by Hilary Green
We examined the horses together, my father taking pleasure in pointing out their good qualities. From them we turned to the chariot, which was truly worthy of the finest horses. It was inlaid with panels of ivory carved with lions and griffins, the wheels were studded with silver and the harness was of crimson leather. Once again I began to try to express my gratitude, but again he did not let me finish.
‘Don’t you want to try them out? Go along now and let them show you their paces. Anyway, I know you want to show them to Alectryon.’
I needed no further incentive and caught the reins gladly from the slave who held them. Then I remembered Neritos who still stood a little way off. I was longing to try the horses myself but after all he was the one who had trained them.
I called to him. ‘Here, Neritos. They know your hand on the reins. You drive.’
He came and mounted the chariot beside me and I handed him the reins. As I did so his eyes met mine. There was gratitude in them, but a challenge also, and I understood that he was proud. It was pride that made him hide his feelings, and pride that made him uneasy with me. I resolved that he should lose none of his self-esteem on my account.
I saluted my father and gave Neritos the word to drive on. The horses went forward easily and we headed for the town.
‘Who is Alectryon, my lord?’ he asked.
I laughed and said, ‘It’s easy to see you haven’t been long in Pylos.’
His face stiffened at once and he answered, ‘Forgive me, my lord. I have lived too far from court to know the names of the great ones.’
I said quickly, ‘I was thinking more of court gossip. Alectryon is indeed one of the greatest men in the country, but he is also my friend … and closest companion.’
He gave me a quick look but made no comment. I directed him to Alectryon’s house and added, ‘There’s no need to call me ‘my lord’. We shall be too much together from now on for formality.’
This pleased him, I thought, and he seemed to relax a little. When we reached Alectryon’s house the slave who ran out to hold the horses told me that Alectryon had not yet returned from his estate, but was expected at any minute.
‘Good!’ I said. ‘Then we shall go and meet him.’
As we headed for the road leading to the farm I said to Neritos, ‘Alectryon’s pair are almost the best in the country. If he had been racing that day you would have had more of a battle for second place.’
‘He usually wins, then?’ Neritos said.
‘Except against my father’s horses. They are unbeatable.’
When we had cleared the last of the houses Neritos leaned forward and called to the horses and they bounded ahead. I watched him and saw that his hands were light but firm on the reins, his body perfectly balanced. He glanced at me and touched the horses lightly with the whip. They increased their pace, the chariot bounding and bouncing over the irregularities in the road. As we thundered on he snatched another glance at me and I realised suddenly that he was testing my nerve. For a moment I was angry at his impudence, then I lifted my face into the wind and laughed aloud with the excitement of our speed.
At length he drew rein and we looked at each other, panting. The wind had whipped colour into his cheeks and his eyes were bright.
‘They go well!’ I said. ‘And you handle them well, too.’
He looked away, but I could tell that he was pleased. Ahead of us a cloud of dust marked the approach of another chariot. I pointed. ‘That will be Alectryon.’
As we drew closer I could see Alectryon shading his eyes, clearly puzzled by the strange chariot and driver. Then he saw me and raised his arm in salute. The two chariots came to a stop a few paces from each other and Alectryon jumped down, giving the reins to Dexeus. His horses were sweating and I could see he had given them a good gallop.
I went to meet him and he said cheerfully, ‘What is this? An important visitor from somewhere?’
I shook my head, laughing. ‘No. Guess again.’
‘I’ve no idea. Both the horses and their driver are strangers to me.’
‘Well,’ I said, ‘the horses and the chariot are mine – a gift from my father. The driver is Neritos, son of Kretheus who was Prefect of Phea until his death a few months ago. Now Neritos is to be my charioteer.’
‘Indeed!’ He looked at the chariot and its driver with closer interest. ‘I have been thinking it was time you had your own chariot and charioteer. Your father has certainly provided you with both worthy of your position. Aren’t those the chestnuts than ran so well at the games?’
