CHAPTER XXII
And, so, here I was. Hunched in the bowels of the sacred cave of Poseidon Helikonios, watching the murderer peering uncertainly into the gloom from the entrance, and trying to distinguish my form from the many statues that graced the cave floor.
I saw his head lift expectantly, as I drew my father's old short sword across a bronze incense burner squatting next to me.
”Yes, I knew you would be here,” he called softly. “The gods will not help you now, little priest. Your life has run its course, and this is the end of the race. You might as well accept your fate and come out. I promise you that I will end it quickly and you will not have to suffer. That is a greater reward than many men receive at the end of their lives.”
I drew a deep breath and replied, “I am not coming out, guestslayer. But you may come in, and be cursed by Poseidon!” I saw the wolfish grin curve up the corners of his mouth, and he began to stalk slowly into the cavern, still unsure of my location in its dark interior. His sharp sword swished too and fro in front of him, as if it were testing the air for thickness.
”I am back here, Nolarion,” I called out. “In the very back of this sacred ground.
Are you going to compound your crimes by killing a priest of Poseidon on the god's own holy site?”
The animal-like grin remained plastered on the big magistrate's face like a fresco on a wall. He stopped about ten paces from me, peering closely and trying to distinguish me from the nearby statue of Cycnus, who as the son of Poseidon had been slain by Achilles in the war against Troy. Since Cycnus had been invulnerable, the great Achilles had killed him by strangling him with his helmet strap. It flashed through my mind that at least I would not be killed in that fashion, since neither Nolarion nor I wore a helmet. Strange, some of the thoughts that assail one at times of danger. At any rate, I sidled a step closer to the statue to make it that much more difficult for Nolarion to spot me.
”Oh, I do not think I have to worry about that, do I?” he protested with a chuckle.
”After all, I have saved Priene from ruin by keeping the news of these guestslayings a secret. And when my son wins the pentathlon today, I think that Poseidon will certainly forgive any small transgressions I may have committed.” He was still staring into the gloom, trying to distinguish me from the luckless Cycnus. Outside the sun was just breaking over the eastern horizon and throwing long shadows to the west from the several statues standing at the cave's entrance.
”Small transgressions?” I repeated incredulously. “You have killed four people, three of them guests in our city! Surely you realize that your shade will find no rest for these evil deeds.”
”I think we will let the gods decide about that,” he said mildly. “I believe that when the time comes for my spirit to pass to the underworld that the god Hades will completely understand my motivations and actions.” He stooped to strike the ground with his unencumbered hand out of respect for the lord of the underworld.
”Why did you do it? Why did you kill them all? How can you justify the murders of the city's champion athlete and three guests to the Games?” I needed to have him confess his crimes out loud, to confirm my suspicions. He stopped for a moment and looked cautiously around him. Then he turned his attention back to me and my marble companion.
”You mean you do not know why I killed them?” he inquired in a puzzled tone.
“You really do not know? I knew you were no sophist, Bias, traveling from city to city spreading your wisdom, but I did not realize you were a complete dolt.” He smiled complacently and stepped a pace nearer to me.
”Obviously Tyrestes had to die, so that his efforts would not distract Endemion from winning his events. My son was the better athlete, of course, but he needed to compete against the visitors from the other Ionian cities, not against a citizen of our own fair Priene. After all, it is his fate to carry on the glory that I obtained for the city twenty years ago at the same Games. Tyrestes had no such legacy to fulfill and might have kept my boy from achieving his destiny. I obviously could not allow that to happen.”
”But if Endemion was the better athlete, then he would have won against Tyrestes anyway!” I objected, hoping to keep the magistrate talking as long as possible. A look of derision crossed his face.
”Bias, you know as well as I do that the gods will always play their little games.” He waved his sword about to emphasize his words. “There is no telling what they may have come up with if I had not leveled the playing field.” He took another step forward.
”And Habiliates?” I asked. “Was it necessary to level the playing field there as well?”
”Of course it was,” he said. “He was much too good a runner to be allowed to continue competing. Just think how it would have delighted the gods to keep my son from winning by favoring an athlete from Miletus! Even you, Bias, have to admit that Miletus has more than enough power and glory already. Certainly, we do not need to supply them with more! It is hard enough keeping our independence here in Priene as it is. As a magistrate, I can tell you that Miletus is constantly encroaching upon our city's territorial prerogatives and trade routes. We have enough to contend with in holding the empire of Lydia at bay on our eastern borders. Let me tell you, young man, it is not easy to compete every day with the greatest city in the Greek world.”
It was difficult to believe that this murdering hound was lecturing me on power politics, but there it was. Anything to keep him talking.
”How did you manage to damage his chariot without being seen?” I inquired curiously. “Surely there were citizens about who recognized you sawing that axle?”
”Not at all,” he demurred. “I did my work in the hours of darkness. None of the
horses or chariots are guarded at night, you know. It was a matter of only a few moments work. Who would ever tamper with a chariot or animal destined to compete in the games the next day? Our security in such matters in woefully lacking. I really must speak to my fellow magistrates about that.” He appeared to be making a mental note in his head.
”And so that brings us to Polearchus and Machus,” I concluded. “Did you kill them because they were Miletians too?”
