#it just goes straight down..... i even fished up all the gunk but nothing happened.....

[sunuism]

regularly having to get the maintenance people to come and unclog my drain is kinda embarrassing like.... im really that nasty

[deerheadlights]

This picture has nothing to do with Chapter 8, but whatever

Marduniya was led to a room with little cloisters of straw pallets. “Bed,” the man said, in an exaggerated slow drawl like Marduniya was a lack-wit. Some blue tattooed men were already sleeping in some palettes. So much for being a guest. When Tydeus the Theban had told him his story, and that he would take him back to Persia in exchange for help and connections, he had believed him. More fool you, everyone knows Yauna… or Hellenes are liars. According to all he had heard of Athens and the like, lying was their principal occupation.

He had to escape, but right now he was so tired, between his fever, the ship capsizing, and his anxiety during the voyage to Rhodes he was exhausted. Persians just weren’t meant for boats.

He tried to get to sleep but his thoughts kept going to before the battle. On the estate by the Caspian sea his father had managed, he had lived with his brothers and sisters. The war seemed like an exciting diversion, there was no thought in his mind that it could ever threaten his home. Looking at the army amassed in Zadrakarta and knowing one 7 times larger would be meeting by the gulf, he had felt invincible. But now that the Western half of the empire was undefended, who knew what would happen? Egypt would fold in a second, they were always rebelling, and Babylon… from there it was a straight shot to Elam, Anshan and Varkana, the heart of the Persian empire! His father was dead, he had no idea what had happened to his brothers, his mother and sisters could be completely undefended with a horde of Yauna heading their way! He tossed and turned on the pallet, it was uncomfortable anyway. He wished he had his short sword and bow, but that Tydeus had probably taken them with the rest of his things. He thought with irritation to him giving away the gold plaques from his spare tunic to those fisherpeople. They had told the story of the first song, a poet chastising the hunter who killed a crane in the middle of its mating dance. All alone they didn’t mean anything… just like him.

 He awoke to the sound of a stick hitting a wall, and then hitting him. Someone was shouting what he could only assume was “Get up! Get up!” and various other unsavory things. He got up as quickly as he could. After the past few days, his trousers were stiff and uncomfortable from salt and sweat, but he’d be damned if he walked around bare-legged like some sort of prostitute like these people.

 All the other men started to leave like they knew where they were going, so Marduniya decided to play along. Please don’t be quarry work… But to his surprise, these large men quickly engaged themselves in scrubbing a floor. When he took too long staring, the same man who had brought him to the bed yesterday clipped him on the head with the stick. He pointed at the floor and shouted in Greek. Somebody had spewed all down a staircase that led to an ornate door. Marduniya didn’t need to be told twice, he got down and tried his best to look busy. He tried to hail his companions in Persian, Babylonian and Phoenician, but they didn’t acknowledge him.

A descendant of the tribe of Arsama, brought down to scrubbing vomit off floors, maybe the Greeks are right and the gods enjoy laughing at our expense. The wise god Ahura Mazda was supposedly above such things. Since the other men didn’t acknowledge him, he moved closer to the door where there was more room to sprawl out. Getting all the gunk out of the tiny rivulets of grout between the mosaic tiles was going to be a nightmare.

 As he was wringing out his rag he heard a groan come from within that sounded… familiar. He snuck a glance at the others. They seemed thoroughly absorbed in their wretched task. Slowly he got up, and cracked the door. It was the girl, Alkyone! With embarrassment, he remembered the first time they had spoken. He was in the throes of a fever dream, and had thought she was some sort of yazata. What had happened, was she sick? A beam of light came through the door and hit her face, causing her to open her eyes. She said something in Greek, but he recognized his name.

 “Yes, Marduniya. Clean the floors.” He said in Greek, recalling what the foreman had commanded. She squinted at him in confusion. Then she said slowly, in some passable Persian, “Marduniya… Marduniya I think it was bad coming here! The people… they made my wine bad.” They had poisoned her? Drugged her? That would explain the vomit.

