Murder At The Panionic Games

by Michael B. Edwards

CHAPTER XVI

  The next morning was one of those rare days in early summer, when we were visited by scudding gray clouds and light, drizzling rain. The rainy season in Ionia generally runs from the month of Poseidon at the beginning of winter to the month of Elaphebolion at the beginning of spring. After that Helios' chariot of the sun infrequently permits the raindrops to come between itself and Demeter's Earth. We farmers welcome a wet period now and then, since it gives the crops a boost and allows us to get caught up on inside chores.

  Not on this misty day however. It was the fourth day of the great Panionic Games, and they would proceed come what may. I had sent out Duryattes immediately after our light ariston breakfast meal to locate the maid of Bilassa and set the wheels of our scheme in motion. A little later on, as my family ambled down the road toward the city, I went over the scheduled events of the day in my mind's eye. In the morning the excitement would begin with the initial rounds of the pancration fighting and the long jump and end with the long race, the 24 stade distance running from the stadium

  to a turn-around point beyond the city limits and back to the stadium. I particularly hoped to be able to view the long race, as I myself am not half bad at it, compared with all the other events, at which I am atrocious. Oh, yes, I can hurl a pretty fair javelin too, by the way. By measure of a clepsydra water clock, normally used for timing speeches in the meetings of the city Assembly, I can complete the long race in about one sixth of an hour, but of course, the athletes in the games would turn in times as good as a seventh of an hour. The long race was run only once during the games, and only first place counted for any glory. I suppose that must give some indication of the importance we Ionians, and indeed all the Greeks, give to winning, since second or third place is not even

  recognized in the events.

  Of course, most of the spectators would be thirsting to watch the pancration, that bloody event that combined wrestling, boxing, and the game of dirty tricks. Its matches would continue upright or on the ground, until one of the contestants surrendered. Basically anything was allowed with the exception of eye gouging and biting, although only the gods above knew why these were not permitted, as one could punch, kick, or strangle at will. It was a relatively new event, this being only the fourth Panionic Games that it appeared in, and according to my father, was a clear indication of the decline of our decadent civilization. I must admit the contestants possessed prodigious strength and incredible endurance, but very little actual skill in athletics. Most of the competitors in the boxing and wrestling events stayed away from the pancration in fear that they would be injured and not able to compete in their more skillful events. Of course there were always athletes like Krelonan, the son of Kreton and brother of Bilassa, who figured they were invincible and could win in both the pancration and wrestling or boxing.

  In the afternoon the crowd would be back at the hippodrome for the horse races.

  Like the chariot races of the day before, the horse races tended to reflect more glory on the horse's owner rather than on the rider. But the rider did get his own share of glory by receiving a crown as well. One had to be both extremely proficient and fortunate to win the horse race, as nearly everything was permitted there as well. While riding bareback the contestants could swerve their horses into their opponents' mounts and even strike at the other riders, as they competed neck and neck. I hoped to be able to speak to Usthius at the hippodrome, as Euphemius had told me last night that the young man would be riding for him, just as he had previously employed him as chariot driver in place of the dead Tyrestes.

  Finally to end the day's events, the initial rounds of the discus throwing would take place at the stadium in the mid-afternoon after the horse racing. This third day of actual competition would complete all the preliminary rounds of all the events, paving

  the way for the final rounds of the single events on the fourth day and the pentathlon on the fifth day. The games and festival would conclude with sacrifices and celebration on the afternoon and during the evening of the last day. That is, of course, if I was able to catch the murderer by then. If I failed in my task, then Polearchus would reveal to the crowd, now at least 10,000 strong, that they had been reveling for the last two days in a city infected with the miasma of guestslaying. What would happen then, I did not care to contemplate.

  The people walking along the muddy road with us had increased in number until the crowd had grown quite large and boisterous, as we entered the city's western gate. It was not really a gate, just a point at which the road entered the city's outermost buildings, but it did have a tall pillar on each side where the normally hard-packed dirt of the country road changed to the closely-fitted cobbles of the town. I have visited Miletus across the bay several times with my father, and that great metropolis actually had gates that opened and shut at various times, permitting or allowing entry to the city at the gatekeeper's whim. Amazing!

