CHAPTER 30: The Council of Generals
The trireme rocked down the dark coast of Attica as the full moon rose. Melaina stood at the poop deck beside Kallias, watching the sleek triremes alongside theirs as they sliced through the sea. Although Melaina had told Kallias she could make the voyage and had believed it herself at the time, she now couldn't get the baby off her mind. She was in her ninth month and felt larger than she should, the child riding lower than normal.
Kallias was quiet beside her, pensive beyond his nature. Melaina felt lonely standing beside him and longed for her mother. But she remembered their wedding night in bed together, the warmth she'd felt lying next to him.
Shortly, they came to Cape Zoster where, back in primordial time, divine Leto had almost given birth to Artemis and Apollo. Leto, seduced and abandoned by Zeus, managed to drop her girdle on the coast there, but Hera, in all her jealous wrath, prevented Leto from delivering. Leto traveled further into the Aegean, the direction in which Melaina and the triremes headed now. As the dark land mass drifted behind them, Melaina saw a line of torches on the narrow sand spit, standing like a girdle across the Cape's waist, the land cinched to nothing where great reefs of dark cliff had tumbled to lie partially submerged in surf. The binding of Melaina's own abdomen felt too tight. She loosened Kleito's linen bandage, so the straps wouldn't dig into her shoulders.
On they sailed, the sky in the east turning pink, and at the windswept southern tip of Attica, Cape Sounion, Melaina saw the glowing temple of Poseidon, the stark marble columns towering over the cliffs of the headland, bathed in glorious sunrise. She knew that the silver mine at Laurium was not far inland. The slave children, the worms, she'd seen at Eleusis, worked the mine, and it had provided financing for the Athenian fleet. All that suffering, she thought, the suffering of children.
From the tip of Sounion, Kallias' little convoy slipped between the islands of uninspiring Kythnos, as well as mountainous, fertile-valleyed Kea. Past these islands, the triremes plunged into the heart of the Cyclades, the Aegean turning deep blue with the afternoon sun burning down upon the fleet.
Dark-maned Poseidon, divine ruler of the sea, had formed the islands himself, smiting mountains on the mainland with his three-forked sword fashioned by the Telchines. He then lifted them from their foundations as with a cleaver, rolled them into the sea, and rooted them in deep waters, all except Delos, which he left floating.
By mid-afternoon, the triremes sailed above the arid northern tip of rocky Syros, and passed south of Tynos' purple peaks just before sundown while the flat island of Reneia loomed to the right. Mykonos was beyond Reneia with Delos, their destination, between the two, close set by Reneia's eastern coast.
Ancient myths told of winds tossing Delos about on waves, but when Leto set foot on it, four lofty pillars rose from Earth's roots to hold the rock on their capitals. Leto gave birth to her divine offspring as she clung to a palm tree, knees resting on soft meadow grass that rose to form the base of Mt. Kynthos. Artemis was born first, then assisted her mother with the delivery of Apollo. Thereafter, the gods hailed the isle as the far-seen star of dark-blue sea. The twenty-one islands of the Cyclades were as a dancing chorus circling Delos, the crown of Apollo.
As the triremes rounded the northern tip of Reneia, Melaina saw warships dotting the sea beyond, patrols far out among the islands. But before her lay the small sacred isle, divine Delos, hordes of Greek soldiers roaming its shores, and battleships lining its coast. They entered the strait between the two islands, the beaches crowded with triremes, galleys, and fishing boats. Some had grounded on sand. Others docked alongside the mole of massive granite blocks forming the ancient harbor's breakwater.
Melaina had known that rocky Delos was small, but never expected this tiny, wind-swept, wave-beaten haunt for gulls. She could see past its southern tip not far in the distance, and its width was hardly more than a good walk. Kynthos, in her imagination a gigantic snow-capped peak, was but a hill, a rugged brown mass rising twixt two mounds. Kynthos was Artemis' sacred mountain from which the priestess Kynthia at Brauron had taken her name. Melaina saw the gleaming columns and walls of the sanctuary in the middle of a low-lying plane close to the harbor, the sun glowing on its marble columns.