He heard the foreman’s shouting behind him. Great, now I’m really dead. He ran into the room yelling, but to Marduniya’s surprise Alkyone yelled back, clutching her head. It must really be pounding. The man looked chastened. She said something else in a low whisper. Unfortunately, Marduniya had not spent enough time in Ionia before to learn any Greek, but he could hear the tone of orders with a little sweetness laid over them in any language. He went out the door and motioned for Marduniya to leave as well. Alkyone rubbed her eyes, “I said you are my…” she cast her hand about trying to think of the word and looked uncomfortable, “slave. So you don’t clean the floors.” The foreman looked on in irritation. Can’t speak Persian either? Good to know. Even if he was her slave, staying in her bedroom would have been inappropriate, he wasn’t a eunuch after all. “My Thanks, get well.” he told her before walking out. If what she said was true, that these people weren’t on their side after all… well at least he had someone else who wanted to escape.

---

 Glaukos led Xanthe towards the stable on the side street. The horse was unperturbed at the bustle on the street, unlike Glaukos. Vendors with all sorts of food and goods lined the alleyways, he passed by one hawking fried octopus on a stick. At home that had been a rare treat. No, this is Tydeus’s money, I’m not spending it on trifles! Though if they had information then maybe…

He reached the stable with his self discipline intact. A groom looked up from currying a gray horse. “Have you got the boarding fee?” “Tydeus didn’t say anything about a boarding fee, he’s a guest of the master of the house.” “Well he must have not mentioned it because it’s so obvious. A quarter of a Daric should be sufficient.” A quarter of a Daric! That was almost enough to buy a horse, depending on the quality. A peal of high pitched laughter broke out behind him. “Ajax! You never told me you had taken up common robbery!” Glaukos turned around and immediately averted his eyes. A beautiful woman was standing behind him, her bleached blonde hair arranged in a tendriled bun and lavender chiton draped artfully with two large gold pins. She had been alone. In his own village, no woman that age, obviously married already, would go out without a headcovering, let alone by herself into the night. “I was going to let myself get haggled down, Antiope, don’t be such a marm.”

“I was just worrying about your hide, if Euphenes knew you were making his guests pay to board their horses he would rip you a new one.”

She turned to Glaukos. “New in town? Or are you dinner entertainment, like me?” Was she a flute girl? No, they usually travelled with their master. Maybe she was one of those Athenian hetairas. Glaukos had heard about women, sometimes slaves who earned their freedom by being dinner companions who played instruments and their wits. If she is, then she can’t be too offended by me looking at her bare head. “Um, no despoina, just a [shiled carrier name].” “Despoina! Now that’s a laugh.” Her hazel eyes seemed to sparkle in the stables firelight. “Who would your master be, in that case? Nevermind, you can just point him out for me.” The rings on her fingers bit into Glaukos’s skin as she pulled him through the side entrance. Even through the side entrance, the house looked spectacular to him, the stucco walls in the hallway had the labors of Hercules painted upon them, and the floor was a dark and light checked mosaic pattern. He had seen from the outside that it was a two story house, a kind of luxury not available in his village. “Where are you from, Glaukos?” she asked him.

“From the bay by Olympos on Karpathos.” “Is that by Rhodes? I’ve heard there’s some good swordfish from there.”

“Yes, in the spring sometimes we can get some swordfish, mostly my family goes after bream, they’re wider so you can get some better fish cakes out of them, my father always says.” Oh gods, why are you telling her your father’s fishing tips, what is wrong with you?

“Oh really? I must take you along to advise me, I just adore fish cakes.”

They stepped past the threshold into the andron. The symposium was about to start, a flute girl was testing the reed, a boy with a tambourine gave it a few practice jingles. A slave poured some water into the wine container, a beautiful amphora with a Scythian shooting birds painted on it. Glaukos saw Tydeus and gave him an awkward grin. He stared back expressionless. Crap.

