CHAPTER 26: The Battle of Plataea
This time they reached Oak Heads Pass in half a day, Myrrhine astride a horse behind Sophocles, having refused to ride with Aeschylus. Riding for the first time was a frightening experience, and she clung desperately to the young man, her arms about his waist and embarrassment in her heart. They thundered past pack animals and foot soldiers going to reinforce those already at the battlefront.
At the narrow pass where rocky cliffs bordered each side of the road, a soldier commanding a squadron of Greek soldiers stepped into the road with his arm raised. Supply wagons crowded the side of the road. "Three nights ago," said the man blocking the way, "Persians waylaid a convoy of five-hundred wagons loaded with supplies. Only troops who can defend themselves are allowed through."
Aeschylus, Sophocles, and Myrrhine dismounted to stand beneath the towering crags, staring out over the spurs of Kithaeron that humped downward to a broken range of low rolling hills with the Asopus beyond. This was Boeotia, spread like a patchwork quilt. They saw Mardonius' army encamped on the far side of the thin ribbon of river, the bright sun revealing wispy outlines of the newly built palisade.
Aeschylus stood before the soldier. "We come at the order of Pausanias himself. Provide an escort. We must get through."
They waited while the soldiers argued and cursed. Finally, three unwilling horsemen with breastplates and iron helmets mounted. "They are all we can spare," the commander said.
On horseback once again, they plunged down the steep slope into the valley with the three mounted soldiers going before them. They rounded a hilltop and abruptly came upon a slaughter field. Bodies were strewn about, some lying in the road, others among shrubs and tender sprouts of fall grass. Two arrows were unleashed in their direction before they could arrest their charging pace and take to the brush themselves.
"Identify yourself," called a shaky voice.
Myrrhine slunk down behind Sophocles, felt herself tremble.
Aeschylus shouted back, "We're on a mission for Pausanias. We escort the priestess from Eleusis."
"Come forward slowly," said a shaky soldier stepping out of the bushes. "Proceed," he said. "We expected you yesterday."
Both Greek and Persian casualties of the recent battle lay beside the road and in the bushes, some dead, some in wounded agony. Several horses, bridled but riderless, stood nearby. "We've been harassed by Persian cavalry, called women," said one warrior. "What a grievous insult. The battle was very bloody." Several others came to the side of the road to watch them pass.
Myrrhine hid her face against Sophocles' back.
Before reaching the Asopus, Myrrhine motioned them off the main road toward Demeter's temple on a gentle swell of land where she and the blacksmith had been only days before. The temple was still abandoned and the softly rounded hills still covered by unspoiled grain. Breezes swept through wheat, the rich hair of the bountiful goddess, in this the most fertile plain of Boeotia.
As soon as he'd scouted the area, Aeschylus rode off in a cloud of dust. Myrrhine and Sophocles attended the icons of Demeter and Kore, clearing loose stones from the temple and propping the roof. She stood back and observed Demeter on her throne, set Kore standing straight on her pedestal alongside her mother. Long and hard she prayed that the goddesses return to the temple. She made excuses for the neglect shown Demeter's temple in recent years and promised her a great bounty for her support.
From the temple gate, Myrrhine stood with young Sophocles viewing the distant line of trees along the Asopus and Mardonius' Palisade on the far shore. Since Myrrhine's little group had successfully crossed over Oak Heads pass, men and supplies streamed along Kithaeron's spurs. The mountain was deep in shadow. Myrrhine heard Kithaeron and felt it as a great presence looming over the sanctuary. Many considered Kithaeron Hera's mountain because she and Zeus were married on its summit. Myrrhine heard the mountain's moan, sweet whispers in the late summer breeze. It had been mother and nurse to newborns exposed on its slopes since the days of Oedipus.
Aeschylus returned with three generals: Pausanias of Sparta, commander of the united Greek forces; Aristides, general of the Athenians; and Arimnestus, general of the Plataeans in whose deme the temple of Demeter stood.
"This district is Argiopium," said Arimnestus. "We asked all our eldest countrymen about the temple of Demeter, but no one knew of it."