”No, of course not! Well, perhaps partially,” he confessed. He was
only about six paces from me now and presumably could distinguish me from the statue of Cycnus. “Miletus is much to powerful a state to insult to its face and make it a wrathful enemy. I must admit it was hard on my conscience at first to kill Tyrestes. It was hard but necessary. But the Miletian and his slave? That was enjoyable! But, naturally, the real reason they had to die was that they were going to announce the guestslaying of Habiliates to all the crowds! Surely you can see that would have been disastrous. I hope I am a better magistrate than to allow such a catastrophe as that to happen to my home city!”
”But you are the one that caused the problem in the first place,” I pointed out in an exasperated tone. “If you had not killed Habiliates, they would not have had anything to tell the people!”
”Yes, I suppose that is true enough,” he admitted. “But the charioteer was killed for an entirely different reason. He had to be removed in order to eliminate Miletian competition. Why, Polearchus and that slave were being hardheaded and unreasonable! Could I allow Priene to be injured by their unreasonable attitude? Remember, Bias, moderation in all things is a virtue. We must not allow ourselves to become so embroiled in a matter that we lose our sense of moderation, as Polearchus did.”
Moderation in all things! It was crystal clear now that the gods had robbed Nolarion of his own sense of moderation, and indeed, of his mind as well. But there was still one last thread to be pulled in.
”And me?” I asked quietly. “Why was it necessary to kill me? I did not know that you were the murderer at that time.” He looked at me in bewilderment for a moment.
”I am sorry about that, you know,” he replied. “I did not wish to injure you or caus
e you pain. But it was clear that you were drawing too close to the answers. And besides, what else could I do at the time? You were right there with the Miletian! How could I eliminate him without your seeing everything? And you may have recognized me anyway! Really, Bias, that was a ridiculous question.” He took one more slow step towards me and then grinned again.
“But enough conversation!” he said happily. “Do you wish for your death to be quick or will you make the pretense of fighting me?” He hefted his sword as if it were a light twig in his hand and stepped forward to begin a swing. My grip tightened on my own weapon, and my legs bunched in readiness for his attack.
”I do not think he will receive either,” boomed a voice from behind us. Nolarion whirled around with an exclamation in time to see four huge figures emerge from niches in the cave wall, two from our right and two from the left. Swords gleamed in the hands of three of them, and a spear was balanced by Krelonan the wrestler.
”Bias asked us after the meeting last night to conceal ourselves this morning in these statue niches,” announced Kreton, gesturing at himself and his three Herculean sons, who had strode up next to him to form an impassable barrier across the mouth of the cave. “He told me he had the murderer narrowed down to one of several people, and that he had made his announcement of plans in order to set a trap for the swine. We have been waiting here for hours in the hopes of snaring our quarry, and by Artemis the huntress, it appears that we have succeeded! We heard everything you said, magistrate.”
Nolarion swung his leonine head back and forth between the four big men, silently sizing them up.
”This is not your quarrel nor your business,” the magistrate protested. “You are a worldly man, Kreton. Surely you can see that my actions were necessary. Your presence is not needed here.” The giant aristocrat shook his head grimly.
”You are a guestslayer and have disgraced our city,” he snarled. “You must stand before the families of Tyrestes and Habiliates at the Podium of Justice and confess your crimes.” Nolarion stared at the four huge men.
”Yes, I suppose I must,” he mused after a few moments. “But first, let me conclude my business here!”
Nolarion threw a gracious smile at Kreton, whirled suddenly, and lunged at me with his short sword! I flung myself desperately backwards, simultaneously throwing my own sword up to deflect his blow. His blade clanged off the arm of the demi-god Cycnus, knocking out a sizable chunk of stone bicep, and he pulled it back to try for another blow. I was still off balance and twisted to my left to try and escape. His sword began its descent, as if in slow motion, and I knew I could not block it in time.
Then he simply stopped. His whole body jerked violently as if some puppeteer were tugging on his limb strings, and he stared dumbfounded down at his chest. Protruding from the front of his torso and parting his beard neatly in the middle was the point of a spear! He glared at it in wonder as the front of his chiton quickly turned bright red, touched it tentatively with a gnarled finger, dropped his weapon from his other hand, and very slowly turned to face Kreton again. The haft of the spear, jutting our of his back, swung around with him like some strange new appendage.
”I do not think...” he started to say, but was cut off when a gush of bright blood erupted from his mouth and ran down his chin. He coughed once, his legs giving way beneath him, and sagged to the cave floor. The point of the spear caught in the ground as he fell, and he lay there, supported by it in a triangular shape. The statue of Cycnus looked down at him angrily, nettled no doubt by the missing hunk of his arm. All I could do was stare down as well, breathing in rasping whoops, my sword hanging uselessly by my side. The four big men walked slowly up to the body.
”Why, by the gods, boy, did you have to hit him in the chest?” Kreton asked Krelonan in exasperation. “Now there will be precious little satisfaction for the families of Tyrestes or Habiliates!”
”I am sorry, Father, “ replied the embarrassed wrestler. “You know I am not very accurate with the javelin. That is why I did not compete in that event.”
Edwards—Murder At The Panionic Games