Requiem For Athens

by David Alkek

  But what of Phidias? What was his destiny? Should he remain in the soul-calming life that she has given him? Should she influence him to stay? She admitted her love for him tempted her to do that. But would her own self-interest prohibit him from fulfilling his life's goals? Perhaps he should follow Aristotle and experience the world outside of Greece.

  She grabbed at her heart as the agony of her dilemma made it ache. "Oh, Athena," she prayed aloud, "patroness of our city, I beseech you to help me to do what is right. My heart will break if Phidias leaves me, but if I prevent him from his opportunity to grow with Aristotle, I will be racked with quilt. I am lost, either way. What should I do?" No decision was easy when hearts would be broken as a consequence.

  She thrust her face into her hands, the tears flowing between her fingers and spotting the sun-dappled stone at her feet. The pigeons moved around her, cooing and looking for further crumbs, oblivious to the shuddering sobs coming from the woman sitting on the fountain.

  At the Academy between classes, Phidias strolled through the groves deep into his own thoughts. He was completely in love with Thais, and through the years they had been together, he knew it was reciprocated. He found himself thinking of her even during classes and discussions he was leading.

  He began to think practically about their relationship. Would Thais continue to love him, if he could barely put food on the table from what the students and their parents paid him? She had been generous these many years, but would there be an end to it? He wanted to live with her forever, but would she keep him, a poor philosopher? He decided that he would try to make more money. He would tell her that he was quitting the Academy. He would go into business. He would ask his brother to set him up into exporting olive oil or something. That may prove to her how much he loved her, how much he would sacrifice for her. Oh ye gods, he prayed, if they could hear, help him.

  That evening at dinner, Phidias told Thais of his plans to quit teaching and to ask his brother to set him up in business.

  "What? Are you crazy?” she screamed. "You know nothing of business. You don't even know how to bargain with the food vendors."

  "I’ll learn, I’m smart, my brother will teach me. I want to make more money to support our household."

  "What do you care of our household? All you ever see of it is the dining room and bedroom. I think all I am lately is a source of food and sex for you. I’m getting tired of all your insatiable need for love-making, of fulfilling your libidinous appetite. I’m going to bed. You can sleep in your own room. Goodnight."

  Over the next days, Thais drew herself further away from Phidias, picking arguments over insignificant things, refusing sex with one excuse or another. Phidias was distraught, at his wits end what to make of Thais' moods and words. He lost his appetite and became careless with his habits. He came upon a group of students talking under the portico. He heard his name mentioned and stopped behind a pillar to listen to them.

  "What has become of Master Phidias of late? His mind wanders during a lecture. He stops, looks blank, and then asks us what he was saying. Is he getting senile?"

  “He’s only in his forties, but maybe he’s sick. Have you noticed he’s lost weight? His face looks thinner."

  "And his robes. They’re soiled and frayed on the edges. He really needs new ones."

  "Some of my friends are wondering if we should stop going to his classes. What do you think?"

  “I don’t know. Let’s go to the gymnasium and talk to some of the others.”

  Phidias was devastated. He had always enjoyed the adoration of his students, but this completely destroyed any satisfaction he felt. Could it be that bad? What was happening to him? He had to get a hold of himself.

  He decided to seek counsel from his friend. He found Aristotle in one of the halls, speaking to a group of men and students. As he entered, he heard one of the men ask Aristotle, "What is the best life? What is the highest aim we should look for in a life?"

  The lecture and discussion continued, while Nichomachus, a nephew of Aristotle, took notes. Aristotle said that we seek happiness or flourishing in a life as the highest goal. All other things such as wealth, fame, power, intelligence we use as means to that end.

  The audience broke up into small groups discussing what they had heard. Aristotle walked through the crowd, acknowledging colleagues and thanking them for their comments. As he started down the steps of the temple, Phidias reached his side. "May I accompany you? I have something I must discuss with you."

  "Certainly, my friend," Aristotle said, as he patted Phidias on the back.

  Phidias poured out his feelings to Aristotle, a picture of a heart bleeding with love but beaten back by indifference "I don't even know if she loves me anymore. I don't know what to do."

