The Oath

10

We went on until the sun set and we were completely certain that no one had been following us except for our young prince walking in the woods. Our path had led us high up the mountainside and the night air was chilly. We came across a fire that some shepherd must have abandoned. My father pulled on the reins and stopped the horses. The embers of the fire were still glowing under the ashes, so it was easy to rekindle the flames with some dry leaves and twigs. I called out to Eumelus to tell him that it was safe to leave the forest. No answer.

‘Where are you?’ I called then turned to my father: ‘Where could he have gone? I told him to follow us, without leaving the forest. He can’t have got lost.’

My father dropped his head and sighed. ‘He’s a strange child,’ he said. ‘Maybe he changed his mind. I thought he trusted us. Maybe he was frightened by what happened.’

‘So am I, atta, I’m more than just afraid of that story you came up with! Tell me the truth: what does the Sanctuary of the Wolf King in Arcadia have to do with how grandfather got his name?’

‘Nothing, those are just stories that people have made up because your grandfather has such a nasty disposition and he has a name. . well, he has a name unlike any other. But perhaps I shouldn’t have told Eurystheus’ warriors that story.’

‘Of course you should have: it made them turn back.’

‘Quiet!’ said my father, laying his hand on his sword. I heard the sound of twigs breaking and Eumelus appeared. His left hand held a rabbit he had captured and killed somehow.

‘Do you have a knife?’ he asked.

I handed him mine. He skinned the rabbit and removed the entrails, separating the heart, liver, spleen and kidneys from the bowels, then skewered it with the knife and set it over the embers to roast. We watched in amazement.

‘Where did you learn that?’ I asked him.

‘Where I live, they leave you in the forest when you’re little and you have to learn to survive. Some don’t make it back. Most learn.’

When we had satiated our hunger and wrapped ourselves in our woollen cloaks, the urge to talk came upon us. The sky was full of big, luminous stars, and light puffs of wind rustled the oak leaves. I heard the screeching song of an owl. Athena! She was close, watching over me. I felt her presence in the forest, her green and gold eyes seeking me out.

‘Young prince,’ began my father, ‘are you certain that you saw what you told us? Might you not have dreamt it? Sometimes dreams seem truer than reality.’

‘What about the blood? Have you forgotten that I brought you their blood?’ said the boy.

‘That’s true. The blood,’ admitted my father.

‘But why did they do it? Why didn’t they kill him as well?’ I asked.

‘Eurystheus is too shrewd to have made such a mistake,’ my father replied. ‘The townspeople would surely have accused him of the misdeed. They would have rebelled against him and brought him down. Hercules has always been close to the people’s hearts; everyone adored him and would certainly have wanted him to take his cousin’s place as king of Mycenae and Tiryns. Eurystheus did this to demolish Hercules’ reputation as a hero whose generosity knew no limits. He had to turn the hero into a bloodthirsty monster who would slaughter his own family. And spread the news everywhere, not only among the people but among the kings.’

My father turned back to the boy. ‘And afterwards? The morning after? What happened then?’

A spirit passed in the night, the oak trees shivered. Eumelus took a deep breath and began speaking and both my father and I were astonished. He seemed like someone else: the little boy who had said so few words up to then suddenly began to describe what he had experienced in great detail, like a raging river breaking its banks, like a singer inspired by the gods. I think it was Athena who freed the words that now tumbled from the circle of his teeth. Even the timbre of his voice sounded different.

‘Hercules awoke with his sword in hand, surrounded by the slain bodies of his wife and children. He let out a roar of anguish and horror that I will never forget. The entire palace trembled, the horses broke out of their pens, the crows fled the towers, cawing. I crept down the corridor just in time to see the king’s guards taking the sword from Hercules before he could turn it on himself. Eurystheus then appeared out of nowhere and cried loudly: “How could you? How could you have committed such a heinous crime?”

‘Hercules looked as if he’d lost his mind: he let himself be bound in chains and dragged underground to a prison chamber. As they were hauling him off, the king shouted after him: “What you have done is too terrible to be judged by any man. Only a god can judge you and inflict the punishment you deserve.”

