Sacred Games

by Gary Corby

  Demeter. The goddess of the harvest. She’s also the goddess of fertility, which makes it so appropriate that Klymene is her priestess. No one knows why the priestess of Demeter had to observe the Sacred Games; not even the ancient Greeks could remember the reason, and that makes the tradition very old indeed. Some scholars have speculated that, because of this rule, the Sacred Games might have begun as funeral games to celebrate death and rebirth.

  Drachma. The standard coin of Greece. The average workman earned about a drachma a day. One drachma is worth six obols. Every city minted their own coins, which created the need for moneychangers and exchange rates. At an event like Olympia, every coin imaginable changed hands in trade. It must have been chaos for the stallholders (and for the pornoi too!).

  Exomis. The exomis is the standard wear of middle class artisans. The exomis is a sheet of linen wrapping around from the right, slightly wider than the shoulders of the wearer and falling to knee length. The corners are tied over the left shoulder, which is all that prevents the exomis from falling off. This leaves both arms and legs free to move without hindrance.

  Sophroniscus wears an exomis every day when he sculpts, and therefore feels uncomfortable in the more restrictive chiton. Pericles, on the other hand, wouldn’t be seen dead in an exomis. He always wears a chiton and drapes around him a himation of fine wool.

  Genos. A family bloodline. It’s the same as gens in Latin, and the origin of the word genus in English. The genos Timonidae was a family in ancient Athens who produced sports stars over many generations. Timodemus and Timonous were both members of the genos Timonidae.

  Gymnasium. Gymnasium is a very Greek word. I’ve used the Latin form for familiarity. The Greek is gymnasion. The gymnasium at Olympia is Roman. In Nico’s day there were very few permanent buildings, and there’s no known gym from that date. I consider that impossible, so I’ve placed a temporary wooden structure where the Roman gymnasium was later built.

  To the Greeks, the gymnasium was not only a place to exercise, but also a social center and where boys went to school. Both meanings survive to the present day. In German, a gymnasium is a high school.

  Hellanodikai. The Judges of the Hellenes. Dikai means judges. The hellanodikai were men of outstanding integrity who were selected to run the Olympic Games and adjudicate disputes. Considering how desperate everyone was to win, I don’t envy them the job.

  Hellenes. The Greeks. They never called themselves Greek. They called themselves Hellenes. To this day, in their own language, the word for Greece is Hellas.

  Hetaera. A courtesan. Diotima might not be pleased about her mother’s salacious past, but the hetaerae were high class, well educated, and capable of holding their own at the highest levels of society.

  Himation. A stole or cloak worn with a chiton. The himation is made of wool and worn across the shoulders and down an arm.

  Hydria. A ceramic jar used to store water. Whence all the modern words beginning hydro, such as hydroelectric.

  Hippaphesis. It means horse-starter. The hippaphesis at Olympia was the world’s first starting gate for horse races. It worked as Nico describes in the book—a V-shaped device that enforced a staggered start, with the outer wings of the V going first and the apex of the V last. The hippaphesis was invented by an Athenian named Kleotas.

  Hippeis. Knights. Not quite the same as medieval knights in shining armor, but it’s the same basic idea. Every city had its knights, which meant citizens wealthy enough to provide a horse when they fought in the army. The term is very ancient because by classical times everyone was fighting on foot, even the now misnamed hippeis. Some cities formalized the hippeis system, Sparta being one of those.

  The Spartan hippeis were elite troops. It’s hard to imagine just how good you’d have to be, to be considered elite at Sparta. The modern SAS or Green Berets might be a reasonable equivalent. In battle, the hippeis fought in the place of honor, on the right flank, and appear to have provided a bodyguard to the kings.

  The hippeis were more than that, though, because they also had powers of arrest. Herodotus and Xenophon both describe cases in which members of the hippeis were sent to bring in men accused of crimes against the state. In both cases the crime was treason. From this it’s reasonable to assume the hippeis had a role in state security.

  Hippodrome. It means simply horse arena. The hippodrome is where the chariot races were held. The hippodrome at Olympia was entirely lost during major floods in medieval times, but when you look at a map of the ruins there’s an empty space in the bottom right corner where it is fairly obviously the hippodrome must have been.

  Iatrion. In modern Greek it means hospital. In ancient Greek, it was more like an aid station or a doctor’s surgery. Given the state of medicine in ancient Greece, it was a good place to avoid. There was an iatrion set up at Olympia during each Games—very wise, considering the casualty rate—but it’s not known where it was. I’ve assumed it was in the most sensible spot: halfway between the stadion and the hippodrome.

  Kalimera. Good morning. A polite usage between anyone. The more intimate chaire would be used between friends.

  Krater. A large bowl which sits on the ground and is used to mix wine and water.

  Krypteia. Krypteia means secrets, and is the origin of the English words crypt, cryptology, cryptic, etc. The bizarre Spartan coming-of-age rite called the krypteia sounds like something from epic fantasy, but it was quite real and is described by the ancient biographer Plutarch in his Life of Lycurgus.

