The Wooden Walls of Thermopylae Read Online Free PDF Page A

wrote last night, reader; it happens to men who live too long. But this morning I feel better and remember that trip to Aegina like it was yesterday. I slept long and deep that night, so much so that the first rowers climbing on board just before daylight failed to wake me. It was Ariston pushing his foot, none too gently, into my ribs that did that.
    “Wake up and get ready to hear the bad news.”
    He passed me a cup of weak wine and a crust of flat bread.
    “Eat this; it’ll stop you interrupting while I tell you something you won’t like.”
    He waited until I took a bite; then,
    “Xanthippus commands.”
    I spat the bread out.
    “Xanthippus? He’s the worst of them, he prosecuted my master; you weren’t there you didn’t hear what he said: the lies; if that bastard steps on this boat I’ll stick my knife in his lying throat.”
    I didn’t get any further as Ariston slapped me hard, made my teeth rattle, certainly made my head swim.
    “There’ll be no talk like that on this boat whatever the reason, understand?”
    He pushed his scarred face close up to mine.
    “That was for your own good, stop you saying anything that’d get you hung. Now listen to these three things and don’t forget them. First, Miltiades was my master before you were born so don’t talk to me about grief or revenge. Second, you talk mutiny on a trireme and you die and no one will speak for you, talk like that and even your mates agree when you get the drop. Final and most important, you don’t understand the politics, you’ve no idea what’s been going on. Lysias will fill you in when we sail, he’s trierarch.”
    He must have seen my expression because he said,
    “What? You don’t think Xanthippus would be stupid enough to command from Miltiades’s own flagship? You may hate him but better respect his intelligence. Now eat your bread and get your head thinking.”
    I finished the bread and watched as the rowers squeezed themselves onto the three tiers of benches. The sun was just visible, rising from below the night black waters. We pulled out of Piraeus with the figure of Lysias silhouetted in the trierarch’s chair.
    Theodorus set a slow pace and the chant of O op op op O op op op from the rowing benches was little more than a sigh. So smoothly did we leave that our wake resembled a murmur of gentle ripples. I discovered that four ships would travel to Aegina but we left alone: a fleet from Athens, however small, would be unwelcome. So my first glimpse of Xanthippus would be on hostile ground.
    Lysias called me over and I threaded my way gently between the rowers, taking care not to rock the boat.
    “Ariston tells me you are unhappy with our mission, Mandrocles.”
    He raised his hand to prevent me replying.
    “While you were away on Paros there were many changes, some of them unexpected. For the moment Xanthippusmakes common cause with Themistocles. This mission’s his idea but even you can understand that there’s no way he’d be an acceptable presence on Aegina; so Xanthippus commands.”
    Way behind us I could see a tiny speck pulling out of the harbour, perhaps with Xanthippus in the trierarch’s chair.
    “These are strange times, Marathon changed everything; even a handful of the most conservative aristocrats. While some of them: Megacles, Kallixenos, maybe even Aristides want to turn back to the old days, men like Xanthippus know that’s not possible. Darius, if the rumours aren’t true and he’s still alive, won’t let us. He’ll be back and this time he’ll be even angrier.”
    He motioned to Theodorus to increase the stroke and maintain the distance from our fellow conspirators.
    “So even though Xanthippus and Themistocles remain enemies they’re prepared to cooperate until they fully understand how the land lies.”
    This was the longest conversation I’d had with Lysias even though I’d sailed and fought with him for six years. He was a taciturn man and if it weren’t for his love of poetry,