THE THUNDERBOLT FALLS
Leonidas and Eresthenes stood in the portico of the temple awaiting the
return of Clearchus.
"All is well!" the young man cried, throwing his arms around Leonidas
in the excess of his joy.
"Shall we find her?" the Spartan asked anxiously.
"Yes; the God has promised it," Clearchus replied.
"Where is she?" Leonidas asked quickly.
Clearchus hesitated and his face fell. The oracle had not told him
where she was.
"What did the God mean when he spoke of the Whirlwind's track?" he
asked, turning to the priests.
"We know no more than thou," Agias replied. "The answer given to thee
is more definite than any we have had in these later times. That is a
good omen. Be content and doubtless the God will choose his own way to
make all clear to thee."
Clearchus was troubled, but he thanked the priests and arranged for the
bestowal of an offering of ten talents of gold. He was about to take
his leave when a man with mud-stained garments came running up the
steep incline to the temple. He was one of the agents or messengers
that the priests maintained in every large city of Greece to keep them
informed of events. The knowledge which they brought, added to that
which came with visitors to the oracle from all parts of the world,
made Delphi the centre of intelligence and enabled the servants of the
God, if need there was, to supplement his answers from their own
understanding.
The man halted breathless before the white-clad group that stood in the
sunlight between the columns awaiting him.
"It is Cimon," Agias said. "What news dost thou bring--speak!"
"Alexander is before the walls of Thebes with his army!" the messenger
panted.
"Whence came he?" Agias demanded.
"Out of the mountains of Thessaly--like a whirlwind!" Cimon replied.
"Before men had time to learn of his approach, he was there."
"Like a whirlwind, you say?" Agias repeated, glancing at Clearchus.
"Like a whirlwind, indeed," the messenger replied, "and panic holds the
city!"
"Thy question is answered, my son," said Agias, quietly.
Clearchus was amazed. He had believed that the words of the Pythia
were to be taken in their literal sense, and he had resolved to consult
Aristotle in the matter on his return to Athens. But when Agias called
his attention to the reply of the messenger, who could have had no
knowledge of the prophecy, he could not doubt that a metaphor had been
intended. The plans of the young Macedonian monarch at once acquired a
new and intense interest in his mind and he listened eagerly to Cimon's
story.
"The Thebans are divided," said the messenger. "They know not whether
to surrender their city and earn their pardon, or to give defiance to
the young king. The last they had heard of him was that he had been
slain in battle at Pelium by the blow of a club. You know already that
the citizens rose when Ph[oe]nix and Prothytes came back from Athens
and that they besieged the Macedonian garrison in the Cadmea. Athens
sent money and promised an army. The B[oe]otarchs ordered the walls to
be made strong and a barricade to be built inside so that even if the
walls should fall, they would still be able to defend themselves.
Fugitives from Onchestris brought the first news that Alexander and his
army were there. Even then the city would not believe it was the
Hegemon himself, but maintained that it must be Antipater or the
Lyncestian namesake of the king. For how, they asked, could the dead
come to life?"
"Nothing is beyond the power of the Gods," Agias said sententiously.
"We expected a swift attack," Cimon continued, "but it was not until
the next day that the army came within sight of the city and encamped
north of the walls. The Thebans sent their cavalry and light troops to
meet them. This was only a skirmish, but the soldiers brought word
that Alexander, indeed, was there. Some of them who knew him had seen
him directing the Macedonian troops.
"We found this to be true when the Macedonians moved their camp around
to the main gate. The soldiers of the garrison in the Cadmea
recognized their king and cried out to us that Alexander had come to
avenge them. Still he did not attack, but sent a herald to say that he
would forgive all that had been done if the city would yield itself and
send him Ph[oe]nix and Prothytes to be punished."
"And what was the answer?" Agias asked.
"There were many who favored accepting the terms," Cimon replied,
"especially since aid from Athens had been cut off; but the exiles who
had returned to raise the revolt declared that the king was afraid.
Should he have the boldness to attack the walls, they promised that he
would be beaten and that Thebes would send a garrison to Pella instead
of having one in the Cadmea."
"They are desperate men," the old priest said.
"But they won the people," Cimon replied, "and it was resolved to
fight. So matters stood when I slipped out of the northern gate last
night to bring you word."
"You have done well, Cimon," Agias said. "Dost thou think the city
will escape?"
"That I cannot tell," the messenger answered. "It has corn enough for
a siege; but Alexander's army contains thirty thousand footmen and a
troop of horse, besides ballistæ and battering-rams which they were
setting up when I left."
"The walls are strong," Agias said, reflecting. "Well, go to thy rest.
Thou hast need of it."
Clearchus and his friends had enough to talk about as they walked down
from the temple.
"One thing is certain," said the young Athenian. "We must go at once
to Thebes."
"That we must do if only to see the fighting," Leonidas replied.
"What if the Dragon's Teeth should win?" Eresthenes suggested.
"They cannot," Leonidas said. "The man who could make the march that
Alexander made is a general as well as a king. There is no Epaminondas
in Thebes now."
"What will become of Chares' mother and his family if the city falls?"
Clearchus exclaimed, stopping short.
"Have I not heard him say that his father formed a guest-friendship
with Philip when the Macedonian was left in Thebes as a hostage?"
Leonidas replied.
"Yes," Clearchus admitted, "but that may be forgotten by his son if all
they say concerning Philip's death be true."
"Then we must remind him," Leonidas said, "and that is another reason
why we must go to Thebes."
Eresthenes gave the young men a cordial good-speed when they left him
in the morning to set out for the beleaguered city. They descended
from the mountains and entered the fertile plains of B[oe]otia, through
which they rode all day without finding a sign of war. The farmers
went about their work and the shepherds were pasturing their flocks as
peacefully as though there were no such things as armies and slaughter.