Myrrhine said, "Plataea has too long neglected Demeter in favor of male gods. Her temple here has been abandoned for many years. Now you will have an opportunity to correct the injustice. I've prayed to the goddess, but can't guarantee I've erased all her anger at the neglect."
Arimnestus spoke to the other generals. "The foothills here at Kithaeron's feet are full of ridges, hollows, and concealed potholes. This makes it unsuitable for horses but good for foot soldiers. Thus, it will be to our advantage in battle. Within this thickly shaded grove stands the fane of Androcrates, another requirement of the oracle. Thus all elements are satisfied."
"No! One remains," said Aristides. "The land belongs to Plataea, not Athens. The oracle stated that we Athenians must fight on our own soil."
"That's critical," said Myrrhine. "Delphi's reasoning is sound. Plataea must give this land to Athens, so that Athena will protect it and all its allies. It is the goddesses who will save Hellas."
Arimnestus looked daggers at Myrrhine. "I'd be interested in knowing more about why this is so. This controversy puts us at odds with Athens."
"Thebes is the land of Ares, god of war. Its people are his descendants. Because of this, Ares will be on the side of Thebes and Persia in the coming battle."
"How can we hope for victory if Ares is against us?"
"Athena is always more fearsome in armed conflict than is Ares. She wounded Ares herself during the Trojan War."
"Eyie!" cried Arimnestus. "The priestess is correct. Plataea has a great dilemma. We must give our land to Athens or lose it to Persia."
Aristides said, "We're all Hellene, Arimnestus. Athens is a good friend."
"All right, Aristides. The oracle must be fulfilled. Although we prize our independence more than any other people, we'll remove our boundary stones."
"This is a great act of patriotism," said Aristides. "Plataea will live forever as the supreme example of nobility and magnanimity."
Myrrhine added, "Let it be known throughout the army that the battle for Hellas will be won and lost here, before Demeter's temple."
Myrrhine's words evaporated in the noise of sheep, goats, and pigs descending on the sanctuary. It seemed an invasion of the four-footed. Soon she saw that shepherds drove the animals. A chariot drawn by four white horses followed them closely. At the reins was a female charioteer, the first Myrrhine had ever seen. Beside the woman, Myrrhine recognized, having seen him only recently at Eleusis, short, thin Tisamenus, the seer. No sooner did Tisamenus dismount the carriage than four more men arrived. Myrrhine took them to be assistants and students of the great seer.
Myrrhine couldn't help staring at the woman charioteer. She was so beautiful. She wore the normal chiton belted at the waist, but over it, a long black mantle fastened with buttons at the shoulders. Her hair was the most brilliant gold Myrrhine had ever seen, Helios himself seemingly shining from within. The woman wore her hair parted in the middle, brought low down the sides of her face, and pulled to the back in a braid so long that it fell all the way to her feet. It was tied-off by a black tassel. Myrrhine tried to talk to the woman, but found that they had no common language.
The generals left, slapping their horses' flanks for more speed, and Tisamenus quickly set to work, shouting his assistants into action. First, in the courtyard before the icons of Demeter and Kore, he put up a large slaughter stone and dug a roasting pit where his helpers stacked firewood. Then he pulled a table from the carriage and, on the ground beside it, placed another large stone. He placed his left foot on the stone and leaned forward, resting his left arm on his knee. Again and again, he assumed the position, gauged the table's
distance, pushing it away, then pulling it closer. Once satisfied, he ordered the sacred animals placed in pens, the sheep and goats separated, the swine isolated.
Several other seers and their assistants also appeared, but Tisamenus drove them a stone's throw away while mumbling to himself, "Charlatans and the feebleminded. What a worthless lot we seers are."
When all was in place, Tisamenus unlaced his sandals, discarded them, and dressed himself in seer's clothes. The liver scrutinizer wore a short-sleeved undergarment closed at the neck, and over it a knee-length, pleated cloak held together at the breast by a golden clasp. Upon his curly head, he wore a hat rising to a high, narrow, conical top, held fast by bands down the sides of the face and knotted under the chin. He remained barefooted.