  "And I don't know that I can tell you what to do. All I can do is give you my opinions. Maybe Thais loves you or maybe not. She is hetaira. You are not bound by ties of marriage and she must feel that she is getting older and may need more financial security for later years. You have the rest of your life and work ahead of you. You have a brilliant mind and should not waste it.”

  “I know these things in my head, but my heart is so torn apart that I can’t think clearly. What should I do?”

  "I can venture some advice. Perhaps you should quietly reason out your options and talk to Thais again. Try to put your emotions aside and think logically. A way will open for you. Remember what I said in the lecture, that a man should use his mind and the talents he has to attain his greatest good or happiness.

  Phidias looked at Aristotle with saddened eyes and admitted, "You’re a very wise and true friend. I will do as you say. Thank you," he murmured as he clasped Aristotle's hand.

  The next day Aristotle had no lectures so he went to the home of Thais. Sitting in a small but comfortably furnished parlor off of the courtyard, Aristotle and Thais were served fruit and wine mixed with fruit juice. "Thais, I believe you know why I have come to see you," started Aristotle.

  "It is Phidias."

  "Yes, it’s Phidias. He’s emotionally distraught. He sometimes skips his lectures and his students talk about his absentmindedness. His classes have suffered and parents have stopped sending him money. He’s at his wits end about his relationship with you"

  "I’m aware of Phidias' emotional dilemma, Master Aristotle. We have had our talks. Frankly, I’m tired of his slobbering sex and fawning ways. He’s smothering me. I need air. I can’t breathe. I’m an intelligent woman and I miss my independence. He needs to be independent also, and perhaps will do well to leave me and even Athens for a while. After all, he is forty-five years old and I am not getting any younger myself. I don’t love Phidias anymore. I want you to take him with you, if and when you go to Macedon."

  "I know you two have had a great love and I’m sorry to see it end thus. However, I do believe you’re right. He needs to broaden his worldview, become more educated, more traveled, and go with me to Macedon. Phidias has great talent as a historian, and must not waste it. In addition, Philip is the most powerful monarch in the Greek world and may someday be lord of all Greece. It would be a great opportunity to be at his court, which is where the history of Greece will be made in the next several years.

  "I also will be entrusted to the teaching of his son and probable heir, Alexander. It’s a wonderful opportunity to mold the mind of a future king of a powerful country. Phidias would share it with me.”

  "I will help Phidias make up his mind, Aristotle. I wish you well in Macedon."

  "Thank you, Lady Thais. I have enjoyed the wine and our conversation. Goodbye.”

  After Aristotle left, Thais ran, threw herself on her bed and cried deeply into her pillow. She loved Phidias, but knew that she had to let him go. No one must know how her heart was breaking. No one must see behind her seamless facade.

  That night she had her slaves prepare a sumptuous meal with oysters, fish, lamb, and fresh cooked vegetables, served with their best wine. The most expensive dinnerware
, candles, and fresh flowers graced the table. Neutral conversation of the events around Athens filled the time while they ate. After the dishes were cleared, Phidias told Thais of his plight, of his love for her and of his fear of losing her. He told her of Aristotle's offer of taking him to Pella and Philip’s court, and of his conflicted feelings toward making any decision.

  “I don’t know what I should do. If you tell me you love me and want me to stay, I will. Perhaps we can make tender love and rekindle that flame of our youth," he said softly, putting his hand on hers.

  She pulled away her hand and threw wine in his face. "Don't you dare talk to me of love. Your groping sex disgusts me. Not only do I want you never to touch me again, but I don't want to see you anymore. I have only pretended to love you these last few months. I have bitten my tongue to keep from screaming in protest every time you place your grasping hands on me. I had this dinner prepared as my last goodbye.

  “Now get out. Leave my house. You can sleep at your brother’s tonight and I will have your possessions sent there tomorrow. Yes, and all your precious books, too.”

  "Please, Thais. Don't do this. I will die. I love you. I know you still love me. You can't mean what you say"

  "I mean every word. Get out of my house and my life," she screamed. “I never want to see you again."