“Antiope! I was worried you weren’t going to make it!” A man with the physique of one of the sculptures outside the house lounged on a kline. You could see all of his muscles and more through his oiled white chiton. Though he was talking with Tydeus like an old friend and had a matching beard, he seemed years younger. “So sorry, I was just conversing with Tydeus son of Medon’s charming boy here about fish cakes.” She flashed a white smile.

“Oh, well, if he can charm the brilliant Antiope, then by all means let him stay, right Tydeus?” The host, Euphenes’s dark eyes had a glint in them. Tydeus gave a tight smile.

“Of course, I wouldn’t want to presume upon your hospitality…”

“Nonsense, the free conversation of the symposium is my greatest joy in these troubled times, and what better way to share it than with young men with a different perspective.” Euphenes gestured to a kline and Glaukos laid down awkwardly. At home, they had just eaten sitting down, since they didn’t have any slaves to serve at their leisure. He prayed he wouldn’t spill anything on himself. More guests began to arrive, both severe, older men with dark beards and younger clean shaven ones.

“I’m glad these troubled times haven’t decreased the size of your parties.” Tydeus said dryly. “Alas, the list of people who can attend has shrunk. I truly miss Podaleirus’s wit and presence. A drink to his memory.” Glaukos saw Tydeus’s face twist for a moment, but he drank deep for the toast.

“In fact, let’s all toast to friends who aren’t here.” The buzz of conversation in the room died down as they all took a toast. He noticed that Antiope had greeted most of the guests, and was now sharing the kline with Euphenes.

“So, Tydeus, you said you saw most of the battle first hand.”

“Yes, it was a river battle like his last skirmish with Memnon of Rhodes. He pinned the Great King between the mountains and the coast so he couldn’t spread his troops and surround him, then he punched a hole through there left wing while his own left held, and all his horse boys scythed straight for the center going for the king. I saw someone go down in that golden chariot, then all hell broke loose.”

“Yes, I got the news that the King is alive, but Alexander has captured his household...and Iphicrates”

“His household?”

“Yes, the noble Persians like to bring their wives and children along instead of just getting camp women like everyone else. Honestly, sometimes you can talk to one and they seem almost normal, and then they pull out something like that that makes you remember why we have the term barbarians!”

“Well in that case it seems Ionia is all but free then, what better ransom for the King’s mother, wife and children could Alexander demand? Imagine, the aims of the Persian wars, finally realized!” a younger man exclaimed. Glaukos found himself in the group voicing their approval. “Zeus Soter, I cannot think of a worse thing than that Macedonian tyrant claiming to have freed Asia.” An older man besides Euphenes groused.

“Wouldn’t it be worse if Ionia was not freed at all?” Glaukos said, annoyed at the timidity in his voice.

“No, because now their grain prices will be fluctuating like the waves in autumn, while my warehouse is sitting bare!” Glaukos was shocked, he’d never thought about something like grain prices driving politics.

“That and the disgusting hypocrisy of it all! Patting Athens and Sparta on the head, telling them Macedon is the real saviour of the Hellenes! All while keeping men like my son in their regiments as hostages.”

“Yes Phokas, we know all about your son.”

“So what are we going to do?”

“Not much we can do, if what Tydeus says is true. Unless you have an idea, friend?” Euphenes turned to him.

“I captured a noble Persian, hoping he would have some family that could help. Looks like most of it was killed in the battle, and that the civil situation in Persia is worse than we’d feared.”

“What’s bad for Persia could be good for us. He can’t stretch his army out forever, if he goes deeper into Persia, then we’ll only have to deal with Antipater and the garrison. And who knows, maybe he’ll bite off more than he can chew and die in some ditch in Bactria?”

Euphenes sighed, “So as usual, our prescribed course is patience and waiting. Well at least I have you all to while away the time with.”