Myrrhine took the woman's hand, and led her back from the men. She seemed afraid, but Myrrhine appreciated her presence, the two of them the sole feminine presence in this world of men. She wore a diadem, which marked her as royalty. "Who is this woman," she asked of Tisamenus.
"She's an Etruscan Priestess of the Dawn," he answered. "She's also my wife, Auroriana, and not very pleased with me bring her here." He adjusted his cloak that seemed a bit large for his thin frame, told Auroriana something in a tongue Myrrhine did not know.
Auroriana hugged Myrrhine than held both her hands in front of her, smiled.
Tisamenus said, "She's pleased you're a priestess. Look after her, if you don't mind. She's lacking in your battlefield courage, though she can drive a chariot like a madman."
What battlefield courage? thought Myrrhine. She let go of the woman's hands and looked back at Tisamenus, who'd finished dressing. Not only was Tisamenus small in stature but also small-boned. His fingers were long, supple, and delicate. The hands of a woman, Myrrhine thought, and felt jealous of the smooth, soft look of his skin.
"You approve of my uniform?" Tisamenus asked.
"It's not my place to approve or disapprove," Myrrhine answered.
"Still, you have an opinion."
"I'm curious of its origin."
"Also from Etruria," he said, "the city of Tarquinia, northwest of Rome. I learned seercraft from the Etruscans, and they let me take a wife. You may have heard Hellenes call them Tyrrhenians. I'm one of the few to read from the Disciplina Etrusca of Tages, grandson of Tinia, greatest of all gods. There I'm known as a haruspex."
Myrrhine was familiar with the myth of Tages, a gray-haired infant who was supposed to have been unearthed by a peasant plowing with a bronze-tipped blade. The divine child sprang out of the soil chanting ancient texts from which came Etruscan knowledge of prophecy. The Etruscans were known as the most religious people in all the world. She wondered why a Greek had been given such distinction, then remembered that Delphi had foretold that Tisamenus would one day guide Sparta to five victories in battle. Even the Etruscans respected Delphi.
Aeschylus returned along with several more generals, and Myrrhine watched as the Greek army strategically repositioned about the temple. Shortly the grove came alive with men of war and their assistants. Wagons loaded with supplies and armor came alongside them.
Myrrhine stood beside Auroriana, out of Tisamenus' way, as she knew a woman's unrequested presence during a sacrifice wasn't appreciated. The generals hovered about in the failing light like lost souls in the Underworld while Tisamenus prepared to perform his entrails-reading at the table lit by torches and oil lamps. His assistants gathered about, two of them removing their tunics, to Myrrhine's great surprise. She turned her head a walked away.
Just to Tisamenus' left stood a powerfully built naked but bearded man with a spear. On the other side of the seer, opposite the naked spear-carrier, stood an older man, also in haruspex dress and leaning on a staff. To this man's right stood another naked man holding an olive branch. Tisamenus draped a cloak about the man's shoulders.
Tisamenus called Auroriana to her horses and then turned to Myrrhine, entreating her to stand behind the two seers.
"Surely not among naked men," she answered.
"They serve the ritual. We can't do it without another woman."
Slowly, she crept around to the place Tisamenus designated.
"Stand here," he said. "Face forward and keep your eyes intent upon the entrails. She peered between them at the liver on the table as Tisamenus examined it. She hoped he didn't expect her to voice an opinion for she had little knowledge of reading entrails. She wished she'd been party to her daughter's teaching by blind Udaeüs at Epidaurus.
All the masculinity around her overcame Myrrhine. She'd never been this close to a group of male relatives, much less so many strangers, and naked at that! Her heart raced wildly in spite of herself. She felt an uncommon sense of purpose and dignity among them. After they all fell into position, Auroriana led forward the four white horses by their bridles and stood behind Myrrhine and Tisamenus. So close was she to Myrrhine, she could smell the marjoram in the girl's hair and feel horses' breath ruffling her skirt.
