PATRIDA: A NOVEL OF THE PANKRATION by PETER K KATSIONIS - HTML preview

Epilogue

Athens 336 BC

This novel is the literary property of Peter Katsionis. Copyright 1994.

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Patrida

Piros raised his right hand to his forehead but the miniscule shade it provided did little to cut the harsh glare of the noonday sun. What he could see was distorted by the rising heat waves and he was rapidly growing frustrated. They were supposed to have arrived an hour before and Piros was getting worried. Philip’s assassination had thrown all of Hellas into political turmoil, making even a civilized city like Athens a dangerous place to be, particularly for a Macedonian or Macedonian sympathizer. That was why it was imperative that they leave as early as possible.

A few weeks ago no such problems existed. As Philip’s close friend, Piros had looked forward to the campaign in Asia.

Pausanius’ treachery had changed all his plans and in fact had hastened decisions he had been pondering for awhile.

Alexander’s accession and consequent purging of many of Philip’s top aides had laid the foundation for the future persecution of the old regime. Although Piros had not been prosecuted for any crimes, real or imagined, he knew that sooner rather than later, Olympias, who hated him fiercely, would find a means to convince her son to eradicate him. His time to leave had come.

And with him he would take Dioxippus, Panthea and Phylia.

A commotion on the dock caught Piros’ attention. Two tall men, along with two women carrying bundles, were forcing their way through the milling crowd but the sheer mass of humanity impeded their progress badly. Even so, Piros could not help but notice that the two males easily knocked aside anyone who did not respond to their polite requests to move. Dioxippus and his good friend Euphraeus were cutting a swath through the crowd as effectively as a farmer threshing his wheat in their eagerness to get to the ship. Piros turned to one of the crewmen, barked an order and leaped over the side of the ship onto the dock.

This novel is the literary property of Peter Katsionis. Copyright 1994.

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“Dios, what has taken you so long? The ship’s master is ready to leave and only by threats have I been able to keep him here,” said Piros. His breathing was somewhat labored as he tried to control the tension within him.

“We have been delayed by...”

“Piros, he doesn’t want to go! Talk to him!” interrupted Panthea, barely able to contain her hysteria.

Piros could see from Panthea”s puffy, red eyes that she had been crying and now it was obvious why. “Are you insane?

What do you mean you are not coming? Hellas is no longer safe for any of us!” snapped Piros at Dioxippus.

“That’s the way it has to be,” replied Dioxippus. “My wife carries my child. She and the child have to live. I can’t guarantee their safety if they stay with me in Pella and I know Alexander will look for me if I desert. My only recourse is to send them with you. You must protect them. You must help raise my child if I am unable to come back. Promise me!”

Piros was too shocked to reply. His plan had not included Dioxippus’ change of heart and now he was unsure of exactly what he should do.

“Answer,” pleaded Dioxippus. “You must promise me. I am entrusting you with more than my life. Promise me!”

Piros looked first at Panthea then Dioxippus. He nodded affirmatively.

“Noooooooo...” wailed Panthea. Phylia moved to hold her friend.

“Thank you,” said Dioxippus softly. He gently took his pregnant wife from Phylia and held the now sobbing Panthea close to him.

This novel is the literary property of Peter Katsionis. Copyright 1994.

380

Copyright 2005.Copyright 2006.

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Piros looked to Euphraeus but before he could ask him the question, he spoke.

“I will stay with Dios. Where he goes I go.”

Piros turned back to Dioxippus. “There must be an alternative. I have friends to the west, toward Sicily. Alexander has no immediate plans to conquer that side of the world. There we will be safe. With a small blessing from God, we can live in peace in a kingdom strong enough to resist Alexander.” Piros took a breath. “Between us we have some fame. Let’s use that to seek shelter. Any of the western Greeks would be overjoyed to have amongst them Olympians. We can start a new life, maybe as trainers. A school teaching the pankration as only we can would bring the best from around the world. Even Alexander would respect such an institution. Come with us, Dios...please.”

Piros rarely rambled but the urgency of the situation coupled with a rapidly growing despair made his thoughts so jumbled he wasn’t sure whether he was making any sense.

“Piros, we have decided. I will march with Alexander.”

Piros could see that Dioxippus was resolute. The boy he had taught a few years ago was now a man, with a man’s responsibilities, and he would not risk his wife and child.

Grudgingly, Piros accepted the decision.

Dioxippus carefully lifted Panthea over to the ship. Two crewmen, slaves from Egypt, helped the pregnant woman onto the deck. Euphraeus went to help Phylia but she climbed over herself. Dioxippus lifted over the rest of the luggage then called Piros over to him. Dioxippus took his mentor to the end of the dock and in a voice low enough to not be heard by the crewmen or any of the other dockworkers said, “Piros, sail far away, farther than you had planned. Pella is in complete chaos and all of Philip’s former confidantes are being exiled or executed.

Alexander is barely in control. Between his mother and the This novel is the literary property of Peter Katsionis. Copyright 1994.

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general, Antipater, no one is safe. You of course noticed that Patroclus is not here.”

Piros nodded. He had been about to ask but the blank expression on Phylia’s face had been enough to tell him that something dreadful had occurred and Piros needed no imagination to figure out that Cleopatra’s most trusted eunuch slave had met with a horrible fate.

“Olympias has gone insane. While you were helping prepare Philip’s funeral and looking for anyone involved in a possible conspiracy, Olympias had Asian morticians clean and preserve the body of the assassin. The rumour going around the city now is that Olympias threw herself on the body of the murderer and grieved as if he were the one who had been her husband. She also was seen to have draped the body with gold and she called out to the gods to treat Pausanius’ soul with the love they would give a hero from the Iliad.” Dioxippus stopped to take a breath and look around. He continued. “The witch has murdered Cleopatra and her children. A friend of mine in the palace said that he saw the queen’s servants remove the body of the boy-child. It looked as if it had been chopped up with a butcher’s cleaver. And she did this in front of the mother. And again from what I heard, Patroclus tried to intervene on behalf of his mistress but Olympias’ guards cut him down on the spot.

That is why Phylia is like she is. I fear that with these losses she will kill herself. Only the fact that I have asked her to help look after Panthea while I am gone has given her a purpose to live. You must make sure that she is always needed. I don’t want to lose her too.”

Piros was speechless. Of the things Dioxippus had told him some he had heard about. That the situation in Macedonia’s capital had deteriorated to such an extent he was not aware.

Obviously, the empire that Alexander envisaged would not include him or Dioxippus’ wife and progeny. They would leave now.

This novel is the literary property of Peter Katsionis. Copyright 1994.

382

Copyright 2005.Copyright 2006.

383

Dioxippus slipped his arm about Piros’ shoulder as he walked him back to the waiting ship. As they approached they could see and hear the ship’s master yelling orders to his oarsmen while other crewmen loaded the last of the food bales and water onto the deck. Also on the deck a forlorn Panthea and a grim Phylia stood holding each other, the former still sobbing quietly. Their eyes reflected nothing but anguish and Piros himself was on the verge of bawling like a child.

Amidst this confusion, Dioxippus hugged the man who had been like a father to him and said one last thing.

“Someday we will be reunited. We will celebrate our lives, our loves and our children. But most of all we will celebrate the return to our homeland, i patrida mas. ”

This novel is the literary property of Peter Katsionis. Copyright 1994.

383

Copyright 2005.Copyright 2006.