Dagger of The Slave

By D. E. Loxwood

Set in Ancient Sparta at the height of the Third Messenian War, this is the third novel in the series, "Sunset on Sparta". Before reading this book, read the first in the series, "Heart of the Messenian", available on Smashwords. This second novel reveals how far one woman will go to save the man she loves, and to what depths another woman will descend to revenge real and imagined wrongs.

• Language: English
• Publisher: D. E. Loxwood
• Release date: Aug 31, 2018
• ISBN: 9780463456989

Book preview

DAGGER OF THE SLAVE

Sunset on Sparta - Book Two

Copyright 2017 D. E. Loxwood

Published by D. E. Loxwood at Smashwords

ISBN: 9780463456989

Smashwords Edition Licence Notes

An original novel under the pseudonym D. E. Loxwood. Author and copyright details available from [e-mail] . This e-book is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This e-book may not be re-sold or given away to other people except under the terms set out by the publisher. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

SUNSET ON SPARTA SERIES TITLES

1. HEART OF THE MESSENIAN

2. DAGGER OF THE SLAVE

3. DEATH OF THE OLYMPIAN

4. THE WOUNDED AMAZON

TABLE OF CONTENTS

MAP

1. THE CRIME SCENE

2. A SPARTAN WOMAN

3.THE WEDDING OF HELEN

4. THE GLORY OF WAR

5. SIEGE

6. THE ORACLE

7. EROS AND PSYKE

8. MORTAL COMBAT

9. BETRAYAL

10. THE VEIL OF FORGETFULNESS

11. THE MULE AND THE SEED

12. IN THE HEART OF THE ENEMY

13. DUPLICITY

14. DAGGER OF THE SLAVE

15. A CHANCE MEETING

16. DEATH OF THE SPARTAN

17. EXILE

HISTORICAL FOOTNOTES

I shall destroy the temptress that steals my dearest love from me,

Like a hyacinth in the mountains crushed under shepherd’s foot;

Even on the ground, a dark flower.

Sappho of Lesbos

MAP

1. THE CRIME SCENE

In a clear area beside a road in the lower reaches of the mountains to the west of Sparta, four naked and broken corpses lay side by side. Body armour and clothing, including crimson cloaks, lay neatly next to three of them. One of the corpses still wore a helmet. Next to the fourth body there was no armour, only a cloak and bandages, predominantly rust coloured, but in this case from dried blood. A little away from them, a number of horses were tethered and ten Spartan soldiers in their crimson cloaks stood around chatting to each other.

Three men all in their fifties inspected the corpses. Two of them were Spartan Ephors, Agamedes and Herodeon, the former a little taller and leaner than the other. Agamedes had a neatly clipped grey beard, his hair of the same colour. While Herodeon was of a similar age, his hair and beard were black, showing no sign of greying at all. The third was a smaller man with a rounded belly, his beard shaved and with a substantial balding patch on the crown of his head. This was Philon, a physician from the Periokoi, the subject people from the coast.

Philon stood by the first corpse in the row. As you have told me that your men carried all these bodies here down the water course behind us from the base of a cliff, I conclude that the damage to this body is consistent with a fall from a great height.

Agamedes nodded. This confused us at first. We’ve identified him as Menander, a highly respected and valiant soldier.

The physician stepped around the first corpse to the second, the body of a much larger man. The second you tell me was Aethon, your colleague. There is damage to his body, consistent also with a fall from the cliff, but the cause of death was a precision dagger wound to the neck.

Caught by surprise from behind? Herodeon asked.

Certainly not. The entry point was at the front. There is a puncture wound cutting both his wind pipe and the blood passage inflicted by a sharp pointed blade, a dagger. Unable to breathe and blood flowing out under pressure, death would have been almost instant.

Agamedes glanced in surprise to Herodeon. Then he was facing his killer? Agamedes asked.

Philon nodded. He turned to the next corpse. As for the third body, he was also dead before he fell from the cliff.

A spear through the head, Herodeon added.

That's Polydeuces, another excellent soldier, Agamedes said.

We haven’t removed the helmet. You might decide it would be better to bury him without removing it, otherwise it may be very messy. The penetration of the helmet and skull by the spear tells me that the spear was cast with power and accuracy from close range. Death would have been instant. On this body and also on Aethon’s, there are abrasions on the legs that suggest after death their bodies were dragged some distance. I surmise the assailant broke the spear to make it easier to drag the body to the cliff. Broken limbs and so on would have resulted from the fall.