Tisamenus turned to the generals. "Your question for the gods?"
The generals argued among themselves for a moment before Pausanias gave an answer. "Ask them under what conditions we'll win the battle against the Persians."
Tisamenus stepped from his carefully positioned compatriots to stand before Pausanias. "Idiot! You expect I'll extract a scroll from within the animal? Perhaps I should ask for a discourse on the meaning of the universe? Formulate a question with a 'yes' or 'no' answer, otherwise I'll retire to tend the flocks."
Pausanias, though young, was a large man standing before small Tisamenus, and the heated reprimand appeared as though it came from a child. Again, Pausanias consulted the generals while Tisamenus set fire to the timber in the roasting pit. Shortly Pausanias and the other generals came to him again. "Will we defeat the Persians if we force the attack?"
Satisfied with the question, Tisamenus brought the first sheep forward and slit its throat on the slaughter stone, couching the question within unintelligible words and waiting for blood to drain into the pit. When the animal stopped kicking, he slit the underside from stem to stern, broke open the ribcage with a crunch, and extracted the entrails: the still-beating heart, lungs, windpipe, and liver, all of which he laid on the table before him as he reassumed his position within the group. He performed a superficial examination of the heart, lungs, and windpipe, finally pronouncing, "The animal is healthy."
Picking up the liver, Tisamenus placed his left foot on the stone and turned his right foot perpendicular to it but flat on the ground. He held the liver in the hollow of his left hand, the large lobes hanging like pouches, making the liver's details distinct but dripping both blood and green bile. The back of the wrist of the holding hand rested on the bent knee of the left leg. Fingers of the right hand gently, sensually stroked and alternately played along the liver's wet surface as though he was plucking the strings of a lyre. All the while, Tisamenus chanted in a foreign tongue and complained of the liver's condition and color. Finally, he stopped.
"No!" he shouted, and Myrrhine jumped, so close was she to him and so loud his response. "The god's answer is, 'No!'"
Myrrhine stepped away from the group, assuming they were finished, but Tisamenus called her back. While Tisamenus put the entrails on the fire and called a slave to finish carving the animal for roasting, the generals again consulted, then put a new question to him. "Ask if we'll be defeated if we force the attack."
"Never ask a question so a favorable result means your doom. You can't trick the gods into the answer you desire."
"Then put it this way: Will we win if we let the Persians force the attack?"
A second sacrificial lamb was brought forward.
Myrrhine had witnessed seers at work before, but Tisamenus had an aura about him. She'd also not seen one so deliberate in his actions or mindful of his assistants. He demanded that the position of each remain the same as when he'd read the previous liver. She finally realized that their motions and posture were not at all spo
ntaneous but repetition, ritual. He's recreating some scene from Tages ancient text, she thought. The magic of the setting must provoke the presence of the gods, causing them to impress their intentions upon the animal's liver. She'd never seen so much blood.
Again the rite was performed, another lamb slaughtered, and this time the answer came back "yes." The generals had confirmation that they must wait until the Persians crossed the river.
Yet not all the generals were so impressed, as not all believed in divination. "What a petty trifle augury is," said one. "I've seen it all before. What if two lambs are sacrificed simultaneously, but in one the liver is smooth and full and the other rough and shrunken? What ambivalent divinity then sent the condition and color? All these contrivances are but a joke sent by Zeus. The troops are starving to death. We must engage the enemy soon or they'll have no strength to fight."
Pausanias argued his support for Tisamenus. "My blood has not turned cold but boils for battle also. Although I'm young, I've learned respect for the will of the gods. I'm aware of our need for provisions," he said. "Losing the caravan a few nights ago cost us dearly. But going against the gods would prove disastrous. Patience, my friends, patience."
The men wouldn't let it rest. "Zeus speaks to us through lightning and thunder. Read those signs also."
"I'm a haruspex," said Tisamenus. "If you desire a fulguriator, seek another diviner. Look!" His arm swept their surroundings. "Local seers are thick as the trees of this sacred glen. Use one of them."