‘There was great despair in the palace. People wept because they could not believe what they had heard. Or because they did believe it, and Hercules was the one man on all the earth they had thought was good and just. I badly wanted to find a way to get into the prison and tell him the truth. I was certain that he would snap his chains and break down the door, and then after chasing Eurystheus through every room of the palace he would crush him like a cockroach. But no one could get close to him.

‘Days and nights passed in this way. From the window of my room I saw them carrying the corpses of those innocents out in darkness and tossing them into a nameless hole they’d dug in an unmarked spot in the valley. I saw the monster himself standing on the tower rising over the chasm and watching against a red sky.

‘I learned to hide, to escape his sight, to live as if I didn’t exist. If anyone found out that I had seen everything, my life would be worthless. I stopped speaking, sometimes I was even afraid to think, afraid that Eurystheus could read my mind.

‘In the end, the verdict that everyone has become familiar with was pronounced. Eurystheus solemnly declared that the Oracle had been consulted and had condemned Hercules to atone for his crime by liberating the world of all the monsters infesting it: wild beasts, evil giants, savage predators that feed on human flesh. “If you do so, and you survive, you will perhaps have expiated your guilt. If you die, as you deserve to, no one will weep for you: you will have paid your debt,” said the king his cousin.

‘This was certainly what Eurystheus had hoped for; that his rival would be killed off in one of those impossible labours, his memory and his honour stained for all time. He had Hercules released from his chains.

‘Since that day, Hercules has wandered through the spheres of nightmare, taking on these seemingly impossible tasks. He has given up all his weapons, all his clothing and ornaments, and lives like a wild man. He dons nothing but the pelt of a lion that he killed with his bare hands near Nemea, he brandishes an uprooted tree trunk as his club and he feeds on whatever he finds.’

My father laid a hand on Eumelus’ shoulder. ‘You acted bravely and wisely, and the most important thing is that you lived to pass on the truth. Eurystheus had us followed because he is tormented by doubts about how much you know, and he’d have no scruples about killing you for that. Now that you’re free, he’ll have no peace until he does away with you; we’ll have to be extremely careful. Remember: on the day that you meet Hercules, it will be your duty to tell him everything you saw.’

‘But how will I ever be able to meet him? No one knows where he is.’

‘You will surely see him again, when the time comes. Your testimony will lift an unbearable weight from his heart. Try to rest now. Tomorrow a long journey awaits us.’

They lay down near the fire. I, instead, ventured into the forest, hoping I would meet my goddess. The owl’s song had inspired me, as if Athena herself were calling to me, just like the first night I’d slept in my grandfather’s house in Acarnania. I walked for a short while but it felt as though I had travelled a long distance when, in the moonlight, I saw a nest of leaves at the foot of an enormous ash tree. I felt that she was close, so close that I was a little afraid. Then I was overcome by a sense of deep fatigue and I lay down on the bed of leaves.

Behind closed eyes, I saw seven armies laying siege to the walls of a city with seven gates. Each army was led by a great warrior. Seven more warriors were on the inside, trying to drive them back. At the fourth gate I saw the goddess, armed, protecting the city. None of the attackers could hope to defeat her. She was dreadful to behold: a crested helmet on her head, a gorgon on her shield and the aegis on her breast.

My vision was fragmented into a thousand shards, into a frenzy of blood, of neighing and shrieking, of horses dashing at a gallop against the ramparts and walls of the stronghold. Duels of man against man, king against king. I saw one of the skirmishers climbing the wall and hurling himself at his opponent. They plunged their blades into each other’s bodies. The attacker took a blow to his side but sank his own sword into the neck of his adversary, who crashed to the ground lifeless. The victor raised a cry of triumph but suddenly fell to his knees as he saw his own blood flowing copiously from his side onto the ground. I realized that this man was beloved by the goddess and she, springing from one tower to the next like a sparrowhawk, had come to save him from death. Tydeus was his name. Melanippus his enemy.

Tydeus dragged himself with a final spurt of energy to where Melanippus lay and then he beheaded him with a single stroke of his sword. He smashed the skull on a stone until it split open and then he gulped out his enemy’s brains. Athena was so outraged and disgusted that she took flight, vanishing into the air, leaving Tydeus to the jaws of the Chaera of death.

I jumped as if hit by a thunderbolt at the sight of so much horror and I found myself awake and covered with sweat on my bed of leaves. Silence all around me; the air was undisturbed by any breeze, and yet I felt her close to me. Had she flown here from the city of the seven gates?

