Paul Doherty - A Murder in Thebes

“So it was a woman?” Miriam asked.

“No, no, as the person passed, I glanced down; it was a man! He was wearing military sandals and had hairy legs, not like any woman I’ve ever seen.”

“And where was this person coming from,” Miriam asked, “Memnon’s chamber?”

“It could have been. But then again, all the officers have their chambers in the tower.”

“Not all of them,” Pollux intervened. “Cleon had his over the stables.”

“That’s right,” Caster agreed.

“You’ve been listening at keyholes.”

Castor and Pollux nodded solemnly.

“We listened to you when you were talking to the officers yesterday and when you were talking with that man with the cruel eyes.”

“Hecaetus?”

“Yes, that’s right, Hecaetus, who brought the prisoner in. We heard what was said about the spy being a woman.”

“That’s impossible,” Pollux continued. “Only serving wenches were in the Cadmea, and they knew nothing. When the garrison was besieged by the Thebans, the serving wenches were dismissed.”

“And when did you see this man pretending to be a woman?” Miriam asked. “Was it before the Thebans locked you into the citadel or afterward?”

“Oh, before,” Castor replied. “I got the impression he or she was going out into the city.”

“But you mentioned Memnon?” Miriam asked.

“Well, we talked about it last night,” Castor declared. “We think this person was going out disguised as a woman to move among the Thebans would not be recognized as one of the garrison.”

“Ah,” Miriam smiled, “I see what you mean. Is there anything else, lads?”

Both pages shook their heads. Miriam went over to the makeshift writing desk. She scrawled a short message on a piece of papyrus.

“If you do remember anything else, come back. Take this to the quartermaster. He’s a big fellow with a balding head. His name is Solomonides. Tell him you have spoken to me. He’ll give you food, but you’ll have to work for it.”

“I hope he doesn’t like boys,” Pollux declared, scrambling to his feet.

“Just to eat.” Miriam smiled.

The two pages left. Miriam lay back on the bed. She heard the tent flap pulled back, and Alexander walked in quietly, followed by Hecaetus. Both nodded and sat down on the opposite bed. The king looked clear-faced and bright-eyed.

“I retired early,” he joked. “There’s nothing like Mother to spoil a good feast. Hecaetus has told me what happened. Pity, I would like to have met Telemachus,” he added wistfully. “I am sure he could have told us a great deal.” He played with his wrist guard. “Hecaetus has also told me what you learned yesterday. The waters are becoming more muddied; I can make little sense of it all.”

“The spy, the Oracle, is in the Cadmea,” Hecaetus intervened. “My lord, if I were you, I’d arrest all five officers.”

Alexander snorted. “I’ve thought of that. Tell me, Miriam, why I shouldn’t arrest all five, confine them to quarters?”

“First, you’ve no real evidence,” Miriam replied. “Second, I wager some of those officers have powerful friends and ties with leading Macedonian families; their confinement will be seen as an insult, particularly if no charges are leveled.”

“Go on,” Alexander insisted.

“Third, the soldiers regard them as heroes. Whatever happened to Memnon or Lysander, those officers did not lose their nerve. Despite the most frightening rumors about your death and the destruction of your army, they held the citadel until you arrived. It seems a poor reward to place them under house arrest. Last, the army is preparing to march on the Hellespont.” Miriam continued, “You don’t want any divisions and you don’t want to give comfort to your enemies by lashing out, striking out against those around you.”

Alexander clapped his hands.

“Well done, Miriam!” He sighed and looked at Hecaetus. “And, if I put them under house arrest, what will happen?”

“Well, at least this Oedipus won’t go around killing people,” Hecaetus retorted.

“Oh, I think he’ll stop that,” Miriam declared. “It’s becoming too dangerous for him. He’s made his mark. He killed Telemachus because he had to. He’ll only strike again if he can get away with the crime. After all, he’s got the Crown, he’s caused confusion and chaos. I think he’ll sit, wait, and watch.”

“Is that all you can say?” Hecaetus sneered.

“Oh, we could put them under arrest,” Miriam continued. “One of them could be guilty, two could be guilty, or it might be all of them. Let’s review what we do know or what I suspect. We have a spy, a high-ranking traitor, a very skillful and subtle man. He knows the Cadmea, the city, and the shrine of Oedipus. He is a master of disguise. He can dress up as Oedipus. I suspect he can also disguise himself as a woman. Now, he may have used the latter ploy to attack our sentries or to go around the camp and approach the shrine. He certainly used that disguise to slip into the city of Thebes before the Cadmea was ringed off. Disguised as a woman, he could meet people like Pelliades and the other Theban leaders and give them all the information they needed before slipping back to join his companions. Now in the main, he was successful, except on two occasions. First he was glimpsed by Lysander, who probably uncertain about what he saw and a good officer, kept his mouth shut. Second, he was seen by one of the pages coming down from the tower and going out into the city. Now, before the Thebans cut the citadel off, people were allowed to go in and out of the citadel at will. Memnon wouldn’t have objected, would he have, my lord?” She paused.

“I know what you are going to say, Miriam,” Alexander replied. “He was to do nothing to antagonize the Thebans.”

“The Thebans also,” Miriam continued, “seemed to prefer such haphazard arrangements.” She paused. “I’ve said something.” She put her finger to her mouth. “I’ve said something. . ” She scratched the back of her head. “I don’t realize the significance of it. Anyway,” she continued, “matters changed when the siege began. There were no further strolls in the city. Instead the spy communicated with his Theban friends by fire arrow: the tip soaked in oil, the message tied to the other end. It would be shot to a specified location and the Thebans would then collect it. The spy, the Oracle, as you call him, also tried to unnerve Memnon: this business of Oedipus being seen around the citadel.”

“You said he was also seen beyond?”

“Oh, that was a Theban trick,” Miriam replied. “While the Oracle played the Oedipus in the Cadmea, some Theban played the role outside. It was to disconcert Memnon.”

“Why should they do that?” Alexander asked.

“You attacked Thebes,” Miriam replied, “because they rose in rebellion. They really thought you were dead and that the bones of you and your army were whitening in some mountain valley in Thessaly. It was a lie, a trick. The Thebans really believed the rumors and the spy did everything to encourage it. Whether he believed it himself, or whether he just wished to stir the Thebans up, we don’t know. In fact, the war was being fought in the mind and soul, especially of poor Memnon. The Oracle hoped our commander’s nerve would break, his spirit fail. Fearful of the Thebans, deeply anxious about Alexander and the army, Memnon might have been stupid enough to capitulate and ask for terms. Indeed, he was almost there, sending out Lysander to negotiate. Now I don’t think the Thebans wanted to kill Lysander. However, one of them foolishly said something that may have revealed the identity of the spy, so Lysander was killed and his corpse gibbeted to show how confident the Thebans were.”