Kallias finally stirred from his trance. "No mariners pass Delos, not even when in great haste, without going ashore and dancing for Apollo," he said. "Even before the Trojan War, this island was sacred."
They sailed into harbor, furled the sail, and oared the ship stern-first into dock. A priest of Apollo met Kallias and Melaina, stood in her path.
"No pregnant women," he said.
"She's a priestess," said Kallias.
The priest scanned her top to bottom. "She's too far along. I can't allow it."
"She's come with prophecies for the fleet."
"During birth, a human soul traverses the gulf separating our world from that of the gods. Screams and anguish of human suffering contaminate our communication with Apollo."
"Lord Kallias," Melaina said, taking hold of his arm, "perhaps I can ease his mind. May I speak?"
"If you can stay this man's antagonism. Please."
"I've witnessed this same prohibition at Epidaurus," she said. "I love Apollo and would never defile sacred Delos. I'll leave with the first labor pain."
"She'll not be here long. A couple of days only," added Kallias.
The priest hesitated. "As yet, we don't have an official order against it. Still, she should sleep aboard the boat."
"I'm a priest myself, Dadouchos of the Mysteries. I'd tolerate that for a slave, but not a priestess."
The priest turned to Melaina. "A merchant ship leaves for Athens tomorrow morning."
"She'll return when the generals say so," said Kallias. "Not before." He took Melaina's arm, and the two walked past the priest.
"First sign of labor," he shouted after them, pointing west. "All women give birth on Reneia."
They entered the sanctuary through the propylaea and entered a fan-shaped courtyard bordered by temples and filled with hordes of milling warriors. From across the way, a men's choir sang and danced, accompanied by an aulete, his music swept about by wind gusts. To Melaina's right stood a gigantic statue of Apollo, the god depicted nude, left foot forward, arms free and bent at the elbows. His head rose above the two-story buildings. When they reached the middle of the courtyard, Melaina turned back to see the great marble Apollo dwarfing the entire complex, outlined by Kynthos' dark craggy peak in the distance.
Kallias wasted no time presenting Melaina to the generals. As he escorted her to a large building at the end of the courtyard, darkness seemed to descend upon Delos like an oppressive daemon. Melaina felt another surge of loneliness. Here she was in the middle of the Aegean, on a tiny island a large wave could sink, walking beside a man who didn't want her although they were married, and about to enter a building off-limits to women. Her visions seemed trivial. How could she advise generals in war strategy? She wrapped her arms about her abdomen, clung to her baby.
Melaina and Kallias entered a chamber filled with men and stood amid a din of voices and the stifling stench of sweaty seamen. Melaina wished that Kallias had left the door open. Inside, she saw a gleaming hall, walls formed by pilasters that penetrated openings in the ceiling. The north side was a vaulted apse, the south a small temple with two polished columns in antis housing a small statue. Men sat in marble benches against the long walls. The beauty of the place lifted Melaina's spirits. She could barely comprehend the fact that the echoing hall was decorated in luminous gold, silver, and ivory, and couldn't imagine even Zeus' court on Olympus being more beautiful than this. Though lit by torches, all was aglitter as with moon-luster, or even more, fiery light from Helios.
Melaina was surprised that no one served food. There was no carved roast beast, no gold cups brimming with wine or baskets bulging with steaming loaves, no sweet entrails. Nor were any servants present, no maids or houseboys scurrying about. She realized how destitute Greec
e had become, how difficult it must be to feed an entire fleet.
Gradually, the din abated as all eyes turned toward them. Melaina heard the squeak of benches and rustle of feet against the stone floor, the flap of a palm against a tabletop. The commanding generals sat enthroned at the far end of the chamber, a great marble table before them. Melaina avoided their eyes and pulled her veil about her face. Dear Demeter, why have I come here? she wondered.
