The Queen of Sparta (17 page)

The handsome Dardanus and I had been lovers for a while, but he had recently taken a younger mistress. When I learned of it, my first reaction was to kill myself. But on reflection, I felt if one of us was to die, better it were he.

Among those who would remain behind with Mardonius were Bubares the husband of my dear friend Gygaea, Princess of Macedon, and the brilliant Artabazus. Persia’s most capable generals. If they survived the war, they would find a way to save the Persian Empire from further collapse and thus prevent the Greeks of Asia from becoming free.

Initially, Mardonius complained about Xerxes’ decision, but in the end he had to accept given that he had been long pestering the Great King to allow him to take over the invasion.

So now, I am escorting Xerxes back from Greece to Sardis – Thus I have succeeded, little sister, in achieving what you had asked of me. I have split the Persian army into two!

“So, it was you, my Queen,” whispered Sherzada, “who split the entire Persian army.”

“Well, Artemisia did that. I only gave her the idea. But the letter is not finished,” smiled Gorgo as she passed him the last parchment to read.

Among those I asked Xerxes to leave behind to support Mardonius is a Scythian prince from a land beyond the Persian Empire. He is a good man and a friend. He fights only for the Persians because honour demands it. He too is to be sacrificed for the cause of our liberty. The meaning of his name, incidentally, is similar to that of your husband.

Looking up to Sherzada, Gorgo asked, “What is your name?”

“Sherzada,” he replied curtly. “Son of the lion,” he admitted.

“Lion-cub,” she said, “just like
Leonidas
. So you do have something in common with my late husband. This, at least, clears up a little curiosity I’ve had. And now there is another besides Aristeides who can vouch for you at your trial.”

But Sherzada knew that if the Queen of Sparta knew the truth, she more than anyone would want him dead.

CHAPTER 20

THE END OF A WAR?

Sparta

The following morning

“Is our guest still alive?” came a voice from the hall.

Gorgo came out to find Euro standing with his helmet cradled in his arm.

“He is,” she answered, offering him a chair.

“In one piece, I hope?”

“Go and see it for yourself, if you doubt me,” she said, sitting down in front of him.

“I do not doubt you, cousin. But Pausanias wanted to make sure the prisoner had not met some unfortunate accident in our absence.”

“True. He could have easily ended up at a bottom of an empty well,” said Gorgo, with a mischievous glint in her eye. “But tell me, how was Corinth?”

Euro sat down beside her. “It appears we are becoming unpopular throughout Greece, not least because of our instructions to all cities to dismantle their fortifications and build no new walls. They are all angry about that.”

It had originally seemed a good idea to encourage the Greek states to resist the Persians together in the open battlefield rather behind their respective walls, but Gorgo now realized the resentment it could have caused.

“And that was not all,” Euro continued. “A number of delegations questioned Sparta’s right to lead both the land and naval forces of the Hellenic League. They insisted on a shared command. When Pausanias told them to go to Hades, some of the delegates told him to stop treating them like his Helots.”

Gorgo could quite imagine the scene.

“Pausanias’ temper did not help,” Euro went on. “He called the Megarians spineless for running away from battle at Plataea, and cast similar aspersions against our Corinthian hosts. But what really annoyed the delegates was that he had invited a Theban delegation, led by Asopodorus, son of Timander, who had commanded their cavalry at Plataea, to the Conference, and without consulting anyone. Most of our allies regard the Thebans as traitors who fought for the enemy. But Pausanias believed the Theban presence at the Conference would encourage other pro-Persian Greeks to join the League also. The Plataeans told Pausanias that if Thebans could come to this conference, the Argives should be invited to the next one, which infuriated Pausanias no end. But tell me, what of our prisoner?”

“He is a strange one, indeed. Even though he has fought against us, I do not think he is our enemy. And sometimes I forget I am talking to a foreigner. There is absolutely nothing Barbaric about him.”

“So you don’t want him dead, after all?” Euro laughed.

“I don’t know, but perhaps I can get one last bit of useful information out of him,” she said, gathering her things to leave.

“You and your scheming!” Euro continued to laugh.

For the first time, she acknowledged Sherzada’s courtesy in rising for her with a smile. Agathe placed a small table in front of the stool. Then she fetched some parchment, some ink and a writing instrument and placed them all on the table.

“If you would be so kind, my Prince, to write down the names of all the Spartans who were bribed by the Persians?”

Agathe brought the torch closer and Gorgo hovered over Sherzada’s shoulder. The very first name he wrote caused her to gasp, but she told him to go on, and so he did.