  Phidias rose and like a beaten dog retreated through the door and the gate. With burdened shoulders and tear-blurred eyes he dragged his feet through the streets to his brother’s house

  The next day it was a struggle for him to get out of bed and stumble through the day. He avoided his classes and sought out Aristotle. "Thais threw me out. She doesn't love me anymore. I know you told me to use my head, to reason out what I should do, but philosophy eludes me when my emotions are in such turmoil. There is nothing left for me to live for.”

  Aristotle grasped Phidias by his shoulders. “My friend, you have much to live for. You have much you can contribute, to fulfill the function for which you were made. You remember when I gave that discussion about happiness? I said friendship is the chief aide to it. Indeed happiness is multiplied if it is shared. A friend is one soul in two bodies, a single mind, and a single purpose--each other's happiness. Therefore, I extend my hand of friendship. As my friend and equal companion I want with all my heart for you to accompany me to Macedon. For it is there that your heart will heal and your mind will help the destiny of Greece.”

  Phidias let go of Aristotle's hand and embraced him. "I accept your friendship and will gladly go with you to Pella."

  III Pella, Crossing the Threshold

  Chapter 14

  The king sat on his white charger, as strong and athletic as its rider. His armour shone in the bright Macedonian sun as he watched the phalanx practice their maneuvers. They turned as one at the command of their officers, like the disciplined machine that they were. He nodded his head in approval, his helmet covering the brown hair beginning to gray. Handsome, strong of body and will, Philip was a magnificent specimen, a rough barbarian king trying at times to be an Athenian gentleman.

  At the end of the exercise, he turned his mount toward the palace. He had heard that Aristotle had arrived and wanted to meet the Athenian philosopher, whose fame preceded him.

  Having changed armor for a royal robe, he received Aristotle and his friend in his private chambers. He offered them cups of wine poured by a boy slave. "Welcome to Pella, Master Aristotle. I'm afraid it's not Athens, but I hope you will help me make it more so."

  "Thank you, Sire." He turned to Phidias. "I would like to introduce to you, Master Phidias, who will assist me in tutoring your sons and those of your nobles."

  "Welcome, Master Phidias. If Aristotle vouches for you, then you must have intelligence and a gift for teaching."

  "Thank you, Sire," said Phidias. "I hope to merit your trust."

  "Phidias will teach history and geography, his specialties," Aristotle explained, "whereas I will concentrate on philosophy, morals and ethics, and political science."

  "Excellent," the king rubbed his hands, "I hope you will teach young Alexander how to be a king. I trust you will make an Athenian gentleman out of him, something I have tried to do, but failed, sadly to say." He laughed heartily, drank down his wine, and poured another cup. "More wine?" he asked

  "Thank you, no, Sire," Aristotle declined. "I am tired from our long journey and would like to rest. Do you have any more questions for me or Phidias?"

  "Only when you want to start your teaching?"

  "We would like to meet your son tomorrow morning, and the rest of the boys in the afternoon, if that's all right with you."

  "I will have the youths brought to the building that you will use. My servant will show you the place. Now you may go, cleanup, enjoy a pleasant dinner, and rest. Again I welcome you to Pella with open arms." The king lifted his cup in a salute and the two men left.

  After the two philosophers departed, Philip had a warm feeling of accomplishment. He had succeeded in bringing the famed Aristotle to be the tutor of his heir. Phidias was a bonus. He started to reflect on how fortunate his life had been.

  * * *

  It was an improbable chance that he was even King. He was the third son of the king of Macedon. As a teenager, he had been sent by his father to Thebes as surety for a treaty, a sort of hostage. Fortunately, he lived in those three years with Epaminondas. It was he who developed the first principles of strategy for Greek warfare, which finally destroyed Spartan power. Philip no doubt absorbed some ideas from the great military strategist. It was in Thebes, that he was exposed to Greek culture, especially the art and literature of Athens.

  When Philip was about twenty years of age, he accompanied his two older brothers to battle the Illyrians, who had invaded Macedon. In the ensuing battle, his oldest brother, King Perdiccas, and his other brother were killed. The shattered army retreated back to Pella.

