Soldier of Arete

by Gene Wolfe

  Yet I distrust King Kotys. There was fury in his eyes when he looked at me. There was triumph in my own, I think, for it was I who brought the Horses of the Sun here as Cybele commanded me, with the aid of Pharetra and the lion. There is a boy with us called Polos, who says that he helped us, too, and certainly he ran in behind the last horse, and may well have been driving it before him. Hegesistratus thinks Polos may be a spy for the Thracians; but he wishes to let him stay so that the Thracians will know that we do not violate our oath.

  It was the ceremony that interrupted my writing, but just now I read what I had written; I still recall all those things. Certainly my encounter with Cybele was more important than the capture of the sacred horses—but were not the horses captured at her command? Meeting her was more important to me, but to her it was our taking of the White Horses of the Sun, for if she had not desired it, she would not have appeared to me as she did, perhaps. Thus I should write of that, too, before I sleep.

  I have been watching the women walk to and fro before the fire, when I should have been writing. We have a big fire now, because some peasants came with more firewood, and hay and grain for the horses, and the cave is cold. One of the Amazons found iron spits in a small chamber not very far back, and she and two others are building supports for a spit so that we can roast our meat that way. Her name is Badizoe.

  Their limbs are round—how gracefully they walk!

  The lion was the first; I had not gone more than two stades from the defile where I had spoken with Cybele when he stood in my path. I knew the goddess had sent him—he was one of hers—but it was very difficult to approach him without fear. I said, "Come with me," and he walked at my heels like a dog, though I did not dare touch him. At that time I could not see the Temple of the Sun because of the trees.

  Pharetra was the second; we found her just where the trees ended and one could see the white horses on the hillside, nearer the temple. Although I did not know her name, I knew her for an Amazon by her fine bowcase and bowman's eyes. She embraced me, and I her, but she released me and backed away very quickly when she saw the lion. It was some time before I could convince her that the lion would not harm her; but I knew it would not, since both had been sent by the goddess.

  We crouched behind bushes, the lion on my left, Pharetra on my right; I asked how she came to be there, but though it seemed she understood my whispered questions, I could not always follow her replies. The mantis spoke with her when we returned, and he says that she fell from her mount in the battle and hid from the Thracians.

  She pointed to the sacred horses and sucked in her cheeks like Hippephode's, counting four fingers.

  I asked, "Your queen requires four of those white horses?" I said it because Cybele had told me that the horses were to be Hippephode's.

  Pharetra nodded, pointing to herself and me.

  I said, "You suggest that we take four and bring them to her." I spoke slowly, and when I had held up fingers to make the word "four" clear, Pharetra nodded enthusiastically.

  I shook my head, pointed to the horses, and drew a circle in the air to show that I had been instructed to bring all the horses to her queen. When Pharetra did not seem to comprehend, I counted them—twenty-five. I opened and closed my hand five times, then drew the circle again.

  She stared at me and shook her head, then shrugged.

  I was looking at the herdsmen. There were five, all noble Thracians whose bridles and persons flamed with gold. They had swords and lances, but no helmets; and only one wore armor. The question was whether to proceed against them at once or wait for the third helper Cybele had promised. I know that even the best of gods do not mean all that they say, and we were three now; it seemed possible that the third who was to help us was myself. I was going to suggest that we approach a couple of Thracian lords who appeared deep in conversation when we heard the quick triple drum taps of a cantering horse.

  It was Elata, though I did not know her then; she was the third. She rode up to us on a handsome bay colt, and the noble herdsmen saw her. Everyone rides in Thrace, so I would not have imagined that the sight of one slender girl on horseback would have alarmed them, and perhaps it did not. But one rode toward us as if to learn what she wanted.

  It might have been wiser to wait, and attack him while he suspected nothing—or even to have mounted Pharetra on the colt. Surely she would have been a lighter burden, one better suited to such a young animal. As it was, I did neither. Elata slid from the colt's back, and I leaped onto it and jabbed the colt's sides with my heels. It was foaled for a charger (I wish it were here with us now), and though it was so young and carried a man in armor, it shot toward the Thracian like a dagger from the hand; only then did I realize that Elata had been riding without reins.

