GATHERING THE THREADS
Nikander had spoken of the Medes but in a voice so low that none but
Theria heard.
Theria, Nikander knew, would not give way to fear. However, she did give
way to curiosity. She questioned Medon, but Medon would tell her nothing.
“Your father has forbidden us, Missy,” was his word. She plied Olen with
questions, but Olen backed away from them with a skill which slaves
acquire. As for Baltè, she could only say:
“Oh, darling, it is tribes and tribes of men, all the men in the world
coming against our Greece. And the king at their head is a god. Where he
will he knocks a mountain over, like _that_, an’ when he will he makes
the sea dry land for his tribes to walk over. He is goin’ to burn every
city of Greece.”
Theria, what with her love of her land and her love of mere knowing, felt
actually ill from all this bafflement.
Late in the afternoon she caught Lycophron walking across the aula.
“Lycophron, stay with me! Talk with me only a little while. I’ll have
Olen bring wine and the fresh cakes.”
“Now, Sis, what are you up to?” he asked. Her eyes were wide and starry.
At such times they had the look of being new opened like a child’s.
“And Circe put wine before the Mariners,” he quoted, laughing. She
finished the lines.
“You rogue,” he said. “I believe you know the whole of Homer by heart.
Very improper for a girl.”
“No, I don’t; I only know most of the Odyssey. But don’t talk about that,
please. Oh, please tell me of the war.” She caught his arm pleadingly.
“Nobody but you will ever tell me anything. I am not afraid about the
war.”
“But you’d better be,” he said shortly.
“Old Baltè says the great king is a god who makes the land a sea and the
sea dry land.”
“Well, do you know, that is truth—almost. Xerxes has dug a canal across
the peninsula of Athos, behind the stormy mountain, to give safer passage
to his ships, and he has built an enormous bridge across the Hellespont
for his tribes to walk over. They were nine days and nights passing over
the thing, a constant stream. It seems foolish for him to transport so
many men to Greece. He could conquer our little states with a fifth of
that number.”
“Do you mean he brings too many?” queried Theria keenly.
“Gods, no! The great king knows what he is about. He’s an enemy to be
reckoned with! I don’t say we should throw up our hands and _Medise_ all
at once. But surely we should treat with him before we try to fight him.
Why should we go out with a handful of men and ships to be butchered?
Schutt!” he snapped his fingers scornfully. “That Tempè business! Do you
know about Tempè?”
“No,” breathlessly.
“Well, they started out—the Athenians and the Spartans together and——
Now, Sis, you may as well know that the Persians are coming really
against Athens and Sparta. Them only. None of the rest of us are in this
fight at all. And I say there’s no need of our throwing ourselves into it
like geese. Well, they start out, these Athenians and Spartans, and go
to the Vale of Tempè where they say there is a pass where they can keep
the Persians from coming through. And when they get there they find _two_
passes into Greece instead of _one_ pass to defend. So back they come
like whipped curs. I can hear the Persian king roar with laughter when
he hears of it. This was last week. The news of their fizzle is all over
Hellas. It’s taken the heart out of everyone. You’ve seen a hare sitting
with ears up ready to run. That’s the way we are!”
“Oh,” breathed Theria. She was leaning forward, drinking the news. “That
is what ails Father. That Tempè failure. Not that he is scared,” she
corrected herself. “But so troubled, so deeply troubled.”
“Yes, he’s troubled. The difficulty with Father is, he is trying to butt
into a stone wall. I suppose he’ll see after a while, the old dear!”
“Don’t call him that, Lycophron. Father isn’t old. What do you mean by
butting a wall?”
Lycophron stretched out his hands, yawning: “Oh, Sis, you want to know
the history of the Oracle since the time of Gaia,” he said. Then suddenly
a shrewd, purposeful look came into his eyes.
“Look here, puss. If I tell you about it will you try to help Father?
Father’s going against the Oracle. The Pythia says one thing but Father
thinks another.”
Now Theria’s faith in her father was second only to her faith in her god.
“He wouldn’t do that,” she exclaimed. “How can you say that of Father?
Father is——”
“Now, now; don’t get so hot all of a sudden! Wait till you hear: Athens
has sent to Delphi asking—‘Shall we fight the Persian and if so how
will we come out?’ The Pythia gave them a discouraging answer. Then the
Spartans came. Discouraging answer again. Something about ‘a king shall
die to save you.’ But not clear. Now Father wants them to keep on asking
again and again until better answers come. That’s pretty near sacrilege!”
He paused a moment.
“All the answers are the same, Sis. The answer to the Cretans: I heard
that myself, heard the priestess give it. Confused, of course, but after
the priests deliberated over it, clear as a whistle. ‘Keep out of the
fight,’ it said. ‘Do you want to be whipped as the Phokians whipped you?’
“Now Father is horrified at that. He says the Oracle meant nothing of the
kind. He had a terrific argument against all of them in the Council. He’s
making enemies right and left. What worries me is that man Kobon. The
Kobon family have always hated us and Kobon—well, he’d like to destroy
Father. Now here is his chance. Sooner or later he’ll do it unless Father
stops what he is doing.”
Theria was speechless with horror. Lycophron leaned toward her earnestly.
“Look here, Sis, why don’t _you_ talk with Father? You. I can’t talk to
him any more. He won’t listen to me. Try to tell him what I’ve told you.
Of course he’ll be angry. He’ll say you know nothing about it. But it may
count if you tell him you’ve been warned. He’s bitter discouraged now. It
may count. Will you do it?”
“Yes, oh, yes!” she said.
Lycophron kissed her. He was really an affectionate fellow and considered
his sister a charming child. Then he hurried out of the house.
Her father was in danger! Her father might be destroyed! This fact
overtopped all others in Theria’s loving mind. Even the impending war was
dim in this presence. And at nightfall Theria learned that her father had
gone away from Delphi. He had gone on some mysterious business. Lycophron
had seen him depart but even he did not know Nikander’s destination.
For the next two weeks Theria was well-nigh impossible to live with. Her
temper took fire at everything.
“I cannot sit and spin,” she declared. “Ah, gods; but I cannot!”
She threw down her distaff, defying her mother’s authority. In her room
she paced up and down, maddening for activity. “If only Father were
here,” she would repeat. “If only here, so that I might plead with him to
keep out of danger.”
But if Nikander should come, would she dare to question him and his
state policies? Never in her life had she doubted her father’s wisdom.
Theria had in some way gleaned a knowledge of Nikander’s far-reaching
powers—Nikander who seldom thought in terms of the individual but nearly
always in terms of the state. But now his statecraft was bringing him
into personal danger. That very danger made him seem to her in the wrong.
Yet to question him face to face, that seemed to Theria the height of
impiety. What could she, an ignorant girl, say to so wise a statesman?
Yet persuade him she must. He was in danger—in danger!
From this perturbation Theria found her old solitary place in the back
storeroom an only refuge. Here she could at least breathe the air, could
see the turbulent stream, could watch the gradual increase of nooning
light or its golden decline.