The Queen of Sparta (30 page)

CHAPTER 38

THE GHOST OF CLEONICE

Byzantium

Summer, 477
BC

The following day

The ships docked north of Byzantium at first light. Demaratus had insisted on taking Sherzada with his small naval squadron, carefully avoiding the path of the much larger Athenian fleet to the south. Sherzada could not help reflecting on Elpinice’s parting words that he must find a traitor to save Pausanias. Was his meeting Demaratus a sign or a simple coincidence?

They had to go a little further up along the Bosphorus Straits to secure safe landing. From there, Sherzada and Demaratus rode on horseback to the gates of Byzantium.

They would not have been allowed to enter the city, had an old Spartan soldier on guard duty not recognized Demaratus and let them in. As they entered the town, they saw feverish activity all around. Soldiers, mercenaries and militiamen were rushing to the battlements. Demaratus and Sherzada were taken to a tower above the southern walls. As they climbed, the reason for the tumult became clear – hundreds of Athenians were landing on the coast below. At the top of the tower, Sherzada found Pausanias looking down from the ramparts. He was wearing his long crimson Spartan cloak, but underneath he wore baggy trousers and a loose long-sleeved shirt of the Persian type. And Sherzada was still in his Roman toga.

Pausanias’ handsome face reflected a gloomy weariness. He bowed slightly to Demaratus and welcomed Sherzada with a warm embrace. “Two years ago, you and I met at Plataea. The man who brought you to me leads these Athenians against me today,” he said, pointing down to the Athenian marines as they jumped off their ships. “I would not have won Plataea without Aristeides’ support. You and I who were enemies then are here together as friends,” he said, “and the one who was my friend is now my enemy.

“Now, please excuse me,” he said. “I must see to our defences. You are of course welcome to stay but I suggest you leave soon. No point dying needlessly here. This is not your fight.”

Later that evening, against Pausanias’ advice, the two guests dined with Pausanias and his officers. The food was as distinctly Persian as Pausanias’ dress. Pausanias was in a better mood then. He described the Persians’ dress as more practical than the Greek, and their food, delicious. There was no harm in adopting the more attractive aspects of a culture. Sherzada could not have agreed more. But soon the conversation between Pausanias and his men turned to military matters. Sherzada and Demaratus listened silently as they tried to assess the balance of forces. Apparently, Pausanias had only a few dozen Spartans who had volunteered to serve under him after he resigned his regency, a hundred or so Bosporan mercenaries – paid for with Persian gold – and a town militia a few hundred strong; in all, six hundred men. Not enough to hold off Aristeides’ three thousand Athenians, Sherzada thought. As they ate, they learned a force of two thousand Thracian warriors was also on its way to support the Athenians. Cimon’s maternal links were at work. The odds were stacking up against Pausanias. But he remained calm.

After dinner, Demaratus excused himself. War did not excite him the way it used to. He was, after all, a Spartan no longer. He was also a man who knew only too well the meaning of misfortune. Sherzada saw him off and then walked on to the palace terrace above Byzantium’s fortifications, and gazed at the Athenian campfires below the city walls.

Pausianus appeared and sat down beside Sherzada, saying, “I have often tried to make sense of all of this, but I cannot. Regrets, I certainly have, but I cannot blame myself for everything. If only the Athenians had left me alone.”

Sherzada reminded him that it was he who had cut off the Athenians’ grain supplies.

“A trifle compared to what they did to me!” he said, a little hysterically. “You must have heard the stories. I was arrogant. I mistreated people. I alienated our allies. I took a woman against her will and then killed her. I conspired with the Persians to fight against the Greeks. Athenian propaganda, all of it. They made me into nothing less than a monster.”

“Tell me the truth,” Sherzada suggested as gently as possible, watching the water below and realizing how little time they had. “Tell me the whole story.”

Pausanias sighed. “When we arrived here, the Persians were withdrawing from the European side. Except for Eion and Doriscus, they had abandoned all of Thrace; Byzantium, too. The war shifted to the Aegean Sea. The Athenians began to focus on liberating only those Aegean islands and Ionian cities that tended to favour their interests. Even then, I helped the Athenians as far as I could, but soon I began to see where this war was headed. With the Persians not going on the offensive and the Athenians bent on building an empire of their own in the Aegean under the guise of liberation and democracy, it was not a war of independence anymore.

“And ever since Plataea I had been smitten by Cleonice. I longed to see her again. Leading the Greek forces in the Aegean gave me that opportunity. While the Athenians were busy island-hopping, I brought a force here and seized Byzantium. Once in control of the city, I went straight to the house of Cleonice’s parents with my soldiers. I demanded she come with me immediately. She refused. When I insisted, she picked up a dagger and pointed it at her own chest, saying that she had hated being a concubine of a Persian general and would not want to repeat the same experience with a Greek one. She ordered me to leave her house or she would plunge the dagger in her heart. I did as she said.

“But several weeks later she came to me and told me that she would agree to live with me but only as my wife, not as my slave-girl or my concubine. So I married her. We were very happy together. She gave me two sons – twins. The elder I named Pleistonax, for no other reason than taking the first part of Pleistarchus’ name and combining with the last part of Euro’s. Then I named the younger Cleomenes after Gorgo’s father, my favourite uncle.