Afterwards, Gorgo gave the parchment to Agathe, who quickly disappeared outside. The door slammed shut behind her.

“So, what is to be my fate,” he asked, “now that I have given you all you could want?”

“You will soon find out soon enough. The Gerousia meets tomorrow.” She searched for a reaction in Sherzada’s expression or body language, but found none.

Agathe quickly returned along with the other servants, carrying trays of bread and meat, cheese, fruits and honey-cakes.

Sherzada had eaten nothing but stale bread since his capture. Gorgo continued to study him as he ate without hurry. She was not without admiration. Here was a man unconcerned of his fate.

Just then, the door opened again and this time it was Euro, with Sherzada’s list in his hand. Gorgo introduced Euro to Sherzada. Euro was surprised at Sherzada’s excellent command of Greek and soon they were talking of Plataea.

“The moment you fell, your men went crazy,” Euro was saying. “They fought like demons despite being woefully outnumbered. So strong was their fury that we were forced back. This does not usually happen to us Spartans. But as soon as we regrouped, Scythian cavalry charged us from across the river, allowing your men to extricate themselves.”

“So my men survived?”

“Aye.”

At last, a smile appeared on Sherzada’s face.

The door opened and a weary-looking Pausanias entered the room. He looked at Sherzada and then to Gorgo and said, “Is this not the man in whose heart you wanted to bury a sword? So what are you trying to do now, cousin? Feed him to death?”

With that, Pausanias sat down on the floor next to Gorgo and started to devour the soft olive bread and tenderly roasted lamb that was placed before him. “I am pleased you are giving our guest a proper meal and not the tasteless gruel we Spartans pass for food.”

“You mock our Spartan ways, Regent?” asked Gorgo.

“I am afraid,” he replied, “I have recently discovered I am not a typical Spartan after all – at least, where food is concerned. And as for our cousin Euryanax here, he is the only true Spartan among us … even though many in Sparta won’t consider him as one.”

It was a sensitive matter; so much so that Gorgo changed the subject. “Euro told me what happened at Corinth.”

Pausanias let out a sigh of frustration. “The less said about Corinth the better. This is the last time I’m going to that mad house. I hate those upstarts. Sparta did not save these Greeks to have them lord it over us.”

Then he turned to Sherzada and said, “I don’t know what will happen in the Gerousia tomorrow, but I need some urgent information. Persian survivors from Plataea were massacred at the Strymon crossing and their fleet was destroyed at Mycale. Tell me, what do you think the Persians will do next?”

Sherzada cleared his throat. “The main Persian fleet withdrew months ago. All the bigger squadrons from Phoenicia and Egypt returned to their home ports as soon as Xerxes left Greece. The naval force your fleet encountered at Mycale, I believe, was one of two Persian naval squadrons left behind to protect the Western Asiatic shores. From what I understand, your Europontid King Leotychidas caught the crews asleep on shore and destroyed them with overwhelming force. But the second squadron is still out there, and it is led by Phoenician admiral, Hanni, nicknamed
Barqa
– the Thunderbolt – one of Persia’s best naval commanders.

“And even though Alexander of Macedon may have killed a large number of survivors from Plataea, I am sure a Persian column under Artabaz and Burbaraz has escaped to Asia. They will be rallying what Persian forces that remain across the Aegean. Burbaraz is a veteran campaigner, having beaten off countless incursions of Celts, Getae and other tribes along the Danube with only a small force. And Artabaz is also among the ablest of Persia’s generals; a little unconventional, yet very dangerous. He will be difficult to defeat.

“Another Persian commander, Bogesh, still holds the stronghold of Eion in Thrace. He is a fanatic, and would destroy Eion before he surrenders it to you. Then there is Doriscus, not very important strategically, but the Persians will not give it up easily, either.”

Pausanias smiled and said, “Your information about the second squadron is corroborated by the latest news we have received. The Persians, it appears, have raided Didyma by sea, and burnt down Apollo’s temple there, one of the holiest of the Greek shrines, in retaliation for Mycale. There have been other sightings as well, even closer to our shores.

“So, what will the Persians do next?”

“What, indeed?” Sherzada replied. “The Persians have had enough of Greece for the time being. Mardonius, the driving force behind their invasion, is dead. Neither Artabaz nor Burbaraz nor even Bogesh have the will or the means to take the war back into Greece. And King Xerxes has more pressing matters to worry about. So, you should not expect the Persians to hurry back.

“The war is over. Of course, you can try and start a new war across the sea – in Ionia, Aeolia, Caria and elsewhere, but that would be a mistake. You might liberate some Greek cities, but others, as in Greece, will side with the Persians. And they will certainly make sure you get bogged down there. The Persians have all the advantages in Asia.”

