CHAPTER IX
Endemion's wrestling match was his last event of the day. After eating three hen's eggs, several flat maza bread, and a hefty bowl of yoghurt for the midday deipnon meal, I went searching for him. Another Priene athlete told me Endemion would probably be at the outdoor gymnasium, stretching his muscles with some light running and jumping. I knew that tomorrow he was scheduled to compete in the initial diaulos double-stadium length foot races in the morning and the chariot racing in the afternoon at the hippodrome, so I sauntered over to the open ground that served as the city's gymnasium.
We Ionians can be a very emotional people, so Nolarion's abrupt transition from laughter to tears did not strike me as odd. After all, comedy and tragedy, rather than being two sides of a coin, are actually side by side, separated by the narrowest of margins, would you not say? At any rate, the magistrate had gone on to insure me that he had not been the one to administer the fatal dose to Tyrestes. Nor had he been able to remember which wine girl had poured the libation into the two cups he had held out for Tyrestes and Endemion. Had it been the plain Ossadia or the beautiful Bilassa? Or some other young woman that I knew nothing about? Even my sister Risalla was there pouring wine! He could not say. He did admit he shuddered every time he thought about how easy it would have been for the two athletes to have taken the opposite cups he held out -- in that case it would have been his son laying cold as a day old mackerel, instead of competing gloriously for the city of Priene.
I mulled this over, as I strolled through the narrow streets of the eastern edge of the town toward the gymnasium area. Of course, there was no telling if Nolarion was speaking truth or not. He could easily be lying through his aristocratic teeth. I had to admit that it did not seem likely that he would falsify his account of actually handing the cups to the two athletes, since I could not see that he had much to gain by admitting that he was the one who gave Tyrestes the deadly elixir. It would seem to throw suspicion directly on to him. On the other hand, I knew that he was a fierce friend of both Valato and Euphemius and had been for numerous years. My father told me once, that the only reason Euphemius had been elected to the magistrate's office was that he had been sponsored and praised by his old friend Nolarion. Would that be sufficient reason to lie and say he had poured the dose, when it had actually been done by an old trusted comrade? And, of course, there were the wine girls themselves. Did Nolarion actually know who had poured the nectar into Tyrestes' kylix? Could it have been the daughter of a fellow respected magistrate or that of a fellow aristocrat?
The more I mulled over the possibilities the more I realized that solving this crime was likely to prove to be a task as daunting as one of the labors of Hercules, though granted his were more muscular than intellectual. Better him than me.
Popping out of the entrance of a narrow side street, I strode onto the broad field of Priene's gymnasium. As with most Greek gymnasiums, there really was not much to it. It was a large area of flat, cleared ground bounded on the west by the outlying houses of the city and on the east by a small creek, that flowed from a spring bubbling up from beneath a group of piled boulders. It was used for athletic practice and military drill, and the stream was handy for quenching one's thirst or for bathing in at the north corner of the grounds. On the gymnasium's northern edge was an unpretentious shrine to Apollo surrounded by a small sacred grove of olive trees. Bordering its southern edge was the only building of sorts, a long, wooden, covered portico that housed a few tables, numerous benches, and several lecture podiums.
Many of the athletes, who were either not competing in today's events or had completed their initial boxing and wrestling matches, were scattered about the grounds, stretching, running, jumping, or throwing this and that. There must have been at least fifty of them there, though the air of fierce competitiveness was absent, to be replaced by an almost friendly feeling of camaraderie. Four or five were even splashing and playing in the stream on the other side of the gymnasium, and I noted two young men making water at the stream's far southern edge. Relaxing on benches under the portico were several elderly gentlemen, mentors and lovers of some of the young athletes, pointing and gesturing with pride and possessiveness at their charges.
Mycrustes, one of Priene's burly minor athletes of about my age, spotted me and waved me over to him with a shout and lazy wave. I wandered over to where he was hefting several javelins, testing their weight and balance.
”Ho, Bias!” he greeted me with a grin. “Tell me which of these sticks you like best?” He tossed me one of the javelins. Now, I admit I am no Olympian athlete, but I do have a good, strong right arm and can throw a mean javelin. I hefted each of the spears, finding its point of balance and comparing their weights.
”This one, I think,” I concluded, tossing him the one that seemed right to me. He caught it nimbly and regarded its length with a suspicious eye.
”You think so? I thought maybe that one with the yellow tip. I am throwing in the initial rounds tomorrow morning you know, after the diaulos racing.”
”The yellow-tipped one is certainly an excellent weapon also,” I hastened to assure him. “As a matter of fact, it was my other choice for the best one.”
”I knew it was the right one,” he concluded with a grin and tossed the yellow spear above his head. Catching it dexterously, he threw it in an easy spiral at a marker about 40 paces away. Its shiny bronze point gleamed in the afternoon sunshine, before it plowed into the short native grass.