Does it look like the work of the same killer? Agamedes asked.

The physician nodded. There’s the same efficiency and precision in the execution. On the evidence of Aethon and this man, your culprit is a ruthless killer. The fourth body though, is different, and mystifying. When your soldiers brought it down here, the hands were still tied behind the back. There is a wound to the shoulder, but that looks like an older wound. It had been treated and dressed, so it can’t have been fatal. The wound into the back from behind was a hurried, opportunistic sword thrust. Death from internal damage would have followed fairly quickly. But the unusual feature, as you can see, is that this man has been castrated.

And that was long healed, Agamedes said, which raises a number of very interesting questions for us. Five people who we know survived the earthquake all disappeared from Sparta at the same time, in the afternoon after the great battle in Sparta against the Helot rebels. The last body is that of the Helot, Elias. He was the leader of the rebel army, and we now know he had been secretly plotting against us for many years.

So there is a fifth missing corpse? Philon asked.

Agamedes shook his head. The fifth person was the killer, and everything we know points to Amiantos, previously known as the son of Pheidon. Two days after his disappearance from Sparta, he turned up in Messene, claiming to be the son of Elias, allegedly the heir of the ancestral hero of the Messenians, Aristomenes.

Herodeon looked at Agamedes, his brow furrowed. But he couldn’t have been his son. Elias wasn’t capable of fathering a child.

The important thing is that Amiantos believed he was, Agamedes replied.

Herodeon rubbed his chin. But Amiantos and Elias had been in each other's company for many years. We know they were very close. Surely he would have known this about Elias?

If we assume that Elias was plotting many years to subvert Amiantos, he would have made sure Amiantos never discovered the secret of his castration. Our compatriot, Pheidon, still maintains that he is himself the father of Amiantos, and he and his party want us to believe a very specific version of the events. As they tell it, our fourth corpse, Elias, Amiantos’s personal servant since his entry into the Agoge as a child, hatched a plot against his young master, waiting only for the right moment, which turned out to be the earthquake, to set it all in motion. Part of the plot involved the use of a beautiful Helot prostitute.

How much do we know about her? Herodeon asked.

Enough. Her name is Melantha. She came from a Messenian village some way up the river from Sparta. She lost both her parents early in life. She was raised by the village headman. As he led his entire village to Messene to join the Helot rebellion, it’s easy to guess what kind of influence he had on her. The death of her brother would have also fed her fanaticism.

How did he die? Herodeon asked.

He was identified as a potential rebel. Agamedes glanced at the physician guardedly. He was dealt with appropriately. He looked back to Herodeon. So we can assume, blaming us for the legitimate punishment of her brother, she was driven by anger and a desire for revenge to be enlisted into Elias’s plot. From what we’ve heard, she is a beguiling beauty with the skill and flair of a dramatic actor. Driven by cold calculation, she used her charms to seduce a naive and dull witted youth, not particularly handsome, and carried away by the attention of someone of such rare physical charms.

Naive and unappealing as he is, Herodeon said, he already had a beautiful Spartan bride, a niece of King Archidamus.

True. We can only imagine how Melantha must have debauched herself, what corrupt practices she must have allowed him to perform on her, to steal him away from his wife like that.

Philon leaned forward and peered at the body of Elias. This man must have been castrated as an adult. If he had been castrated as a child, his body would be very different, much rounder and more feminised.

Agamedes’ eyes narrowed. Aethon was convinced that he was closing in on Pheidon. Unfortunately he liked to keep his secrets to himself, but I remember him saying that there were two missing pieces of evidence to be explained. Maybe he was puzzling over the same thing. Is it possible that Elias impregnated Amiantos’s mother and Pheidon castrated him as punishment?

If Pheidon discovered that, surely he would have killed Elias, Herodeon said.

Agamedes nodded. When it comes down to it, the only people who can answer this for us are Pheidon and his wife Melissa.

And Amiantos, Herodeon added. Once we defeat the Messenians, we can bring him here and interrogate him.

