.
"I will fight to the death. I will not cherish life more than liberty, nor will I desert the leaders, whether they be living or dead. I will bury all allies who perish in battle. If we overcome the barbarians, I will never help destroy any cities that fought for Hellas nor will I rebuild any of the ravaged sanctuaries but leave them as a reminder of barbarian impiety."
So they all spoke, the murmur spreading in a dull chorus. Myrrhine cut the lambs' throats with the pitiless bronze and laid them on the ground gasping away their lives, black blood flowing into a large vessel. The generals stepped forward to thrust their hands into the rich liquid. They then poured wine while praying to the immortals.
"Zeus, father of mortals and immortals, to all who keep this oath grant prosperous cities, fertile land, faithful wives, and blameless children; but for those who don't, O Furies and all gods who wreak vengeance, sack their cities, decimate their fields with drought, and give them deceiving wives who bear children in the likeness of their enemies."
Myrrhine wasn't fond of the remark about wives and children but knew it had been customary since the time of Agamemnon. Tisamenus then read the entrails, obtained a favorable sign, and the army dispersed. The great mass of men then set off north. As the long river of humanity snaked along the road north, Myrrhine noticed a quiet determination she'd not seen before in warriors.
She retired to bury her father's bones, still smarting over Melaina's marriage to Kallias. Myrrhine, with the help of one of her slaves, prepared for the Hierophant's funeral. The slave dug the grave in the sacred chamber not far from where the bones of Kynegeiros lay. She looked upon her deceased husband's grave and felt the shame of what had happen. "How I wish you were here, Kynegeiros," she whispered. "Aeschylus has given Melaina to Kallias. Regardless of what your brother says, you surely didn't do this."
Myrrhine retrieved the sarcophagus containing her father's partially burned relics, arranged the ashes first, then the charred feet bones, what was left of the arms, spine, and finally the skull. The fire had consumed the fine bones of the hands. Yet, the skeleton seemed too small. They always did.
The Mysteries, A Novel of Ancient Eleusis Page 60