A general stopped his oratory. "I see that Kallias, son of Hipponicus, has joined us. It is indeed strange to see the rich Athenian bring a woman to a war council. But let's wait until we finish the business at hand before we allow him to justify this act."
Kallias told Melaina, "He's the Spartan, Leotychides, fleet commander."
Melaina peeked around the room from behind her veil, surprised to recognize several faces, although she could name but a few. She felt unexpectedly at home here among these men of war, strangely more so than she'd felt anywhere recently.
Leotychides sat and another man rose, Xanthippus, the Athenian she'd seen at Kleito's on the way back from Brauron and again at the Isthmus. She remembered his self-assured demeanor and soft-spoken ways, but he now had a glossy cast to his eyes, and his swift manner of speaking was labored. She remembered Kallias saying Xanthippus now commanded the Athenian fleet.
"For the past week," said Xanthippus, "my squadron has run reconnaissance, venturing far into enemy waters, but steering clear of the islands aligned with Persia. What we have to report is not good. Piracy has escalated, cutting off supply ships to some of the islands and creating dismal conditions. Starvation plagues many. The Persian fleet wintered at Kyme, but now musters at the great naval base on Samos. We must prepare to meet their threat."
Leotychides came to his feet and silenced Xanthippus. "I have to keep reminding our Athenian friends that our presence here on Delos is meant only to ensure that our shores are free of harassment. Our troops on the mainland will fight the war. We'll stay put unless Persian ships sail west." He turned to Kallias. "Why wait longer? We must hear from Kallias. It has been days since we heard news of the army. Kallias, tell us of Mardonius and the occupation of Attica."
Kallias walked forward to the table, briefly turning to look back toward Melaina. She saw his dark features beneath his curly hair. "General Leotychides, fellow Athenians and members of other Hellene states. Not many days ago, Mardonius removed his army from Attica and set up camp in Boeotia, but before retreating, he advanced west as far as Megara and burned Eleusis, including the Telesterion where the sacred Mysteries have been held for the last thousand years. He also burned everything left standing in Athens."
Melaina saw the tired faces grow dark, heard their mumbling. Kallias paused. When the voices subsided, he continued.
"Shortly after Mardonius' retreat, the Hellene army gathered at the ruins of Eleusis and took an oath to defend Hellas to the last. They then crossed over the spurs of Kithaeron and took up positions on the southern bank of the Asopus at Plataea and opposite Mardonius' forces, where they now wait until those who practice seercraft say the time is right to attack."
A man interrupted Kallias, a great dark man with matted hair and beard, soiled tunic. He looked as though he could account for the entire stench of the room. Melaina recognized him as Kimon, one of the men who'd accompanied them on the return from Brauron. She'd also seen him at the Isthmus, where he'd expressed affection for her until Kallias shoved him aside. Both times he'd been flushed with wine, but now his face was red with rage.
"Let's sail the fleet back to Athens!" Kimon shouted. "Give us a chance to fight. I should have stayed on Salamis. Now I'm stuck out here in this godforsaken wasteland of an island dawdling while Hellas burns and Mardonius thumbs his nose at us from Boeotia. All the cowards in Hellas have escaped here to Delos. Will we never fight?" He fell back in his seat like a walrus and sat there sulking. "I long for a glorious death!" he shouted. "You goat-phallused bastards want to rot in your beds on top of your women."
Kimon's voice left an echo in the large hall, and Kallias hesitated before continuing. "Could be you'll get your chance yet, Kimon," he said. "A while ago, word came of an oracle from Delphi foretelling that Hellas would be victorious at Plataea if the battle were fought on Athenian soil and before a temple of Demeter. At first, we thought all was lost, since we interpreted the oracle to mean that we must fight in the Thriasian plain. But the priestess at Eleusis knew of an abandoned temple of Demeter near Plataea, and there the troops have set up headquarters. Since the land was Plataean and not Athenian, Plataea removed her boundary stones. Such is the situation as we speak, seers sacrificing to determine the gods' will. But without the knowledge of the priestess of Demeter, they'd be floundering to fight Mardonius in a way that pleased the gods."
