The Queen of Sparta (14 page)

CHAPTER 16

THE GORGON’S MASK

Sparta

The following evening

The sun set on the second day of Sherzada’s captivity in Sparta. It was not yet completely dark when he heard steps outside. Looking out of his cell window, he could see a torch-lit path leading to the garden and the now familiar figure of Gorgo walking towards his prison. Three figures appeared from the opposite direction, all dressed in long crimson cloaks. He could not make out the figures, other than that the men were dressed in typical Spartan garb. One of them was limping, walking only with a help of a tall staff. Gorgo’s face was lit up by the torchlight, as the dark blue sky began to vanish into darkness behind her.

The three men bowed slightly, even though there was an air of panic about them. The oldest of the three, the one with the staff, spoke first. “There is disturbing news, Majesty. We need your advice.”

“Would not my cousins, Pausanias and Euryanax, be better to guide you on military matters,” Gorgo responded quietly.

“They have already left for Corinth to attend the League’s conference,” said the tallest of three, “And, in any case, we have always sought your opinion before anyone else’s.”

Sherzada saw a satisfied expression alight on Gorgo’s torch-lit face. “So, gentlemen, what seems to be the problem?” she asked, her voice ringing clear in the night.

“We have heard that our allies, the rulers of Tegea, have been overthrown,” responded the tallest. “A faction known for its sympathies towards Persia and hatred for Sparta has replaced it. We now have enemies on our very doorstep. Tegea is less than a day’s march away. They can attack us whenever they want. We must pre-empt them.”

“However, our dilemma, Majesty,” interrupted oldest general, “is, as you might recall, the services the Tegeans rendered for Greece at Plataea. Is it wise to strike at a people who only a few days earlier were among our strongest and staunchest allies?”

The youngest disagreed. “The only reason they fought loyally at Plataea was that their leadership was loyal to us. But the situation has changed. Must we take chances?”

“Gentlemen,” said Gorgo, “Do you have proof that even if they are unfriendly towards us, they will attack us?”

The oldest general shook his head, and once again the youngest disagreed. “They have not disbanded their army,” he said, “while we have demobilized ours. Many of our warriors have left Sparta for their country estates. If the new Tegean leadership is hostile to us, they would want to attack us now, catching us completely unprepared. We do not have the luxury of waiting.”

“But if you are wrong?” asked Gorgo. “What if the new rulers of Tegea, no matter how pro-Persian or anti-Spartan, are not going to doing anything hostile against us? If we attack them, even pre-emptively, would we not be attacking our own allies? … and without provocation? What kind of message would that send throughout Greece? That we are just as bad as the Persians, if not worse! They will turn to our old rival, Argos. Thus, in one fell swoop we shall give the Argives everything that we have spent the last two decades taking from them.”

“Surely,” said the youngest, “your Majesty doesn’t expect us to sit around and wait for the situation to become any clearer?”

“Act we must,” she said and then added, “but with subtlety and finesse.”

The three men turned and looked at each other, obviously not quite sure of what Gorgo had just said.

“Have the Argives rebuilt their walls?” she asked.

The youngest became impatient. “What has that got to do with all of this?” he complained. “We are talking about Tegea, not Argos.”

“The two are linked, Arimnestus,” said Gorgo, “at least in how we must resolve this crisis.” After a moment’s silence, she continued, “Once again, I ask you gentlemen, have the Argives rebuilt the walls that my father made them tear down fifteen years ago?”

The tallest general chimed in, “there are persistent rumours that they want to rebuild them … But we have no proof that they have done so.”

“Well, someone ought to go and find out, don’t you think?” she asked. “And what about the Crypteia?”

The Crypteia, comprising the best of Sparta’s military graduates, was sent out each year to assassinate potential Helot troublemakers as a test of skill.

“I wonder if sending the Crypteia to kill recalcitrant Helots is the best way to utilize their talents,” she continued. “Where is it now … in Laconia or Messene?”

“The Crypteia is to leave for Laconia tonight,” responded the tallest.

“Strange,” she mused, “all the evidence we have suggests that the troublesome Helots are in Messene and yet we send our secret squad against the loyal ones in Laconia. I think the
Crypteia
needs a lesson in geography … as do their generals!”

