Soldier of the mist l-1

by Gene Wolfe

  "Pasicrates is a fine young man, and a faithful servant of the goddess."

  "As I am. If I have displeased her-"

  "You will be punished."

  When Gorgo said that, there was a silence that stretched so long that it became unbearable. At last Io asked, "Is this where the boys get whipped?"

  "Yes, child." One corner of the priestess's mouth lifted by the width of a grain of wheat. "In this city, we girls receive much the same education as the boys, but we are spared that. Here food is placed upon the altar, and the older men stand where you are standing, and on the portico outside, and as far as the sacred precinct of the temple reaches. The boys must dash past them and take the food, then dash past again; they are beaten as they run. See the stains their blood has left on our floor? Thus they learn what women already know: that without women there is no food for men. Because they are beaten that day, they can never forget. There is a statue of the goddess at Ephesos with a hundred breasts. The lesson is the same."

  Pasicrates was waiting for us when we left the temple.

  "My slave said you had gone out to see the sights," he told us. "This is the first most visitors want to see."

  Drakaina asked, "And are there others?"

  "We do not have the wealth of Tower Hill," Pasicrates conceded as he led us away, "and yet our city is not without interest. The well I am about to show you is known these days in every civilized land."

  "Really?" She smiled at him; her sharply angled face gave her smiles a disturbing quality. "Is it like the one at Hysiai, that inspires all who drink to prophesy?"

  "No," Pasicrates replied. He hesitated. "I was on the point of saying it isn't a magic well at all. Except that now that I think on it, it does have power, and power of a sort you might find particularly interesting. It changes men to women."

  Io said, "It seems like everybody's turning against you, even the Huntress."

  Drakaina looked so angry that I feared for Io, though she faced up to it as bravely as any child could.

  Pasicrates said, "What's this? Tell me, little girl."

  "Latro says the goddess is mad at her. Sometimes Latro sees things other people don't. Sometimes he sees the gods; and talks to them, too."

  "How interesting. I should have asked you more about him when we met. Foolishly, I wasted my time with one Eurykles. Latro, what did you see?"

  "Only that she gave Drakaina a look of fury, just as Drakaina looked at Io a moment ago."

  "And it's Orthia who sends sudden death to women. What a pity you're not a man, Drakaina. Is that your true name, by the way?"

  She feigned not to hear him.

  "She is also the protector of young beasts and of children," Pasicrates told Io. "Did you know that? Our boys pray to her before they are beaten, and dedicate the end of their childhood to her. Yet she favors girls more. It goes ill with anyone who harms a girl here, unless he is high in her favor."

  I said, "It will go ill with anyone who hurts Io, while I live."

  Pasicrates nodded. "You might well be the instrument of her justice. So might I."

  We had been strolling through the city as we talked; when nothing more was said for a time, I ventured to ask about the houses, saying it seemed strange to me to see so many windows in a city of his people.

  "Ah, but you've been in Thought, even if you don't remember it. There they think about being robbed. We don't. We're too poor, and there's little here to buy." He smiled. "But here's the well. Look down. You'll find it worth seeing."

  Io dashed ahead and pulled herself up by the coping to peer into the depths. "Skeletons!" she called.

  When Pasicrates arrived he seated himself on it beside her. "Are bones all you see, little Io? Surely there is something more."

  "Just mud and water."

  "Yes, earth and water. You see, I am a knowledgeable guide. I brought you here at noon, when the sun shines far enough down for you to see the bottom. It's not a very deep well. Perhaps that's why it went dry, or nearly dry. Drakaina, don't you want to look?"

  I peered inside. As Pasicrates had indicated, the sun reached more than halfway to the bottom and lent light enough to show the rest. Three black-bearded men were penned there. They had heavy gold bracelets on their arms, and their golden sword hilts were set with many gems. One gripped his wrist, his face twisted in agony; one covered his face with his hands; one wept, face upturned, and extended his hands to me.

  Pasicrates said, "The Great King sent his ambassadors here, demanding earth and water in token of our submission. They were bold men when they came, but frightened women when we threw them in to get them for themselves. You should have heard them scream. Drakaina, I think you'd better look. I won't push you." He slid from the coping and strode away.