Kimon shouted again from his chair. "This doesn't help us waterlogged out here. I see no role for us in this." He turned again to Leotychides, "Send us back to the mainland where we can fight and die with honor in defense of our homes."
Leotychides didn't respond and Kallias continued. "I have with me the priestess of Kore, daughter of the priestess of Demeter. I'm sure all of you remember that, on the night before the battle of Salamis, her prayer sent us all so well into battle. This young woman has had visions of coming battles, one involving the fleet. She speaks of a favorable outcome, provided we observe the will of the gods. That's why I brought her to you this evening, although the presence of a woman before a war council is unprecedented. If she's right, we must act with haste. I'll not tell you of her prophecies myself but let her speak, if you chose to hear her."
A tall, middle-aged man jumped to his feet, face contorted with incredulity. "This is an outrage! I've divined for the fleet these past few months and see no reason to second-guess Phoebus. Has my reading of divine will been found faulty? The gods wish us to stay put."
Instantly, Melaina liked something about the man, although his argument ran against her. She detected an uncertainty in his manner, something sympathetic, an insecurity fueling his hot words. This man could easily be made an ally, she thought. Melaina whispered in Kallias' ear, and he stood once more.
"Deiphonus, no doubt you've read the omens rightly, but Apollo has little at stake in this as his temples at Delphi and here on Delos have been spared by the Persians. Other forces at work in the cosmos, those with a direct stake in the outcome, will determine our fate."
Xanthippus rose. "Deiphonus, seers are supposed to be versed in everything, yet you've not distinguished yourself since joining the fleet. Your oracles are long on excuses and short on action. Shut up and let the girl speak."
Deiphonus wasn't perturbed. "Your problem is not with me but Apollo's obliqueness. Tell us more of the woman's visions, if you are to hear them. They come from dreams or lunatic ravings?"
Kallias seemed to know not what to say. He looked back at Melaina, then turned to Deiphonus. "She has the falling sickness," he said, but seemed startled with his own words as shouts of dismay rocked the walls.
What's he done, thought Melaina, totally discredited me? They'll stone me if he doesn't watch out.
Kallias continued, "Many of the greats had what's known as the diviner's disease: Herakles, Ajax, invincible Bellerophon who tamed the winged horse Pegasus. She's had it since conceiving a divine child."
This produced another uproar. "Conceived a monster, more likely. Get her out of here!" shouted Deiphonus.
"More reason to hear her!" shouted Kimon. "What harm would it be to listen? Surely we have the will to reject a woman's prophecies if they prove idle." He walked up behind Xanthippus, looked down at him as he sat with fear on his face. "And you, Xanthippus. You work you heart out to jail a honorable man, let him die in prison, but speak weak words in support of this glorious woman. Rise up before this council. You lead the Athenians here. Demand a hearing for her." Kimon waked back to his seat.
"Never should we hear her," shouted Deiphonus. "Epilepsy is but sickness of the soul and replete with f
alse prophecies."
Melaina's heart plummeted. Surely a great seer such as this man would know her worth to the fleet. She was sorry she'd come. What a false sense of wellbeing she'd had thinking herself in the company of friends.
"She's Melaina, daughter of Kynegeiros!" shouted Kallias. "The dead will punish you for rebuking her."
Fnally, Xanthippus rose again. Kimon's attack on him seemed to fuel his words. "I say again, hear her! Memory of the great Athenian warrior demands it."
The general uproar supported him although Melaina thought it due more to curiosity than desire for guidance.
Xanthippus was still on his feet. "It's long been known that pregnant women glimpse the future. A priestess of the Mysteries cannot be ignored. And one of such lineage! I fought alongside Kynegeiros. No one here has his courage."