Pausanias thought a moment. “If I understand you correctly, there is no Persian fleet between here and the eastern coast of the Mediterranean, excepting the one squadron you mentioned?”

Sherzada nodded.

“And what about Byzantium? I heard the Persians no longer control it.”

Sherzada shook his head. “I do not know. As you can appreciate, I have been tied up lately.”

Euro chuckled.

“But you should check,” Sherzada suggested.

Pausanias nodded, got up and left the room, munching on a leg of lamb. Euro followed him, still smirking.

Gorgo leaned closer to Sherzada. “He will check alright. Pausanias has been infatuated by this Byzantine girl, this Cleonice. Do you know her?”

“She is beautiful, my Queen, and charming too!”

Gorgo asked him whether she and Sherzada had been lovers. “Apparently, it was she and Aristeides who convinced Pausanias not to kill you at Plataea after you had been captured.”

“She is a friend,” he shrugged, “nothing else.”

Gorgo could not keep it inside her. She burst out, “You realise you might be executed tomorrow? You are so calm … unafraid … just … just like a …”

“… like a Spartan warrior facing certain death?”

“Yes,” replied Gorgo. “But you are not a Spartan. Why are you so unafraid?”

“My Queen, I have lost practically everyone I have ever loved. So I am not afraid of dying. But I also have my faith and I know that my God often works in mysterious ways. So whatever the outcome of this Gerousia of yours, my Queen, I shall embrace it – and happily.”

CHAPTER 21

GEROUSIA

Sparta

The following morning

The door suddenly opened wide. Two guards entered and began unshackling Sherzada. Gorgo and Euro followed, trailing a small group of Helots.

“We need to clean you up,” Gorgo said to Sherzada.

Euro pointed at the clothes and a suit of chain armour that the helots carried. Sherzada remembered seeing Mardonius wearing this particular set of clothes and armour. Had they been taken from his tent?

Euro took Sherzada to a pool by the courtyard. It was not that he avoided taking baths. On the contrary, he enjoyed them. Of course, he preferred a warm bath any day to a plunge in the river. But it appeared heating a bath was a luxury below the dignity of Spartan warriors.

As Sherzada entered the freezing water in nothing but his loincloth, Euro sniggered. “Not cold enough for you? This bath is warmer than the Eurotas this time of year. We bathe there in the river every morning.”

Two young male Helots entered the pool and gave him a quick scrub. Then, after he had dried himself, they helped him put on his new clothes. Full Persian military dress complete with golden fish-scale armour and armbands in addition to a dark blue silk cloak with etchings in gold. These had belonged to Mardonius, Sherzada recalled. The Spartans must have taken them from his tent after storming his camp.

With Sherzada looking once more like a warrior, Euro ordered the guards to escort him, unchained, to the Gerousia. Euro, Gorgo and Pleistarchus followed close behind. Sherzada marched in step with his guards; it was easy to get back into character. The distance from the Agiadae compound to the Gerousia hall was a short one. Soldiers marching through the city must have been quite a routine sight, for it was not until they reached the crowded agora that people started to notice him. It would have been a strange sight – a foreign warrior, not in chains – marching among Spartan soldiers.

Just beyond the Agora, Sherzada noticed a dark, forbidding structure. It was the Temple of Athena of the Brazen House. Standing on top of a hill in the city centre, this structure was the most defining feature of the Spartan Acropolis. And next to it was a building that looked rather like a theatre. This was the meeting hall of the Gerousia. Once inside the massive hall, Sherzada found his first impression confirmed. In the centre was a stage and around it were rows of seats arranged in the form of a co-centric semi-circle. Sitting in two consecutive rows of seats were around thirty men. Most of them were similarly attired, in long crimson cloaks. The similarities did not end there. All were grey-bearded and, in case they had any hair, grey-haired. None was below sixty. These were the men after whom the Gerousia – the Council of Elders – was named.

In the front row sat five men who wore white cloaks bordered with crimson. Except for one, they were all a little younger than the crimson-cloaked Elders. These were the Ephors, the elected magistrates whom Sherzada had seen in the Agora on his first day in Sparta, all sitting in the front row.

The Elders and the Ephors sat patiently, as if waiting to see a performance. He wondered at the irony of Spartans, who did not appreciate the dramatic arts and yet played out the drama of high politics in such a theatre.