  That did not really matter; the bay colt knew its business. The roaring of the lion behind it would have terrified any other horse, and perhaps the colt did not seem frightened only because it was already galloping as hard as it could. My first javelin struck the noble herdsman square in the chest and tumbled him from his saddle. The lion raced past, easily avoided the second Thracian's lance, and pulled him down.

  Pharetra was sprinting toward the sacred horses. My knees and my hand on its neck directed the colt after her; the three remaining Thracians were on the other side of the herd. Neither of us had to fight them, as it turned out. They dropped their lances and galloped away as fast as cowards can.

  I saw Pharetra mounting a milk-white mare and followed her example—exchanging the bay colt (who was slackening then) for a white stallion, the biggest of the sacred horses. For a moment I feared he might throw me off, for I did not know whether the sacred horses were ever ridden, and it would be no easy task to break a full-grown stallion of such great size; but though he was as fiery as the storm, he wished to run, not to buck. Off he flew, and the rest of the herd after him just as I had hoped. We had the last stabled here in Cybele's holy cavern long before the Thracians arrived to demand them back.

  Thus our situation is as I described when I began; we are eleven— twelve, if Polos is counted among us. Of those fit for battle, there are only seven—Hippephode, Pharetra, and two more Amazons; Hegesistratus, the black man, and me. Two other Amazons are badly wounded; Elata and Io tend them, but I do not believe either could be of service in a battle. Elata would not fight, though perhaps Io would. The boy has a sling and a little bag of stones for it; he promises to teach her the art.

  When the Thracians came, Hegesistratus discovered that the noble herdsmen who fled reported that Pleistorus took the sacred herd. (I wish we had Cybele's lion still so we could deceive them in the same way again.) Hegesistratus told them he did it because he desires that Oeobazus be given to us, and that he is angered with King Kotys because the king wants to sacrifice him to overawe the people, and not for the glory of Pleistorus. I asked Hegesistratus whether the Thracians had believed it, and he told me he thought they had.

  Just now when Io got more wood for the fire, she discovered a bundle of arrows concealed among the logs. There was a letter in the bundle, which she read aloud to us: "May the Stone favor him who does this! These cost-two owls. Europa's man may repay me. I send him greetings."

  Hippephode says that they are not very good arrows, but ten thousand times better than no arrows. All the Amazons have full bowcases now. The black man says he can use a bow; he wants to borrow that of one of the wounded Amazons; but she will not let him take it. Hegesistratus says these arrows were hidden in the wood by Cleton, a friend in Cobrys. I think that Cobrys is the chief town in this part of the world.

  I am sitting near the mouth so I can write by daylight, but not so near as to give some Thracian bowman a clear shot at me, I hope. It is time for the first meal—Io and the black man are preparing meat. Hegesistratus begs information from the gods; he fears that the king may have sacrificed Oeobazus despite his oath.

  Io came here to speak with me a few moments ago. She began by telling me that she was my slave and that sh
e had been a most faithful servant to me for nearly a year. She told me that she understood that I forget this between the setting and the rising of the sun, but she assured me that it is so.

  I told her that though I may forget, as she said and indeed as I myself sense, I knew that she was a good child and a true friend, for my heart warms whenever I see her; but that I could not believe she was my slave, because I love her too much not to have freed her.

  Then Io asked me about Elata, and from her tone I knew that she had come to the matter that truly concerned her. I thought she was afraid Elata might betray us to the king, so I said that I was certain she would not. Cybele, I explained, had promised me the help of three trustworthy allies, and these had been the lion, Pharetra, and Elata. Since Cybele wished Queen Hippephode to have the sacred horses, it was hardly likely that she would send someone who would betray us.

  "Have you asked Pharetra about Cybele's sending her? Did the goddess appear to her or anything?"