Of course we will, and if it comes to that, no doubt Melissa and Pheidon will deny anything that Amiantos says. They’ll claim he’s a liar trying to save himself, or a dupe of Elias. But we owe it to Aethon to pursue this investigation as far as we can.

That means capturing Amiantos and bringing him back to Sparta alive.

Capturing him alive will be the problem, and for the time being Pheidon and Melissa are untouchable without stronger evidence than we have.

Herodeon turned his head towards the corpses. I find it hard to believe one youth on his own could have done all this.

I’ve been thinking the same, Agamedes replied. So let’s put together what we know. Assume that Aethon, taking two trusted soldiers with him, brought Elias, securely bound, up to the cliff top… he glanced at Philon and continued, …for interrogation. Let us assume that Elias has already completed his subversion of Amiantos, corrupting him to lust for the cold calculating Helot whore, and persuading him that he is the heir of Aristomenes destined to be leader of a vast army of slaves. Let us assume that after the capture of Elias, the boy fears the collapse of his dreams of lust and glory, and so he follows Elias up here. Let us imagine he is in hiding, listening to the interrogation. When they threaten Elias, Amiantos is stirred to action. He comes charging in with full armour and spear. The first soldier is holding Elias at the cliff’s edge, so Amiantos uses his weight to push him over the cliff. Seeing that Elias might be about to escape, the second soldier correctly identifies his first duty is to prevent this. Even realising that he is exposing himself to Amiantos, he heroically runs Elias through with the sword. As he turns to face Amiantos, the boy hurls his spear killing him instantly. Finally Amiantos runs after the unarmed Aethon. Aethon bravely turns to face him, and Amiantos stabs him in the throat with his dagger. Our murderer then covers up his crime by pushing all the bodies over the cliff, assuming they’ll never be found, and rides off to Messene to claim his wicked whore and power over Messenia.

Herodeon nodded. It’s an extraordinary story, but it fits all the facts.

And it tells us something we needed to know, that slow witted as he is, Amiantos is a dangerous adversary. The Messenians are now ruled by a born killer, a remorseless man with a heart of stone, and at his side, a fanatical and coldly calculating slut.

2. THE SPARTAN WOMAN

In their bedroom in the comfortably sized mud brick house they shared in Messene, Amiantos looked gently at Melantha, and his eyes moistened. Melantha lay naked on her stomach on a mattress. Her wavy black hair reached well below her shoulders. Her back was arched and supported on one elbow, while her other hand held a pointed stick tracing in the air just above the waxed wooden tablet in front of her the shapes of the characters marked into it. The night was silent and an oil lamp burnt near her, illuminating the tablet. Amiantos sat on the mattress next to her, partly covered by a woollen blanket.

Melantha, sensing that Amiantos was looking at her, turned her head towards him. Seeing the tear forming in his eyes, she reached over and wiped it away with the little finger of the hand holding the stylus. Amiantos my sweet, what’s the matter? she whispered.

Nothing’s the matter. It’s just that watching you lying here late at night, trying so hard to learn to read melts my heart.

Melantha smiled and turned back to the tablet. I’m not trying to learn, Amiantos, I am learning, and I’ll master this much faster than you think.

Amiantos smiled. In that case, study it well. It took me many years to understand the characters I’ve marked there and how they work together. I’ve written your name, and under it is mine.

She continued to trace the characters. Amiantos, she asked, why haven’t the Spartans arrived yet? It’s already twenty days since the start of our rebellion.

Almost every building in Sparta was damaged or destroyed. They’d have to clear up and do at least some rebuilding. Also, there would have to be a period of mourning for the dead. Every day’s delay gives us more time to build our walls and more time to train.

When will you find time to train me? Remember, you promised.

I promised to teach you to write, and I’m keeping that. I’ll keep my promise to teach you to fight.

So, when?

Amiantos nodded. All right, tomorrow. Come out after I finish training the men. But you’ll never fight in the phalanx. Not even Spartan women do that.

No, but you’ll teach me to defend myself. You’ll teach me to kill.

You want to learn everything, Melantha.

You’ll make a Spartan woman of me, Amiantos. That was our bargain. Otherwise I wouldn’t have married you.

I thought you married me for love.

She looked at Amiantos playfully. Perhaps, I can’t remember. Maybe I don’t love you any more.

Amiantos tilted his head a little and looked at her. You don’t?