The Generals shifted nervously, apparently stung by Gorgo’s criticism.

“The Crypteia is wasting its time,” she continued. “It should be recalled immediately.”

“But why?” asked the tallest. “And what has this got to do with the present crisis in Tegea?”

“Absolutely nothing, Evaeneutus, and that is precisely the problem. They should not be preying on innocent Helots in Laconia. They should be in Tegea spying on the new leadership there. Send the Crypteia to Tegea, tonight. Have them report back to you soon as possible. We need to have accurate information of the intention of the new Tegean leadership. And we need that information now.”

The one called Evaeneutus nodded and hurried away.

Arimnestus spoke again. “But that may be too late. What if the Tegeans attack us tonight?”

“You know the terrain. There are only two ways the Tegeans could attack us. Over the mountains from the north-west or by following the River Eurotas from the north-east. Either way, they would have to cross difficult ground. It would take them more than a day. And our border rangers, the Skiritae, would see them coming. But I do not think they are foolish enough to take on the Spartan army without thinking twice.”

“What shall happen in the morning?” asked Arimnestus.

“We shall prepare for war.”

It was the turn of the oldest general to become nervous. “Officially, the Tegeans are still our friends and allies. How can you justify going to war against them, Majesty?”

“Who said we are preparing for war against Tegea, Eurybiadas?” she smiled.

The two generals looked at each other, utterly confused.

“Send the word out tonight,” she continued, “to the
syssitionoi
that by daylight they should have an expeditionary force ready to march out. We do not need the whole army. As Arimnestus pointed out, most of them are away. But we can easily mobilize three battalions from the
Homoioi
and a similar number from the Perioikoi overnight. And, just to be on the safe side, send instructions to the Skiritae to watch the mountain passes as well as the Eurotas crossings. That ought to do the trick, don’t you think?”

“But, Majesty,” asked the eldest. “What will be the objective of this expeditionary force?”

“Their mission, good Eurybiadas, will be to see if the Argives have continued to obey our instructions not to build their fortifications, as they are required under the treaty that ended our last war with them. Our troops shall remind the Argives, in no uncertain terms, that if they put even a brick in place, we shall level Argos.”

A broad smile appeared on Eurybiadas’ lips, but Arimnestus asked plaintively, “but Majesty, what has this to do with Tegea?”

Gorgo spoke slowly and patiently to the young general. “Your troops, dear Arimnestus, will march through Tegean territory on their way to Argos. Once there, you will inform our Tegean friends about the objective of your expedition and request their assistance. If they are still our allies, their army will join ours in this expedition. If they are not, then they, and not the Argives, will have to answer to you. The entire Tegean army is less than three thousand men, and they will be facing over four thousand of ours. Once they see your big battalions, Arimnestus, I am sure the Tegeans will do the right thing.”

The two generals stared at Gorgo in silence, before Eurybiadas responded. “This is brilliant, Majesty.”

“Remember what Father used to say,” Gorgo seemed to smile modestly, “when in doubt, march on Argos!’”

The two generals roared aloud. But Gorgo quickly hushed them up. “Shhhh … Quiet, gentlemen. We must be discreet.”

Eurybiadas smiled. “Of course, Majesty,” he said. They bowed and quietly left. As they did so, Gorgo looked over her shoulder, almost as if she knew Sherzada had been listening in on the conversation.

The word ‘
Metis
’ was going through his head; a Greek word that was difficult to translate.
Metis
encompassed clearheaded wisdom, skilful intelligence, cunning, and above all, subtlety. And this word so perfectly defined Gorgo. The Queen liked to play the bright-eyed Gorgon with her terrible stare but it was the woman behind that mask that intrigued Sherzada.

Within moments, she swept into his cell, sat down on the stool in front of him, and motioned him to sit on the floor in front of her. Sherzada had been expecting some form of torture and brutal interrogation, but all he got were questions. Of course, he was fine with that, for he had nothing to hide – except one detail; and revealing
that
would lead to certain death.

Gorgo was methodical in her interview, looking directly into Sherzada’s eyes before each question. “Even though you have fought for the Persians, you have been trying to have me believe that you are not a Persian. Is that not so?” she asked.

He nodded.

“Then what are you?” she asked.

“I am a Saka,” he replied.

“A what?”