  At any rate, my mother stopped the family at the western gate and drew us off to one side, my father fidgeting and clearly anxious to get to the stadium. He would claim that he did not want to miss the long race, but that did not take place for several hours, the early morning period being reserved for the pancration, which he professed to disdain. My mother had no intention whatsoever of letting her younger daughters view the pancration.

  ”My love, I do not want to miss any of the long race,” protested Holicius to Tesessa, as she fussed with the set of his cloak on his shoulders and the curls of his beard. She produced a tiny set of bronze scissors from a fold in her own chiton, and gave his beard a judicious snip or two, as he stood suffering silently and allowing her to continue. Again, I reflected on my mother's quiet dominance of her own household in a supposedly male-dominated world.

  All of us were covered in long cloaks of different colors to ward off the drizzle, although the temperature was mild and the mist soft. Tesessa inspected me critically for a moment, noting how my cloak covered my black mourning tunic, but came to the conclusion for the twentieth time that this concession to propriety might be necessary to keep me from catching an ague. She turned back to my father.

  ”My dear, you are undoubtedly the most noble-looking man I have seen on the road today,” she said cheerfully, staring straight into his eyes. “I am sure people will note your entry into the stadium, whenever it is you arrive!”

  Holicius preened himself subconsciously like a small bird fluffing his plumage, and smiled affectionately at his wife.

  ”Bias and I will take the girls with us to the stadium and not let them out of our sight,” he asserted. “You go and view a comedy, eh?”

  My mother had unbent enough to allow Ulania, Arlana, and after a tearful session of pleading, Risalla, to attend the morning events with my father and me. She would not listen to Tirah's equally histrionic pleas to attend the games, no doubt considering that she had to draw the line somewhere. Besides, in Risalla's case, Tesessa probably thought the sooner my father got her married off, the better, or only Aphrodite, the goddess of love, knew what might come next. In my opinion, it was undoubtedly Aphrodite of Cnidos who would decide my sister's fate. The citizens of Cnidos, a non-Ionian Greek city to our south, had it right in Risalla's case. To them Aphrodite was the voluptuous goddess of lust. I eyed her narrowly, as she fluffed the hair beneath her cloak's hood, and turned this way and that to stare happily at men in the crowd passing the gate.

  ”Thank you, husband,” Tesessa murmured to her mate. “We will meet you in time for mid-day deipnon meal at the hippodrome, then?” Holicius impatiently nodded assent and then was off, followed hurriedly by the three girls like chicks following a bantam rooster. I gave my mother a quick smile and swiftly brought up the rear of the procession, like a good guard should do. Our male slave Dryses flashed me a wry grin as I passed him, and plodded along after my mother as the designated protector for the day for the younger girls.

  Duryattes was anxiously awaiting our arrival as we rea
ched the stadium gate, springing up and down in an effort to spy over the heads of taller people in his way.

  He spotted our party as we came within easy view, and slithered his way through the entering throng toward us, like a snake making its way in a field strewn with rocks.

  I motioned for him to remain silent for a while and to follow us to our prearranged seats near the stadium floor. It took us at least one half hour to get to the seats, as my father had to greet each aristocratic citizen he met on the way and chat for a few moments about the games or the weather. By the time Holicius and the girls were seated Duryattes was squirming like an eel with the pent-up news he had to offer me.

  ”Young master, I have met and spoken with Bilassa's maid,” he hissed secretly to me, as we peered about the stadium floor at the athletes preparing to batter one another into abject submission.

  ”Well?” I asked, not looking him in the eye, but pretending indifference as I viewed the preparations on the field. The boy glared at me with ill-concealed despair.

  ”Well, she has carried a message to her mistress that you wished to talk with her alone, and the time is now, now!” he nearly shrieked. I motioned him furiously to remain quiet, and stole a glance at my father out of the corner of my eye. He was conversing animatedly with a friend to his left, but I noted Arlana contemplating me with a fishy eye. Ulania was peering about shortsightedly for her betrothed, no doubt, and Risalla was gazing hungrily at the contestants stretching and flexing in the area below. I bestowed a sweet smile on Arlana, who turned away with a sniff to engage Ulania in

  conversation.

  ”Follow me,” I mouthed to Duryattes, who slid along in my wake as I made my way back to the stadium entrance.

  ”For Poseidon's sake, where is she supposed to meet me?” I demanded when we were out of sight of Arlana's shrewd, speculative gaze.

