CHAPTER XI
As you can probably imagine, I did not sleep particularly well with this bit of
undigestable information about Risalla and Usthius sticking in my craw like a piece of bad meat. I tossed and turned on my cot all night with visions of them, Bilassa, Ossadia, Nolarion, Valato, Krelonan, Kreton, and Endemion all whirling through my mind like pieces of some strange puzzle that I needed to solve, but did not know where to begin.
I could not recall much of these phantoms in the morning except for half-remembered snatches, but one curious and repulsive scene was left there, no doubt, with glee by Morpheus, the god of dreams.
I was seated on the top of the small shrine of Apollo located on the northern edge of Priene's gymnasium area, but instead of being surrounded by the small, sacred olive grove, the surface of a restless sea spread out behind me as far as the eye could reach.
The waves of the sea were grey and spume-tossed, and I could feel the spray soaking the back of my tunic. To my front on the gymnasium grounds many people were practicing various sports events, and I let my view wander about, seemingly not at all surprised at the various odd encounters it noted. Nolarion, Tyrestes, Risalla, and the Miletian athlete Habiliates were throwing javelins to my left; Endemion, Bilassa, and Usthius sprinted down the field in a race to my right; and in the center of my field of vision Valato and his daughter, Ossadia, were passionately kissing, while Euphemius and Kreton sprinkled them with hundreds of flower petals. Beyond them, spread out like a giant, multicolored cloth upon the ground, the crowd cheered and swayed. Oddly enough, even though I had never met Bilassa or Usthius, I know they were there in that dream.
Tyrestes and Habiliates tossed their javelins far down the field, while Risalla leaned against hers and solemnly stared back at me. The magistrate Nolarion suddenly whirled about from his throwing position and hurled his javelin at the crowd. It struck somebody deep in the throng--I could not see who-- but this simply caused the people to break out in renewed cheering and screaming. Nolarion was beaming back at them with his hands held high in the air, when he was felled by a tremendous blow from behind by the Miletian athlete, Habiliates. This met with triumphant approval from Ossadia, who pushed her father away from herself and ran to throw herself in the Miletian's waiting arms. Usthius, who had won his race against a panting Bilassa and strangely lethargic Endemion, completed his run by snatching up Risalla over his shoulder as he sprinted by and flinging her javelin into the back of Tyrestes, who was now wrestling with the risen Nolarion. The spear protruding from his back did not seem to bother him much, but he could not reach it with his searching hands, so Habiliates with Ossadia twined about him, plucked it from the bunched muscles and tossed it aside with a contemptuous gesture. Obviously infuriated by this, Nolarion and Bilassa began arguing over to whom the javelin belonged, Nolarion emphasizing his points by tearing great hunks of his beard away and tossing them at the beautiful girl. Throughout Euphemius and Kreton strolled about, throwing petals to the wind, while Endemion stared stupidly at the crowd.
I had a banging headache when I awoke, and fervently wished that Hypnos, the god of sleep, would keep a firmer hand on his son, Morpheus. I am well aware that dreams are messages sent by this fickle god, but if you can decipher that one, then you, and not I, should be the priest of Poseidon.
At any rate I did not have the chance to question Risalla alone about her possible dalliances with the now independent Usthius, as the family breakfasted hurriedly and with quick strides that caused my younger sisters to complain in protest, walked back to the city to try and catch the opening diaulos, double-length races at the stadium. There were even more spectators than yesterday, when we arrived at the oval structure. They were cheering and screaming like madmen at the various racers, who were grinning and bobbing like olives in a tub of water. Gods, there must have been 8000 people packing the stadium, and the cloths and cushions they used to ease the strain of squatting on the rock-cut grandstand seats would have covered the flat stadium grounds several times over. Even at this early hour of the morning the wine and food sellers were doing a roaring trade and revelling in every hardfought moment of it.
One of the opening heats in the diaulus races commenced just as we arrived, fighting our way down to our places in the lower part of the central stands. Thanks be to Poseidon, the aristocratic citizens of Priene had permanent seats in this best part of the structure. Otherwise, we certainly would not have been able to get close to the athletic contests. Even so, if we had been a little later in arriving, we no doubt would have found our places taken by screeching fans daring us to remove them by bodily force!