  The next day, the army encamped on safe ground and held an assembly. The Macedonian army was composed of the nobles and free men of the country and in effect was its governing body. The leaders of the army hailed Perdiccas' son as the new king. He was but a baby, and Philip was chosen as regent to rule for him.

  Suddenly Philip found himself the acting King of Macedon. He was leader of the Army that had been defeated by the neighboring Illyrians, who would certainly return after the winter to invade and possibly conquer Macedon.

  Philip was intelligent and strong-willed and would show that he was worthy of the throne. During his years in Thebes, he became familiar with Greek methods, their strengths and weaknesses. He had studied the organization of the Persians and the campaigns of the Greeks. Over the winter following the army's defeat, Philip trained the infantry and cavalry in new tactics. He was a strict disciplinarian, yet inspired a loyalty from his troops. You would have to earn respect from the older officers.

  In the summer, they met the Illyrians again in battle, and this time completely destroyed them. They would not be a threat again.

  Thebes' brief hegemony under Epaminondas had ended with his death, and Athens, Sparta, and Thebes had fought to a stalemate. Macedon’s new king used this lull in Greek politics to forge the army that he would use to further his ambitions. He had seen how weak and divided Greece was. He would unify it and invade Asia.

  He developed a radically new army and strategy. He formed his fighters in two ranks sixteen deep, as opposed to the normal Greek line of 6 to 8 ranks. He called this a phalanx, and it presented an impenetrable wall of long spears to the enemy. Philip’s second component was a large cavalry, known as "The Companions". His strategy was for the phalanx to pin the enemy down, while the cavalry attacked from the flanks, with the hapless enemy between the two. Whereas the object of Greek strategy was to break the enemy front and pursue it, Philip's object was to destroy the enemy on the battlefield.

  He led his new army in several battles against Macedon's neighbors, extending and strengthening its borders. Each new battle proved the courage, cunni
ng, and brilliance of Philip. The leaders of the country put aside his young nephew, and crowned Philip King. He was twenty-three. He decided he would put his strong ambition to practice.

  Philip was not a general who commanded from the rear. He fought with his men. "I lead by example," he told his officers. "How will my men fight with the courage and discipline that I demand of them, if I don’t share it?"

  "True, Sire", said one of the older generals, "but you can eat better than they. You could have more meat and finer wine. After all, you are the king."

  "I am the king, by virtue of my leadership and example. I have the love and loyalty of my men because I share their food and hardship during our campaigns. They also love me because of these." He pulled up his tunic and showed the scars of battles on his torso and limbs. "Don't speak to me of good food and drink. We will have those, and more than enough, when we celebrate our victories." He laughed and took another gulp of wine.

  After a battle in northern Thrace, an officer brought news to Philip. "The enemy has been crushed."

  "It was a good day, thank the gods" Philip said. He took off his helmet as a young man helped him remove his breastplate, covered with splattered blood. The teenager was a son of one of the officers and served as a squire until he was old enough for battle.

  After they returned to Pella the army celebrated its victory. Philip with his officers filled the great hall in the palace. They ate and drank and laughed until it seemed their bellies wouldn't take any more.

  The men shared the excitement of battle, reciting episodes of courage, sacrifice, and bloodshed. Some of the younger men started to throw food, until a senior officer called them down.

  Then the king stood up on his raised dais and spoke in his wine-hoarse voice above the din. "I propose a drinking contest for my generals, and I will join them. The man who can hold the most wine before vomiting or passing out will win this golden goblet that we took from our enemy." He held up the heavy, jewel-encrusted cup for all to see.

  Cheers and laughter filled the room, as the men drank one cup of wine after another. The officers laid bets on who would win. They staggered and spilled wine and some passed out or left to vomit. Philip was enjoying the rowdiness, laughing and urging on the others. After a time five men were left including the king. He stood up, weaving and holding onto the table. "I will add another prize to the contest," he announced over the commotion. He turned to a servant, "Bring in the girl."