Princess Myrtle resumed her daily trips to Nereid's small temple. As before, instruction began at midday and continued to dusk. Nereid introduced the princess to Dionysus and the cult that surrounded his worship. Dionysus was popular with common Greeks and Epirotes. He gave them hope of a rebirth after death and a better life than the one they presently endured. Myrtle embraced the god immediately. Was this not a way out of the life of misery that women suffered?
Over the weeks and months that followed, Myrtle learned that Dionysus was the god of the grape, of wine, of the unity of god and man, and of death and resurrection. He was the god of nature's fecundity and was frankly sexual. For the first time, Myrtle saw a large stone phallus that was the god's emblem. This profoundly affected the sexual awakening of the adolescent girl. Surely, she thought, here was the richness that was so glaringly absent from the stern Olympian gods, ruled by Zeus.
Nereid taught the princess that the Greeks originally called the deity Zagreus, the horned child. Zagreus had been born out of a sexual union between Zeus and his daughter Persephone. Zagreus was much loved by Zeus and occupied a seat beside him on the throne of heaven. But jealous Hera conspired with the rival Titans to kill Zagreus. Zeus, attempting to protect his most favored son, changed him into a goat, then into a bull. The Titans captured Zagreus. His body was dismembered and then boiled in a caldron. Fortunately, for the downtrodden of the earth, Athena saved Zagreus' heart and gave it to Zeus. The king of gods gave the heart to Semele, who impregnated herself with it and gave Zagreus a second birth. This resurrected god was named Dionysus.
"Proof of the existence and power of Dionysus is seen each year in nature," Nereid taught. "Zagreus, like the grape vine, is a child of the earth. When the annual rains come, the earth is fertilized, just as Zeus fertilized his daughter, Persephone. Man has learned to cut the vine through annual pruning, just as Zagreus' body was cut. This is necessary so that new life will return to the vine. The juice of the grape is then boiled to make wine. Thus, it was with Zagreus."
Myrtle grasped immediately the message that her tutor presented. This clearly must be the true meaning of life. So much of nature attested to its validity. Few grapes grew on the high plateau that was Dodona, but many beautiful mountain flowers, plants, and trees did. Animals abounded and were renewed each year, despite men's incessant hunting of them. Nature's annual renewal gave proof to the astonishing wisdom that Nereid related to her. She was filled with a sense of enlightenment and longed to experience the resurrecting ceremony described in Nereid's message.
"What am I to do with this knowledge, Nereid?" she asked. "How can I understand more of Dionysus and become one of his worshipers?"
"Soon, child, your chance will come. Each spring, when the grapevine and nature's flowers burst into blossom, there's a celebration of Dionysus' followers. Women and girls like you journey into the hills around Dodona. Experienced women worshipers called maenads lead them. Only then can you understand the joy of following him."
Spring arrived at last, and the day of the great Dionysia came. Myrtle had waited impatiently for the important celebration and was filled with innocent anticipation. Nereid dressed her in a white peplos. Garlanded about her head were wild flowers, and in her hand she carried an ivy-covered wand. Myrtle and each celebrant carried small phalli, which they frequently held above their heads. Some women in the procession carried small, nonpoisonous snakes in baskets. Many snakes crawled out of the baskets and entwined themselves around the arms and necks of the women. Myrtle recalled her vivid snake-dream, the night she had almost ended her life in Epirus. She smiled a secret smile, knowing that her life was predestined.
At the head of the procession were maenads, who sang beautiful songs and played lyres. An enormous, clay phallus was carried on the shoulders of two of the celebrants. Its shank was skin-colored. The tip was painted a medium red. Somehow, tufts of black hair had been affixed above the organ. Myrtle couldn’t take her eyes off of it when she first joined the procession. She looked around and smiled. The atmosphere was festive and joyful. How wonderful.
The procession made its way up into the hills surrounding Dodona to meet the reborn Dionysus. He was everywhere: in the flowers that lined the paths, in the delicate new green leaves, in newborn animals. The earth, through Dionysus, had emerged from the death of winter and each celebrant inhaled the miracle that surrounded her.