”Have you seen Endemion about?” I asked, glancing vaguely around the open area.
”Oh, yes, he is over there on the far side, practicing some long jumping with his admirers.” He pointed toward a group of young men on the northern edge of the field, about two stades away. I thanked him and ambled slowly over to Endemion's
entourage.
There were a dozen young men clustered together, stretching, chatting, and laughing seemingly without a care in the world. How different from the tense and strained attitude displayed by these same athletes when actually competing in the stadium for prizes in the games! Here on the “cityless” grounds of the gymnasium they could be friendly comrades instead of serious rivals.
Endemion's face lit up, when he spotted me coming over, and he nudged a boy from Ephesus next to him.
”Hail, Bias, the mighty priest,” he boomed as I drew near. “Bless us with your wondrous presence.” The other athletes grinned and winked, clearly delighted to be in his entourage.
”Hail, Endemion,” I intoned with mock gravity, raising my hand in a benediction. “May you not fall on your gloriously large nose during the diaulos races tomorrow.”
He howled with glee and gave me a hug that set my bones creaking. I reflected wryly to myself that I was getting enough bearhugs today to last for the rest of the year.
I also noted that Endemion and his fellows seemed to have no aversion to my black tunic, slapping me mightily on the back and jostling me with good-natured nudges. The memories of the young are very short.
”Gods, your hair looks like some drunken satyr has been at it,” he marvelled at my shorn head. “Who in Hades is your barber?”
”My illustrious mother,” I managed with a grin. “So take care how you denigrate my superb locks.” He howled again, and once more I received a tremendous hug. Disentangling my aching arms and chest, I asked if I could speak to him privately for a few moments. He readily assented, and we strolled to the stream's edge to rest our hot feet in its clear, pleasant coolness, as his friends went back to practice jumping.
”How goes your investigation of the death of Tyrestes?” Endemion inquired
eagerly, his voice dropping to a whisper on the last few words.
”Very slowly. I just began this morning, remember?”
”I know you can find the murderer. You have always been a clever one!” His confidence touched me, his earnestness evident in his gaze. Was it possible that he admired me? How strange are the ways of
the world, that the hope for Priene's glory should admire a lowly priest of Poseidon.
”Um, yes, “ I said. “You can be of great assistance in this matter, Endemion.
You must tell me everything you can remember of the events of yesterday when you were with Tyrestes.” His face fell a bit at this, and I reflected how like a child in many ways was this magnificent athlete. He sighed and paddled in the water with his feet.
”Of course, noble Bias, I shall. Well, let me think. We marched the whole way from the city to the Panionion together, since the athletes from each city had their own section of the procession. Ah, it was grand, and Tyrestes was as happy as any of us! We wound our way through the hillocks over the top of Mount Mycale, and saw spread before us on the plain, all the people waiting to greet us, like we were gods!”
He paused, and I could see the contentment and pride shining on his face as he recalled every detail of each face he had looked upon in the adoring throng. He continued on.
”We walked proudly down the mountain side to the altar site. Oh, it was fine--all those people shouting and waving! When we got to the altar, the wine girls who had proceeded us poured libations into the cups thrust upon us by the magistrates. Tyrestes and I were side by side the whole way. We took our cups eagerly to await the sacrificial toast. I remember Father gave Tyrestes and I each a cup, and the girls poured them full. Mine even overflowed onto my hand and wrist, and I remember laughing and winking at my pouring girl. How she laughed and stared, a plain, young girl! But how her eyes sparkled!”
He paused again and glanced sideways at me.
”She was very firmly put together, if you know what I mean,” he added a little slyly, motioning with his hands in front of his chest. “And just about the right age where she is worth getting to know when her father is not around!”
”What happened next, Endemion,” I urged him on. He rubbed the top of his curly head vigorously, and continued.
”Well, let me see. We all stood waiting and listening to that bore, Crystheus, while he gave his speech to Poseidon, and then quaffed our wine down at the signal.
I remember punching Tyrestes on the arm, and how he grinned and squeezed my hand until it hurt. We turned back to watch the sacrificial proceedings, and the next thing I knew, I felt him sway against me and sink to the ground. I tried to hold him up, Bias, but it felt like he had no bones left! He just fell to the ground, and then vomited his wine onto my sandals! I could not hold him up!”
Endemion stopped abruptly, the swift flow of words being cut off as by a sharp knife. He stared off into the distance for a long moment, and then brought his gaze back to me.
”And then he died, did he not, Bias?” he added softly. “You were there. He died. What could I have done?”
”Nothing, noble Endemion.” I took him by the arms in a firm grip and fixed his gaze with my own. “There was nothing you could do. There was nothing anyone could do!” He nodded sadly a few times, and looked away.