More than once they stopped to ask news of the siege, but the people of
the plain could tell them nothing. Many of them had not heard that
Alexander was before the city; others had indeed heard the rumor, but
convinced that they themselves were safe, they took no interest in it.
Evening was drawing on and they had approached to within a few miles of
the city when they met a rider whose horse was dripping with sweat.
"Ho, there; what news of Thebes?" Leonidas shouted as he passed.
The man looked at them, but made no answer. He bent low on the neck of
his horse and his cloak flew out behind him like the wings of a huge
bird.
"There has been a battle," Leonidas said. "Was he Theban or
Macedonian?"
Burning with impatience, they urged their horses to the crest of a low
hill, where they came suddenly upon half a dozen cavalrymen, who had
halted in a small grove to bind up a wound which one of their number
had received in the shoulder.
"What has happened?" Leonidas asked, drawing rein beside them.
"Know you not that the city has fallen?" one of the soldiers replied.
"The accursed Macedonians forced us in through the gates and came in
with us. Not a soul is left alive in Thebes, and my wife and children
were there!"
"And that is where you should be," the Spartan replied contemptuously.
The poor fellow burst into tears at this reproach as he thought of the
fate of his little family. Clearchus, touched by his grief, drew out
his purse and gave it to him.
"If they are still living, this may aid you to ransom them," he said.
As the two friends proceeded they now began to meet other bands of
fugitives straggling along the road. Most of them fled silently, often
looking back over their shoulders as if in dread of pursuit.
"Cowards!" said Leonidas, scornfully.
"Life is sweet to all of us," Clearchus remonstrated, thinking of
Artemisia.
"To such as these it should be bitter!" the Spartan replied.
They were rounding a turn in the road as he spoke, and before the words
were well out of his mouth they found themselves entangled in a rabble
of horsemen, who were retreating before a fierce attack.
"In here, quickly!" Leonidas cried, urging his horse back among the
trees beside the road.
They had barely time to gain this shelter before the rush of plunging
horses and shouting men went past them. The Thebans were evidently
making a desperate attempt to rally, and just beyond the spot where the
two were concealed they halted, wheeled, and stood at bay.
But before they had accomplished this man[oe]uvre the foremost of the
pursuers, headed by a young man riding a powerful chestnut horse, swept
into sight. The leader, in his excitement, had distanced his troop.
Clearchus and Leonidas, who, from their position in the elbow of the
road, were able to see in both directions, realized that he was
galloping straight into an ambush. Leonidas started forward to warn
him, but it was too late. The Thebans had regained their order, and
with a wild shout they charged back around the curve.
Either the unexpectedness of the onset caused the chestnut to swerve,
or his rider tried to pull him up too suddenly, for he stumbled and
went to his knees. The young man was pitched headforemost into the
underbrush and fell almost at the feet of Leonidas.
Some of the Theban troopers saw the accident and rushed upon him with
cries of triumph. They were confronted by Leonidas and Clearchus, who
stood over the prostrate figure with drawn swords. Surprise caused the
Thebans to hesitate, and this saved the lives of all three; for the
Macedonian riders, thundering down upon the Thebans at full speed,
struck them and tore them to pieces. Horse and man went down before
that fierce charge, which left nothing behind excepting the dead and a
handful of wounded, whose cries for mercy were cut short by a
sword-thrust. The survivors fled without looking behind them.
"Where is Ptolemy?" shouted one of the Macedonians, a bearded man who
seemed to be second in command. "Who has seen the captain?"
"He rode in advance," one of the troopers replied.
"If we do not bring him back, we shall have to answer for it to the
king, and you know what that means," the first man said.
"He is here!" Clearchus called from the thicket.
The bearded lieutenant and several others hastily dismounted and
carried their captain out into the road. He was still unconscious.
"Who are you?" the lieutenant demanded gruffly, looking at the two
young men with suspicion.
"I am Clearchus of Athens, and this is Leonidas of Sparta," Clearchus
replied.
"Of Athens!" the man said sneeringly. "Go back to your city and tell
the cowards who live there that we are coming!"
"As you came once before--with Xerxes!" the young Athenian answered
quickly.
The lieutenant's face grew livid and he whipped out his sword.
"Cut their throats! Kill them!" the troopers cried angrily, pressing
closer.
Like a flash, Leonidas bestrode the form of the captain, sword in hand.
"I am of Sparta!" he cried boastfully. "My country never saw the face
of Philip, nor shall it look upon that of his son, who calls himself
the Hegemon of all Hellas. Put away your swords, or here is one whose
funeral you will celebrate to-morrow!"
He placed the point of his blade at the captain's throat as he spoke.
The men of Macedon dared not move.
"Listen to reason!" Clearchus said hastily. "We are without armor, as
you see. We saved the life of your captain, and we are on our way to
Thebes to see Alexander on matters of importance. Take us with you and
let your king deal with us. This is no time nor place for brawling."
"You are right," the lieutenant said sullenly. "Let it be as you say."
He sheathed his sword, and the others followed his example, though with
an ill grace. The captain had begun to recover his senses. His skull
must have been tough to have resisted the shock of his fall without
cracking.
"Why are you letting me lie here?" he demanded. "Where is the enemy?"
"Scattered and gone, excepting these that you see," the lieutenant
replied, pointing to the bodies.
"Then get me on a horse and back to camp," the captain ordered.
As they rode the lieutenant explained the presence of Clearchus and
Leonidas. The captain frankly gave them thanks when he learned that
they had protected him while he lay helpless.
"I am Ptolemy," he said, "and since you desire to see Alexander, I will
take you to him. I owe you much and the day may come when I shall be
able to repay you."