From there the symposium became a true drinking party. They played [throw the lees] and Glaukos missed spectacularly. Probably because he had had too much to drink, but he’d never had such sweet wine. As the party was ending, everyone started to rise shakily from their klines, and Glaukos followed suite. “Where are you off to?” asked their host, “You and Tydeus will be staying here in my home of course! I insist.” Glaukos stammered his thanks.

Euphenes walked up to him and spoke in a lower tone, “I am so glad that Tydeus has found someone else, he has been so torn up after Podaleirus died…” Wait, does he mean it that way? He’d heard in Crete two men would love each other like man and wife, and also some places like the mainland, but never in his village. “Um, I don’t really know what you mean…”

“Oh, sorry, I just thought a handsome boy like you…”

“I’m just, uh, assisting him.” “Of course.” He gave Glaukos a condescending smile. It crossed his mind that maybe running off with a man he knew nothing about hadn’t been the best plan. I really hope that’s not what he was thinking about when he said yes to me…

 Later, they were laying in the same room in the dark, Tydeus on the bed and Glaukos on a palette he had discreetly moved to the furthest corner of the room. “So, did you hear anything interesting?”

“Just what you heard. Though I didn’t think that people would be so concerned about grain prices…”

“Grain makes the wheels of the world run. You can’t eat gold after all.”

“I did notice, that you looked angry when that man suggested we just wait and let Alexander the Macedonian take Persia.”

“These Athenians care about the welfare of their city, but I don’t have a city to care about anymore. They just want Alexander far away, but I want him close, so I can see an end to him.”

“... Is it true, that all the Thebans were sold as slaves?”

“Yes, but Alkyone and I fled… her father was one of the Boeotarchs, the leaders of Thebes and their rebellion. So Alexander couldn’t afford to have someone like Alkyone alive, because if someone married her he would have the legitimacy to take up the cause again, you see?”

“Uh… sort of. But even if he did that, maybe we should wait until he frees Ionia? So at least something good can come from the bad?”

Tydeus snorted “I don’t give a fuck about Ionia.”

Glaukos hadn’t heard him talk like that before. “Well I do! It seems like you nobles only care about yourselves and your storehouses.”

There was a long pause. “My father was born a slave, you know.” Glaukos didn’t say anything. He had known only one slave in his life, the village’s head man owned him, but he just helped out on his farm, and hadn’t seemed too different from Glaukos and his family.

“He was freed before I was born, but he was a farm slave. Normally a man like me and the aristos in that room would never even speak, but when I was young, Podaleirus, Alkyone’s father, got injured while hunting and they took him to our cottage outside of the walls of Thebes for help. He was only there for one night but he said we were guest friends now. I never expected to see him again, but after he had recovered he came to visit. From there we became friends, and he would take me around town.” Glaukos felt some discomfort at having such a personal tale revealed to him, but curiosity won out and he said nothing.

“We raced a lot. When the Olympic games were called, we both went for an event. It was around that time the Sacred Band was formed, and we were chosen since we had won our events. Those were the glory days of Thebes, fighting under Epamonidas, defeating the Spartans! At his side, I became someone important, not just the son of a freed slave.” There was a pause again.

“Podaleirus gave me everything, just because I’d given him my cloak to lay on when he hurt himself hunting boar as a boy. And the Macedonians killed him, speared him in the back. How can I call myself a man if I don’t get revenge for him? How would the furies ever leave me?” he sighed.

“It’s true, I’m selfish. I just want to kill Alexander for ruining my life and then go crawl in a hole somewhere. That’s what you’ve signed up for. If you want to go back to Karpathos, I’ll drop you off on the way to Rhodes.”

Glaukos stared at the ceiling in the dark. How could this man make an epic quest for vengeance sound so depressing? “So you didn’t take me along because you wanted… um… Euphenes said…”

“Did he suggest something to you? For someone who claims to have the blood of the Alcimonids he sure is classless. No!”

“Oh in that case… will you teach me to fight? Then I’ll stay on.”

“You really didn’t understand my story did you… but yes I’ll teach you if that what you want.”