Sherzada laughed. “You are so like the Persians, in your ignorance and your arrogance.”

Gorgo’s eyes burned with rage. “Why do you take so much pleasure in likening us to the Persians?”

“Well, you are! Not least, in your claim of being superior to others. The first time Cyrus the Great encountered Spartan ambassadors, he asked the question, ‘Who are the Spartans?’ Your Spartan envoys were outraged. How could anyone not know about the Spartans? This was long before the Persians felt the sharp end of your spears. Today, you ask me a similar question. You ask me who my people are, even though your troops have fallen to the battle-axes of my warriors. Are you then not unlike the Persians, my Queen?”

“Careful, Barbarian, you test my patience,” she snapped.

“I hail from the Asiatic branch of the Scythian people. We call ourselves the Sakas. I am from the Sindhic tribal group. Though we speak a language that is in some ways similar to Persian, we are not Persians. We, the Scyths, once roamed the great Eurasian plains from eastern edges of Europe to deep into northern Asia. But now we are divided into clans, tribes and confederacies, spread out across the two continents.”

Gorgo mused for a moment and then said, “My father had a Scythian friend, an ambassador, from across the Euxine Sea. But he looked nothing like you.”

“True,” he said, “our culture is similar to the European Scyths, even though my appearance is not. But all Scythians were originally nomadic. As the Scyths have dispersed into different lands, they have assimilated with the peoples they live among, often intermarrying with native populations. Thus, my ancestors are both Scyths and locals and hence my dark skin.”

“But you Scyths are supposed to hate the Persians,” said Gorgo. “Was it not your people who killed Cyrus? Was it not to avenge that death that Darius invaded Scythian lands?”

Sherzada’s right eyebrow went up. He was impressed at her knowledge. “Those who killed Cyrus were the Massagatae, distantly related to us. And yes, Darius sought to avenge his predecessor’s death by invading Scythian lands. But the Persians have been at war with Scyths and other northern tribes for generations. You are right, indeed. Little love is lost between the Scyths and the Persians.”

“Then why have such ancient enemies of the Persians fought on their side against us?”

“A long story, my Queen.”

“Which I would like to hear,” she insisted.

“Many generations ago, my people migrated from the northern Asiatic plains, to land you call India. My ancestors occupied the northern half of valley of the River Indus, including a fertile land irrigated by the five main tributaries of the Indus – the Land of the Five Rivers –
Punj-Aab.
This is my homeland, just across the eastern edges of the Persian Empire. Even though I may look like an Indian, I consider myself a Saka.”

Gorgo gave him a quizzical look and said, “My father told me it takes three months to travel to the Persepolis. How far is your land from there?”

“The furthest end of the Persian Empire is another two months’ journey from Persepolis, and my home is less than a week’s ride beyond that.”

Gorgo’s eyes widened as her beautiful chin dropped. It was clear that she was unable to comprehend the distances involved. Sherzada could not help smiling at her amazement.

But he continued nonetheless. “Darius first avenged the death of Cyrus by subjugating the Massagetae. Then he went to war against the northern Scyth, but they humiliated him badly. Then he went to war against us across the great mountain ranges. My grandfather, who was then the High King of the Sakas of the Indus, decided to stop the Persians in the north-western mountains, before they could reach the plains where our homesteads lay. Our warriors rode up to a high mountain pass, known as the Iron Gates, and there they blocked the Persian advance. In spite of their best attempts, the Persians could not force the pass. After thirty days of hard, ceaseless fighting, the two armies were exhausted. Though the Persians had suffered severe casualties, our army was even more dangerously depleted. Our warriors could not continue the struggle for very much longer. My grandfather also knew that once his army fell back, nothing could stop the Persians from ravaging the Indus Valley and seizing our homesteads and despoiling our lands. He was forced to accept a compromise. He offered Darius earth and water as tokens for their submission to the Persian King as long as the Persians agreed not to cross into the Saka lands. But Darius was reluctant to accept this compromise. He believed that victory was at hand and wanted to continue the fight. However, his generals told him that pursuing such a victory might be their undoing. They said the army was exhausted and could not continue the struggle any longer. So finally Darius agreed to accept the offer of earth and water, provided the Saka gave him the best of their warriors to fight his wars in the West.