In the diaulus race the contestants sprint down the entire length of the field, curve around a pole set at the far end , and then bound back to the starting line. The trick is to balance the need for great speed in the first half of the race against the ability to turn around in the least possible time without touching either the far wall or the pole.
Habiliates of Miletus was in the heat we viewed as we arrived, and won easily, almost jogging past the finish line, a lazy smile on his handsome face. The audience, filled with visitors from his great city across the bay, erupted into wild screams and cheers as their hero strutted about, his fists thrust high above his head and head thrown back to bask in the glory. The sound pounded against the stadium walls like storm waves against a rocky shore. I thought that he was easily the fastest runner I had ever seen, and if anybody could beat him, the winner would certainly have earned his laurel wreath.
My father glanced disdainfully at the screaming Miletians all around us, and cupping a hand round his mouth, bawled into my ear.
”This is a good example of how a mob attitude can overcome even the most sensitive of men. I know there are citizens of good repute in this crowd of Miletians.
I have met many of them. And yet, note how they howl like so many wolves in the
woods!”
I inspected him curiously. I had seen Holicius shrieking with the wildest of them when an athlete from Priene won an event, so his comment seemed one-sided at best.
But he was my father, so I nodded vigorously and turned my attention back to the contests.
Several more heats were run before I saw my chance to talk to Risalla alone.
My mother mentioned that she would welcome some maza and olives to snack upon, and I leaped to my feet, hauling up Risalla with me by her muscular arm.
”We will get you and the girls some food, Mother,” I volunteered enthusiastically.
”Father, would you like some wine?” Holicius nodded distractedly, his gaze fixed on the Priene entry for the next heat. Tesessa smiled at me and my sister, and waved us away.
”What are you doing? I want to watch the races!” protested Risalla, as I pulled her along toward a food seller near one of the stadium tunnel exits. As I had done with Ossadia the day before, I stopped in the tunnel to speak out of immediate range of the roaring crowd. Risalla sensed something was up, and stared at me haughtily, her eyes lidded and wary.
”What in Hades do you think you are playing at with Usthius?” I threw at her, hoping to catch her off guard. As I have indicated, Risalla's wit would never contain the capacity to build a temple or write poetry, but I had become increasingly chary of her craftiness of late. I hoped the blunt approach was the wisest one in this case.
She caught her breath with a quick intake, held it for a moment, and then let it out in a slow sigh. I imagined that I could actually see the cunning creep sideways into her eyes, as she considered me in silence.
”And who is this Usthius?” she asked softly after a heartbeat or two, looking directly up at me.
”You well know who he is!” I shot back at her. “He is the brother of Tyrestes, and
is now the head of that family, heir to its land and fortune, limited though that may be!” She regarded me as if I were some strange, smelly kind of fish, and then turned away to watch the race from the mouth of the tunnel
.
"Father does not permit me to talk to men without his permission. You know that. When would I have had the chance to play at anything with this Usthius? I am never out of sight of one of the family, am I?" She glanced back at me again with this rejoinder, and smiled lazily in my direction. She is getting to be very good at this, particularly at her age, I thought. It is amazing what you do not really know about people close to you, until some unforeseen event occurs to trigger shifts in feeling and awareness.
”Do not dissemble with me, Risalla! I have a witness who saw you with him at the altar ceremony the day before yesterday. The ceremony at which you were so busy pouring wine that you did not see anything odd happening!”
Her lips clamped together in anger, drawing her mouth into a sharp line. What had happened to my little sister of the rosy cheeks and sometimes vacuous smile? This certainly was not her, being more akin to some changeling substituted by a mischievous nymph. I heard the breath hiss into her throat, as she drew it past clenched teeth.
”Your witness is mistaken, Bias. I have heard of the name, Usthius, now that you have refreshed my memory of who he is. But I have never met him. Again, how could I? And what would the head of a family want with me? I am not old enough to wed or even to dally with.”