Finally, the revelers arrived at a large, primitive encampment that was little more than a clearing in the dense trees. The mountain forest was dark and musty. Myrtle inhaled deeply and took in the forest air. She knew that it was more than air that she was breathing.
Soon, maenads called the women together. “Stand in a circle,” an older maenad commanded. “Hold hands with your sisters.
Other maenads walked to the circle center and served a deep, robust red wine to each celebrant. Myrtle drank the wine and knew that it was the blood of Dionysus. She was enthralled. The women drank the wine, and then started dancing with wild abandon. Flute-playing maenads joined the ceremony. Soon, their music was leading the women into a state of near ecstasy. Most of the revelers danced, sang, and drank themselves into a trance-like frenzy. They then collapsed, to be helped up by older women, unable to sustain the physical activity that produced the group hysteria.
Myrtle, although a willing reveler through drink, song, and dance, didn't experience the contagious emotional release that most of the other females did. She observed it, she studied it, and she absorbed it. What was the strange power that produced this joy in these women? Never in her young life had she even heard of such behavior by women. For the first time, she saw her sex set free. They were free to express aspects of their person that were constantly suppressed in the male-dominated Epirote society. She understood the value of the religious joy that came from the celebration for herself and the other women. But something else was happening. This celebration was to be her wedge. This phenomenon represented her chance to realize her hopes. Zeus himself had spoken to her. The full meaning of his message was still veiled, but now, through Dionysus, she was being given a way to pursue her goal.
The ceremony became more frenetic as the maenads ascended to another level of celebration. She halfheartedly joined them, but her behavior was tempered by her intellect and her royal heritage. Aspects of her life-quest slowly started to coalesce. The gods clearly had a mission for this Epirote princess.
The ceremony reached its peak when three maenads brought a goat to a crude wooden altar at the center of the clearing. One maenad cut the goat's throat. A second woman drained the blood into a large amphora that contained uncut wine. The third one began skinning the carcass and slicing large chunks of raw meat from it. In commemoration of the dismemberment of Dionysus by the Titans, the celebrants drank the blood mixed with wine and ate the raw goat flesh. Everyone knew, as Myrtle had only recently been taught, that through this communion, Dionysus himself would enter their bodies. Through this act, they became one with him; they were assured eternal life. In a small, human way, they had become gods.
Myrtle drank only a sip of the blood-wine and ate a small piece of the goat meat. As she drank and ate, a transformation came over her. From this moment on she knew that she would never die. Whatever destiny lay before her, she would be allowed to complete her life quest.
The message from Zeus had given her an answer that only served as a distant guidepost, a goal to be attained eventually. The resurrecting glory of Dionysus had given her the immortality that she needed to achieve it.
Princess Myrtle of Epirus now knew her way.
Like two other youths—one in Macedonia, one in Thebes—she awaited her opportunity.
CHAPTER 6
Increasingly, Philip was told more about political events in Macedon and Greece. He had frequent audiences with Epaminondas. Philip thought that the Theban leader had become obsessed with teaching him the role he should play if he were allowed to return to his homeland. Philip dismissed these sessions as little
more than Theban political indoctrination. Yet the meetings served to lessen his isolation, which had now lasted two years. The teenager knew, too, that there was much to learn from a man like Epaminondas.
He not only received direction from the re-elected boeotarch of Thebes, but also was required to attend every session of the Theban assembly. Epaminondas insisted he learn how Theban democracy worked. The impression this made on Philip was opposite from what Epaminondas intended. Philip compared the highly centralized government of Macedon, under a near absolute king, with Thebes's model. The so-called democracy of the Greek political units resulted in constant bickering and petty machinations. Political parties worked against each other, rarely finding common purposes. Philip started to understand that Greek democracy resulted in a weakened central executive who was forced to undergo regular reelections. The city-states were often unable to make quick decisions when military, social, or political demands presented themselves. The current actions of Athens were a prime example of this.