  Io said softly, "I thought he liked the Great King."

  "He's jealous," Drakaina snapped. "The regent prefers me. Latro will find that understandable, though perhaps you won't. When we went into the temple, you asked where I got the coin I offered. Prince Pausanias gave it to me, as he's given me other things. Do you like this gown?" Her hand caressed the crimson fabric. "It's moth's spinning, brought from the end of the earth; once it belonged to a noble lady of Susa."

  "It's beautiful," Io said with honest admiration. "But now that you're speaking to me again, will you tell me how you explained to the regent? You were a man the first time he saw you, and you're a woman now, and he's not like Latro."

  "I told him the truth-that the goddess had given me my desire. It hasn't reduced his esteem for me, believe me."

  "Watch out," Io said. "She's liable to take it back."

  Drakaina shook her head, and it seemed to me that she was hearing someone other than Io. "I feel I've lived a long, long time," she said. "And that I've been what I am since the first stars took shape."

  Afterward we idled about the city; but nothing more was said that I think worth recounting, save that Drakaina remarked that I had given her a slave some time ago. When I asked what had become of him, she said he was dead.

  We watched naked women run and throw the discus, which Io thought disgusting, and saw the barracks where the Rope Makers sleep. After that we returned to this hill fortress in the center of the city, stopping for a time to watch slaves at work upon the tomb of Leonidas. This was in the village called Pitana, which stands close beside the hill. I do not know what the name may mean. Perhaps "legion." A least Io says there is a mora of that name in the regent's army.

  Here in the fortress I write as I do, catching the fading light of the sun as it shines through the embrasure. Drakaina has just come to say this day will be our last in Rope.

  PART IV

  CHAPTER XXXIII-Through This Shadowed Gorge

  Dark Acheron cuts the rocks like a knife, at last plunging into the earth on its way to the Lands of the Dead. Nowhere else are they so near the living; nowhere else are they so readily summoned-so says Drakaina, who is even now preparing for the ceremony. As I watch, Prince Pausanias himself digs the votive pit, while Io feeds ferns to the black lamb and black ewe lamb he will sacrifice. Pasicrates and I have dipped jars of water from Acheron and unloaded the mule, which carried honey, milk, wine, and the other needful things. I am writing this because Io says I have neglected to write for too long; and indeed when I read what I had written last, I saw that we had been in Rope, which the young men of the prince's bodyguard speak of as a place very far away.

  But also because I do not wish to lose all recollection of the dream I had last night. It was of a ship, a round-bellied trader with a white swan at its stern, a broad, striped mainsail, and an angled foremast. I opened a hatch on deck and went below to a cavern, where a lovely queen and a grim king sat thrones of black stone amid the smell of death. Three dogs barked, and the queen said, "He passes. His message fulfills… "

  There was more that I have forgotten. When I told Io of the ship, she said it was the one in which we came here. If that is so, some part of me retains the memory, though I cannot recall it. Surely
that is a good sign. It may be I will find my past soon, perhaps even here among these damp and frowning rocks. Pausanias has completed his pit, and Pasicrates winds dark garlands of hemlock and rue about the lambs. There are chaplets of herbs for us.

  It came, and I saw it! Drakaina poured libations of milk, honey, sweet wine, and water, and strewed the ground with barley meal. She held the lambs while Prince Pausanias pronounced the invocation: "Royal Agids come! Advise me, and I will make your tombs places of pilgrimage and sacrifice for the entire world. Should I seek peace or war? Was my dream true, that said this slave would bring me victory? How shall I know it? Come! Speak! You I love in death as in life." Though his hand shook, he took up his sword and struck off the heads of the black lamb and the black ewe lamb so that their blood streamed into the pit; releasing their flaccid bodies, Drakaina began a chant in a tongue unknown to me.

  At once the rock behind her split, and there came forth a king in armor, with a bloodstained knife in his hand, bleeding limbs, and a lolling head. He was terrible to behold, but he knelt and drank the vapors from the pit as a shepherd drinks from a spring; as he drank, his wounds ceased to bleed and he appeared almost a living man-not handsome, for his face had been scarred by wine as well as the knife, yet having such an air of command as few possess. Drakaina fell in a fit, her mouth gaping and rimmed with foam. From it there issued a man's voice, as swift and hard as the crack of a lash.