  Krypteia was also the name of a kind of secret police, or a black operations group. The first mention of the krypteia as an organization comes in Plutarch’s Life of Cleomenes III. At the battle of Sellasia in 221 BC, 239 years after the time of this story, a man named Damoteles is described as the head of the krypteia. Damoteles is ordered to do some reconnaissance on the flanks, but instead he promptly betrays his own king. The Cleomenes III of this tale is a descendant of the Cleomenes who was father of Gorgo.

  The Spartans weren’t the most literary of people, even at the best of times, let alone in reference to a dark organization of secret state assassins, so virtually nothing was ever written about the krypteia. Once you’ve read this glossary entry, you’ll be as knowledgeable as anyone alive today. Speculation about the krypteia is wild and highly variable. It’s my own idea, but I think very reasonable, to assume the best performers from the rite of passage were selected for assassin duty.

  From this it seems both the hippeis and the krypteia were involved in state security, which might sound odd at first, but no one who lives in the modern world should be surprised at the idea of two competing intelligence organizations within a single state.

  Kynodesme. We had such fun trying to think of a modern name for this thing. It means literally “dog leash.” Kyno—dog. Desme—leash. The kynodesme was a leather cord that tied around the tip of the penis and then wrapped around the scrotum, to stop bits from jiggling while the athletes competed. It was the only thing athletes were allowed to wear. There are surviving pottery pieces on display in museums, decorated with images of athletes, that show them wearing a kynodesme.

  Megaron. Back in the bronze age, before classical architecture had been invented, palaces and great houses consisted of a large hall—like a small version of the Great Hall of an English castle—with a front porch and a central fireplace, and a hole in the roof to let out the smoke. Such buildings were called a megaron, which means, in fact, great hall. Mega—great. Ron—hall. There were several very ancient bronze age ruins at Olympia. The classical Greeks had no idea what they really were, but took the largest of them to be the megaron of the ancient king Oinomaos. For all we know, they might even be right.

  Metic. A resident alien in Athens. Metics run businesses and they pay taxes, but have no say in public affairs. A modern equivalent would be residents of the USA with green cards. Diotima is a metic. There was something of a prejudice against marriage between citizens and metics.

  Naos. The l
arge, central room of a Greek temple. Whenever you see a picture of the inside of a Greek temple, you’re looking at the naos. This was the room that held the cult statue. After you walk up the temple steps you come to a small vestibule called the pronaos, and the pronaos leads on to the naos.

  Nemean Games. There were four major sports meetings in ancient Greece: the Olympic Games, the Nemean Games, the Isthmian Games, and the Pythian Games.

  The games alternated in a complex pattern. The Olympics were held every four years in summer. Everyone knows that one! The Pythian Games were also held every four years, at Delphi, at the midpoint in the calendar between each Olympics. In effect the Olympic and Pythian Games took turns being held every second year. The Isthmian Games were held every two years, the same years as the Olympic and the Pythian Games, at the isthmus that connects the Peloponnesian Peninsula with the rest of mainland Greece. The Nemean Games were held at Nemea, every two years, alternating with the Isthmian Games. So the whole thing went: Olympic and Isthmian Games—Nemean Games—Pythian and Isthmian Games—Nemean Games, and then the cycle repeats.

  Olympic victors won a crown of olive branches, winners at the Pythian Games received a crown of laurel, a crown of pine branches for the winners at the Isthmus, and Nemean victors won a crown of wild celery. Anyone who could pick up four victories in a row was declared to be a paradoxos.

  Obol. A small coin. Six obols make a drachma. Most items in the agora cost an obol or two. When you die, it’s an obol that they place under your tongue, to pay the ferryman to take you to Hades.

  Opithodomos. A covered porch at the opposite end of a temple to its entrance. A good place to meet friends and hang out.

  Ostrakon. An ostrakon is a pottery shard. Ostraka—that’s the plural—were the Post-It notes of the ancient world. There was always a plentiful supply because people were constantly dropping amphorae. To send a friend a message, simply pick up the nearest ostrakon, scratch your message, and have your slave carry it. Thousands of ostraka have been recovered, because they were also used as voting slips in elections, and the used ostraka were then dumped as landfill.

  Paradoxos. It means a marvel, and is the origin of our word paradox. A man might be referred to as paradoxos if he’d done something truly remarkable. In particular, anyone who won the pankration at all four major Games was named paradoxos. A modern equivalent might be winning, in a single year, all four Grand Slam events on the international tennis circuit: an almost impossible achievement.

  Pankration. The martial art of the ancient Greeks. Gouging eyes and biting was forbidden; every other dirty trick you can think of was fair game. Clearly pankration was not for the faint of heart. Pankratists were the highest-paid sports stars of ancient Greece.

  Pornê. A hooker. The word means walker, because like their modern colleagues, the pornoi walked the streets. Our word pornography comes straight from the ancient Greek for prostitutes, and taken literally, means images of walkers. Pornoi flocked to Olympia for the Games. They were housed in the women’s camp. Since there was nowhere for them to walk, they declared their profession by hanging their sandals outside their tents. There was a world of difference between a pornê and the high-class hetaera. There are two plurals for pornê: pornoi for a mixed group of males and females, but pornai if you know they’re all women. I’ve used the generic plural in all cases to avoid confusion in English.