The young prince also realized that what other Greeks thought to be political, cultural, and social backwardness of barbaric Macedon might, in the tangled confusion of the Greek city-states, be an advantage. No Macedonian king ever had to undergo annual elections; he had only to dominate and placate a few important provincial tribal families and honor ancient Macedonian law. He began to realize that effective, long-term planning was nearly impossible in Thebes, given the fickle nature of the voting assembly. Even great leaders like Epaminondas were voted out of office after a year of service, only to be brought back to solve some national crisis.
But after months of attending the Theban assembly, Philip tired of hearing the same incessant rhetoric. Theban citizens liked to make speeches and perform for their Pythagorean teachers as much as solve real problems. Yet, all he could do was feign interest in the democratic display. Intuitively, Philip began to realize that a crucial moment of his captivity was approaching. After a particularly long and tedious assembly session, he was summoned to Epaminondas and Pelopidas. Both men were cordial, as he entered a private meeting room.
"Come, sit with us, Philip," said Epaminondas. "We have much to tell you."
Philip joined the two leaders and sat down. He glanced at Pelopidas and then turned to Epaminondas, waiting what he thought would be a long monologue.
"Great changes are sweeping Greece and your homeland," Epaminondas began. "We've told you practically nothing about these events. The time has come for you to know everything and end your Theban captivity. We have decided that you will be released soon."
Philip’s spirit soared and he smiled a broad smile. It was the first time he expressed happiness since he had been brought to Thebes. He seemed to grow half a cubit right before his captor's eyes. Something ancient in his Macedonian soul stirred as he awaited the next words of Epaminondas.
"Your brother has taken matters into his own hands. He assassinated Ptolemy of Alorus ten days ago. Having come of age, he felt it was his Macedonian right. We're sure that Athens had a hand in these events, but that's another matter. I'm sure that Eurydice is experiencing confused emotions. Her lover is dead, but her son, Perdiccas, is now king of Macedon."
Philip was surprised and pleased, not afraid to show it for the first time in his captivity. Epaminondas, Pelopidas, and Pammenes had ensured that no clandestine communication was ever allowed between him and his family. He realized now how complete his isolation had been.
Pelopidas stood and spoke for the first time. "I'll make this next point clear, Philip. Thebes feels that Macedon is in grave danger of falling under Athenian influence. We've aided your country, guaranteeing a period of peace while Ptolemy was in power. Indirectly, we even prevented him from killing Perdiccas. Athens was kept out of northern Greece. Now her naval power threatens Macedonia's shores."
"We understand your brother's desires to control his territory," said Epaminondas. "Yet he is in danger of having Macedon become a client state in a new Athenian confederacy. Athens will bleed you and use your country's natural wealth to serve her needs. You've learned much while in our city. We now ask you to influence your brother and tell him of our friendship. Your royal line will not be furthered by falling to Athens."
Philip assessed his captor's remarks. He was required to give them the answers they wanted, or his release would be endangered. Yet, too obsequious a response would make them doubt his sincerity. Philip felt a bead of sweat trickle down his temple. He paused, took a deep breath, and chose his words carefully. "These events are a complete surprise to me. You've kept me ignorant of my family and country. Therefore, I have difficulty judging what to say. You tell me that Thebes wants friendly relations with Macedon. I'm sure that you are sincere. We too have reason to fear domination of Athens or any other Greek state. But I've learned while a captive here that my country is backward compared to the advances Greeks have made. My counsel to my brother, if I'm allowed to return, will be to focus our energies on making Macedonia a more cultured country, friendly not only to Thebes, but to all our Greek brothers."
It was a lame response, but it was the best one he could think of. Secretly, he thought he knew how Macedon could eventually dominate not only Thebes, but also all the Greek city-states. But now was a time for placation, not candor. Epaminondas and Pelopidas wanted to hear that he would have a pro-Theban influence on his brother. He hoped that his reaction met enough of their needs that his release had not been threatened.
Epaminondas rolled his eyes upwards and cleared his throat. "Your reaction was measured and anticipated. You've learned political posturing while a captive here. Yet, you know our desires; you know what we consider important for Macedon. Take the message back to your brother and work to improve your homeland. Pelopidas will explain your travel plans. I leave you to the adventure that is the rest of your life. Perhaps something will come of you and your offspring."