Sherzada was escorted on to the stage and made to stand next to two large throne-like chairs. Little Pleistarchus sat on the chair closest to him; Gorgo took her position by his side. Pausanias soon arrived and sat on a low chair brought out for him and placed beside Pleistarchus. On the other chair sat a man with shifty eyes, a scrawny grey beard and a demeanour that managed to convey both a flickering impatience and a steadfast arrogance. Sherzada guessed this was Leotychidas, the Eurypontid King of Sparta.

Beside Leotychidas stood a young man in his late teens. He had long wavy brown hair and deep-set dark blue eyes, betraying both intelligence and malice. Sherzada guessed this must be Archidamus, Leotychidas’ grandson and heir apparent. When everyone was seated, Leotychidas requested the senior Ephor to open the session of the Gerousia. The man rose and began to read the case against “Scirzadus, a Persian general captured at Plataea whose life or death was now to be determined by the Gerousia.”

The explanation was lengthy, and Leotychidas cut it short, “The prisoner deserves to die. All we have to decide is how. I think the customary method is decapitation … or is it disembowelment? But first, I would like to report on the victory at Mycale. After that, we can decide on how to execute the prisoner.”

“Your Majesty,” said the Ephor, “the prisoner has to be tried before he can be executed. That is the Law. Moreover, I need not remind you that it is not customary among Spartans to gloat over victories. If you might recall, your predecessor, King Demaratus, was fined for boasting of his success at the Olympic Games.”

“I am not going to gloat about Mycale,” said Leotychidas, “at least not in the way the Regent Pausanias praised his little triumph at Plataea last week … or so I have been told.”

Pausanias turned red with rage, as Leotychidas proceeded to present the Mycale campaign as the greatest of Greek victories, overshadowing Plataea in every respect.

When Leotychidas stopped, the senior Ephor got up and asked if anyone had any questions.

Pausanias spoke at last. “Thank you, your Majesty, for that very enlightening report. So, I take it you have destroyed the entire Persian Aegean Fleet?”

“That is correct.”

“So, there are no Persian ships operating in the Aegean anymore?”

“None!”

“Then how does your Majesty explain the sightings of a large number of Persian warships in southern Aegean a few days after the battle of Mycale? These ships attacked the shrine of Apollo at Didyma. Four days ago, they sank an Aeginetan squadron off Hermione. And last night, Persian warships were seen off the island of Cythera, close to our own coast. If the Persian fleet perished at Mycale, what are Persian ships doing roaming the Aegean and attacking at will? Are these the ghosts of the ships you destroyed, your Majesty?”

Leotychidas shifted uncomfortably. “Perhaps they are reinforcements. I tell you, I destroyed the main Persian naval force at Mycale.”

“What you destroyed, your Majesty,” said Pausanias, “was a Persian naval squadron whose crews had beached their ships and gone to bed. You slaughtered them in their sleep. That is not a victory worthy of Sparta. And if I am not mistaken, your mission was not to destroy the Persian fleet but to support the Greek uprising in the cities of Samos and Chios. Instead of helping to liberate them, you went after an easier target. Your failure to come to their support compelled these cities to submit once more to the Persians. Samos is close to Mycale, and one of our oldest allies. You could easily have gone to its rescue. But you chose not to. Can your Majesty give the Gerousia a reasonable explanation as to why you failed to liberate Samos and Chios?”

It sounded peculiar to Sherzada that a king could be challenged thus, but this was the Spartan way. He looked at the Gerousia members and noticed many approving Pausanias’ exposition, several of them nodding vehemently, while Leotychidas fought to control his embarrassment and rage.

“My dear Pausanias,” said Leotychidas, “if you are so keen on proving me wrong, why don’t you go and chase away these mysterious Persian ships? And while you are at it, why don’t you liberate some of these enslaved Greek colonies you accuse me of ignoring?”

“It would be a great honour,” said Pausanias. “And one I would not take lightly.”

That concluded, the senior Ephor rose once more and laid down the general arguments for and against Sherzada’s execution. Afterwards, he asked if anyone had anything to add.

Gorgo drew herself to her full height and spoke with the regal authority Sherzada had forgotten she carried. “I have a few things to say, with the permission of the Gerousia, of course.”

The Ephor nodded.

“Prince Sherzada is not Persian. He is a Saka Prince, heir to the throne of a Scythian kingdom which lies beyond the eastern borders of Persia. He fought for the Persians at Plataea as well as at Thermopylae and his father died fighting against the Athenians at Marathon. In that sense you can regard him as an enemy. But he did not fight for the Persians willingly, rather the only reason he and his father fought in Greece was that they were obliged to do so. He did not fight us because he wanted to enslave us. He fought only for the freedom of his homeland.”

There were angry grumblings across the hall.