  "No," I admitted. "But Pharetra didn't mention anything of that sort when Hegesistratus asked how she had become separated from us in the battle—or if she did, Hegesistratus didn't tell me. Besides, suppose that Cybele had told her not to speak of it. We'd be putting Pharetra in an awkward position if we asked her about it."

  Io shrugged. "I guess so. What do you think about Elata otherwise? Is she an ordinary girl?"

  "Certainly not," I said. "She's much more lovely than most women. I may forget things quickly, Io, but I know that."

  "Do you want to lie with her?"

  I considered my answer. It seemed certain that a truthful reply would give Io pain; and yet I could not help feeling that lies, though told from the kindest motives, do more harm than truth. At last I said, "I suppose I'd have her if she wished it; but she's shown no sign of wanting me to, and Hegesistratus told me this morning that she's his."

  "The black man has had her," Io said.

  "If that's true, it lies between him and Hegesistratus," I told her. "I only hope it can be settled without bloodshed."

  "I don't think Hegesistratus knows. I didn't tell him."

  "Do you want me to do it?" I asked. "I wouldn't tell any man such a thing unless I'd seen it myself."

  Io shook her head.

  "Then what's the point of our talking about it? Besides, if Hegesistratus is a mantis, he has no doubt discovered it for himself. It would be very difficult to conceal unfaithfulness from a mantis."

  "I don't think he's tried to find out about that. I think he's afraid of what he might learn—like that time when you and Elata came back together in the morning."

  It had begun to rain, a light drizzle that dripped from the lips of the cave, a few steps from where we were sitting. I rolled up this scroll and tied it with the cords as I considered my reply. "Hegesistratus is a wise man, Io. He makes mistakes, no doubt, as even wise men do. But he is wise nevertheless, and I think his wisdom shows in what you have just said."

  "But do you think Elata's just a common girl? Except for being so pretty?"

  "What do you think her, Io?"

  "I don't know," Io answered.

  "Why are you so concerned about her?"

  "Because of Pharetra. You like Pharetra—I know you do."

  I admitted it. "But that doesn't mean that I don't love you, Io."

  "Well, just a few days ago, Pharetra was nearly dead. One of these barbarians had put his lance right here"—Io touched her own ribs— "and you could even see the big cut in back where the point came out. She was spitting up lots of blood, and she could hardly breathe."

  I said that I found that very hard to believe.

  "So do I," Io declared. "So do the rest of the Amazons, I think. She was hurt the first night we fought the barbarians. Then they brought us to that field where they made us camp, and we spent the next night there. The night after that was when we fought them again and you tried to steal their king."

  I shook my head to show that I had forgotten it, as I have.

  "And Hippephode didn't want Pharetra to fight, but she did. And today she was well enough to help you steal all those white horses." Io paused, her eyes upon my face.

  "Master, you were with Hegesistratus when he got Elata. I want you to look in your book and find the place. It was one night between Sestos and Pactye. Will you open your book again, and read me what you wrote then?"

  I read it to myself first, however; and when I had finished, I told Io that I wanted to consider the entire matter further. This woman Elata is a nymph, or so I wrote. If the rest do not know it, she would surely be angry if I revealed it.

  Hegesistratus says the Mede is still alive; he caught sight of him in his mirror, staring at our hill from the narrow window of the room where he is confined. Hegesistratus thinks someone has told him we are bargaining for his life. He says Cleton may have smuggled a letter to him. I wish that I could smuggle such a letter to Pharetra, but I write no tongue but this. If it were not winter, I would at least send Io with a flower, though I had to face down a hundred Thracians to get it.

  EIGHTEEN

  Pharetra Is Dead

  SHE LAY BESIDE ME WHEN Hippostizein woke me. I could just see her face in the firelight. I kissed her cheek before I rose, though she slept on.