‘O goddess of the cerulean eyes that witnessed this atrocious act,’ I prayed, ‘do not reveal yourself to me in your true form, a mortal cannot bear the sight of a god. But guide me, please, assist me and I promise to think only of you. I will have no one but you in my thoughts and in my heart.’

I looked up and saw the owl perched on the highest branch of the enormous ash tree. She was looking at me. I was certain that the goddess had heard me.

I wandered back to the fire without even knowing where I was going, as if I were walking in my sleep. My father was sleeping with his hand on the hilt of his sword, as always. Eumelus was curled up next to him and he finally seemed serene, deep in an untroubled sleep as if he were home next to his parents. I was still completely shaken by the vision I had had in my dream, no less horrifying than what Eumelus had seen in Eurystheus’ house. I was certain that this hadn’t happened by chance: the goddess had carried these visions with her in her flight from the city of the seven gates, brought them to me. Why?

I finally understood the true purpose of my journey: I had to experience the wide world, so different from the peaceful island where I had grown up. I had to learn what lengths a human being will go to in order to achieve power or to maintain it and how hate can drag a man straight to the bottom of the abyss.

I tossed another piece of wood onto the fire, gathered some dry grass and lay down upon it, covering myself with my cloak. In the end I let the peace of that place seep into my head. I realized that the images of horror would not be back, not that night anyway, and that I could abandon myself to sleep near the fire, under the stars, next to my father.

The light of day awoke us and I watched the moon grow pale until it faded into the glow of dawn. Our horses, free of their yoke, were grazing on the woodland underbrush. Sparrows hopped between blades of grass and mountain flowers while flocks of starlings rose from the treetops. They sought a direction at first, then followed their instincts and veered down towards the plain. I didn’t have the courage to tell my father what I had dreamt because, now that the sun had risen, I was confused, and couldn’t have said whether what I remembered was real or not.

We set off, driving along the ridge of the mountain for as long as we could. When the path seemed to come to a dead end in the middle of a wood, we began our descent, searching for a road wide enough for our chariot. Once we had found our way again, we continued at a much faster rate and before evening we saw the walls of Argus appear with the palace on Larissa Hill. Argus.. how often had I heard that city spoken of! The sight of it was no less than I expected. A mighty citadel, with high walls and towers covered with slabs of white stone. These had earned Argus the name of ‘bright city’, famous in all of Achaia. But as we drew closer an ominous sight appeared before our eyes: banners of black wool were hanging from the bastions and towers in a sign of deep mourning.

We didn’t have to wait long to understand why: the body of a warrior in full armour, wrapped in a red cloak, was being carried on the shoulders of six of his comrades up an earth ramp to the top of a tall pyre made of pine trunks. The bier passed quite close to us, and from my elevated position on the chariot, I could see him quite clearly.

‘That’s Tydeus,’ said my father, ‘an Argonaut, the son-in-law of King Adrastus. He returns from an unsuccessful expedition, as you can see.’

‘That’s the man I dreamt of last night,’ I whispered. The man that the goddess, horrified, had abandoned to his death. Why had she come to me with those visions? Why?

‘Look,’ said my father again, ‘see that boy with the blond hair and the black cloak following the bier? Tydeus’ son. He’s just a bit younger than you are, and he could become the king of Argus one day.’

‘What’s his name, father?’ I asked.

‘His name is Diomedes. As young as he is, he’s a formidable fighter, I’ve heard.’

‘I can tell,’ I answered. I watched as he followed his father’s bier up to the pyre. Diomedes walked with a firm step, his back straight, his hand resting on the hilt of his sword, crafted from bright bronze. His colours were black and gold. It was he who went to the base of the enormous heap of wood and set it ablaze. Immediately it was wrapped in a vortex of flame. And it was he who ritually bent Tydeus’ sword and handed it to the priests so they could put it in his tomb when they buried the ashes.

I caught his eye when he passed in front of me and bowed my head as a sign of respect. He barely gave me a glance, but I knew he’d seen me.

We slept under the portico of the market square, on the straw they used for the animals because we had arrived at a very bitter moment for the city and the family of the king. What was more, had we appeared at the palace, everyone would have noticed that the king and prince of Ithaca were travelling with the boy sought by the king of Mycenae. The next morning, as soon as the market filled with people, my father learned what had happened to Tydeus and the six other great Argive warriors who had laid siege to the city of Thebes with seven armies.