“Since his arrival in Sparta,” Gorgo continued, “Prince Sherzada has been helping us with vital military and political intelligence. He has helped us in the past also, though unwittingly. Since he is not a Persian, he owes them no loyalty. If we can forgive the Thebans even after they sided with Persia, why can we not forgive those like Prince Sherzada who are trying to help us even now?”

Pandemonium broke out throughout the hall, and Gorgo was obliged to wait for the angry shouts to die down before continuing. “Prince Sherzada has worked with Persian military intelligence, and has known much about Sparta, and what has been going on here. This list he has given us,” she said, raising a scrolled parchment in her hands, “has been corroborated by independent enquiries carried out by our own army, to which General Evaeneutus and Navarch Eurybiadas can attest. It is also backed up with evidence provided to us recently by the Athenians Archons, Aristeides and Xanthippus, that emerged while they were investigating their own traitors. I have no reason to doubt this list.”

The senior Ephor rose and asked Gorgo to share the list with the Ephors.

“If my understanding is correct,” Gorgo replied, “the Ephors have precedence in all legal matters, but on issues of security, it is the Kings who have precedence in their capacities as Supreme Commanders of the Army. A sensitive matter such as this must first be discussed among the Kings and their representatives. Then it will be brought to the attention of our Ephors who can initiate necessary legal action. With the Gerousia’s permission, I shall now show the list to the Kings.”

There were nods of approval. First, Gorgo gave the list to her son. Little Pleistarchus took one look at the list and his young face betrayed his shock. He looked at the list and then towards Leotychidas and then back to the list again, and once more towards Leotychidas. Before he could say anything, Gorgo took the list from him and gave it to Leotychidas. The Eurypontid King’s face turned white as he read it. His grandson reading over his shoulder also began to shudder.

Gorgo turned to the Gerousia again. “While his Majesty examines the list, I will ask Prince Sherzada to speak in his own defence.”

“Will there be a translator?” asked one of the elders of Gerousia rising from his chair. “How will we be able to understand him otherwise? All these Barbarians seem to say is Bar-bar-bar!”

Laughter echoed through the hall.

Gorgo smiled. “Good Heracleidas, I assure you an interpreter will not be necessary.” Then she nudged Sherzada forward.

Sherzada was at a loss, not knowing what he should say. So he said the first things that came to his mind in the best Dorian Greek he could muster.

Sherzada was prepared to die. But he also wanted the Spartans to know that he was a warrior just like them. He told the Gerousia about his origins and that of his people. He told them that they were also a great warrior nation. He told them of his admiration for Spartan warriors as well the wise politics of their kings. He praised both Cleomenes and Leonidas and said a kind word for Pleistarchus as well. He told them he had fought against the Spartans and knew how terrible a thing it was to face them in battle. So if the Gerousia wanted to approve his execution, he concluded, all he asked for was a warrior’s death. He said that Germanic warriors in the wild North of Europe preferred to die with swords in their hands. That was all he asked for.

When Sherzada stopped speaking, there was utter silence. He looked at the thirty or so faces in front of him, with thirty or so jaws dropped as far as they could possibly be.

It took Sherzada more than a moment to realize, but what had rendered them speechless was not exactly what he had said, but the manner in which he had said it. The last thing the Gerousia was expecting was a barbarian prisoner addressing them not only in perfect Greek and in their own dialect but in an accent spoken only by Spartan kings.

Amid this confusion, Gorgo took the list back from Leotychidas. Sherzada heard her whisper his ear, “Surely your Majesty knows what to say now.”

The King arose, cleared his throat and addressed the Gerousia. “Queen Gorgo has presented a compelling case. If the prisoner speaks to us in our language, like a Spartan, can he really be called a Barbarian? If he is passing vital information about the Persians to us, he is helping us and not them. If he is helping us uncover traitors in our midst, he is bolstering our own security. I see no reason to execute this prisoner, seeing how valuable he is to the interests of Sparta.”

For a moment more, there was silence.

Sherzada could see the stunned expressions of the elders and he could tell that some were not happy with Leotychidas’ words. As they rose to protest, a single clap was heard from the back – Euro. It was followed by another, this one from the corner of the retired generals, who still wore their armour in Gerousia. He saw an old man with a long grey beard and a tall walking stick clapping loudly. Sherzada recognized him from the night he and the other generals had come to visit Gorgo. It was the legendary lame Admiral Eurybiadas, who had the combined forces of Greece at the battles of Artemisium and Salamis. Other generals joined in. And then the clapping became pervasive, accompanied by shouts of approval, drowning out those voices that sought to protest the King’s verdict.