  ”Not for Poseidon's sake, but for ours, young master.” Duryattes skipped out of the way of my suddenly raised hand. He became serious. “I told the maid to bring her mistress to that maza stand over there.” He pointed to a vendor cooking and selling hot maza bread from a small stand to our right.

  We made our way cautiously over to the stand, noticing that the pancration competition had begun by the crowd's roaring and leaping to its feet with fists waving in the air. I sneaked a glance down toward the stadium floor and saw the monstrous Krelonan grappling with an athlete about two thirds his size. The huge Prienean had a bloodthirsty grin on his face, as he battered his opponent's face with a hamlike fist, while holding him secure in a tight headlock. The smaller athlete howled in protest.

  The beautiful blonde form of Bilassa emerged from behind a pillar, as we drew close to the maza stand, followed by her smirking maid. Gods above, she was gorgeous beyond description, a true representation of Aphrodite! Her snow-white cloak with its gleaming hood barely hid the profusion of golden curls peeking from around its edge, and her perfect body could not be disguised by the thin linen chiton beneath the unpinned outer garment. I closed my gaping mouth with a snap, when Duryattes dug an elbow into my side, and bowed deeply to the vision in front of me.

  ”Mistress, I am Bias, son of Holicius and investigator of the magistrates of Priene,” I muttered, staring at the shapely hands she held clasped in front of her. “I would like to speak to you about the unfortunate matter of Tyrestes' death, if I may.”

  Bilassa turned angrily to her maid, who noticeably shrank back, but retained a timorous smile.

  ”Virthisia, you said a handsome suitor desired to secretly meet me,” she piped at the slave in a high-pitched, breathless, little girl's voice. “I know of this Bias. He is neither handsome nor a suitor, I think!” She gestured at me impatiently with a perfect hand.

  Now, I admit I am not likely to win a face contest with Adonis, but I believe I am well-enough proportioned and regular-featured to hold my own with most young Ionians.

  So I shrugged off this insult as an unfortunate gaff on the part of this earthly nymph, and attempted to salvage the situation.

  ”My lady, you misunderstand,” I murmured smoothly, grasping the waving hand, as a bear might grab a swimming fish in a fast-running stream. She stared at her imprisoned hand in surprise.

  ”Your maid was not so far wrong,” I continued, staring into the shining eyes. “Although I do want to speak to you about Tyrestes, I also may be considered a possible suitor, though obviously not as handsome as those you are used to!” I blinked at her several times, and tightened my grip on her hand. She looked into my eyes for several moments, switching her gaze from there to her hand, as if still amazed that she could not wave it about. Glancing back into my eyes, she smiled hesitantly.

  ”Oh, very well then, I shall let you woo me for a moment,” she agreed in a soft rush. “But only for a moment. It is very improper, you know. What if my father should see us?” I blinked again involuntarily at this suggestion, but kept the smile fixed on my not-so-handsome face.

  ”Um, yes, you are quite correct. As I said, you must have many handsome and athletic suitors vying for your father's permission to see you, indeed if not to wed you!” She had not disengaged her hand from my grip, but let it lie there warm but still. She kept her brightly shining eyes locked firmly onto my mouth, as if trying to deduce what I was saying by the shape of my lips as the words emerged.

  ”Yes, there are many young men with their fathers who come to see my father, but I seldom am allowed to talk to them,” she protested prettily. Her pouting lips drooped at the corners for an instant, and then charmingly curved up again. “But sometimes, like now, I can steal away for a moment, right under my brothers' noses!”

  At this admission I glanced apprehensively around to make sure that none of the three gigantic siblings were anywhere in sight. Temporarily reassured, I asked her if she had spoken to my good friend Usthius yesterday at the chariot track.

  ”Indeed I did, noble Bias, with my maid's help,” she answered innocently with a curiously vacant look in those incredible eyes. “Did you know that he is the master of his own estate now that his illustrious brother Tyrestes passed away? You wanted to ask me a question about Tyrestes, did you not?”

  Her smile was brilliant, the white, even teeth gleaming between those perfect lips.

  I began to wonder if I was speaking to the right Bilassa here. The one I had expected to meet in my mind was beautiful, but cold and calculating. This Bilassa appeared to be little more than a gorgeous child. Perhaps I was being played with here?