‘They are,’ I agreed, ‘and Neritos drove them. Come and meet him.’
Neritos had been watching us curiously. As I presented him to Alectryon I felt a sudden twinge of anxiety. If they did not like each other it would make life very difficult. However, it was not in Alectryon’s nature to be jealous and he set himself at once to break down Neritos’s reserve. Few people could resist his charm and my new charioteer was no exception. Then he called Dexeus to come closer and introduced the two of them. Dexeus was habitually taciturn and never one to accept strangers readily, while Neritos was in no mood to take the initiative, so having exchanged formal greetings they eyed each other in silence like two strange dogs. Alectryon, however, was more interested in the horses and neither of us paid much attention to our squires.
‘They go like the wind!’ I told him. ‘How about a race back to the city?’
He laughed. ‘As you can see perfectly well, my horses are already spent. Let us go back quietly together and another day I shall be happy to accept your challenge.’
Accordingly we re-mounted our chariots and set off side by side on the broad road leading to the city. The horses went easily and Alectryon and I conversed across the small space between us. We were both so involved in our conversation that it was a little while before we realised that our speed had subtly increased and we were now spinning along briskly. I glanced at Neritos. His jaw was obstinately set and his eyes flickered backwards and forwards from the road to Dexeus. Dexeus’s face held the same grim determination. I realised what had happened. One or the other had increased his speed a little and the second, not to be out done, had urged on his horses in his turn and now neither would draw rein. Dexeus was normally steady and utterly obedient to Alectryon, so I guessed Neritos had been the original culprit. I was about to reprimand him and tell him to slow down when we rounded a curve in the road. Ahead of us, about four times the distance of a good javelin throw, the road narrowed to pass an outcrop of rock. Here only one chariot could pass at a time. As I drew breath to speak Neritos threw me a swift, challenging look and laid his whip across the horses’ backs. We plunged forward. Dexeus, on his mettle now, touched his pair also and we raced neck and neck towards the rock. I could hear Alectryon shouting at Dexeus, demanding what in the world he thought he was doing. I looked at Neritos and opened my mouth to speak, then closed it again and leaned forward, balancing myself against our speed.
It was true, I suppose, that Alectryon’s pair had already been galloped hard, but even so I felt a surge of triumph as we drew ahead. They kept close on our heels but there was no question of who was going to be first through the narrow gap.
On the far side the road widened again and I said, as sternly as I could, ‘Stop here, Neritos.’
He drew the horses to a standstill and looked at me under his brows, daring me to rebuke him. I was angry at his disobedience but exhilarated by our success and as I looked at him I remembered his face set in grim determination not to give an inch. So what had begun as a reprimand turned suddenly to a snort of laughter. He looked at me, grinned, put the back of his hand across his mouth to conceal it, and then laughed with me.
Dexeus, meanwhile, had brought his chariot to a standstill nearby and Alectryon was standing with his arms folded, gazing in exasperation from one of us to the others. Dexeus hung his head and scowled. Neritos and I strove to contain our laughter.
Alectryon said, ‘Dexeus, that is the first tim
e you have ever disobeyed me. I am very angry with you. As for you, Neritos, if you wish to drive like a maniac don’t do it in future when you have the heir to the throne as your passenger. And you …!’ His eyes turned to my face. I looked back at him, biting my lip. ‘You are as bad as the other two!’ But he had dissolved into laughter himself before the words were out of his mouth.
When we had sobered a little he went on, ‘Very well, since you two can’t be trusted with the Prince you can both return to the city in my chariot and I will drive him.’
Accordingly he got up beside me and Neritos went off with bad grace to join Dexeus.
‘What a pity,’ I said softly as we started off again. ‘They are going to dislike each other.’
Alectryon chuckled. ‘Not they! They are two of a kind, however different on the surface. Leave them alone and they’ll have come to terms by the time we reach the city. Why do you think I put them together?’
