The Wooden Walls of Thermopylae Read Online Free PDF Page B

ashore and knew the crew felt the same even the steady greybeards. Perhaps that’s what prompted Lysias to what he did next. Something I’d never seen him do before and can’t remember him ever repeating. He called the crew together and spoke to us as a body. He spoke well, which surprised me.
    “Listen carefully, lads: you’re in the service of the city of the Goddess even though I can’t tell you what we’re here for. I know most of you were at Marathon and that the ones who weren’t wish they had been.”
    Lysias had fought in the front rank as an officer and carried the wound scars with pride; wounds that had, luckily for him, kept him away from the debacle on Paros.
    “I know how you feel about Strategos Miltiades who led us there because I feel the same. Don’t let that anger guide your hands or tongues. What we do here is important so keep out of trouble, don’t attract attention and be ready to obey orders.”
    He stopped speaking and deliberately ran his eyes across the faces of every man. I knew we’d arrived at the difficult bit.
    “There will be four other Athenian triremes arriving here tonight and some of them will be crewed by men who I know aren’t friends of yours … particularly after what has just been done to our leader by the men they follow.”
    They knew what was coming, particularly the Thranitai: elite top deck oarsmen; the bowels, heart and stomach of the Demos. There was a sharp intake of breath starting with them and spreading across the Athene Nike. Lysias gave this no time to gestate rather pushing on to his main point.
    “So let’s get this out of the way now.”
    He paused; it was like watching as man teetering on the prow of a rammed pentecontor.
    “The man who accused him, condemned him to wretched death, penniless in a filthy cell leads our mission.”
    A series of howls and curses filled the air aimed at one name, which Lysias had to shout out to be heard.
    “Xanthippus. Yes, Xanthippus – now get over it. Remember the man who fought beside us at Marathon, not the one who prosecuted Miltiades.”
    Not an easy thing to quieten sailors though. It was then that Lysias displayed an aptitude for oratory I’d never suspected.
    “Well, answer this then. Who leads the city now? Come on, isn’t a difficult question. Who puts these men in power? I’ll give you a clue; you’re on this ship. Yes you, you rowers; democrats to a man blame yourselves for who we’re now led by.”
    I don’t know what he’d intended to say but it was apparent that whatever it was he changed his mind at the last instant shouting out the new word.
    “Politicians. It’s all fucking politics now. Your fucking politics, the monster you’ve created.”
    They’d mostly stopped howling him down now, they were interested and slipped back into their Agora mode. Strange that a word that doesn’t really mean anything should have that effect; politics or citying? What does that mean? But they didn’t take it literally: they knew he was talking about the men who led the city and how they made up the rules as they went along. And it seemed he saved his best Kottabos flick for last.
    “And I’ll tell you this. I’ll tell you which fucking politician dreamed up this mission and gave Xanthippus his command.”
    I’m sure I was wrong but for a moment I thought he was enjoying himself, thought maybe he wouldn’t do too badly in the Agora himself if he fancied a change in occupation. He spun out the expectant silence before uttering four syllables,
    “Themistocles.”
    He let that settle in before he landed the killer blow.
    “Themistocles put Xanthippus in charge so that’s who you take your orders from, understand?”
    Once he’d finished, Ariston spoke for the crew: for all ofthem and order was restored.
    “The trierarch’s explained it all to us now, mates, hasn’t he? So let’s be getting onto the harbour for a few drinks orderly like and stay close to the barky and in range of the