“When I took control of Byzantium, this town attracted many Greek soldiers, sailors and traders from Athens and other cities allied to us. But these people treated the locals very badly; cheating them, exploiting them, physically abusing and humiliating them and sometimes even killing them. Any Byzantine who dared to complain was dealt with harshly by these Greeks, many of them Athenians. I could stand this no longer. So I started putting on trial those who mistreated the local population and punished all those who were found guilty. Some were fined, some were imprisoned, others banished, and a few were even executed, but in each case the punishment matched the crime. People from our allied states started complaining about the way I was treating their citizens in Byzantium, forgetting that these very citizens had behaved wrongfully towards the Byzantines. But the Athenians, under Themistocles’ influence, turned the whole episode on its head, accusing me of mistreating people.

“In any case, after the rumours against me reached Sparta, the Gerousia recalled me to answer charges that I was in league with the Persians and that I had abused Greek citizens. In spite of the best efforts of Leotychidas and his lackeys, they could not find an iota of evidence against me. They would have still gone ahead with prosecuting me, had Gorgo not drilled some sense into the Gerousia. I resigned my regency and left Sparta, returned here mainly because of Cleonice. I couldn’t bear to live without her.

“When I returned, the Athenians were being led by Cimon and he wanted to control Byzantium. So he sent assassins against me. One day, I got credible information that an assassin was in town. That night, I doubled my guards around my bedchamber. Cleonice was spending a few days with her parents and I did not expect her to return that night. But she decided to come back that very night, telling her parents that she was missing me. The guards let her through, and when she entered the bedchamber she accidentally overturned a lantern causing a small fire. She tried to wake me to warn me about the fire. But when I awoke, I saw the room on fire and a dark figure leaning over me. Expecting the worst, I reached for my sword and stabbed the figure. As she fell on me, I realized it was Cleonice. I had killed the woman I loved.”

Sherzada felt a stab of pain, remembering the girl who had pleaded with Pausanias to save his life. Had she not predicted that one day Sherzada and Pausanias would become friends too?

It was some time before Pausanias could go on. It was hard to believe his companion was a man still in his twenties, thought Sherzada. He remembered his promise to Gorgo, and wondered how he would be able to save them both.

“It was after that I blocked off the Hellespont,” Pausanias continued. “I refused to let through any ship carrying grain to Athens. I had to teach them a lesson. I wanted them to pay for what they made me do.

“But even here the Athenian lies haven’t stopped. They say that the ghost of Cleonice is haunting me, driving me mad. I suppose the guilt of what I did to her is, but Byzantium represents everything Cleonice loved, and I will defend it with my life. These Athenians will pay dearly for their crimes.”

The next morning, Sherzada went up the tower again and saw Demaratus was already there, studying the Athenians. The city below was in a state of fear. Civilians were cowering in their homes and the defending troops were nervously hanging on to their weapons, waiting for the enemy to make his first move. But he didn’t.

“Strange,” said Demaratus. “Aristeides doesn’t seem in a hurry to attack us. He hasn’t brought out his siege engines or deployed his battlelines. I wonder what he is up to?”

“If Aristeides really wanted to attack us he would have done so by now,” mused Sherzada.

As they came down the tower, they found Pausanias on the ramparts encouraging his men. “By Apollo,” he fumed, “if Aristeides does not launch an assault by dusk, I will attack him where he stands and drive him and his Athenians into the sea.”

“Remember,” said Sherzada carefully, as he walked up to him. “Aristeides is not like the other Athenians. He still considers you his friend.”

“If the man is my friend, he should take himself, his army and his ships out of here. Otherwise, let him attack me, and I will show him the folly of crossing a Spartan prince. I would rather burn this city down than hand it to Aristeides.”

Sherzada grabbed Pausanias by his collar. “This is no heroic last stand! This is no Thermopylae. Is this not the city Cleonice loved? Do you want her parents to perish here; your sons too? I too have fought against adverse odds, but only when I had good troops behind me. How many Spartans do you have? Sixty? And your Bosporan mercenaries are good fighters, but they are more interested in Artabaz’s gold than in defending Byzantium. And as for your citizens’ militia, they are no match for the Athenians. So if it comes to a fight, Pausanias, you can rely only on your sixty Spartans. Against these you face three thousand battle-hardened Athenians and two thousand blood-thristy Thracians.”

Pausanias gave an ugly laugh. “Don’t tell me you are in the pay of Aristeides? Returning a favour for saving your life at Plataea?”

Sherzada turned away in anger. Only Gorgo’s mesmerizing face before him gave him the patience to try again. “Have you forgotten Gorgo? Have you forgotten Sparta? The Athenians are going to take this city one way or the other. If Cleonice means so much to you, and if you have the slightest regard for the affection Gorgo holds you in, you will take this opportunity Aristeides is giving you … and escape from here, return to Sparta, and regain your position as Regent.”

“I have no future there,” said Pausanias. “Archidamus and his cronies have made sure of that.”

“Gorgo needs you. Don’t tell me you have turned your back on Sparta and on her.”

“I shall gladly give up my life for Sparta. But it is Sparta that has forsaken me. Gorgo is under pressure and now Euryanax is a marked man.”

“Euryanax? What do you mean?” asked Sherzada.

Pausanias looked at Demaratus and Demaratus explained how Euryanax had disobeyed Leotychidas’ order not to arm the Helots while fighting in Thessaly, and how Leotychidas’ arrest for accepting bribes from Aleuas of Thessaly had not prevented Euryanax’s incarceration as soon as he returned to Sparta.