Epaminondas left the room without a farewell or even a glance back at his captive. Philip wondered if he would ever see the great leader again as guards escorted him away. He had changed because of his contact with the Theban general, yet there was little nostalgia in him now that they were parting. A new life awaited him—with his own kind.
Philip left Thebes four days later. He was escorted north through Thessaly to the Macedonian frontier. His Sacred Band hoplites left him there. Across a small, muddy river on the Macedonian side of the border, the prince saw several of his kinsmen. They looked disheveled, almost dirty, compared to his groomed Theban appearance. That mattered little and he roared with laughter when he recognized several members of the royal court who had come to escort him.
"Come across the river, you sissy Theban," yelled one of Philip's oldest boyhood friends.
"Portius," Philip yelled back and plunged his mount into the deep water to join his Macedonian escort.
They dismounted, and gave each other bear hugs, as they jokingly grabbed each other’s genitals. It was a reunion with his kinsmen for the first time in nearly three years. Philip was told that he was to ride immediately to Pella, the capital city of Macedon. It was to be a forced ride, stopping only for food and a change of horses. This mattered little to Philip; he was home. He would gladly ride straight through to his capital and reunite with his brother. He thought little of his mother. Her actions both before and since his captivity had earned her little respect. She was of little importance in the tasks that lay ahead. He wondered if Perdiccas would let her live.
As the party made its way north, the liberated prince absorbed the sights and smells that were Macedonia. The landscape his party traversed was dramatically different from central Greece. His country was agrarian and rural. Cities were sparse, and most people lived on great estate farms, controlled by the oldest and most powerful tribal families. The country was divided by nature into upper and lower halves. Upper Macedonia and the primitive region called Paeonia formed a solitary geographical area of high mountain plateaus and grazing lands. They were far different from the
fertile plains of lower Macedonia. Boundless mountain ranges formed an irregular half-oval around the central plain, where both the old Macedonian capital of Aigai and the new capital, Pella, were located. The upper Macedonian highlands lay for the most part west and southwest of the central plain. In ancient times, before Philip's grandfather had subdued them, the highlands were divided into three autonomous kingdoms. Elimea lay south of the central plain, Orestis to the west and Lyncestis to the northwest, close by the shores of Lake Ochrid. Today, these regions formed what was precariously called Macedonia. Philip knew that at any moment, ancient animosities could revive and his homeland would be an easy target for a host of enemies.
The central southeastern plain, where the royal party rode, was fertile beyond Philip's memories. The countryside abounded with vines, fruit trees, and ordered farms where sheep and cattle grazed. They passed lovely meadows with copious flowers and vegetation. Wild roses in all colors dotted both sides of the road. Unlike the arid, rocky landscape of central and southern Greece, rivers were everywhere. Water was not a problem in Macedonia, and Philip rejoiced as his horse plowed through a deep tributary of the Haliacmon. After three days of almost nonstop riding, the party approached the outskirts of Pella.
Shortly after sunrise, Philip and his escort arrived at the royal palace. The scant evidence of new construction that he had seen on the fringes of Pella was intensified as he made his way to the palace, resting on a hill above Lake Loudias. The lake was a shallow, muddy, and fast-silting backwater of the Thermaic Gulf. Philip wondered if the lake would even exist when he grew old.
The returning prince looked around as they approached the palace. Dazzling new courtyards and buildings with Corinthian columns were being built. Philip welcomed these changes, but wondered what had prompted them. He climbed quickly the high steps that led to the palace and bounded into the building's inner courtyard. Royal companion guards, many of whom had trained with the prince in earlier years, greeted him as he strode the stone-mosaic walkway. Philip nearly ran as he proceeded to the main palace chamber. He imagined how he looked as he finally arrived at the center of the Macedonian nation. He knew that he gave the appearance of a young Theban invading this inner sanctum of barbaric power. Yet, the man who now approached the throne room was totally Macedonian. No one would ever doubt that. Waiting for him was his brother, Perdiccas. Beside the king was a stranger, not Macedonian, perhaps Athenian.
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