  "Nephew, seek peace and not death. Nor drink from the blue cup of Lethe. Ask who will make the fortress yield, To those that fought at Fennel Field."

  At the final word Drakaina gave a great cry; and the stone, which had closed, opened again to receive the dead king. In his train now walked an attendant, a lean, fantastically dressed man with disordered hair. Drakaina was weak and sick when they were gone. She crawled to drink the milk left from the libations.

  The prince drew a deep breath; his forehead was beaded with sweat. "Was it good? Who'll provide the exegesis?" He wiped his hands on his chiton. "Pasicrates, who spoke to me?"

  Pasicrates looked to Drakaina. Receiving no help from her, he ventured, "Your royal uncle, perhaps, King Cleomenes. Only he perished-" Pasicrates hesitated, then finished weakly, "By seeking death."

  "By his own hand, you mean. You may say so. He desecrated the sacred lands of the Great Goddess and her daughter when he marched to Advent. The nature of his punishment is common knowledge. What of the second line?"

  "He warns you against the wine that drove him mad, and so by implication against offending the gods as he did. You asked three questions, Highness. It seems to me the first two lines of your royal uncle's verse answer your first two questions. You are to seek peace, and you are to trust your dream, because to distrust it would be an offense to the gods."

  "Very good." Pausanias nodded. "And those who fought at Fennel Field are the shieldmen of Thought, who are now besieging the fortified city of Sestos. Cleomenes fought them, twice invading the Long Coast. I should aid them instead-seeking peace with Thought now, that I may better seek peace with Persepolis later. So Cleomenes seems to be saying."

  "Highness, you asked how you might know whether your dream was truly from the gods. King Cleomenes urges you to ask who will make a fortress yield to the men of Thought. Why not send a token force from your retinue to Sestos? They say it's the strongest place in the world; if it falls, you'll know your dream was the true speech of the Maiden. If it doesn't, it will be a failure for Thought and not for us. That seems to me to be your royal uncle's advice, sir, and I see no flaw in it."

  Pausanias's face twisted in its scarred smile. "Yes, the risks will be small, and the People of Thought will take it as a friendly gesture, a personal gesture on my part, since Leotychides has withdrawn. The aristocratic party there, particularly, will take it so. Xanthippos commands." He chuckled. "And you wouldn't exactly object to leading a hundred of my heroes on a new Trojan War, would you, Pasicrates? Or should I say, swift-footed Achilles? It will be a glorious adventure, one in which a man might win considerable reputation."

  Pasicrates looked at his feet. "I will stay or go, as my strategist commands."

  "You'll go, then, and keep your eyes open." The prince wiped his sword on his cloak.

  I said, "And I, Highness. I must go with him."

  Io protested, "Master, we might get killed!"

  "You don't have to," I told her. "But I do. If the gods say I bring the regent victory, I must be with his standard."

  "Here's your first volunteer, Pasicrates. Will you take him?"

  Pasicrates nodded. "Highness, I'd like to take all three. Latro for the reason he just gave: the test won't be valid without him. The child to care for him, and the sorceress because it may be desirable to… ah… "

  "Arrange terms of surrender." The prince rose.

  "Exactly, Highness."

  "All right, then. It will make things easier for me at home anyway-Gorgo doesn't like her."

  When the winding mountain paths had brought us here again, the regent ordered his bodyguard to form the phalanx; this bodyguard consists of three hundred unmarried men chosen by himself. "Shieldmen of Rope," he began. "Rope Makers! Hear me! You know of the glorious victory of Mycale. There's not a man among us who doesn't wish he had been there. Now word has reached me that our allies, jealous of our glory, were not content with that victory. When our ships set out for home, they remained across the Water, and they have laid siege to the Great King's city of Sestos!"

  Though the young soldiers stood rigidly at attention, there was a stir among them, like the stirring of a wood that hears far off the thunder of the storm.