"To dally with?" I repeated in a sharp tone. "From where do you get such thoughts? My witness is not mistaken. Apparently this matter is being discussed all over the agora, like you were some common pornoi slut! Usthius is considering you as a choice for his wife, and asked Tyrestes to look into the possibility of a betrothal. But Tyrestes did not think you would bring a large enough dowry to help pay off his family debts! Does all this sound familiar?"
Risalla's eyes had opened wide in alarm, as I had revealed how much I knew, and she licked her lips nervously, glancing to right and left as if considering flight. She looked back at me.
”None of that is true,” she demurred. “I may have met this Usthius at the Panionion for a moment or perhaps seen him in the city, when I was there shopping with Ulania or Mother, but he certainly never indicated any romantic interest in me. I believe I would have recognized that, even as young as I am!”
I am certain of that myself, I thought, as I remembered the hungry way in which she had stared at the wrestlers yesterday. Oh, yes, sister, I am positive you would recognize romantic interest.
”So now you admit that you have met Usthius several times, including at the altar ceremony?” I persisted.
”So what if I did?” she flounced angrily. “I have done nothing improper. Can I be held responsible for baseless rumors in the marketplace?”
”Let me spell it out for you, sister, since you are having difficulty seeing the obvious, even if you are finally telling the truth. Usthius was interested in a possible betrothal to you, but Tyrestes needed large dowries to pull his family estate out of debt. Our father can afford to present you with only a modest dowry, but enough of one for a man interested in allying himself with the house of Holicius. Usthius was the second son of his family. With Tyrestes dead he would become the family heir and could wed whomever he wished. You were a wine pouring girl for the athletes at the ceremony, which would include his brother Tyrestes. How hard could it be in the excitement for him to make sure a certain cup, a special cup, was given to his brother? And how much easier even this would have been if a certain wine pouring girl made sure that Tyrestes got that cup?” I stopped abruptly, as I drew a deep breath, and watched her closely.
Risalla was shocked, there was no denying that. Her eyes had opened even wider than before, and the pupils had grown large and dark with surprise. I could see white all around their edges. Her breath came in quick gulps, and her hands were twined tightly together in front of her chiton. She shook her head violently in denial.
”No, I never!” she shrilled. “I never did anything like that! Bias, it is not true! How can you even think that of your own sister?”
”Then tell me the truth,” I demanded harshly, grasping her upper arms in my hands and squeezing hard. Her flesh bulged around the outsides of my fists, and she winced in pain. “Tell me what you know of Usthius!”
”I do not know much of anything! She was still shaking her head. “Please, Bias, let me sit down. Let me sit down.” I guided her to a large rock outside the stadium entrance tunnel, and she sank down upon it. I am sure Mother is wondering where her food is, I thought illogically for a moment.
”Tell me what you know of Usthius and anything he said to you,” I spoke in a gentler tone, crouching down beside her rock, and taking her face in my hands. The tears were tumbling out of her eyes now, sliding down her face, and plopping from her chin onto the breast of her chiton. But she wept silently, only pausing to snuffle now and then as she breathed hard in and out. I waited until the river had dried up, and then she looked up at me with miserable eyes.
”Usthius did say he was interested in me, both before in the city and at the ceremony,” she gulped, rubbing a hand over a now thoroughly reddened nose and dabbing at her eyes with her sleeve. “I saw him in Priene twice when Mother sent me on various errands, while she was shopping. We met the first time, when I bought some fish at the stand near the theater. Mother scolded me terribly right in public when I did not come back to her for half an hour.”
”And the next time?”
”The next time was at one of the fruit stalls in the agora,” she sniffed. “I know it was not right to talk to him, but he stood just out of sight of Mother around a corner, and we talked for a half hour or so. It was then he told me he was looking for a bride, and that he knew of me and my family. He claimed he had great respect for Father, and that he planned to bring up the matter with his older brother Tyrestes, who was the head of his family. Oh, Bias, I listened to him and giggled and laughed, but I did not think he meant anything by it. Men are not supposed to pick their own wives, I know that. I just thought he was trying to...you know, soften me up for some later meeting, where he would try to make love to me.”