”That's all I remember,” he concluded quietly. I wracked my brain for some further crumb of comfort I could give him, but nothing seemed to come.
”Endemion, my friend, did you see any action at the wine pouring that looked out of place? Something like someone placing powder or a liquid into a wine cup, or your pouring girl using one jug for you and a different one for Tyrestes?”
”No, I do not recall anything like that,” he drawled, as he vigorously scratched his thick thatch of black curls again. “But, then again, everything was happening so fast. I do not think anybody could have poured anything into his wine cup. I was the closest person to him the whole time, and I think I would have noticed something like that, eh?”
I regarded him thoughtfully as he peered around the field and splashed his feet in the stream. Yes, indeed, he had been the closest to Tyrestes for the whole time, had he not? I spoke with what I hoped was deceptive innocence.
”How do you think Tyrestes would have fared in the games, if fate had not been so cruel as to cut him down?”
He stood up, took a few steps into the stream, and sat down abruptly in the running water, dashing it energetically into his face and hair. The drops of water dripping from his handsome head sparkled in the sunlight, as he squinted at me.
”He would have been very hard to beat. He was extremely good, you know, especially in the running races and pentathlon events.”
”Do you think you could have beaten him?” I asked softly, staring directly into his eyes. His forehead creased with thought, and he smiled wryly.
”Yes, I think I would have beaten him,” Endemion said in a tone as flat as the gymnasium grounds. “He was excellent, but I do not think his heart was really in these games. I believe that my endurance and persistence would have prevailed in the end.” He rose out of the stream, shook himself, and clumped back to the water's edge. Taking off the length of cloth swaddled around his loins, he squeezed the liquid out of it and draped it around his shoulders to dry. We began walking back toward his admiring group of athletic friends.
”Why do you say that his heart was not in the competition?” I inquired curiously. “Surely to him as well as you, this is the chance of a lifetime for honor and fame.”
”It is that, of course, “ Endemion admitted easily enough, “but Tyrestes was troubled about things in his personal life lately. I do not really think it is something that we should talk about.”
I halted abruptly, seized him by his muscular arm, and swung him around.
”We must talk about it,” I urged, again staring into his wide-open eyes. “This is not some sort of polite conversation, as you seem to think. I am attempting to find out who killed Tyrestes, remember? Now, I admit that I have never attempted anything like this before, but I believe that any information I can obtain about him might contribute to finding the murderer.” My fierceness apparently startled the athlete, and he looked back at me in surprise. His answer was an embarrassed mutter.
”Well, then, of course. If you put it that way. Tyrestes was very concerned about his family and his estate. He confessed to me that he was not satisfied with that part of his life. It kept him from concentrating on his training.”
”Did he tell you what was bothering him about his family life?”
”Not in so many direct words. But I know that he was left with many debts when his father, Tirachos, died several years ago. His estate was a small one, and he was on the lookout for a way to increase his holdings.” The man stopped to observe one of his entourage try the long jump, frowning slightly when the leap proved to be a impressive one.
”How do you suppose he planned to enlarge his estate?” I pursued. I already knew the answer to that question. Since all the land around the city-state of Priene was already owned, the only way one could increase one's landholding was to pull in property in exchange for a debt or to marry a woman with a land-heavy dowry. Since Endemion had said that Tyrestes was already in debt from his father's actions, he had to be searching for a prosperous bride.
”He was looking for a profitable marriage,” sneered Endemion. Well he could sneer, as his father Nolarion was one of the wealthiest and most powerful men in Priene.
”Any ideas on what families he may have been looking at?” I rocked back and forth on the heels of my sandals, watching him out the corner of my eye as we observed another of his comrades attempt the long jump. This one fell short of the last young man's leap, and Endemion smiled in satisfaction.
”I'm afraid I cannot help you there,” he answered. “I have no interest in such matters, and did not really listen much when he spoke of various women, which he rarely did. Why should one worry about women with such fine, young fellows as these around as companions?” He swept his arm to cover the gymnasium area as he spoke.
”One final question,” I said. “Do you know if he had any feuds or problems with any of the other athletes here at the games?”
Endemion sho
ok his head. “Oh, no, nothing like that. He was very well liked, you know. Why, even these fellows around me now would have been clustered around him if he was still alive.” His voice trailed off wistfully at this last admission, and he turned away to begin stretching for a run. I could discern no bitterness in his tone, but what kind of expert am I?
”Yes, well, thank you for the information,” I said heartily and clapped him on the shoulder. I turned also, and began to stroll back toward the city's houses, when he spoke from behind me.
”Bias, one question that you asked. I just remembered it. If it is of any help, we were not poured wine by the same girl at the altar ceremony. As I said, mine was a plain girl with an impressive chest. His pourer was quite beautiful, as I recall, but did not smile much. Not the same girl at all.”
Murder At The Panionic Games Page 8