  "When we return, I intend to tell the judges we should send an army to aid them-but what if Sestos falls before it arrives? You know how we were late to Fennel Field. You have heard, I imagine, that the men of Thought are claiming credit for the victory at Peace. I ask you, shall we let them say they took Sestos alone?"

  Three hundred voices roared, "No!"

  "And I too say no!" The regent paused; the young men waited, tense and expectant. "All of you know Pasicrates, and you know he has my entire confidence. Pasicrates, step out here!"

  Pasicrates left the first line of the phalanx to stand beside the regent, and even to me he looked a young hero in his bright armor.

  "Pasicrates will lead a hundred volunteers to Sestos. Those who do not wish to volunteer, remain in ranks. Volunteers! Step forward and join Pasicrates!"

  The formation surged forward as one man. "He'll choose," the regent shouted. "Pasicrates, choose your hundred!"

  A moment ago, Io asked what I was writing about. "About the choosing of the hundred volunteers," I told her.

  "What about what we did in the gorge, killing the black lambs?"

  I told her I had already written about that.

  "Do you think it was really real? That King Cleomenes talked through Drakaina?"

  "I know it was," I said. "I saw him."

  "I wish you'd touched him. Then I could have seen him too."

  I shook my head. "He would have frightened you." I described him to her, dwelling on the horror of his wounds.

  "I've seen a lot. You don't remember all I've seen. I saw you kill the Rope Makers' slaves, and I saw Kekrops after the sea monster killed him. Do you think Pasicrates understood what Cleomenes said?"

  Drakaina sat up at that. "Do you remember? What was it?"

  "Don't you know? You said the words."

  "No," Drakaina told her. "I was not I who spoke. I remember nothing."

  Io recited the four lines as I have given them and added, "I don't think Pasicrates was right. I think Cleomenes wanted a real peace, and not for the regent to send men to Sestos. That was what he meant when he said the regent should ask who took the fortress. If he didn't send men, he wouldn't know."

  Drakaina said, "He meant no one would take it. I've seen Sestos, and believe me, what they say is true-it's the strongest place on earth. People talk of the walls of Babylon, but they are gapped to
let the river through. That was how the People from Parsa took it the first time. Sestos has no such weakness. As for seeking peace, Cleomenes knows that Demaratus, the true heir to the younger crown of Rope, is one of the Great King's advisers. He naturally hopes for an agreement that will leave the Agids the elder crown and give Demaratus the younger. If such an agreement had been struck two years ago, the whole war might have been prevented."

  I asked if she was feeling better.

  "Yes, thank you. Weak, but as though I'll be stronger than ever when I'm no longer weak. Do you know what I mean?" She cupped her full breasts and caressed them, savoring delights to come. "Something in me knows the best part of this life still lies ahead."

  Io asked, "Just how many lives do you have? And is there a spring where you take a bath to get back your virginity?"

  Drakaina smiled at her. Her lovely face looks hungry when she smiles. "Don't flutter too close, little bird of joy, or you'll sing a different song."

  Io seated herself at my feet. "You may be the bird who has to learn a new tune, Drakaina. Prince Pausanias likes you, but we're going with Pasicrates, and he hates you."

  "Because I came between him and the regent-quite literally, as it happens. When the regent's a hundred leagues away, things will be different; you'll see." With such fluid grace as few women possess, Drakaina rose. "In fact, I think I'll have my first chat with the noble Pasicrates now. He'll be the one who assigns us space on the ship, I suppose. I want the captain's cabin. Would you care to bet I don't get it?" From the sheen of her dark hair and the grace of her swaying figure, it seemed likely enough she would.

  When she was out of sight, Io made a face. "I think if somebody sliced her up the way you said Cleomenes was, she'd wiggle till sunset."

  I did not want to punish Io, but I told her I thought that an ugly thing for a child to say, even though Drakaina's name was "she-dragon."

  "It used to be Eurykles of Miletos," Io told me. "I know you don't remember, Latro, but it was. Eurykles was a man, and when we lived with Kalleos, sometimes he spent the whole night in her room. Drakaina says he changed himself into her by magic. I didn't like Eurykles much, but I liked him a whole lot better than Drakaina. And if you ask me she changed him into her, somehow."