  ”Why, yes, Bilassa, I believe I did mention Tyrestes. He certainly was a tremendous athlete, was he not? But even great competitors wish for a beautiful and, if I may be so bold as to say, a well-off wife to give them strong, handsome sons. Surely he was one of your suitors, just as his brother Usthius is now, eh?”

  Her fine eyes clouded over as I spoke about Tyrestes, and she slowly pulled her hand from mine. She glanced over at Duryattes and her maid, who were speaking seriously to each other in a corner a little way from us.

  ”I am not sure I wish to speak about Tyrestes' efforts as a suitor,” she sniffed, wrinkling that pert nose in the misty air. “He was not a very honorable man, you know, in that regard. And as for Usthius, I am afraid he is just a boy of 18. Even though he is master of his own estate, it will be quite a while before he weds, so my father tells me. I

  do not think he would be right for me.”

  There was both good and bad news in her last statements, and I hastened to try and follow up on her opinion of the elder brother.

  ”I always thought that Tyrestes was very honorable in his dealings with fair ladies. He never spoke of any conquests he may have made or lonely wives he may have been seeing.”

  "Nevertheless, he did not appreciate what I had to offer." She languidly fluffed at her golden curls. "Other suitors have appreciated me more, I can assure you. I do not think he was a real gentleman, as my other suitors have been. He was not very consider
ate, and much too hasty." What in the name of Aphrodite of Cnidos was this girl talking about? Surely not what I thought she was talking about! Her eyes were now starting to stray about the crowd, as if searching for someone or something.

  ”Er, what exactly do you mean, Bilassa, when you say he was not considerate and was too hasty?” I asked nervously for clarification. And by the lust of Zeus, she told me.

  ”When I am able to entertain a suitor without my father or brothers being present, I am accustomed to them making love gently and slowly, and giving me great pleasure,” she explained clearly, as if to a great dolt. “My beauty and my father's wealth give me the choice of which suitor I desire, not the other way around. Tyrestes was only interested in his own pleasure, not in mine. I am not accustomed to that, and did not care for it.” Her amazing eyes, wide and honestly childlike, stared directly into mine.

  To say that I was absolutely speechless is far, far from the mark. The stadium fairly whirled about me as I absorbed these incredible statements, and I had to thrust a hand out against a pillar to steady myself. These were not the words of an aristocratic virgin, but rather those of a trained courtesan! As from a great distance, I heard her concluding, “Of course, my father and brothers do not know about the adventures I have had with my suitors, or even about the many times I have simply entertained unchaparoned. I am afraid they would be quite displeased if they discovered how I am testing the water before jumping in! Virthisia helps me, you know, and they never guess!”

  Bilassa apparently thought this a great jest, and her laugh tinkled merrily in the damp air. She looked at me earnestly after a moment, and noted me gaping incredulously at her.

  ”You are not so bad looking, now that I look at you closely, Bias.” She touched my chest with the hand I had so recently held. “Perhaps we could meet later and see how you fare as a suitor? “ Her high-pitched, girlish voice simply did not correspond with the offer I was hearing. I glanced desperately about for a way out of this predicament of my own making, and was greeted with a sight that froze my blood as if I had been touched by the cold finger of the north wind, Boreus.

  There, only about twenty rows down the stadium side toward the pancration competitions where they had been watching Krelonan crush his opponent, stood the two other Herculean brothers of Bilassa. Even as I stared horrified at them, for some undefined reason one turned slowly and spotted his sister and I at the top of the stadium seating. His mouth opened in a conspicuous snarl, he elbowed his brother in the ribs to catch his attention, and started bearlike up the vertical slot that separates seating sections.

  In a single heartbeat I grabbed the arm of Duryattes, thrust him stumbling toward the stadium exit tunnel, and sprinted close on his heels. The boy turned in astonishment to ask the reason for this abrupt departure, spied the brothers lumbering up the stairway, and whirled about to race for the exit. He got there before I did, but that is only because I gave him a head start. If Hermes, the god of athletes, ever lent wings to a man's heels, he did then to mine. As I dashed down the tunnel exit to freedom, I heard the innocent, girlish voice behind me.

  ”I am sure my father would approve of your family, and then you would only have to prove yourself to me!”

  Edwards—Murder At The Panionic Games