Part 37 (1/2)
”Yet the gateway of h.e.l.las is unlocked. Your bravest are fallen. Your land is defenceless. What else can be written hereafter save, 'The h.e.l.lenes strove with fierce courage to fling back Xerxes. Their valour was foolishness. The G.o.d turned against them. The king prevailed.' ”
But Glaucon met the Persian's glance with one more bold.
”No, Mardonius, good friend, for do not think that we must be foes one to another because our people are at war,-I can answer you with ease.
Leonidas you have slain, and his handful, and you have pierced the mountain wall of ta, and no doubt your king's host will march even to Athens. But do not dream h.e.l.las is conquered by striding over her land.
Before you shall possess the land you must first possess the men. And I say to you, Athens is still left, and Sparta left, free and strong, with men whose hearts and hands can never fail. I doubted once. But now I doubt no more. And our G.o.ds will fight for us. Your Ahura-Mazda has still to prevail over Zeus the Thunderer and Athena of the Pure Heart.”
”And you?” asked the Persian.
”And as for me, I know I have cast away by my own act all the good things you and your king would fain bestow upon me. Perhaps I deserve death at your hands. I will never plead for respite, but this I know, whether I live or die, it shall be as Glaucon of Athens who owns no king but Zeus, no loyalty save to the land that bore him.”
There was stillness in the tent. The wounded man sank back on the pillows, breathing deep, closing his eyes, expectant almost of a burst of wrath from the Persian. But Mardonius answered without trace of anger.
”Friend, your words cut keenly, and your boasts are high. Only the Most High knoweth whether you boast aright. Yet this I say, that much as I desire your friends.h.i.+p, would see you my brother, even,-you know that,-I dare not tell you you do wholly wrong. A man is given one country and one manner of faith in G.o.d. He does not choose them. I was born to serve the lord of the Aryans, and to spread the triumphs of Mithra the Glorious, and you were born in Athens. I would it were otherwise. Artazostra and I would fain have made you Persian like ourselves. My sister loves you. Yet we cannot strive against fate. Will you go back to your own people and share their lot, however direful?”
”Since life is given me, I will.”
Mardonius stepped to the bedside and gave the Athenian his right hand.
”At the island you saved my life and that of my best beloved. Let it never be said that Mardonius, son of Gobryas, is ungrateful. To-day, in some measure, I have repaid the debt I owe. If you will have it so, as speedily as your strength returns and opportunity offers I will return you to your people. And amongst them may your own G.o.ds show you favour, for you will have none from ours!”
Glaucon took the proffered hand in silent grat.i.tude. He was still very weak and rested on the pillows, breathing hard. The bow-bearer went out to his wife and his sister and told his promise. There was little to be said.
The Athenian must go his path, and they go theirs, unless he were to be handed over to Xerxes to die a death of torments. And not even Roxana, keenly as pierced her sorrow, would think of that.
CHAPTER XXIII
THE DARKEST HOUR
A city of two hundred thousand awaiting a common sentence of death,-such seemed the doom of Athens.
Every morning the golden majesty of the sun rose above the wall of Hymettus, but few could lift their hands to Lord Helios and give praise for another day of light. ”Each sunrise brings Xerxes nearer.” The bravest forgot not that.
Yet Athens was never more truly the ”Violet-Crowned City” than on these last days before the fearful advent. The sun at morn on Hymettus, the sun at night on Daphni, the nightingales and cicadas in the olives by Cephissus, the hum of bees on the sweet thyme of the mountain, the purple of the hills, the blue and the fire of the bay, the merry tinkle of the goat bells upon the rocks, the laugh of little children in the streets-all these made Athens fair, but could not take the cloud from the hearts of the people.
Trade was at standstill in the Agora. The most careless frequented the temples. Old foes composed their cases before the arbitrator. The courts were closed, but there was meeting after meeting in the Pnyx, with incessant speeches on one theme-how Athens must resist to the bitter end.
And why should not the end be bitter? Argos and Crete had Medized. Corcyra promised and did nothing. Thebes was weakening. Thessaly had sent earth and water. Corinth, aegina, and a few lesser states were moderately loyal, but great Sparta only procrastinated and despatched no help to her Athenian ally. So every day the Persian thunder-cloud was darkening.
But one man never faltered, nor suffered others about him to falter,-Themistocles. The people heard him gladly-he would never talk of defeat. He had a thousand reasons why the invader should be baffled, from a convenient hexameter in old Bacis's oracle book, up to the fact that the Greeks used the longest spears. If he found it weary work looking the crowding peril in the face and smiling still, he never confessed it. His friends would marvel at his serenity. Only when they saw him sit silent, saw his brows knit, his hand comb at his beard, they knew his inexhaustible brain was weaving the web which should ensnare the lord of the Aryans.
Thus day after day-while men thought dark things in their hearts.
Hermippus had come down to his city house from Eleusis, and with him his wife and daughter. The Eleusinian was very busy. He was a member of the Areopagus, the old council of ex-archons, an experienced body that found much to do. Hermippus had strained his own resources to provide s.h.i.+elds for the hoplites. He was constantly with Themistocles, which implied being much with Democrates. The more he saw of the young orator, the better the Eleusinian liked him. True, not every story ran to Democrates's credit, but Hermippus knew the world, and could forgive a young man if he had occasionally spent a jolly night. Democrates seemed to have forsworn Ionian harp-girls now. His patriotism was self-evident. The Eleusinian saw in him a most desirable protector in the perils of war for Hermione and her child. Hermione's dislike for her husband's destroyer was natural,-nay, in bounds, laudable,-but one must not give way too much to women's phantasies. The lady was making a Cyclops of Democrates by sheer imagination; an interview would dispel her prejudices. Therefore Hermippus planned, and his plan was not hard to execute.
On the day the fleet sailed to Artemisium, Hermione went with her mother to the havens, as all the city went, to wish G.o.dspeed to the ”wooden wall”