  I think I remembered her, though I did not remember where I was, or who the people I saw sleeping nearer the fire were. The tall woman who had awakened me picked up this sword, whispering, "Guard, guard." Thus I knew that this sword is mine. I buckled it on and followed her. She led me away from the fire, through the darkness to the cave mouth, where a sentinel darker than the night stood guard. He had a long sword and a pair of javelins; when he grinned at me, I knew that we were friends. He embraced me and I him, and we wrestled for a moment.

  I asked them whether we had enemies who might try to come into the cave, first in this tongue, then in the one the woman had used. Neither understood this one, as well as I can judge, but both clearly understood the second, nodding vigorously and pointing down the road that begins at the entrance to the cave. I said that if anyone tried to enter, I would shout and wake the rest, and that seemed to satisfy them. They went back into the cave.

  I went outside and watched awhile from there, for though the night was cold, the cave was colder. It had been raining not long before; the ground was still wet, and water chuckled here and there down the rocks. When I had been outside for a long time (or at least so it seemed to me) a dog began to howl far away. Surely a man with a sword should not be afraid of a howling dog, yet I was frightened, feeling that a horrid thing stirred in the darkness. That was when I returned to the cave, wrapping myself in my cloak and standing well inside where the howling sounded very faint. Though I smelled the smoke of the fire, I was cold. I paced up and down to warm myself.

  Soon there was another step—the harsh tramp of a leather boot followed by taps that made me think of a blind man feeling his way with his staff. The man who came to the mouth was not blind, however, but crippled; he has lost a foot and walks with a crutch. He is called Hegesistratus, "Leader of the Host," but I did not know that then. He greeted me, calling me Latro, as all these people do, then went outside as I had. I did not see him again for a long time.

  At length the night covering was drawn from the world. The howling ceased, and the tall woman came again, and the woman who had slept by me with her. I touched my chest and said, "Latro?" They nodded and told me their names, Pharetra and Hippostizein, though they did not say them precisely as I have set them down. I write them as Hegesistratus and the girl say them, not having letters for the other.

  The tall woman and I went into the cave, where the children were bringing water from the depths and the lame man mixing wine in a krater. The black man handed me a cup; I recall that very well, and how I dropped the cup when Pharetra cried out, so that it smashed on the stone, splashing my boots with wine.

  She was dead when I reached her, lying beneath the bodies of peltasts. I fell on my knees, letting the Amazons and the bl
ack man rush by me while I lifted them from her; an arrow had gone through her throat. I picked her up and carried her back into the cave, though it was filled with smoke; the image of the Mother had fallen over onto the sacred hearth, its ancient, dry, paint-daubed wood burning fiercely and making too much smoke for the wind from the earth to carry away. Deeper in the cave, the horses were stamping and whinnying.

  Falcata is my sword; she split the old image like kindling. I heaped the pieces on the fire until the flames whipped in the wind and licked the stone ceiling. I took away Pharetra's sword and bowcase and laid her on the fire.

  The Thracian lords came calling for a truce; we allowed two into the cave. Hegesistratus spoke for us, telling them that we could take their lives without incurring the displeasure of the gods, because they had broken the peace made yesterday. (When I have written, I must read this and learn of that.)

  They said they had not broken it, that it still stood. The peltasts who killed Pharetra this morning did so without a lord, they said, out of the hate they feel for us; they also said that their king will punish those who live, and that he has appointed riders to protect us.

  Then they accused us of burning the holy image of Kotytto. Hegesistratus said that we did not destroy it intentionally, we having no wish to give offense to any god and having sufficient wood—no doubt it was knocked over in the excitement following the attack. He offered them silver to pay for the carving of a new image, which they accepted.

  The leader of the women spoke through Hegesistratus, saying that the sacred horses had been frightened in their dark stalls beyond the fire. Two ran and fell, as she said, and we have had to kill them.

  When they heard that, the lords of Thrace looked grave and declared that we had violated our oath. Hippephode (that is her name) became extremely angry, shouting at them in the tongue of Amazons. Hegesistratus wanted to let both return in safety to their people; but Hippephode's women seized them, putting swords to their backs.