Thus the generals did consult with the uncommissioned seers gathered on the outskirts of the temple, but all the omens came back the same. Still, some complained that the generals didn't want to fight and had influenced the seers toward negative results.
Tisamenus was outraged. "Soldiers!" he shouted. "The sacrifices are not favorable for good reason. Remember, Delphi also said to honor patience until the Persians charge across the Asopus."
Since none of the victims proved favorable for an attack, the generals suspended the offerings. Tisamenus and Auroriana retired to their tent, he pulling the woman from Myrrhine's arms, neither wanting to be separated. The generals argued well into the night. Some championed attacking at dawn no matter what, others favored waiting until the augury changed. The two groups hammered at each other with all the arguments. Finally, the generals rose to their feet with a roar. No decision! Wanting it both ways.
Myrrhine was expecting the warriors to turn upon each other, when a shout went up from outside the sacred quarter. A lone horseman had entered the outskirts of camp and requested audience with "Aristides the Just."
Aristides talked with him outside torchlight, the horseman holding the reins in one hand and gesticulating wildly with the other. Presently, he mounted and rode back in the direction he'd come. Aristides returned, heading directly for Pausanias' tent. The two then entered the temple, fearing they'd be overheard, but took little notice of Aeschylus, Sophocles, and Myrrhine.
"Our visitor was King Alexander of Macedonia," she heard Aristides say to Pausanias. "He tells a strange story, insisting I tell you but no other. Mardonius has decided to attack at dawn, no matter the omens. Myrrhine was right about Mardonius. He doesn't fear the gods, or if he does, doesn't fear them as much as he does the reinforcements joining us daily. Hegesistratus' entrails readings have also been against the Persians carrying out an assault, but Mardonius has chosen to ignore them. The Persians are running out of food."
"Mardonius is indeed foolish," said Pausanias. "The one who crosses the Asopus will lose the war. What great news! Does Alexander want something in return?"
"He's obviously playing both sides. Since Mardonius occupies his country, Alexander must support him but, being Hellene, wishes us well tomorrow and asks that we remember the great risk he's taken coming here. He wants us to do something about freedom for Macedonia should we prevail."
Myrrhine searched for a place to put a bed where she'd be away from Aeschylus and Sophocles. She wished Auroriana hadn't gone with her husband and would have stayed with her. She heard the generals discuss shuffling their forces to resist the Persian assault. The Athenians had successfully fought the Persians at Marathon; therefore, they'd line up opposite them. Since the Spartans had fought the Boeotians many times, they would try their luck with them again.
Myrrhine put out the torches in the temple, hoping to sleep a little before dawn. Aeschylus and Sophocles stood guard and talked softly at the entrance. As she laid a bearskin on the hard ground, thoughts of Melaina returned. Kallias had mentioned joining the fleet in the Aegean. Would Melaina be left alone? Who would take care of her? The baby could come at anytime.
At sunrise the next morning, Myrrhine woke hearing Auroriana praying to Thesan, Goddess of the Dawn, and she rose herself to see what the generals were up to. Mardonius, instead of attacking, sent a herald across the river to propose that the Spartans and Persians fight a single battle to determine the victor. The herald insulted the Spartans, calling them cowards for letting the Athenians line up opposite them. When the herald received no answer, he returned. Shortly, the Persian cavalry engaged the Greeks in skirmish after skirmish, but Persian ground forces stayed north of the river. All day the raids continued, ceasing only because of darkness. The assault about which King Alexander had warned never came. And apparently, all had been done in hopes that the Greeks could be provoked into crossing the Asopus to attack first.
That night, the Greeks again shifted their positions all along the front, seeking a location with more water. Persian cavalry had defiled the best source. Tisamenus was missing from camp, and Auroriana came to stay with Myrrhine, the two of them fashioning a makeshift bed next to Demeter's statue. Myrrhine heard Auroriana's soft-whispered breaths of sleep but could not slumber herself. She heard the generals arguing well past midnight.
The Mysteries, A Novel of Ancient Eleusis Page 64