No, but I don’t love you any less either. But maybe now you have what you want from me, you love me less?

Amiantos reached over and took the tablet and stylus from her. With immense care he wrote a short sentence along the bottom and returned it to her. When you can read that, you’ll know.

Melantha looked at the sentence and smiled. You’re clever Amiantos. I won’t clean that off until I can read it. Now I’ll study extra hard in my lessons. After a little while examining the characters, she continued. Amiantos, I’ve noticed that your name has eight characters and mine has seven. Do I have less characters because I’m female?

Amiantos smiled. No Melantha, there’s so much for you to learn. There are short names and there are long names. There’s no rule about how many characters are needed to make up a name.

When it’s written down, is every name different?

It is, and also every word will be different.

Then I have to memorise the appearance of every name and word in existence? How will I ever do that?

It’s true, and that’s why it takes many years to master the arts of reading and writing.

But Amiantos, I’ve noticed that some of the characters you’ve marked are the same. Is there a reason for that?

Yes there is. Each one of those characters represents a sound. By putting together several sounds, we form the sound of a word or name.

Melantha thought for a moment. I see. So that means you’re not right that I have to learn the appearance of every single word. The words are made of characters, and I can build the words from the sounds the characters represent.

I suppose you’re right. I never thought of it quite that way, Amiantos replied.

The man who invented writing must have been very wise, Melantha mused. I can see that by giving each character a sound, it simplifies the task of reading and writing.

But you have to learn all the characters. That’s not easy.

I’ve noticed that your name starts with the same character that my name ends with. Does that mean that the character represents the ‘a’ sound?

It does, but until you can identify and write all the characters, it’s far too early to be learning that.

And I’ve noticed that my name begins with the same character that I see is the second character in your name, so that must have a ‘mm’ sound.

That’s also correct.

Then as I see the ‘a’ sound appears again in your name, it must be that the ‘i’ character I see has an ‘ee’ sound.

It does, but how did you work that out? Amiantos asked in surprise.

It’s obvious, Amiantos, ‘a’ ‘mm’ ‘ee’ ‘a’, So it follows that the next character that I see in both our names must have a ‘nn’ sound. This is all so beautifully logical and simple. How many characters are there in all for me to learn?

There are twenty four.

Only twenty four? And in the very first lesson, I’ve already learned four of them. Amiantos, I want you to write out all twenty four of them now and tell me the sound for each.

Very well, but it will take you a long time to learn them all.

It won’t, it’s all very simple.

Amiantos laughed. No, it took me years to achieve my level of skill. He took the tablet from her, and began marking the characters in the wax tablet with the pointed stick.

Melantha sat up and watched Amiantos as he worked on his task, his tongue slightly protruding from his mouth in concentration.

Then perhaps you’re a very slow learner, She said almost to herself.

3. THE WEDDING OF HELEN

The newly constructed temple for worship of Helen, the Spartan Queen from the time of Homer, stood on the perimeter of a square in the southern part of Sparta. Unpainted and without decorative carvings, it was nevertheless the only building on the square with a roof and close to completion. The other buildings around the square, on the foundations of ancient temples were all in a state of partial construction. In some cases, little had been done apart from clearing the destruction from the earthquake. In others, stone walls were in different stages of construction with construction material lying around ready for use.

A crowd of Spartan men, women and children packed the square watching a ceremony taking place in front of the Temple of Helen.

The two Spartan Kings presided over the ceremony. King Archidamus and King Pleistarchus were both young kings in their twenties. Pleistarchus was tall, handsome and broad in the shoulders. Archidamus was narrow faced, his body short and slight, leaning a little to the left from a curvature of the spine. The two of them stood at the altar in the centre of the platform before the entrance to the temple. On the left side of the platform there was a group of girls, all eighteen or nineteen years of age. However, it was only the shape of their bodies and their smooth faces that identified them as women. In each case the girl’s hair had been cropped close and she wore the clothes of a teenaged boy, sandals, and a short simple tunic covering her body from shoulder to the thighs. On the other side of the platform stood a group of young men, a little older than the girls, all a year or two after graduation, their hair now allowed to grow and their beards neatly trimmed. The males also wore short tunics, but also crimson cloaks marking that they were already adult citizens.