  Pelops. A hero-king from legend. His father was Tantalus, who killed his son Pelops to feed him to the Gods. The Gods resurrected Pelops just before dinnertime, though Demeter had already eaten his shoulder, so they gave him one of ivory. Pelops then won the hand of Hippodamia, as Libon relates in the book, in the process murdering his future father-in-law. Considering Pelops’s father had previously killed him, and the happy couple had recently murdered the bride’s father, seating at the wedding reception must have been tricky. There was a large mound in the middle of the Sanctuary of Zeus, which the classical Greeks believed to be the grave of Pelops. The Peloponnesian Peninsula is named for him.

  Praise Singer. Praise singers were poets-for-hire, who sang their poems, and who for a fee would do a terrific marketing job to make you look great. It’s difficult to think of a modern equivalent to the praise singer. If you can imagine a spin doctor with literary talent and the skills of a singer/songwriter you’re probably not far off. The two most famous praise singers in history, head and shoulders above the rest for talent, were Simonides and Pindar. One of these two men almost certainly wrote the famous epitaph for the 300 Spartans who fell at Thermopylae, but neither ever claimed the credit.

  Pronaos. The room before the naos. Many churches have a small vestibule before you enter the church proper. This is the same thing.

  Psyche. A human spirit. When you die, your psyche descends to Hades. If the proper burial rituals aren’t performed, a psyche can be trapped in the mortal world. The psyche of a groom murdered by Pelops was said to inhabit the taraxippus.

  Sacred Games. The ancient name for the Olympics. The Sacred Games were dedicated to Zeus, king of the Gods. They were held at Olympia, hence the modern name for the event. There were four major Games in the Greek sporting calendar: the Olympic, Pythian, Isthmian, and the Nemean Games.

  Sanctuary of Zeus. The center of Olympia was not the stadion, but the Sanctuary of Zeus. To the ancients, the Olympics was a religious observance first, and a sports event second. Within the sanctuary was the Temple of Zeus.

  Skamma. These days we’d call it the long jump pit, but the ancient Greeks didn’t use sand. They tilled the earth alongside one length of the stadion until it was soft and level and could take an imprint. Long jump in the Sacred Games was from a standing start—no run up allowed!—the athlete was allowed to swing weights held in his hands, and it was all done to music.

  Stadion. No prizes for guessing this one. It means stadium. What’s less well known is that stadion was originally a unit of length. The sports field at Olympia is one stadion long, hence its name. The sprint event at the Sacred Games was also called the stadion, since competitors ran one length of the field. The Olympic stadion is in the top right-hand corner of the map, and it’s a lot smaller than you’d think, considering its vast reputation.

  Strigil. A curved piece of bronze with a handle at one end, used to scrape down the skin. Classical Greece has soap, but no one wants to use it because it’s made of goat fat and ashes. Instead, a slave rubs you down with olive oil, and then scrapes away the dirty oil and the dead outer layer of your skin with a strigil.

  Taraxippus. The horse terror. Tara—terror. Xippus—horse. I know it’s usually hippos for horse, but they haven’t yet invented the dictionary and standardized spelling. The taraxippus was an altar outside the first turn of the chariot race track at the hippodrome. Most crashes occurred on that turn, supposedly because a psyche trapped within the taraxippus induced great fear in the horses.

  Temple of Zeus. The Temple of Zeus at Olympia is brand spanking new at the time of this story. It stunned the Greeks with its brilliance and was the greatest ever example of Doric architecture. The Temple of Zeus won’t be completed for another three years, but it surely must have been open for inspection at these Olympics. The cult statue will not be installed for another thirty years. When it is, the Statue of Zeus at Olympia will become one of the Seven Wonders of the Ancient World.

  ACKNOWLEDGMENTS

  THAT THIS BOOK exists is thanks to the endless support from my wife, Helen, and my daughters, Catriona and Megan. Helen is my first reader, and also the last before each book releases, since she reads the final proofs with exquisite care. Sometimes I open a manuscript file to find that Catriona has been reading through it, which I know because of the notes left behind in red, telling me what I did wrong, how to fix it, and with firm instructions on the fate of her favorite characters. More often than not, I take her advice.

  Janet Reid is my amazing literary agent. People who aren’t involved in the process don’t quite understand how difficult a job agent
ing can be. How Janet manages to remain sane I don’t quite understand.

  Juliet Grames is my patient editor at Soho Press. She’s astoundingly thorough! Thanks to her editing, I understand my own writing better than ever before.

  Anneke Klein and Bill Kirton read early versions of Sacred Games, as they have every book I’ve ever written. As always, they provided invaluable comments.

  And finally, a big thank-you to you! Every time I receive fan mail, or see a reader review online, I know a book that I’ve written has touched someone enough that they took the time to say something about it, which is very cool indeed.