Adelphe

CHAPTER I

CHAPTER I

KITION

Two men stood silently watching dockworkers unload four rough cedar crates from the deck of a Phoenician galley with a crane that swung from a piling on the dock. After the crates were loaded onto a waiting donkey cart, the dockworkers released and shoved the painted bireme from the landing.

The foreman met the two men as they approached the cart. “There’s a load for you,” he said.

“Good work,” replied the taller man.

The foreman attempted to straighten one of the crates that sat crooked on the cart. “Man, what have you got in there, anyway… gold?”

“Tin,” quickly replied the shorter man, “…from the Cassiterites.”

“Must be high grade,” said the foreman. “Nice and heavy. Should bring you a good price.”

“I hope so.” The man smiled and handed the foreman a stack of bronze Tyrian coins while his companion climbed up onto the cart. He climbed into the drivers seat and flicked the donkey into action. Before entering the village, they stopped and together threw an old carpet over the crates.

The sun’s heat overhead slowed the donkey as he pulled the two silent men and their cargo uphill beside an ancient cyclopean city wall, past a marketplace, and onto an upper road leading to the temple of Ashtart. The streets were mostly deserted, the inhabitants inside at their midday meal. Reaching the temple, the driver pulled in behind a row of columns and stopped in front of a low arched doorway.

The tall man, dressed in a homespun tunic, riveted leather belt, and short cape, jumped down from the cart. “I’ll mind this, Sychaeus, while you find Kadmos.”

Sychaeus, middle aged and similarly attired, wearing a Phrygian sailor’s cap, walked toward the main entrance of the temple. His companion tied the donkey to a ring in the wall and waited.

Minutes later the door opened from the inside and Kadmos, chief priest of the temple of Ashtart, emerged with Sychaeus and five laborers. “Melampus my friend,” said Kadmos, “welcome to Kition.”

Kadmos grasped Melampus by the forearms, earnestly welcoming his comrade. He smiled the smile of good-natured decadence, his curled black hair escaping in splendid cascades from beneath the priest’s puffy cap. A fringed, dark purple and black Assyrian cape covered various chains and necklaces of shining gold and jewels that adorned his neck and chest. Rings, inlaid with mother of pearl and polished colored stones, sparkled on manicured fingers. The priest’s voice sang with a musical quality that captivated and soothed the listener. “I hear you have brought me more tithes from across the sea,” he said in good-natured jest. His eyes twinkled and his mouth watered as he spoke.

“We must do what we can to please the goddess,” returned Melampus.

The laborers slid the crates out of the cart, through the door, and down the stairs on smooth log runners. The three men followed them into the cellar. Sychaeus carried a torch to light the way. Halfway down the corridor, the party turned into a dark hallway. Sychaeus went ahead and lit the several torches that hung from the walls. Melampus and Kadmos stood for a moment in the dark corridor. Kadmos smiled at his friend. “Go on ahead, Melampus, I will help Sychaeus with the cargo. Go make yourself at home and we will join you shortly.”

Melampus nodded and walked cautiously down the dark passageway and up a flight of stairs to an entrance covered on the inside by a heavy tapestry. He lifted the corner of the cloth and entered Kadmos’ apartments, paused to look at the opulent surroundings, and then passed through to a short gallery with painted walls and ceiling that led into the temple behind the altar. Inside the temple by a window, sat a beautiful woman wearing a finely woven, sheer fabric chiton. As he approached, she stood in surprise. “Melampus, is that you?”

“Yes, the same,” said Melampus.

The woman dropped her work and rushed to meet him. She smiled and grasped his hands. “Melampus!”

“How have you been, Anataea,” he said, restraining first his feelings of anticipation and now relief at seeing this special woman, smiling and happy to see him.

“Oh, I am doing just fine, Melampus. Since your last visit, I have been made leader of the temple hetaerae,” she replied joyfully.

“Congratulations,” said Melampus. “You have come far.”

“It is all because of you, Melampus. If not for your kindness...”

“You are worthy of every kindness my girl, and you have grown into the most beautiful woman in the city,” said Melampus, with a touch of pride in his voice.

“Come, let me get you some food and drink,” said Anataea, leading him by the hand toward the inner chamber.

Melampus followed her inside, where she bade him relax on one of the low Egyptian couches amid the gilded columns. She brought bowls of fruit and wine and told him all the news of the temple and about her new position, while the man gazed upon her beauty in rapt silence, nodding and smiling as she talked. While he listened, he remembered the day they first met, seven years before.

In the days before the founding of Salamis and resettling of Kition by the Tyrians, Cyprus suffered through a period of lawlessness caused by the absence of the Mycenaean Greek. Late in this period, on the eastern end of the island, three ships appeared in the sheltered cove that was one day to become the harbor of the city of Salamis. From the foremost of these ships, Melampus caught first sight of the island that was to be his home for many years to come. He had sailed to Cyprus with Teucer, a man hardened by years spent on the plain in front of the walled city of Troy. A hero rejected at home, Teucer sought land upon which to build his future.

At the shore lay a peculiar Egyptian vessel, her hull painted in exotic black and green designs. In front of the Egyptian ship sat a small settlement, made up mostly of scattered tents, animal pens, and small wooden huts with thatched roofs. As the ships sailed closer, the Greeks saw fire and smoke coming from the area of the wooden huts. Teucer ordered his helmsman to steer them in to the shore, alongside the Egyptian vessel.