He was right, as usual, and by the time we reached his house they had both ceased to scowl We separated and Neritos and I drove on towards the palace. Alectryon had commented on the way home that I should make it clear to Neritos who was in charge, and now my new charioteer was glancing sideways at me as if expecting a reprimand. I waited until we had almost reached the gates and then said, ‘Neritos, I enjoyed our little triumph as much as you did, but in future we race when I say so. You understand me?’
He looked rebellious, caught my eye and changed his expression. ‘Very well.’ Then, a moment later, as if it had cost him a struggle to speak the words, ‘I’m sorry.’
I devoted a good deal of time and attention after that to winning Neritos’s confidence. It was some days before his real character became evident, but I had guessed at it and my father gave me a further hint in a few private words a day or two later. He asked how he was settling down and, receiving a favourable report, nodded with satisfaction and added, ‘He came, as I told you, highly recommended for many qualities. But there is one thing for which he is criticised which I did not mention in front of him - an excess of youthful daring, a rashness that often leads him into trouble. You must help him outgrow that.’
I looked into those inscrutable eyes and wondered if my father ever did anything without at least a double motive.
At first it seemed strange to have Neritos constantly at my shoulder, then I began to wonder how I had managed without him. He learned his duties quickly and, once he discovered that he was not treated like a servant, performed them willingly. He was also ready to fight my battles for me and took an instant and passionate dislike to Antilochos. I confided to him my fears about the intentions of the Dorians and we spent a good deal of time training the horses for war as well as for racing. We exercised together with the other young men of the court and he soon proved himself as an athlete. He was a great wrestler and I think the discovery that he could throw me three times out of four did more than anything to reconcile him to his position.
Before long my father sent me as his representative to visit Leuktron, the capital of the Further Province. I went with a good deal of inner trembling, knowing that his object was to establish me in the hearts and minds of the great men of the land as the true and only heir, and afraid that I might fall short of their expectations. However, I found myself received with respect and kindness and began, little by little, to grow in confidence in my ability to deal with people. From then on my father began to use me increasingly on official business, sometimes in the city itself, where I found myself not only taking an increasing part in the rituals of the Gods but also hearing disputes and passing judgements: sometimes on missions to other towns up and down the country. When he could Alectryon came with me, but he had his duties too and his own household to administer, so increasingly I travelled with Neritos and a small retinue of the Royal Guard.
Wherever I went I was alert to the faintest rumour of discontent and whenever I detected it I used all my powers to find the cause and remove it. After a little I learned with delight that the word was going about that Prince Alkmaion dealt justly with high and low. On the whole it seemed that most people, particularly the land-holders and the officials appointed by the palace, were content enough so long as they were not required to do more than perform their duties, pay their taxes and enjoy their lands in peace. Time and again I heard the same sentiments expressed: ‘The time’s gone by for fighting;’ ‘we’re settled now;’ ‘it’s all very well to talk of Troy but the age of heroes is past.’ How right my father had been when he said that a war now would create dissension!
Where I could I tried to re-awaken the spirit of our forefathers. Whenever a bard sat by the hearth of a house I was visiting I would call for the old, stirring tales. When there was none I took my lyre and sang them myself. The young men listened readily enough and would join me in dreaming of some great enterprise which would make their names ring like those of Achilles and Agamemnon, but their fathers merely smiled indulgently. At such times a sense of foreboding gripped me at the recollection of the Dorians, with their wolvish faces and their iron swords. But there was too much to think about every day to concentrate on them and I found myself worrying less and less about the possibility of an invasion.
The ship carrying Andropompous and Melanthos returned in due course and my father summoned me to be present when they gave their report. Temenos sent messages of good will. His brother Cresphontes had acted entirely without his knowledge and had been rebuked severely. Kerkios’s death had not been intended and the man responsible had been executed. Further, he sent a gift of amber beads and two slave girls in payment for Kerkios’s loss. Finally, he insisted that he had no hostile intentions towards us and the ships his brother was building were for raids on the more barbarous tribes to the north. How, he asked, could he hope to defeat the redoubtable descendants of Nestor?