And I learned that I had dreamed the truth or maybe I only know that now in this play of mirrors that is my mind every real thing is reflected a thousand times like an echo on the sides of a rocky valley.

We also learned that young Diomedes, along with six friends and comrades, had sworn to dedicate every day of their lives to training for combat, so as to be ready for the moment when they would return to the gates of Thebes to avenge their fallen fathers. I thought that I would never see him again; I didn’t know that the gods had a different destiny in store for us.

We started out again on our journey after buying food and blankets for the night. We journeyed northward for four days, until we saw the great rock of Corinth and then, finally, the sea.

That same evening we met up with our travelling companions, who we found waiting for us in a wood sacred to Poseidon, lord of the Isthmus.

Mentor came first to welcome us. His beard was bristly, his hair dry and tousled by the sea breeze and the sun. ‘We were in such distress,’ he said, ‘we’d heard such terrible things! I thank the gods that brought you here safe and sound, wanax.’ He kissed my father’s hand. ‘Seeing you arrive was like seeing the sun rise.’

‘We’re very happy to see you as well. Appointments of this sort almost never end well. But you acted judiciously and all went for the best. Tell me, then, what news have you heard?’

‘Hercules has been seen in Crete, where he is pursuing an enormous, invincible wild bull that has been devastating the countryside, destroying the crops and then eluding capture. It has evaded the best hunters and killed many of them. One man alone succeeded in wounding him, but that very same night the bull charged into his house, trampling everything he found in his way. All those inside were crushed under his hooves, gored by his horns. . No one but Hercules can find him and take him on, but he will surely meet his own death in doing so.’

‘It is death he seems to be seeking,’ replied my father. ‘But even though he doesn’t know it yet, he has a reason for living. What else?’

‘Seven kings laid siege to Thebes of the seven gates, where Oedipus’ sons Polynices and Eteocles had supposedly agreed to take turns reigning over the kingdom in alternate years. The attackers were defeated. .’

‘I know. We saw Tydeus’ body being placed on the pyre, his sword being plucked from the blaze and bent in two.’

‘The two brothers killed each other, each plunging his sword into the other’s chest. An unspeakable atrocity. The new ruler decreed that their bodies be left unburied, prey to dogs and worms. Their sister Antigone violated the edict by scattering a handful of sand over them, but she was discovered and sentenced to be buried alive! First Mycenae, ruled by a monster who has slain innocent creatures, and now Thebes. . O wanax, my king, why has Achaia been cursed with such horror? What is happening to our land?’

‘I don’t know. Neither mortals nor gods can stop fate from taking its course. But it is in our power, at this moment, to save an innocent child. You’ll board a ship with the boy and sail as far as Iolcus. There, get yourselves a couple of mules and disguise yourselves as merchants until you reach Pherai. You, Mentor, will be responsible for everything. Your escort will carry arms, but keep them hidden; no one is to know they are warriors. Once you are in Pherai, make it known to the king that you have important news for him. If he agrees to receive you, you’ll take the boy to him.’

‘What if he won’t receive me?’

‘You’ll take Eumelus to the palace door. He will know how to make himself recognized and how to bring you into the presence of the sovereigns. Then you will tell them, and them alone, about what happened, and the boy will be your witness. Let them know that you were sent by Laertes, who reigns over Ithaca and other islands. Go now. May the gods lead you down safe paths.’

We watched him leave. We hadn’t spent a single night together eating and drinking wine by the fire and recounting everything that had happened to us in the time since we’d left each other. My father and I left before dawn as well, after stocking up on food and water, following the seashore westward at first and then heading inland, where steep rocky gullies awaited us.

‘Atta,’ I said, ‘wouldn’t it have been better to return to Sparta, where we can rely on the friendship of King Tyndareus?’

‘No,’ he said, ‘because we’re going to Arcadia.’

‘Arcadia? But I thought that. .’

‘That it wasn’t true? That I’d invented it all just to scare off Eurystheus’ guards?’

‘Yes, that is what I thought.’

‘I was telling the truth,’ he answered. ‘We’re going to the Sanctuary of the Wolf King.’