A wooden ramp ran from the Egyptian galley to the shore. On both sides of the plank stood bare-chested Egyptians with whips, escorting a line of bound children up the gangway into the ship. At the sight of the Greeks, the Egyptians gathered in a defensive position, brandishing black, bronze tipped spears. Teucer called his archers, who took positions in the bow along the rail. Melampus grabbed a spear, and Teucer slung a bow and a quiver of arrows over his shoulder. Together with a dozen men they jumped over the side, down the ratline, and onto the shore. Teucer’s other two ships pulled up on the opposite side of the Egyptian vessel. Seeing they were greatly outnumbered, the Egyptians took a softer stance. Their leader stepped out in front and lowered his weapon. The captive children were already out of sight, inside the ship.

Teucer signaled to his men to hold their positions. “What brings Egyptos so far from home?” he demanded.

The leader of the Egyptian band answered in broken Greek. “Excellency,” he said, “we are only here for the orphans.”

“Orphans?” replied Teucer.

From the direction of the burning houses, two Egyptians with knotted hair and tattooed arms approached dragging a fair skinned girl, about ten years of age, with tears streaming down her face. Melampus stepped in front of the men. “Halt!” he said in a commanding voice. He lowered his spear and motioned for the Egyptians to release the girl. He then called her over to his side. “Who are you girl?” he asked.

“I am Anataea,” she cried, “and these men have killed my family. Now they are taking me away.”

“Not today, my dear,” said Melampus. He quickly stepped between the Egyptians and the girl. “These are slave traders!” he exclaimed.

As he spoke, over the rail of the ship appeared a row of Egyptian archers with arrows nocked and ready. “We go now,” said the Egyptian leader. They dropped the gangway and abandoned it where it fell. The Egyptian soldiers pushed the ship out into the water and climbed up the ratline as the dark galley floated loose from the shore. Teucer’s men kept their weapons aimed on the Egyptians until they were out of range.

When the threat of armed conflict was over, Teucer ordered his men to land and explore the area. In the village, the Greeks found many dead and wounded. Teucer left a few men with Melampus to help treat the injured and bury the dead, including Anataea’s family. For the remainder of the week, Teucer explored and surveyed the land around the cove while Melampus practiced the healing arts. Anataea followed the physician everywhere he went.

When it was time for them to leave, he decided to take her to Kition, their next destination, to see if a family there would be willing to care for her. It was during this trip that he first met Kadmos, recently arrived from Tyre as chief priest in the temple of Ashtart. There, Melampus left the tearful Anataea in the protection of the temple hetaerae. In the following years, he took special interest in the welfare of the girl as she grew and used his influence to promote her care and advancement.

Presently, back in Kadmos’ chamber, the sound of footsteps and approaching voices interrupted Melampus’ and Anataea’s meeting. “Oh, I must get back,” said Anataea. She was gone before Kadmos and Sychaeus entered the room.

After pouring wine for Sychaeus, Kadmos sat down near Melampus. “Have you seen Anataea?” he asked.

“Yes, I saw her.”

“She is beautiful, isn’t she?”

“Very beautiful.”

Kadmos studied Melampus’ wistful expression and distracted stare. He knew how much Anataea meant to his friend, although the latter downplayed the attachment now that the girl was grown up. Meanwhile, Sychaeus stood lost in his thoughts, heedless of his two companions.

“I seem to have lost my guests,” said Kadmos.

Kadmos interruption brought the other two out of their reveries. “What now?” answered Sychaeus. “Oh, my apologies Kadmos. I was just carried away by the impossibility of my life, I suppose.”

“You must get out of Tyre,” said Kadmos. “A man can’t enjoy life in such turmoil.”

“If it were only that easy,” said Sychaeus. “Both our cities are firmly in that boy’s power and doubtless he will want to pull Salamis in soon enough. It’s just a matter of time before Teucer discovers Melampus and I have been acting alone. When he learns we no longer have the power of Tyre behind us, our whole system will fail.”

“Maybe we should all three give up this life, take our wealth and go to Pylos, and live as free men,” said Melampus.

“Yes, that would truly be grand,” said Kadmos, “if only we were young with no careers and responsibilities. If only you could move to Cyprus, Sychaeus. Surely, there is room for one more clergy on this island.”

“If it were only that simple,” replied Sychaeus. “You may adapt, Kadmos, pay the tax and avoid politics, but it is different for me.”

Sychaeus shook his head and stared into the flame of the brazier while Kadmos rose and filled his glass. “Sychaeus you know you can count on my support. You are a true brother. I’m sure an answer will appear. Until then, your trove is safe here with me.”

“Thank you Kadmos and you Melampus, I know I can count on you, my two good friends. I have given it much thought and I agree, if Pygmalion continues to deny Elissa her rightful place, then we will emigrate and go to Pylos, or some other Greek city that will welcome Tyrian refugees.”

“Now, let us see what we can do to change the mood,” said Kadmos as he lifted the kithara from the top of the chest. “I know just the song.” Kadmos began strumming a happy Greek melody that soon chased the blue mood from the chamber.