The news was reassuring, though I had to suffer a very uncomfortable morning when it was repeated to the members of the Kin. However, this was somewhat compensated for by Melanthos, who said to me privately, ‘I think you are right, Alkmaion. I wouldn’t trust Temenos out of my sight.’
Towards the end of the summer I was returning from an official visit to the Further Province. It was late in the day and Neritos was making the chestnuts step out in order to get us back to the palace before dusk. He touched my arm and pointed with his whip towards a cloud of dust on the road ahead of us.
‘Another chariot.’
‘Yes,’ I said. ‘Whose, I wonder. It’s going towards the city.’
We soon caught up with the other vehicle and seeing us approach, they stopped and waited As we drew up I saw that the chariot was magnificently ornamented and the occupants richly dressed, though both were strangers to me . I got down and went towards them and the passenger, obviously the higher ranking of the two, came to meet me. He was a tall man in his middle years, with a lean, well-boned face and eyes accustomed to command. From the magnificent necklace and armlets that he wore it was clear that he was of noble birth. I saluted him with fitting courtesy.
‘Greetings, friend. I am Alkmaion, son of Sillos the King. May I know whom I have the honour of welcoming to Pylos?’
I saw his eyes widen and his face broke into a warm, humorous smile.‘Why, Prince, this is a most fortunate meeting! I am Penthilos, son of Orestes and half-brother to Tisamenos, High King of Mycenae.’
It was my turn to stretch my eyes in surprise. Here was an important visitor indeed! Half-brother and Lawagetas to the High King himself, to whom even my father owed allegiance.
I answered respectfully, ‘We are most honoured, Prince Penthilos. This visit is a pleasure we had not dreamed of. Had we known in advance of your coming I would have met you at the borders of the kingdom. My father will be delighted to welcome you. Your name, if not yourself, is well known in Pylos.’
His smile broadened. ‘As is yours in Mycenae, Prince Alkmaion. Your bard Sirios has made us acquainted with your adventures overseas.’
I blushed with pleasur
e, but replied, ‘They are as nothing compared with the mighty deeds of Penthilos of Mycenae.’
He went on, ‘I should, I know, have sent a herald ahead of me to announce my coming but my journey was made on an impulse, so I hope your father will forgive the informality. A messenger has gone ahead from the first town we came to so he should by now be informed of my arrival. Tell me, are you travelling far from home, or are we in fact quite close to your father’s palace?’
‘It is true,’ I returned, ‘that I have been on a long journey for my father, but we are now almost home. If we make our horses show their best paces we can be there before sunset.’
‘Good!’ he said. ‘Let us do that’.
I said, a trifle hesitantly, ‘If it pleases you, let my charioteer ride with yours and I will drive you to the palace. Then we can converse more easily.’
‘It pleases me very well,’ Penthilos returned with smiling courtesy.
As we drove along I asked him how he had fared on the journey and he enquired after the health of my father and the rest of my family. I longed to ask what had brought him to Pylos but that, I knew, was for my father to do, not me. I found him pleasant company and by the time we were nearing the city we were chatting easily. As we rounded the final bend in the road, with the sun making a path of flame across the sea, I pointed ahead.
‘There is the city, and those are the rooftops of my father’s palace on the hill.’
Penthilos leaned forward, shading his eyes. Then he turned to me. ‘What I have heard is true, then. You have no defending walls.’
I hesitated, slightly taken aback and remembering the argument with my uncles of that very subject. ‘When my great-grandfather Nestor rebuilt the palace of his father, Neleus, his power was so absolute he had no need of walls. We have been fortunate in that it has always been so. No foes have come against us and the land is quiet.’
He said, ‘Quite, quite. Let us hope it will always be so.’ But I could see that he was disturbed.