Martin Millar: The Goddess of Buttercups and Daisies

Before the comedies were presented at the festival, it was customary for one of Athens’ great lyric poets to entertain the crowd with a few well-chosen pieces, to get them in the mood. As with everything connected with the festival, it was an honour to be selected.

‘Luxos, before my actors walk onstage, the crowd will be entertained by one of Athens’ great poets. Does that include you?’

‘Yes!’

‘Only in your own mind.’

‘But I could do it if I got the chance.’

‘Come back in a few years when you’ve made your reputation and I’ll consider it.’

‘It’s not fair,’ said Luxos.

‘We’ve been at war for ten years. Nothing’s fair any more.’

Aristophanes turned away. Behind him, Luxos had started reciting, but he wasn’t listening.

Shout to him! We shall sing of Dionysus on these holy days: he has been absent for twelve months, but now the springtime is here, and all the flowers.

General Lamachus didn’t enjoy being involved with politics in Athens. It had always been troublesome; since the franchise had been extended to almost every man in the city, he’d found it intolerable. He said as much to Euphranor, when they met in the Pegasus barber shop.

‘We have a chaotic, ineffective government that can barely make a decision. When they do, it’s liable to be wrong. Do these people think they’re free? As far as I can see they follow the herd. Whoever shouts the loudest, and promises the most reward for the least effort, gets their votes.’

The general warmed to his theme. ‘I hate the Spartans but I envy them too. They have two kings, and some ephors, and they make all the decisions. None of this consulting the entire population, with the endless slanging matches we have in our assembly. Every petty demagogue saying whatever suits him best, never mind what the city needs. I hate to be involved with these people.’

Euphranor nodded. He’d been a strong warrior in his time. Now he was grey-haired and overweight, and he wore a chiton a little too fancy for a man of his age. Nonetheless, he was still a powerful character. His weapons factory had made him one of the richest men in Athens. ‘It’s unfortunate, but we need to be involved. We can’t let the peace conference succeed.’

The general scowled. ‘It’s demeaning for men like us to be associated with a loud-mouthed rabble-rouser like Hyperbolus.’

‘I know. But there’s no one like him for stirring up the crowd.’

Their conversation paused as the barber and his slave attended to Euphranor’s beard. Lamachus wondered what General Acanthus and his Spartan delegation were doing at this moment. Not sitting in a barber’s, that was certain. Long-haired Spartans. He was sure he could lead Athens to victory over them, if only he was given the chance.

‘So what’s the feeling in the rest of the city?’

‘Still mixed,’ said Euphranor. ‘I’ve given Hyperbolus and his party plenty of silver to spread around, but even so there are a lot of people pushing for peace.’ He paused, and looked momentarily awkward. ‘I paid a visit to Kleonike.’

‘Her again?’ General Lamachus was exasperated. ‘We don’t need help from some renegade priestess.’

‘No harm in covering all the angles. Kleonike is a clever woman. And fond of money, as it happens.’

The silver mines at Laurium had brought a lot of wealth to Athens. Themistocles used the money to pay for two hundred triremes, setting them on the road to power. Athenian coins were used all over the civilised world. It was highest quality silver. The priestess Kleonike regretted that she’d never seen any great share of it. As a loyal Athenian priestess of thirty years’ standing, she thought she might have been better remunerated. When Euphranor, who had more than his share of Athenian silver, visited the temple with some specific requests, backed up by some solid currency, she didn’t mind accommodating him.

Euphranor was a fool, of course. No one but a fool would ask an Athenian priestess to summon Laet.

She knelt in front of the altar. Egyptian incense swirled around her head. ‘Come to Athens, Laet, bringer of discord. Come to Athens, and let the strife continue.’

Bremusa had noticed they didn’t have that many emergencies on Mount Olympus. Fewer than they used to anyway. There didn’t seem to be so many semi-divine adventurers in Greece these days, causing problems. However, from the Goddess Athena’s expression as she flew out of the private shrine in her mansion, she knew something bad had happened.

‘Bremusa, I just received terrible news from Delphi! Some corrupt priestess in Athens has summoned Laet!’

‘Who’s Laet?’

Athena gave her a rather angry glance. ‘How can you not know who Laet is?’

‘You have so many of these semi-divine figures. I lose track.’

‘You have been here for more than seven hundred years,’ said the goddess. ‘I thought you’d know them all by now. Laet is the granddaughter of Eris, goddess of strife, discord and war. You remember the trouble she caused with that golden apple. And if that’s not bad enough, Laet is also the daughter of Ate, the spirit of delusion, infatuation and reckless folly.’

‘Some parentage. Who’s her father?’

‘No one knows. But if he was unwise enough to fall for Ate, I doubt he’s still around.’

‘So what’s this Laet like?’

The goddess made a face. ‘With Strife as a grandmother and Reckless Folly as a mother? Laet is the very embodiment of utter foolishness. She’s the spirit of choosing the worst option on every occasion. She has a baleful influence on all who encounter her. Which means…’

‘She’s not the kind of person you’d want at a peace conference?’

‘Exactly.’ The Goddess Athena looked troubled. ‘If she enters Athens unchecked, there will be chaos. The peace conference will fall apart.’

Somehow Bremusa couldn’t see this as such a great crisis. ‘They’ve been fighting for ten years anyway.’

‘Bremusa, I want peace! My cities need respite.’

‘You’ve participated in a lot of war in your time… Athena Promachos, leader in battle.’

‘Well now I’m acting as Athena Polias, protector of the city. And I want peace.’

The goddess drummed her fingertips on a gilded table, causing the golden bowls of grapes to vibrate.

‘I’d stop Laet myself if Zeus didn’t prevent Olympians entering the cities during festivals. There’s nothing else for it, Bremusa — you’ll have to stop her for me.’

That was a suggestion the Amazon liked. She drew her sword. ‘I’ll make short work of her.’

‘Put your sword away. Laet can’t die in Athens. Her malevolent spirit would curse the city. I need you to stop her tactfully.’

Bremusa didn’t like that so much. ‘Tactfully? How?’

‘Outwit her.’

‘That’s never been my strongest point.’

‘I have faith in you,’ said Athena.

‘Can’t I just chop her head off? I’m good at that.’

The goddess pursed her lips. ‘I’ll find someone to help you with the outwitting.’

Luxos hadn’t really expected that Aristophanes would let him write lyrics for his plays, though he did hold out some hope that he might allow him the valuable position of reciting to the audience before the plays were staged. While Aristophanes had dismissed the suggestion out of hand, Luxos didn’t give up hope. He had a naturally optimistic spirit. Besides, he had other avenues to explore, and wasn’t finished with Aristophanes yet.