This was delivered in such a calm and matter-of-fact tone that I wondered from where had Risalla obtained her knowledge of such things. I was sure it was not from Tesessa. My mother was loving to all her daughters, but quite old-fashioned when it came to discussing such things as love-making. Why, I had seen her blush when my father talked about the mating of horses or donkeys!
”I did not think any more about the subject or him until I saw him at the altar ceremony,” Risalla continued, her crying bout now definitely over and the air of defiance stealing with soft footfalls back into her voice. Maybe if I slapped her silly, it would do some good, but my mother would come after me with a kitchen knife if I did anything like that. So I remained silent and tried to look stern.
”What happened at the ceremony? How did you have time to speak to him with all the marching and pouring and so forth?”
”He popped out of the crowd just as I got beyond Mother and Father. A lot of young men walked with the girls in the procession from that point to the altar hill itself, trying to show off in front us to draw our attention from the athletes, who looked so splendid. I do not think anybody thought it was odd that one of them walked with me.”
Perhaps not odd, I thought, but plenty of people had noticed, as proved by the information obtained by Duryattes in the agora yesterday.
”What did he say at the ceremony,” I asked, feeling I was finally zeroing in on some information that might be of value. I fear that I may have let some enthusiasm creep back into my voice, as Risalla glanced at me hopefully.
”Get on with it,” I growled. She sniffed again, and slumped back dejectedly on her rock.
”He babbled on about Tyrestes standing in the way of our betrothal, and how if his brother unfortunately died, he would be the heir and could choose whomever he wished for a bride. I am afraid I was so excited, that I just laughed and did not say a word.”
She paused, remembering back.
“He is such a boy, Bias, especially compared to the athletes here for the games. He looked at me very oddly, I recall, and said again that he could be head of his family if Tyrestes met with an accident. I laughed again at that point, and I think he got the message that I was laughing at him, because he stormed away and left me. That was the last I saw of him. Things got so hectic then that I did not have time for anything, but pouring and fending off the hands of the athletes around me.”
Risalla looked very satisfied with this last remark, and smoothed her chiton over her upper body, running her hands over herself as she did so. She shivered, in remembrance I suppose.
By the gods, I thought, she might as well wear a sign that says, Take Me To The Nearest Set Of Bushes, I Am Yours. But I did believe she was telling the truth, for all that.
”You are sure that is all? You did not see him next to or behind the cups and wine amphoras, by chance?” Her eyes snapped back to the present, and she looked fixedly at me.
”No, I did not see him, but that does not mean he was not there. There were several young men, who were handing cups quickly to the magistrates, who in turn gave them to each athlete with a quick blessing.”
”What was that you just said?” I asked softly, peering intently at her.
”I said that some young men were giving the cups to the magistrates, who in turn handed them to the athletes,” she repeated impatiently. “Then we girls would pour the wine into the cups, while simultaneously trying to keep from being pawed too much.”
”Just a moment. I recall seeing the magistrates giving full wine cups to the athletes, not empty ones that you poured into.” I stretched my memory back, trying to recall the exact sequence of that part of the ritual.
”Well, yes, at first,” Risalla said peevishly. “But that was so slow and there were so many athletes and other citizens demanding a ceremonial kylix, that after a few minutes the magistrates began thrusting empty cups at the contestants, and we moved among them, pouring wine into the outthrust kylixes. You saw what happened with Crystheus and the ox.”
Of course, I thought. In the confusion it would have been simple for Usthius to hand the magistrate Nolarion a poisoned cup, when it was Tyrestes turn to receive a kylix. Even if he saw it, Tyrestes would have just thought it was Usthius joining in on the celebration. Usthius could have poisoned his brother, just as Bilassa could have poisoned her lover, or Endemion poisoned his chief rival.
”Yes, he could have done it!” I muttered out loud, staring at Risalla. She looked startled, and then shook her head emphatically.
"Do you mean Usthius could have poisoned Tyrestes? No, Bias, he could not have done that. He is such a boy, after all!"
Murder At The Panionic Games Page 10