Marathon: Freedom or Death

I shrugged. ‘Money smells the same, whether earned at the point of the spear or in the sweat of a shop,’ I said.

Aristides shook his head. ‘But without virtue. Without glory.’

‘You’re arguing with the wrong man,’ I answered. ‘My master taught me that “War is the king and master of all, some men it makes lords, and others it makes slaves.”’ I laughed, and then my laughter stopped. ‘What’s happening here? Your lads are all armed, and those Alcmaeonids were out for my blood.’

‘Later,’ he said.

We walked around the steep hill, its rock worn smooth from hundreds of men climbing to the top, where criminal trials were held, and then past the slums on the east side and back up a big road, the road to the Temple of Poseidon at Sounion. The moon was up by the time we came to a big gate.

‘My farm,’ Aristides said with pride. ‘I don’t sleep in the city any more. I expect I’ll be exiled soon, if not killed.’ He said it with the flat certainty you hear from a veteran on the night before he takes his death blow.

‘You? Exiled?’ I shook my head. ‘Five years ago you were the golden boy of Athens.’

‘I still am,’ he said. ‘Men think I seek to be tyrant, when in fact I seek only to provide justice — even to your friends the smiths.’

‘There are noble men — men of worth — even in the forges and the potters’ shops,’ I insisted.

‘Of course! Democracy wouldn’t function if there were not. But they keep trying to insist on increased political rights, when any thinking man knows that only a man of property can control a city. We’re the only ones with the training. That smith could no more vote on the Areopagitica than I could dish a helmet.’

Aristides shed his chlamys and chiton, and I noted he was still in top fighting trim. As we talked, slaves attended us. I was stripped, oiled and dressed in a better garment than I’d worn since my last bout of piracy — all while listening to Aristides.

‘Helmets are raised, not dished,’ I said.

‘Just my point,’ he said.

I shook my head. ‘Allow me to disagree with my host,’ I said.

He smiled politely.

‘Perhaps it is that the perfection of any trade — war, sculpture, poetry, iron-smithing, even tanning or shoe- making — provides a man with the tools of mind to allow a mature man to take an active part in politics,’ I said.

He rubbed his chin. ‘Well put. And not an argument I’d heard put in exactly that way before. But you are not proposing that all men are equal?’

I sneered. ‘I’ve stood in the haze of Ares too often to think that, my lord.’

He nodded. ‘Just so. But an equality of excellence? I must say that I admire the notion. But that equates politics and war, which are noble pursuits, with ironwork and trade, which are not.’

I took wine from a woman who had to be his wife. I bowed deeply, and she smiled.

‘Arguing with my husband?’ she said. ‘A waste of breath, unless it’s about the running of this house, and then he loses all interest. You are Arimnestos of Plataea?’ She had gold pins in her chiton and her hair was piled on her head like a mountain. She was not beautiful, but her face radiated intelligence. Athena might have looked so, if she were to dress as a matron.

‘I am he, despoina.’ I bowed again.

‘Somehow, from my husband’s stories, I thought you might be bigger. On the other hand, you’re as beautiful as a god, which he somehow forgot to mention. Every slave girl in the house will be at your door. I’ll just go and lock them away, lest we have a plague of the nine-months sickness in my house, eh?’ She smiled.

‘Women are not allowed in the assembly,’ Aristides said, ‘because if they were, we’d be left with nothing to do but move heavy objects. This is my dear wife Jocasta.’

She twirled her keys on her girdle and stepped out of the room.

‘Tell me your notion then,’ Aristides said. ‘You speak well, and men seldom face me in debate.’

I shrugged. ‘I am as outmatched as a boy with a stave would be against me in the phalanx, lord. But, as you are so polite as to hear me out. . You assume that war and politics are noble. You assume that they are ends to themselves. But you cannot make war without spears, and we have no spears without iron-smiths.’

‘My point exactly — the iron-smith is less noble than the warrior because his craft is subordinate.’ Aristides smiled as he made his point — his kill-shot, he thought.

‘But my lord, if you will accept my expertise,’ I said carefully, because I did not want to anger him, ‘war is a terrible end unto itself. I have made more war than you, although I am younger. War is a terrible thing.’

‘But without it, we could not be free,’ Aristides said.

‘Ah, so freedom is the higher goal.’ I smiled. Aristides frowned, and then he grinned.

‘By the gods,’ he said, ‘if all smiths were like you, I’d replace the council of elders with smiths tonight!’

I shrugged, and then met his grin. ‘Remember, lord, I was the pupil of Heraclitus.’

He nodded. ‘Yes, in truth, you are an aristocrat — as you were educated as one!’

‘While being a slave,’ I added. And drank my wine.

But Aristides did not laugh. ‘This is no matter for light talk,’ he said. ‘Athens is an experiment — an experiment that may mean life or death to her. We’re attempting to push responsibility for the city down — as far down as we feel that free men have the power to think and vote. The further down we push these rights, the more fools we must tolerate-’

‘And the more shields you have in the phalanx,’ I said.

‘And the harder it is for the Pisistratids or the Alcmaeonids to restore the tyranny,’ he countered.

‘Is that what this is about?’ I asked. ‘The tyranny of Athens? Again?’ I’d had four summers of listening to Miltiades plot to take the city. Frankly, I couldn’t imagine why any of them wanted it.

Aristides nodded. He sat down. ‘The Medes are coming,’ he said.

That was news, and no mistake. I sat on a couch. ‘When?’

‘I have no idea, but the city is arming and preparing. You know we are at war with Aegina?’ he asked.

I shrugged. Athens and Aegina and Corinth ruled the waves — so of course they were not friends.

‘It’s not much of a war, but we’re using it as an excuse to arm. The Great King is coming. He’s appointed a satrap of Thrace — of Thrace, by the gods, on our very doorstep! Datis is his name, or so we’re told. We’re to be the target as soon as Miletus falls.’

I started. ‘Miletus falls?’ I asked.

‘Every man in Athens — every political man,’ Aristides corrected himself, ignoring my interest in Miletus, ‘is gathering a retinue. Many — I name no names — have pledged themselves to the Great King.’ He shrugged. ‘Both factions are gathering warriors — citizens and noncitizens.’

I put my wine cup down and laughed aloud. ‘You — are allied with Miltiades.’

‘Well might you laugh,’ Aristides grumbled. ‘He would be tyrant here, if he could. Only men like me stand between him and power. But he can’t abide the Persians and he’s in the field fighting, while we sit here.’

‘Piracy for his own profit, you mean,’ I said. ‘I served with him for four years, my lord. And I might serve him again. But it is not the greater good of Athens that drives Miltiades to battle. More likely, it is his attacks on the Great King’s shipping that have brought the Medes down on Athens.’

‘Politics,’ Aristides said, ignoring me again. He held up his cup to a slave for a refill, and I was annoyed that his slave got a glance and a smile, whereas I was merely a sounding board. ‘Doubtless some busy plotter among the Alcmaeonids thought to hire your men for their side and leave you powerless — thinking that otherwise your men would serve me or Miltiades.’

I snorted with disgust. ‘I was at home in Boeotia, tilling my fields,’ I said. ‘Please do not take it ill, my lord, but I care very little who is lording it in mighty Athens, so long as my bills are paid and my barns are full.’

‘You disappoint me,’ Aristides said.

I shrugged. ‘You have seen a couple of handsome boys wrestling by a public fountain?’

Aristides nodded.

‘Because there are young girls around the fountain?’ I went on.

He laughed. ‘Yes. Every day.’

‘Ever notice that the girls don’t even glance at the boys? Because such posturing bores them silly. Eh?’ Now we were laughing together.