Kimon rose again, looking tired and disgusted with the whole affair, spoke directly into Deiphonus' face. "You speak as an idiot, undeserving as a child. I, for one, would listen to this daughter of Kynegeiros regardless of her topic. Shut up! Let her speak."
Leotychides himself rose, held up his hand. "Silence!" he told them, then turned to Melaina. "Step forward, young priestess. We'll hear of these visions that so moved Kallias. Start with their nature. What god gives these prophecies? Such questions are of great interest."
Melaina rose and walked forward, carefully avoiding the eyes of the men focused on her. She stopped before the table and was provided a chair. Men from the back of the room squeezed forward. She took a deep breath but so crowded with child was her abdomen that she still felt breathless. She lifted her veil in a fold across her brow. She was surprised at how weak her voice sounded.
"I realize it's unfitting for a woman to practice other than silence and discretion, yet I come to speak not of my own will but that of the gods. I'll do the best I can in spite of my sex, not being a practiced soothsayer or orator. The frenzy that sometimes captures me is horrible to gaze upon, as Lord Kallias can attest. Still, before each gruesome seizure, I have such clarity of mind, such sense of peace, that one can only describe it as union with the gods. But then comes splitting pain and raging terror no mortal should experience, followed by deep darkness and loss of the senses. Whether these visitations are possession by Apollo, as the priest at Epidaurus told me; the god of frenzy, Dionysus himself, who also has prophetic power; or divine Demeter and Kore, I know not. Perhaps the child growing inside me holds the key."
Melaina heard the men shuffling about and could see that they were tired and losing interest. She had to get to the meat of her story quickly.
"As to the visions, one occurred outside Epidaurus, the other in Kallias' home. The first was of a split path, not mortal roads but Sacred Ways defined by the Fates. Both led to great suffering during battle followed by even greater glory in victory. In the second vision, I was lofted high into the air as if carried upon the shoulders of some awesome goddess. She strode among the Aegean islands, first to divine Delos, then Samos, sacred to Hera, where smoke trailed skyward from some great conflagration, then on to mainland Asia where a great groan issued forth."
She stopped for a moment to catch her breath. The hall was deathly still.
"I've studied this last vision for meaning and can only say that surely some great atrocity is to take place at Samos. The meaning of the agony in Asia can only signify a battle. But regardless of my interpretation, I can say for certain that Zeus wills you forth to battle against the Persians. You can meet nothing there better or worse than your fate."
The chamber remained quiet following her words. Finally, Xanthippus rose. "Mistress Melaina, I marvel at the sight of you. Your manner of speech, though maidenly, couldn't be more like your father's. That any daughter of his could speak so well is no surprise. You've come among us with your wisdom, goddess-like, yet humble as befits your gender. I, for one, would heed this advice, take your prophecy as truth, and proceed on the attack. But I've not the deciding vote. We must haggle amongst ourselves to learn whether we have the courage to accept the challenge you put before us. One would hope for swift action, but our short history here on Delos wouldn't foretell it. Retire to your accommodations here on the island. We'll trouble you no more."
Kallias took her by the hand and led her from the building, through the courtyard, and to a temple where the priestesses lived. Kallias was lost in thought, and Melaina wondered at the impact she had on the generals.
"What'll they do, Lord Kallias?" she asked. "I'd expected them to decide one way or the other. I've failed you, and them also, by being unconvincing."
"Oh, but you were convincing. You must understand. Generals are timid creatures, overwrought with political motives. We've done our best. Let matters fester."
As they entered the temple of Artemis, Melaina caught sight of a tall girl in a short bare-armed chiton. The girl looked familiar, but Melaina thought it impossible that she'd know someone on the island. Still, the face was unmistakable, and the girl stood tall as a man, head and shoulders above the other women. She had a wolf at her side.
"Keladeine!" shouted Melaina.
It was the young priestess from the Isthmus of Corinth.
The Mysteries, A Novel of Ancient Eleusis Page 76