A little in front of the two Kings a couple knelt facing each other, taking place of honour in the ceremony. The girl Kalliope, of an age with the other girls, was in other respects very different. Her hair was long, a golden, wavy cascade, and she wore a garland of purple hyacinths on the crown of her head. Her dress was full length and, like the flowers, dark purple in colour, trailing behind her as she knelt. Facing her was a youth who, even kneeling, was a head taller than her, a gold coloured crown on his head, also formally dressed with a trailing dark purple cloak. This was Leandros, a great runner, regarded as the most handsome youth in Sparta.

Below the temple steps, at the front of the crowd, a choir of ten girls stood in readiness for their part of the ceremony.

King Pleistarchus completed the sacrifice assisted by King Archidamus, but it was Archidamus who now spoke to the hushed crowd. The intonations and flourishes of his speech resembled those of a dramatic actor. Although he attempted to keep his hand and body movements to a dignified minimum, there were times when they seemed to respond of their own accord to the meaning and emotion of his words.

"Lakedaemonians, the period of mourning is finally over. Poseidon raged and the earth shook and cracked. The grief we have all felt for those we have lost, and especially the grief of the mothers of the young boys, two entire year levels, that died in the collapse of the gymnasium, has been almost unendurable. We experience different feelings, a feeling of sorrow yes, but even more, a feeling of pride at the sacrifice of brave men and even women who died defending Sparta and our farm lands when the Helots in Lakonia and Messenia rebelled in the midst of our emergency. In particular I mention the heroic death of Aeimnestus who, sixteen years earlier, was the slayer of the Persian commander, Mardonius. Aeimnestus and our entire garrison of the northern half of Messenia was overwhelmed by a massive force of Messenians and died to a man in an attempt to deny them access to the stronghold of Mount Ithome. We will avenge them soon.

We have asked ourselves and we have asked the gods why Poseidon punished us, shaking the Taygetos mountains, destroying our homes and taking to the realm of shades the flower of our youth. They say we have been punished for impiety, for seizing those who had sought the sanctuary of temples. And so we have spared no efforts in the task of rebuilding our temples, sacrificing to all the gods, praying for their indulgence and in prostrated ourselves at their mercy. As for the dead, we have sought to ensure their peaceful passage to the underworld by pleasing the gods with our piety in the funeral rites and in the commissioning of monuments of remembrance.

But now our mourning is over. The ceremony we hold today has not been celebrated for many years. It is the ceremony of renewal where we beseech golden haired Helen to make us fruitful again, to bless the harvest, but most of all that the youth we have lost to Poseidon’s rage shall be returned to us in the wombs of our girls.

We have chosen carefully the couples who will marry today. Unlike the rest of Greece where decrepit old men marry the girls in early blossom, in Sparta the girls marry at the peak of their strength, beauty and fertility. The young men are recent graduates from the Agoge to Spartan citizenship, only a year or two older than the girls. These are the ideal marriages in Sparta, the union of the beautiful with the strong. Let all of us here stand as witnesses to these marriages. If you are of an age and you are not yet married, it is time for you also to do your duty and be fruitful for Sparta’s sake. If you are an old man married to a younger wife, incapable or too lazy to lay the seed of Sparta’s future in her womb, then find a willing and vigorous young man to perform your duty for you. Now I call on you, Spartans all, be witness to these unions, imitate them and be inspired."

At the conclusion of Archidamus’ speech, the two Kings went inside the Temple. All the young men and women on the platform, including Kalliope and Leandros, with their backs to the crowd, faced the entrance to the temple, kneeling reverently. The choir sang a paean commemorating the marriage of Menelaus to Helen.

"At once in Lakedæmon,

Danced many a maiden fair

To red-haired Menelaus' halls,

With hyacinths in her hair:

Twelve to the Painted Chamber,

The noblest in the land,

The gathered loveliness of Greece,

Came dancing hand in hand.

For Helen, Tyndarus' daughter,

Had just been wooed and won,

Helen the darling of the world,

By Atreus' younger son:

With even steps they beat the floor

In unison, and sang

Their bridal-hymn of triumph

Till all the palace rang."

As the Choir sang, Kalliope felt Leandros’s hand squeeze hers. You are a very beautiful Helen. I was proud to be made your Menelaus, he whispered.

We’re only acting, Leandros,